1-2 Knockout

Happy Belated Weekend!

I spend a fair amount (much too much) of my time at work solving problems (i.e. fixing other peoples' F-ups), and recently there's been A LOT of them, many of which are caused - or at least further complicated - by incompetence and an institutionalized lack of accountability. Despite my repeated attempts to present solutions to many recurring problems, management has yet to take much, if any action to ameliorate them.  (On a side note, I imagine that these problems are neither unique to my firm, or to my job, so this one is also for all of our readers who are similarly getting shafted by the man).

Of course, calling out your boss probably isn't exactly the best course of action career-wise, especially so in this difficult (slash non-existent) market for Finance jobs, but, like most impulsive decisions, it seemed like a really good idea at the time. 

Thankfully (luckily?), reader Calgary Schmooze was able to bring me back to my senses with this positively inspirational tribute to the daily grind.   

(btw, if anyone's looking to hire a hard-working Anal_yst, shoot me an email  its.the.anal.yst@gmail.com, as my current gig severely underutilized my skills/knowledge/uncanny mastery of sarcasm/etc.)


From this Craigslist post:

Upon stepping into the office this morning, I had two different people remind me what day it is. “It’s Friday” they spouted, as if they had just unveiled some hidden truth about life……no shit it’s Friday, believe it or not I have a vague understanding of the passing of time, and keep myself moderately aware of what day in the week it is. But thanks anyway, lest I forgot and had the horrible misfortune of thinking it was Thursday. Could you imagine? The horror.

Finance Meets Fashion, or not.

Last night I winged-up with fellow commenter Investor Cluzzo at Pocketchange NYC: Finance Meets Fashion. Investor Cluzzo did a great recap on behalf of Dealbreaker (Bess asked us both to attend, and I can't turn down her beauty or witt).  I highly recommend you read his synopsis, but I had to add my two cents on the comment boards:

I'm still waiting to see the Post's recount of the event though. Let's just say Bill Ackman and David Einhorn made appearances and had some great one liners. Whether they saw through my facade (doubtful), didn't think anyone in the post would get my jokes (50/50), or they themselves had no clue what it meant to be "long CDS on interns" or arguing that the "fashion girls must have shopped their ratings around town because there's no way any of them were investment grade" I'll never know.

Also, best exchange from the International Intimates girl:
Girl: "Victoria's Secret outsources 65% of their underwear designs, and do 55% internally."
Me: "Do you mean 65/35 or 55/45?"
Girl: "Oh, yea, 65/45"
Me: "That's still not an option"
Girl: "Why not?"
Me: "Math"
Girl: Embarrased and clearly still not comprehending why she's wrong "oh yea, haha, totally"
Me: "So which is it then?"
Girl: "What's what?"
Me: "Nevermind.  I need a drink."

C'est la vie.

Bankers with "No Regard for Human Life"

Guest post by The Man Upstairs (aka, "Kenneth" in this write-up)

In Game Four of the Celtics-Cavs series, toward the end of the game, you may remember the gargantuan dunk LeBron had over Garnett.  It was a monstrous, traumatizing, titillating display of talent and human athleticism.  I've said this before, but the reality of the matter is that both LeBron and I are human beings, yet he can do that, and I have trouble making a left-handed lay-up.  The spectrum of humanity boggles the mind.  But I digress.

Immediately after the dunk, you can hear Kevin Harlan narrate, "OOOOoooHHH!! LeBron James, with no regard for human life!"  The way he delivers it, it's probably my favorite sound byte of this year's playoffs.  I think it's the preposterousness of it, as if a LeBron James dunk could kill someone.  But Harlan makes it a great line.  It made me want a sportscaster and/or color person to narrate my daily life.  Think about it.

"Kenneth, finishing the last tab of his twenty tab Excel model ... presses F9 to run ... everything works, it's time to save it and print it out ... OOOOOoooHHHH!!  Tom Kenneth, with with no regard for human life!!  Did you see that?!  Wwwwooow ... Let's go down to Michelle Tafoya, standing by Tom's favorite printer." 

"Thanks, Kevin.  What you saw there has become part and parcel of the total package that Kenneth has really developed over the years.  He's really worked on his mid-range collating skills, as well as his ability to post up smaller notes.  We've seen him save files with his mouse or by pressing CTRL + S, right or left-handed ... he's really ambidextrous at this point.  I had a chance to sit down with Tom's father, John Kenneth, this past week, and here's what he hand to say."

[fade to awkward interview spliced with home video footage]

"When Tom was a boy, we used to tape his right hand to his side and force him to press CTRL + S with his left hand.  From a very young age, it was clear to us that Tom had many special talents ... but absolutely none of these would allow him to become a professional athlete.  Once we knew that Tom was bound for the white collar world, we put him through a gamut of 'real world' exercises on a daily basis.  His mother used to mix vodka into the water bottle he took to swim practice on Thursday nights, so that he'd be hungover for school on Friday's."

"There you have it ... back to you Kevin."

"Thank you, Michelle.  Well, Reggie, what do you think about that?"

"You know, I think it's a great message to the youngsters out there.  Kids look at the performances put in by guys like Tom and how far he's come, and they assume that it's God-given talent.  And it is that, it is the talent, but it's also the endless nights of pointless assignments, practicing DCF calculations in Polish notation under a single light in the driveway, writing an ungodly number of emails over the years.  Look at the way Tom's hands rest on the home keys - that's not born, that's built.  Someone - probably some overweight, middle-aged woman with eighteen cats and an inferiority complex - beat it into him at an early age that that is how you type.  So it's the talent, and it's the work.  It's all that.  You don't get to where a player like Tom Kenneth is without a lot of hard work.  ... Or some really solid familial connections."

Mea Culpa

As a general rule, and one I actually manage to follow, I never look back on trades except to analyze them.  It's one thing to look for what was wrong with the way you analyzed, traded, or passed upon an opportunity; it's another to simply regret making/not making a trade.  Alas, there is one trade I fully regret--and I must come clean. 

I was short BSC at $145, back during the summer.  We were going into the numbers, and I was buying on anecdotal evidence about their PB acting--let's say--"off" with their hedge fund clients.  I thought this was the beginning of the end.  I shorted...heavy...for me.

Then I spoke to an analyst at one of the finest money-losing operations on the street--think Swiss--who was wildly bullish about their international operations.  I hadn't done much dd on the investment, so I let him scare me off going into the numbers.  I covered.

Mea Culpa, Friends.