Nemesis needed

The other day Matt was complaining how tough it has become these days. So much so that some of us are even disowning our mistresses in Monaco and Milan. He longed for the boring days when business was so easy to come by and when the trees in the park would blossom with money. we only needed to go and pluck. So, to cheer him up we dug out this from craigslist:

Nemesis required. 6-month project with possibilty to extend

Date: 2008-05-07, 2:49PM PDT


I've been trying to think of ways to spice up my life. I'm 35 years old, happily married with two kids and I have a good job in insurance. But somethings missing. I feel like I'm old before my time. I need to inject some excitement into my daily routine through my arm before its too late. I need a challenge, something to get the adrenaline pumping again. An addiction would be nice, but, in short, I need a nemesis. I'm willing to pay $350 up front for you services as an arch enemy over the next six months. Nothing crazy. Steal my parking space, knock my coffee over, trip me when Im running to catch the BART and occasionaly whisper in my ear, "Ahha, we meet again". That kind of thing. Just keep me on my toes. Complacency will be the death of me. You need to have an evil streak and be blessed with innate guile and cunning. You should also be adept at inconsicuous pursuit. Evil laugh preferred. Send me a photo and a brief explanation why you would be a good nemesis.

British accent preferred.

it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Compensation: $350 up front
PostingID: 672031640

Le Gastronome

Took Fei out for lunch the other day. And, thanks to few dedicated souls like Clarkson and that chap at Jet blue, we had some amazing weather that day. So I thought, I'd treat her to the frog legs at Chanterelle. But because Chaterelle serves such great food at such great prices (yeah yeah I can hear you guys saying "kanjoos"), you need to have a time machine to go back a couple of centuries to book a table there. Mere mortals like me however, can only get a reservation for our grandchildren. Which meant, I'd to take her somewhere else, and she thought BLT Market was a good idea.

Now BLT market, I must tell you, is run by executive chef Laurent Torondel, who has honed his culinary skills in France, which, when it comes to food is next only to heaven. It is also housed in Ritz-Carlton, and sits facing the central park. On paper then it sounded amazing. 

In reality though it was amazingly awful. I really don't know where to begin. How about the name, its the latest in the BLT series - the BLT might make the uninitiated think of a NYC deli, but this is anything but. Then there is the market thing, which means they buy their ingredients from the farmer's market and have a seasonally changing menu. Which is all fine, but they also want it to be Ritz-Carlton eligible so they have to put a gourmet twist on it. Think its getting a bit too much for the resident chef Malbequi. And then there is the charade, like my fish which was served in a pan rather than china. Somehow, one gets a feeling that they are trying a bit too hard. 

I've always thought that best food, is made by coming up with a recipe and then perfecting it over the years. You don't change it every now and then. Its the same reason porsche makes the such great cars. The 911 may be 40 years old, but the changes over the years have been little more than cosmetic. Its like the black sea bass at Daniel, its tasted the exact same - subliminal to be precise - every time I've had it. 

Which brings me to another great gastronomical delight, which I am afraid, we shall never be able to taste again - the Biryani at A1 at Lamington road. That one was perfect, and has been that way since my grand dad frequented it till the days I used to a few years ago. Come to think of it, the perfect Biryani has become rather elusive these days. Some not so reliable sources tell me Dorabjee's in Pune camp has closed down (Can somebody tell me if she's lying?). But when it comes to biryani the place that beats even Paradise at Secunderabad is Olympia at Colaba. Guys, try it while it's still there.

The (in)visible hand of markets

We've maintained all along that market price is the right price, and if you disagree stop talking and take the contrarian view. Of course, don't try it on us, if you do, you are no more worthy of being in the markets. So, we complained to Mr. Cox, and he agreed to subpoena the street. 

Reminds me of "The Solution" of Bercht:

After the uprising of the 17th June

The Secretary of the Writers Union

Had leaflets distributed in the Stalinalle

Stating that the people

Had forfeited the confidence of the government

And could win it back only

By redoubled efforts. Would it not be easier 

In that case for the government

To dissolve the people

And elect Another?

