While the brilliant minds in Washington DC contemplated how much ketchup could make their "crap sandwich" palatable, I decided to go out looking for the lost bull of Wall Street this weekend. I found him. He was a two and a half hour drive west of Monkeydart Plantation. He'd clearly lost weight and didn't have the same brassy sheen he sported earlier-- but it was him. I caught up with him Sunday afternoon and asked him when he was coming back.
"Are you kidding? When Citi is buying Wachovia I should come back? When Barney Frank and Chris Dodd, friggin' Frankendodd, are now running a Soviet-style command and control economy, I should come back? There are polls and reporters pushing Obama into the White House and you want to know when I'm coming back?" he asked.
"Citi's buying Wachovia?" I asked.
"You'll find out tomorrow." he said.
"Wow. More Yankees moving into the neighborhood. But... are you really letting Frankendodd scare you away? Those two are pretty, um, wimpy." I said.
"Listen, I'll be back. I always come back. But this market bull knows he's never safe when the Congress critters are piling up the bullshit this deep. Relax, I'll be back. Buddy, they created this whole problem with their Fannies and their Freddies and their Sarbanes-Oxley rules and mark-to-market accounting. It's so obvious even that dumb bear saw it and started to feed and growl and prowl. They created the problem and now they're going to get $1 Trillion to 'solve' it? I should hang around and watch that? But, some day I'll be back," The Bull said.
"Could you let me know when?" I asked.
He snorted and trotted away.
UPDATE: The "crap sandwich" needs more seasoning it would seem.
