Sunday, May 4, 2014
Sunday Morning Buffett!
Oh its that time of year again. No not the Kentucky Derby when horses run around turning left 4 times. No not May Day when I parade around town in my hammer and sickle suit.
It's Berkshire Hathaway shareholders meeting time when a crapload of rich old people drive their Buicks into Omaha, Nebraska, stay at the Motel Hell for $30 a night (after negotiation of course) and pack their portable fridge with sandwiches so the don't have to spend any money on food.
Oh boy, it's the annual trip to worship Warren Buffet and money, not necessarily in that order, to grab as much free or discounted shit as they can, take a bunch of selfies in front of every corporate logo known to man (of course all the S's are now $'s) and then go home, checking the bank balance every 5 miles to make sure one of those 47% haven't hacked any of it.
I have no problem with Warren Buffett. Hell he used to be my neighbor, which tells you what a shit, I mean modest, neighborhood Warren still "lives" in. Good Lord, I drive by his house everyday, and this weekend you never fail to see at least 5-10 people standing outside his house taking pictures. What's his house look like? Well let's just say it does not have an car elevator. In fact, you could conceivably walk up and ring his doorbell. I wouldn't recommend it, since I'm pretty sure he aint there and being the richest guy in the universe (yeah I know he's only in the top 5 but at that point who cares?) he probably has primo security.
Warren will hold his meeting of skinflint old folks and ascot wearing trust fund babies in a giant basketball arena which will be packed. Others who didn't show up 5 hours early will watch in a side room on a miniature TV (come on now spend $$$ for a bigger screen? Preposterous!) There, Warren will voice his wisdom on making even more money, crack a few old people jokes and then leave. The star struck money worshippers will all come out with glazed looks and investment boners and tell anybody who will listen how Warren changed their lives when Mom or Dad kicked the bucket and they inherited the good stock.
I kid the annual Berkshire Hathaway meeting because if you lived here, you'd see the local news stations falling all over themselves to get that shot of a private plane landing at our very modest, ah hell let's be real, our dump of an airport. Meanwhile you will get 4 days of local news station sucking up to anyone with a goofy Berkshire badge around their necks. Oh please, Mister or Mrs. Out of Towner, please tell us how great our city is.
It's a circus without the cruelty to animals. Hordes of dime store millionaires prancing around downtown Omaha asking if that credential they hang around their necks and leave on 24 hours a day will get them a discount? It really is something to behold. Once. Go a second time and you want to kill everybody in the room.
Here are some of the events shareholders actually travel hundreds or thousands of miles to see and experience.
5 hours of money talk by Warren Buffett and his right hand man, Charlie Munger. Now since there is not 1% of Mittens Romney in me, this bores me to tears. The only "interesting" thing was Warren actually having to explain his abstention from voting to give Coca Cola executives huge bonuses. Geezus,Warren, how socialist of you. Other than that it was sleep city.
You can take a shuttle out to the aforementioned "airport" and look at a bunch of private planes sitting on a runway. I'd rather stand on the roof and watch a Southwest flight coming back from Vegas and imagine how miserable those people must be.
Saturday night you can take our limo out to midtown Omaha and stand in a long ass line to get free ribs, a free piece of Dominos pizza OR a Sonic burger. With a Diet Coke of course. The sight of millionaires standing in a horrendously long line to get free food and sit at a makeshift picnic table makes me ironically grin that there are some people who do this just to stay alive every fucking day. Hey, none of that commie bleeding heart bullshit this weekend!!
The locals can all dress down and run in the Berkshire Hathaway 5 kilometer race. Now I have run in these kind of races before. 95% of them use your entry fee to benefit a local charity or some cause. Nope not this one. You have to pay money to get that special t shirt with a cartoon Warren and lots of $$$$'s all over it. No thanks. Ok, to be honest I'm fighting a knee injury or I might have been there. That t shirt IS pretty cool.
There's a special "discount" day at a local jewelry store, owned in part by Warren B. Yep step right up and overpay, just not as much, for a necklace or an earring.
And finally, go to eat at Warren's favorite local steakhouses. He used to have one favorite. Then they sold out to new owners and Warren found a second favorite. So pick and choose. Hey, they are fine restaurants, just don't go this weekend. Go to the real Zoo instead.
To sum up my feelings on Berkshire weekend. Hey come to Omaha, have fun, dream about your portfolio, pretend it's just like Woodstock for money grubbing misers, and then go home to try and make even more moolah without working. If that's your bag, hey man, it's a free country, I think. But if anybody is going to lecture me on money, it had better be cool, like these guys.