If someone says to you "I don't get it.  J.P. Morgan lost their own money what's the big deal"?  The big deal is that if they lose 2B it's their money, if they lose 200B it's our money.  Perversely, the current system encourages big banks to take tremendous risk.  Either they win big or they get bailed out and all's good.

In this case J.P. Morgan went looking for a risky proposition, European debt, and then they looked to hedge the position.  Lo and behold the hedge didn't work and they got bit.  They took a speculative position, a la M.F. Global, and couldn't cover their position.  We're OK with M.F. Global (at least as OK as we can be with a firm that played fast and loose with investor money) b/c they were small and their failure didn't reverberate through the markets.  We shouldn't be OK with J.P. Morgan b/c they're too big and b/c the current environment encourages them to seek out tremendous amounts of risk.  The bigger the bet the less chance they have of losing.   

Peace, Love, and PB&J

My mom was nutty.  Dependent, rageful, and flighty among other things.  She was also warm, genuine, and deeply concerned with my well being.

I remember when I was probably 7 or 8 that I wanted to run away.  There was either some real or imagined slight that I experienced in my family that was truly the straw that broke the camel’s back.  As I considered my response it was clear that I had to leave.  Most likely I would fare a great deal better on my own.

I can’t be sure what was going on in my mom’s head but as I’m now a parent of 3 with an almost 7 year old I suppose I can guess.  She may have been confused and concerned, wondering what had disturbed me to the degree to which I wanted to leave home.  Perhaps she thought it was cute that I was making a bold decision.  In any case I remember her acknowledging my decision with the kind of gravity it deserved.  She looked concerned and supported the fact that, yes, if that was what was decided then I must act.  She helped me pack.  And this is what  I really remember, she made PB&J sandwiches for me, wrapping them in plastic and putting them into my backpack along with my clothes.  I left home and walked the streets of my neighborhood.  I remember feeling a great deal of relief and freedom.  I had cut ties with the daily details that had grounded me and was able to experience the world without the worries of home.  I remember touching pine trees and cones in ways that allowed me to experience the wonder of how these things were made.  It was a tremendous stress relief for me, and, as I consider it today, I wonder how a 7 year old boy came to experience such stress in his daily life.

I’m much older now.  I look back on that youthful mom, the stressed out boy and I think about being young.  I think about my almost 7 year old boy.  How delicate and wonderous he is.  I wonder if he’s currently stressed out and how I might help him before he gets that way.  I’m respectful of the fact that daily stress affects him as much as anyone and that he needs support, respect, and encouragement.  

I give thanks for a flawed mom that never stopped searching for the strength to love me and for my wife who tirelessly loves and supports our 3.

Peace, Love, and PB&J.