Nouveau riche the second time

Oil's at 145, and Bernanke and Trichet's dovish speak means it's going to stay there for a while. Now, while that is driving the kangaroo harvesters to alcoholism (roo harvesters struggle with rising fuel costs), and the wives of squid fishermen back into prostitution (Japanese squid boats strike over rising fuel costs), I am told the Bedouin tribesmen, these days, are using Porsche Cayennes to haul their caravans across the Sinai. The Siberians, not to be out done, are parading their trophy wives all over London. 

So, we have a new wave of Nouveau riche hitting Cote d'Azur this summer. Which, isn't at all surprising, since you only ever get nouveau riche people there. What is interesting though is that for this year's crop, its the second time. The Arabs had been there in the 80s and the Russians took over from them after the wall came down. So, you would expect them to have developed some taste by now, expect them to have gotten used to their endless petrochemical dollars. And while some of them have (remember, the sheikh doubled down on Citi, a bet that has gone horribly wrong), most of them have not. 

Take, Monsieur Saeed Khouri for example. He has just bought himself number plate for 14mm dollars (the infidels can see the auction here). And his brother bought another for 9mm. Apparently the entire Khouri clan is bonkers for the number plates if the journal is to be believed. And if the journal is to be believed even more, the brothers couldn't be interviewed because they don't like to be the center of attraction. Who bids 14 million for license plate in a public auction, and then says he doesn't like to be the center of attraction. 

And its not just number plates, this has had an impact on the art scene as well. "Islamic Art" as it is called has made a billionaire of David Khalili, nine times over. His art collection which was worth 850mm last year, is worth 9bn today (take this with a grain of salt though, or maybe a generous helping). The Arabs are gobbling up any piece of their culture they can lay their hands on, and no price is too high. And what about the Russians? The Christie's has started listing prices in Roubles, and that says it all. To borrow a phrase from the Times, the Russian billionaire these days bestrides the world of art the same way as the American tycoon did a century ago, with limitless resources and limited taste. 

The Americans were the new rich a century ago and their relentless appetite for art was then derided as comparable to "a tipsy dowager with unlimited credit moving down the Fifth Avenue on a riotous shopping trip". And now we look at Peggy Guggenheim's collection's with awe and admiration. Looks like 50 years later we'll be visiting the Daria Zhukova gallery in Moscow. 

Mommy, I want to be a trader

"But what exactly is it that you make here?"

That was a question from a nine year old, that shut me up for good a few years ago. I was at that time interning at bond options trading desk at a competing investment bank. And as a part of a lowly intern's job, with no regard for the ivy league education, I was pressed into action as a tour guide for bunch of school children. I have always maintained that trading floor is no place for children, and that if you work there, I strongly urge you that you tell your child you play piano to the monkeys in the Bronx zoo, or sing the nessun dorma to the ducks at st James' park. I digress. Resentful though I was, I still took the kids around, after the thought that "the offer" and the "guaranteed bonus" could still be rescinded came to my mind.

I showed them the fellow members of the mercenary creed, hundreds of them. The animated fights between traders and the salesmen, the occasional trader banging his desk after losing a bit, or maybe a lot. The researchers cooking up the lies to feed the pension funds, and the salesmen feeding those. The kids looked amused, they asked me what the charts on most peoples screens were and how many computers there were on the floor and the sort. I was pretty pleased with myself, and thought of taking up tour guiding as an avocation. Till the point the little devil asked me the above question. I was about to say " We make money, smart guy", I resisted the urge.

I had, till that point, never thought about it. When you are at Columbia you are led to believe that the only thing worthwhile in this world is working on wall street. It is said that even a music major there works on wall street. The question, however kept me up all night that night. I tried to convince myself of my usefulness by thinking that I was somehow bringing together the supply and demand of money. It was a lame answer to a very profound question. I still don't have a good answer.

