So, back on February 26, Warren Kinsella writes:
True story: so I’m coming back from a meeting with my pal Rick Smith of Environmental Defence. Get off the subway, walk through the slush on Bloor. Ambulances and cop cars everywhere.
A guy gets wheeled out of one of the fancy-pants buildings in a straightjacket. He’s hollering his head off. “I’m the CEO!” He yells. “I’m the f*cking CEO!”
Hmm… (picks up phone). Hello, Stockbroker? Yeah, sell. You heard me: sell.
(Update): I wrote this a couple of days ago. Therefore, it’s a little alarming to turn to this headline at lunch: Chinese fall spurs global bloodletting. The greatest fall of the Dow since the September 11 attacks? Maybe that CEO was onto something…
Rrrrooll up the Rim to Lose
Andrew at Bound by Gravity is logging his futility in Tim Horton’s annual contest to “Roll Up the Rim to Win”. He wonders what the odds of winning really are, since he’s been known to go a dozen cups of coffee without winning anything — not a free donut, nothing.
Well, Andrew, my own score is 0 for 1.
Vivian at the Bank
Vivian is so cute, she disrupts business.
Yesterday, I stopped off at my credit union to purchase an RRSP for myself and Erin and an RESP for Vivian. And Vivian, at nearly 16 months, did a remarkable job sitting in a chair beside me for about thirty minutes as the financial adviser walked me through my options, but the financial adviser and I both knew that, at the end of thirty minutes, Vivian was tiring of sitting still, so the advisor suggested I go to a different part of the bank to set up the RESP, to give Vivian a change of scenery.
Once in the new location, the new teller pointed me in the direction of a children’s area that might keep Vivian occupied, and she told me not to worry; she and the other bankers would keep an eye on her. Which they all did, because Vivian proceeded to visit each and every teller.
I could just picture what was going on in the background as I sat and signed a whole bunch of papers. Vivian grabbed up a toy baby stroller and trundled it across the floor, left it on the other side of the room, and waddled back to the toy area to get more toys, then waddled back to the stroller and trundled it back to the toy area. Then she ended up behind the teller cubicles, and I heard each and every teller do the verbal equivalent of “prairie dogging”, going “ooo! Look at you! What a sweetie”, all down the line of cubicles.
Well, I got my RRSP and RESPs set up after about an hour and fifteen minutes. Not sure how much other business the credit union accomplished at that time.