Don't laugh. The guy may be right.
Back when I used to have lunch with Peter Lynch on a regular basis, he would often tell me about these "secret powers."
We'd be sitting in our booth at a little place near Fenway Park called "The Salty Chowder," chuggin' down the Adam Smith Ale and eating our bowls of salty chowder, and he'd say to me, "Kev, you know why I love this job?"
I got pretty sick of hearing this every time we'd meet, but I'd humor him anyway.
"No, Pete, pray tell, why do you love your job?"
"Let me tell you, Kev! It's not the huge salary, or the satisfaction of being a better stock-picker than anyone else in the world. No, sir! The thing that gets me out of bed each morning, the thing that puts a smile on my face as I drive in from Marblehead every day, is…I get to screw the little guy! That's right, all those miserable blue collar guys with their $10,000 accounts and $500 trades, I love to crush them like beetles under my Florsheims! And I can do this, Kev, because I have secret powers! Yeah, doll, two more brews over here and another plate of the scrod 'n' cod special. And this time, tell the chef to hold the capers, for gawd's sakes!"
After I got my masters, I moved away from Beantown, and we gradually lost touch, but I never forgot the lessons I learned from the master.
[I'll update the index tonight. Right now it's current through last Friday home.att.net] |
