I decided to mention it to Marilyn. If before the goal had been, even if only jokingly, to build my equity to $100 million, so I could buy an island getaway, maybe I needed to think bigger. How much do you need to be worth to be able to afford your own G-II or G-III? Five hundred million? A billion? A fellow could get used to living like this!
I drank my first glass of champagne, and then set down my glass and rooted through my briefcase for a pad and a pen. What other good stocks or situations were there for us to invest in? Dell started up in the Eighties, I remembered. I jotted Michael Dell down on my pad. Who else? I thought about Steve Jobs, but the time to invest with him was in the future. Don’t invest with Steve Jobs I, the developer of the Apple computers, invest with Steve Jobs II, the inventor of the IPhone and the IPod and the IEverythingElse!
I knew that if I was to see the names in the paper, I would be able to recollect what they were up to and whether to invest or not. I also needed to split the investments into two categories — buy and keep for a good, long time, and buy and keep until something bad was going to happen! The first category would probably be Microsoft, but the second might include some companies with a hot technology that would wow the world for a few years, and then fall by the wayside. For instance, buy Motorola when their cell phones took off in a few years, but then dump them for Nokia, and after that, dump Nokia for Research In Motion (the Blackberry) or Apple. This was a good long term project for Melissa. If she couldn’t do it, she would know the best investment research firms to track down the info.
I sat there and sipped my champagne and made notes. After a while, I noted my handwriting was getting sloppy and my champagne bottle was empty. That was when I realized I didn’t want to make any more notes! I collected my wits enough to cram my crap back in my briefcase, and then buried the dead soldier and pulled his brother from the fridge. No use flying on only one wing, which was a singularly inappropriate metaphor when actually flying, I realized.
I was in the process of opening the second bottle when the intercom chimed, and the captain came on, to announce, “We’ll be starting our descent in about five minutes, Doctor Buckman. We should be back on the ground in Honolulu in half an hour. I radioed ahead and the charter office was going to call your home number.”
I would have thanked him, but couldn’t find a speaker button, or even if we had one, so I just yelled loudly, “THANK YOU!” I had no idea if he heard me, so I poured myself another glass of champagne, and sipped it as the plane nosed over and powered down and made a slight turn. I continued sipping my glass as we landed smoothly and taxied to the hangars.
After we came to a stop, the pilot came out of the cockpit and smiled as he saw me. “Feeling happy, are we?”
“Feeling very happy, captain! This is definitely the way to fly!”
He laughed. “Well, let me get the door open, and you can tell that to your reception committee! You can’t leave until the Agriculture people release you, but somebody’s already on the way.”
My reception committee? I looked out the right side window but didn’t see anything, and it was only when the pilot started opening the hatch that I remembered the door was on the left side of the plane. I got up and looked out a left side window, and muttered, “Oh, shit!” to myself. Not only was Marilyn there, but so were Harlan and Anna Lee, and the boys! They were going to witness good old Carl Buckman climbing off the plane half potted! Nothing to do but brazen it out.
I pulled my jacket on, grabbed the bottle of champagne in one hand and my briefcase in the other, and made it to the stairs without stumbling. The bright Hawaiian sunlight was almost blinding as I got to the door, so fumbled my sunglasses on before leaving the bird. I stopped on the top step and threw my arms wide. “Hail the conquering hero!”
A guy in a uniform came up, smiling. He was walking an adorable beagle wearing a vest. I handed him my declaration form, swearing I didn’t have any fruits, vegetable, soil, seeds, or animals. He glanced at my form and said, “Well, Killer, he carrying anything?” The beagle started sniffing me and my briefcase.
“Killer? That’s Killer?” I asked.
“You don’t think he looks terrifying?” he asked, smiling.
“Only to pussycats.”
Killer failed to find me in violation of the law, so I was waved through. I waved to everyone again.
“He’s drunk!” commented Harlan.
“Carling! You’ve been drinking!” complained Marilyn.
I simply grinned and came closer. “Just the one bottle, honey. I’ve hardly touched this one!”
Harlan laughed, even as he stared at the plane. Marilyn was not as amused. “This one? You’ve had two bottles of champagne!?”
“Well, I haven’t finished this one yet. Here, want a drink?” I passed her the bottle. “Go on, it’s the good stuff!”
Marilyn stared at me in disbelief, until Anna Lee laughed and said, “Go ahead, I’ll be the designated driver.” Marilyn groaned and gave me a dirty look, but then she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a swig. She passed the bottle back to me, and I took a swallow, and then passed it to Harlan.
Harlan looked at the label and shook his head. He took a healthy swallow as well, and then asked, “Okay, what gives? Just what the hell do you do?” He climbed on board the Gulfstream and looked around, and then came back out. “Unbelievable! What the hell do you do that has you staying at the Royal Hawaiian and flying around like this?”
I looked over at Marilyn, who had taken another sip from the champagne. “Well, go ahead and tell them. No use hiding it anymore.” She handed me the bottle again.
I shrugged and had another swallow. “Okay, here goes.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a business card holder, and pulled one of my cards out, and handed it to Harlan.
Harlan looked at it, looked up at my smiling face, and then looked back down at the card. “President and CEO of the Buckman Group, Private Equity and Capital? What the hell is this?”
“I told you I worked for an investment company, right? That’s it. I own the company. I’m the Buckman in the Buckman Group.”
Both Harlan and Anna Lee stared at me for a second. I had another swallow of champagne, and passed the bottle to Marilyn. I chuckled as Charlie tried to take it from her. His mother kept it out of his reach while she had another swallow, and then she passed it to Harlan. “Here, finish this off.”
Harlan finished the bottle off and we set the empty in the back seat of the Lincoln. “So, you’re rich, right? You have to have some bucks to be in, whatever this is. What is private equity and capital, anyway?”
I leaned back against the car. “Let’s go back to the hotel. We can explain it along the way.”
“You can explain it,” said Marilyn. “I don’t have a clue what you do. Hell, I didn’t even know you had money this time last year!”
“Hey, I never lied to you. I just never told you everything. There’s a difference,” I protested.
“Whatever! Come on, let’s go, and you can explain it all. Maybe they’ll understand it better than I do.”
I didn’t explain all that much for the five minute drive back to the Royal Hawaiian. The boys were getting fussy and Roscoe was smelling like he needed a change. We bundled the boys inside and spent ten minutes sorting them out. I was tempted to open another bottle of wine up, but decided I would probably pass out if I did. Finally, when the boys were in cribs or sleeping, Harlan asked for an explanation. “So, what is this Buckman Group, and what is private equity?”