I believe the definition of par is the number of strokes an expert golfer requires to complete a hole. The par for a 72-hole tournament’s completion is four days, which may have to succumb to Mother Nature’s par for the skies of New York lo these many days.
Instead of delivering buttery bucketsful of sunshine, she has deemed it necessary to strap kegs of Poland Spring to the gray clouds. Our promising tan is fading, and the makers of sunblock lotion must be laying off thousands.
In the meantime, Mother Nature’s niece, Miss Market, must be obeyed as well. We cannot bend them to our will. Even Tiger Woods, 11 strokes off the lead after 36 holes as we write, must bow every now and then to the vagaries of nature.
Miss Market will increasingly inflict pain or rain riches according to the broad-brush data released every week. That’s because stock prices will more and more respond to news about the general health of the economy than the efforts at political jockeying on legislation. Change in financial sector regulation is a given, as is health care reform, deficit spending and money supply growth. Barking about reforms being too much or too little is quibbling. Too often, we seek the perfect at the expense of the possible. Recovery is baked in the cake.
Last week, the Conference Board reported that its index of leading economic indicators rose 1.2% in May, the second straight monthly increase. And the Philly Fed index rose to negative 2.2 in June from negative 22.6 in May, the best business condition in the Philadelphia region since September. New orders and shipments improved, as employment remained very weak. Those who still have jobs are running faster on the treadmill.
We will have to run a little faster this week to make up for the baseball picks last week. We picked the wrong day to take the Floridian fish over the pinstripers, the same day we foolishly believed the Coors Field tall boys would turn chilly against the plucky Bucs. Earlier, we put our faith again in young Vin Mazzaro of the Elephant patches against the old Brooklynites in southern California.
Mother Nature and Miss Market can be obstinate, but patience will bring them around. Stay long equities and oil, short bonds. The U.S. Open will crown a champion sooner or later. Here’s hoping it’s later, as Kev has a Thursday ticket good for Monday if they can’t finish today. Long shot investment tip of the week: Go long Duval, short Barnes.
Showing posts with label Los Angeles Dodgers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Los Angeles Dodgers. Show all posts
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
See the USA in a Chevrolet
You can draw a direct line from the Declaration of Independence to Dinah Shore, who touted GM's most visible nameplate.
Walk through Prospect Park and trod the same ground George Washington skedaddled through in August of 1776 fleeing the British and Hessians who had routed the Continentals in the Battle of Long Island. Kev saw no red coats with muskets there this weekend, just red-shirted young ladies, fearless as only the young can be, playing a game with ball and bat that began in the young republic as something called rounders.
Little has changed in the game since the Knickerbockers played all comers at Elysian Fields in Hoboken. Well, ok, the mound has been lowered, the pitch count has become a much-watched statistic, gloves have become lengthier, and players’ bodies have swollen and shrunk with the ebb and flow of, ahem, B-12 injections. But it is still a kids’ game invested with the American dream of pastoral sublimity – a pastime without a clock, as the seven-hour, 25-inning collegiate affair between Texas and Boston College attested to.
In the meantime, though, the clock ticks in the world of striving and getting. Before you know it, the ground shifts under your feet and all the striving doesn’t result in any getting. The latest tremor is the reorganization of General Motors under the aegis of the taxpayer, but it is not a quake. Largely foreseen, the UAW and bondholders inevitably had to bow to the less-worse than the catastrophic. Proof of the inevitability is the blythe reaction of the stock market. Although four shares of GM will now secure a Big Mac (no fries or Coke), Miss Market cares not a whit and goes merrily on her way, gathering her rosebuds while she may. Just hope my dream of owning a new Corvette does not go aglimmering and I can live my own Tod and Buz Route 66 adventures.
As capricious a mistress as she is, she cannot help but respond to the soft summer cooing of newborn whippoorwills. It brings out the nurturing side of her. The latest song of hope comes from the purchasing managers survey (now the Institute for Supply Management). Its diffusion index rose to 42.8% in May from 40.1%. That still indicates contraction in the manufacturing sector, but not as steep as prognosticators thought. More importantly, the new orders sub-index, an indicator of future activity, rose above 50% for the first time in a year and a half.
Miss Market is also a Yankees’ fan, apparently. She giveth and taketh away. The Tribe let Kev down tonight, issuing too many walks to the pinstripers, giving its latter-day muderers’ row too many chances to rattle run-scoring doubles off the wall. Still have the Dodgers tonight, but Kuroda looks like he wants to issue free passes as well. Already 40-some odd pitches into the second inning, what looms?
Well, Washington escaped to Manhattan and lived to fight another day and father a country that lets us take all the time we need on grass and dirt with bat and ball and leather. The clock is clicking elsewhere. Stay invested in equities and commodities, shun government bonds, and enjoy the open road.
Walk through Prospect Park and trod the same ground George Washington skedaddled through in August of 1776 fleeing the British and Hessians who had routed the Continentals in the Battle of Long Island. Kev saw no red coats with muskets there this weekend, just red-shirted young ladies, fearless as only the young can be, playing a game with ball and bat that began in the young republic as something called rounders.
Little has changed in the game since the Knickerbockers played all comers at Elysian Fields in Hoboken. Well, ok, the mound has been lowered, the pitch count has become a much-watched statistic, gloves have become lengthier, and players’ bodies have swollen and shrunk with the ebb and flow of, ahem, B-12 injections. But it is still a kids’ game invested with the American dream of pastoral sublimity – a pastime without a clock, as the seven-hour, 25-inning collegiate affair between Texas and Boston College attested to.
In the meantime, though, the clock ticks in the world of striving and getting. Before you know it, the ground shifts under your feet and all the striving doesn’t result in any getting. The latest tremor is the reorganization of General Motors under the aegis of the taxpayer, but it is not a quake. Largely foreseen, the UAW and bondholders inevitably had to bow to the less-worse than the catastrophic. Proof of the inevitability is the blythe reaction of the stock market. Although four shares of GM will now secure a Big Mac (no fries or Coke), Miss Market cares not a whit and goes merrily on her way, gathering her rosebuds while she may. Just hope my dream of owning a new Corvette does not go aglimmering and I can live my own Tod and Buz Route 66 adventures.
As capricious a mistress as she is, she cannot help but respond to the soft summer cooing of newborn whippoorwills. It brings out the nurturing side of her. The latest song of hope comes from the purchasing managers survey (now the Institute for Supply Management). Its diffusion index rose to 42.8% in May from 40.1%. That still indicates contraction in the manufacturing sector, but not as steep as prognosticators thought. More importantly, the new orders sub-index, an indicator of future activity, rose above 50% for the first time in a year and a half.
Miss Market is also a Yankees’ fan, apparently. She giveth and taketh away. The Tribe let Kev down tonight, issuing too many walks to the pinstripers, giving its latter-day muderers’ row too many chances to rattle run-scoring doubles off the wall. Still have the Dodgers tonight, but Kuroda looks like he wants to issue free passes as well. Already 40-some odd pitches into the second inning, what looms?
Well, Washington escaped to Manhattan and lived to fight another day and father a country that lets us take all the time we need on grass and dirt with bat and ball and leather. The clock is clicking elsewhere. Stay invested in equities and commodities, shun government bonds, and enjoy the open road.
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