Midnight on Sunday the 18th, Missy called me at home with knowledge of the Hong Kong crash. I knew immediately that this was the big one I had been waiting on. I told her to assemble the team and to be in the office at 4:00 AM. I rolled out of bed and told Marilyn I was going into the office. I showered and dressed, made myself a hot tea and finished it off, and then drove into Hereford and let myself in. Missy showed up at 3:30, lugging some doughnuts from an all night Dunkin Donuts franchise.
The others all arrived by 4:30, some of them looking bleary eyed and nobody was in their usual suits. I didn’t care. Everybody logged onto the market networks and we followed the turmoil in London. They all turned to look at me nervously. I just nodded and said, “This is it. I’m calling the Code Red.” Then I went to the break room and made myself some more tea, and snagged a cream filled bun. It was out of my hands.
We had a small trading operation, with Missy overseeing three traders. We didn’t touch our tech positions, and certainly not the companies we were on the boards of. We only messed with the stuff we had liquid, and I didn’t trust to the automated programs — I wanted humans making these decisions. By 8:00 we started seeing the early birds come in, and it was obvious to them that something was happening. By the time John and the two Jakes showed up, the market news was boiling, and I spent almost as much time calming them down as I was spending keeping Missy and the traders calm. None of them had ever been through this before. I shuttled in and out of the trading room, keeping a smile on my face and calmness in my demeanor. I was nervous myself; one misstep on our Code Red and Code Green scenarios could really fuck us over!
Well, let’s be fair about it. I had never been through this before either, but I at least knew how it was going to end. By the end of the day, the Dow lost 22 %, but the Buckman Group gained 10 %. Tuesday morning I called the Code Green bright and early, and we picked up another 20 %. By the end of the week, we had picked up another 20 %, and at that point I called it off and we went back to our normal trading routines.
Missy and the traders were nervous wrecks by then, and I was working overtime to keep them sane and centered, but it worked. At the close of trading Friday, I posted the increase in our net worth on the wall, and then led a round of applause by the entire office. I also doubled their bonuses for the year and gave each of them a week at Hougomont for a vacation. I went home and had several drinks!
In one week, the Buckman Group had become a billion dollar operation.
Otherwise things went along normally. Charlie started second grade and the twins started pre-K. The house at the end of the day was only slightly less noisy and confusing than the main trading floor of the New York Stock Exchange. I would come in the front door, and be greeted with a kiss from Marilyn, reach down and scratch the head of a manic Dum-Dum, wave to Charlie who was heading outside to get into some sort of trouble, and try and figure out which of my daughters was trying to climb me. Sitting in my recliner only let the girls and Dum-Dum climb on top of me easier. Marilyn would bring me some iced tea.
It was a very good life. I knew it would come to an end someday, but that didn’t mean it would end badly, just that it would end. It reminded me of my previous life, when I would go camping with Parker and the Boy Scouts, and Maggie was young and would be bringing all her girlfriends over. I could see the same dynamics going on now. At the time I had thought it was barely controlled chaos, but later, when they grew up and went off to college and their own lives, I discovered I missed it.
Now, I simply savored it.
Chapter 91: Oprah
At the end of October our literary agent called. Our book had “tested well” (whatever the hell that meant) and the initial publication run had been increased. Now they wanted to do a book tour, and wanted to schedule us for this. So far we had been conversing on a conference call, but at this I scratched my head and asked the agent to take the train down with details. Then I called Harry down at UMBC and asked him what he thought about this.
“Well, I can’t do it! It’s the end of the semester and I can’t just break away for weeks at a time!” he protested.
“I figured you would say that,” I replied. “Let’s talk to this fellow and see what he says. Maybe I can break free for a few days. Have you ever done anything like this before?”
“No, never,” he replied.
“Me neither.”
The next day the agent showed up and we met in Harry’s office at UMBC. The plan was to release the book officially on October 27, a Tuesday, and we would start our tour by the end of the week. Harry and I just looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Nothing like a little warning! That was next week! The tour was to start on the east coast and work its way west, and last about two weeks.
“This is crazy! I have classes! I can’t just leave for two weeks!” protested Harry.
I nodded. I pulled a calendar off of Harry’s wall and started reviewing the time frame. “You have us starting this tour on Friday the 30th and going for two weeks.” That would take us through the 13th, although they might keep it going if it went well.
“Uh…” the agent stammered.
“Let me see your proposed schedule,” I asked. He handed it over and I looked it over. “How definite is this?” We had television and radio interviews in Boston, New York, Cleveland, Chicago, St. Louis, Denver, Seattle, San Francisco, and LA, with a few other places penciled in the margins. San Antonio, Atlanta, and Miami were noted as possibilities towards the end of the schedule.
“What about Baltimore and Washington?” asked Harry. “I could do those, I suppose, if the timing was right.”
“Those were secondary markets,” commented the agent.
“Secondary to publishing, maybe, but Washington is a primary market for the type of people who will be reading this book,” I replied. “Let me ask you, what’s a typical day for one of these things?”
“Well, normally you would fly to the city the night before. The next morning we try and have you do a morning talk show on the radio. After that, a book signing at a local bookstore, the bigger the better, then maybe another radio show or a local television station to be interviewed by one of the local people. Maybe another book signing after that. In New York and LA we’ll try and get you on one of the late night shows. Then, after that, you fly to the next stop.”
“And who does this? Do we both have to be there?” I asked. I knew that this could help sales of the book, but Harry had a real dilemma with timing.
“Oh, no, we only need one at each location. In your case, we could split you up and have you do different parts of the country.”
“Okay. So do you go with us? Does somebody meet us at each location? How does that work?” I pressed.
The agent started going over the mechanics of it all. No, nobody would travel with us. That would be too expensive and time consuming. We would get a schedule, and fly from city to city, take a cab from the airport, and stay in a local hotel. The rule was to travel cheap and save your receipts. We would get a daily budget — and allowance.
I rubbed my face with my hand. I looked over at Harry. “I’ll let you do anything local or in DC. I’ll handle the travel parts, but I am calling the limit at two weeks. Anything after that, and you can travel.” I turned back to the agent. “Get the schedule finalized and sent to me as soon as possible and I’ll have my travel agent set up my flights. With any luck, in New York and on the west coast I’ll be able to schedule some visits with some outfits I do business with. Any chance you can simply give me a lump sum payment based on the per diem allowance?”