The question came back to haunt me again a few month's later when I visited my beloved Mumbai. My five or six year old cousin told me she wanted to be a doctor when she grew older. When pressed for a reason she said it was something her granny had told her. I wondered about the psyche of Indian parents or any parents for that matter (Michael once told me that he had to tell his granny he was a doctor for her to think he did anything worthwhile). Come to think of it, there's nothing wrong there. Doctors cure us, engineers build the things we use, teachers teach us. The results of their day's work are easy to see.  

I then asked some of the kids at a nearby school. Its a small school, not the DPS sort where you rich guys send your kids. This was the sort where your drivers kid would be. The answers I got ranged from teacher, doctor, policeman, Sachin Tendulkar to Shah Rukh Khan. Now that complicates things, what good in the world do Tendulkar and Monsieur Khan do? I don't mean they are as useless as yours truly, but certainly the fruits of their actions as not as simple. Tendulkar may bring an unlikely victory to Team India, but he doesn't "make" anything.

Well then, its about the visibility. These kids see Tendulkar on TV, they see their teacher every day, they have been t their neighborhood doctor. So if I ask the kids outside a Manhattan Synagogue, will one of them tell me he aspires to be a trader?

I ain't alone

So I am not the only one to hate talking computers. I have a kindred soul

(look around the 4:30 mark)

Tech!

Every now and then I get this irresistible urge to do something stupid. Like the other day I thought I'll change my phone company. Now this is as stupid as, say, wanting to change an axe murderer for a chain-saw murderer, they'll both kill you. There is no such thing as a phone company with better service, because they are all just as bad. Notwithstanding, I went to a shop and bought myself a new phone contract, which I thought would be the end of it. If only I was not so naive.

Apparently, I had to first activate my new contract. Now, I can never understand this - and that might be because half my brain is dead - why could they not sell you a contract that's already activated. What kind of person would walk all the way to a shop, pay good money to buy a contract, and then think you know what I'll never use this. I would indeed love to meet this person, there are so many things I can sell him.

So, I called them to activate my account. I was expecting to encounter a resentful attendant in Gurgaon, who would, before he activated my account, ask me if I wanted to switch to every other calling plan they had that I had not picked. What I got was even worse. It was a stupid computer, masquerading as a sweet woman with a distinctly midwestern accent, talking to me. Now people will tell me that computers these days are smart, and I won't believe that because they are not. So here's how the conversation went:

midwestern computer: Welcome to AT&T Cingular. To continue in English say "English". Para Espanol....

me: English

midwestern computer: Ok. English. Tell me what you would like to do (me: If only you were real, a lot of things really). For Billing enquiries say "Billing". For Technical Problems, say "Technical Problems". For anything else, say "Other"

me: Other

midwestern computer: Ok. Other. What exactly would you like to do? To activate your account, say "Activate account"...

me: Activate account

midwestern computer: Ok. Activate Account. I'll need a few details for that. Let's start with your name. Can you spell your first name for me please.

me: "S" "U" "D" "H" "A" "N" "S" "H" "U"

midwestern computer:  Ok. "S" "U" "B" "H" ...

me: no, thats not what I said...

midwestern computer: Sorry I couldn't get you. to continue say "Continue". To start over say "Start over"

me: start over

midwestern computer. Ok. start over. For Billing enquiries say "Billing"....

me: No woman, I just wanted you to get my name correct...

midwestern computer: Sorry. I don't get you. For billing enquiries....

me: No No No you stupid woman, I don't want to go through all that all over again...

She however would not give up, so I did go through all that again, till we got back to my name.

midwestern computer: Ok. "S" "U" "D" "H" "A" "M" "S" "H" "U". If that is correct say "Continue", if not say "Its wrong" 

me: "Its wrong"

midwestern computer: Ok. Lets try again. Can you spell your first name please?

And we repeated the drill, about fifteen thousand times, and still the stupid thing from chicago still couldn't get my name right. Finally I gave up. I just walked all the way back to the shop and asked for my money back. The guy at the counter of course asked me what the problem was and got my account activated in about 30 seconds. 

Relieved, I walked back thinking, why exactly did I change the phone company in the first place?