Vic Socotra

30 September 2008

Triple Whammy

(L-R) Tony, Joe, Vic and Jiggs examine the Big Pink Styrofoam Ball

It is a festive day, or at least it would be if everyone wasn't bummed out because of the Congress and the Market. They need celebrating the way we do in Washington at Big Pink. This year is a magical line-up of events, a regular triple whammy created by the interaction of the moon and man.

Dig it- when the hands of the clock, informed by the movement of the atomic clock, signal Midnight, all the money in the Federal Treasury disappears and new greenbacks appear. It is a trick that makes what the markets did yesterday seem like nothing.

On the floor of the New York Stock Exchange, the minor wizards made more than a trillion dollars of value disappear in a single trading day. The changing of the Federal Fiscal year replaces almost three trillion dollars, Fiscal 2008 greenbacks disappearing and brand spanking new FY-09 greenbacks replacing them.

There are a couple exceptions, since money comes in different colors, and the multi-year appropriations get a little moldy, but that would bog down the celebration. Hot places like the Office of Management and Budget party almost like is 1999 again.

The staff used to have a Beach Party right in the New Executive Office Building, the tall red brick edifice across Pennsylvania Avenue from the white marble wedding cake of the OEOB where the sexy stuff happens, and I assume they are doing something cool to celebrate the passing of the old money.

Of course, there is so much money disappearing these days, a lot of it personal, that things might be a little muted. At Big Pink, things are upbeat. The court cleaned me out a couple weeks ago, and my new investments are all bonds.

I mean, what could go wrong with that?

It is sort of funny about Congress and the magic trick with money. I was talking to a government official about a contract that had to be executed like right now or the money would disappear when the computer screen in front of me blinked and I got an alert that the bail-out failed, 228-205, even after all the Big Dogs put all that effort into it. I thought the trillion dollar package essential to preventing widespread economic calamity, but I guess not.

Some of our elected representatives said they didn9 9t like being scolded by the Speaker of the House, and since I was being treated to the same thing from a more junior member of the Executive Branch, I had a certain sympathy with them. Still, you need to be professional about the money. Predictably, the markets began to plummet as soon as the word got around.

I know a lot of people are just going to shamble through the day, worrying about their retirement accounts in market-based securities. The are acting like it is the end of the world. It is not. It is a day to celebrate.

It is cool when the planets aligned like this. I tend to be a determined secularist in my holiday observations, but I am going to take a page from everyone this time. It seems prudent. I am going to walk along the Lubber Run if I=2 0get a chance this afternoon, and empty the contents of my pockets into the stream as a tribute to Rosh Hashana. It is the celebration of the Jewish New Year, too. It seems like a symbolic casting out of the sins of the past year is completely appropriate.

God knows, we all have enough of them to get rid of.

Rosh Hashana is a lot more spiritual than the secular New Year, so we will try to keep down the noise. The Congress is cooperating, and they will not try to fix anything until later in the week. Thank goodness the Chinese markets are closed to celebrate the founding of the Communist State. I would have put that on the calendar, too, but I was running out of space.

Later this evening, as the clock ticks down, we have got a little gang together to peek at the roof of the west wing of Big Pink to see the first sliver of the moon. The silver appearance marks Eid al-Fitr and the end of the fast of Ramadan. That has got to be something to celebrate. All over the world people will break their fast as they catch a glimpse, and praise God in their way.

We intend to raise a glass to that, too, with something extra. We did a dry run on the Big Pink New Year’s Ball last night. We are using a large Styrofoam ball studded with big Christmas tree lights. We rigged a base on Tony’s patio, and with an intricate series of pulleys and tackle tied to the tree, raised it up to the fourth floor to hang just off my deck. I have three of those orange extension cords plugged together, and they actually w ork.

I don’t know what happens to the things in the closet over the summer. Lights that were perfectly fine turn perfectly dead. We tried it last night. Most of the lights came on, and we considered the preparations a success.

It should be spectacular. The pool guy left the underwater lights on the timer. The glow from beneath the green cover gives a sort of cheery holiday air to the big dark rectangle after the sun goes down.

I plan to start lowering it toward the Tiki Bar far below at about ten minutes to midnight, hand over hand. If the plugs don’t pull apart, things should work just fine.

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