Buyout Blues

The other day, FBB politely requested that I resume blogging on at least a semi-regular basis.

While I casually responded with something like, "Sure, I'll see what I can do," it was quite obvious to me that I was being set up.

Clearly, FBB is attempting to force me out of IcebergCarwash, and is going to use my current hypoblogastia (an unfortunate condition characterized by significantly reduced frequency of blog posting) against me.

I did what any rational blogger would do. I called an attorney and an investment banker. We decided that FBB's attempted coup would require me to sell my stake in IcebergCarwash.

The difficulty would lay in finding a buyer who would be willing to pay my price.

I could just sell my 50% stake to FBB, but as an insider, she is well aware of the true value (or lack thereof) of IcebergCarwash. The spread between the bid and offer would be impossibly wide, and the negotiations would be dead-on-arrival.

Another important thing to consider is that when we set up this blog, FBB and I agreed to grant each other a right of first refusal in the case of the sale. Simply put, if either of us wanted to sell his/her stake in IcebergCarwash, he/she would have to first offer to sell that stake to the other at the same price to which it was being offered to the third party. This is pretty standard stuff for blogs which feature a joint ownership structure.

Considering this, perhaps I could simply call in a favor or two, and get someone to make a "stalking horse" bid, designed just to establish a price at which FBB would need to execute her right of first refusal. Then again, it's a "right" of first refusal, not an obligation, so FBB could simply call my bluff, and decline to match the other "offer." In this case, I'd be left with no transaction.

Clearly, I'm going to have to find a real, third-party buyer to take my piece of IcebergCarwash off my hands.


But whom?

It would be great if I had a time machine, and I could go back to 1999, and attempt to sell my stake in IcebergCarwash.blogspot.com. Using the valuation models which prevailed in 1999, just the ".com" piece would be worth approximately $1,500,000,000. I'd then take the proceeds, use one of those off-the-shelf tax shelters that all of the tax advisory firms were selling to their high net worth clients back then, squirrel the money away in the Isle of Man, and get back into my time machine, pausing briefly to short the heck out of the NASDAQ Composite index.

Sounds great, but there are two fundamental problems with that plan:

(1) I do not have a properly-functioning time machine at my disposal.

(2) If I did have a properly-functioning time machine, I'd need to make several stops along the way to 1999.

With any time travel-based plan off the table, I needed to come up with a solution that could work in 2010.

Perhaps I could package my ownership stake in IcebergCarwash into some sort of exotic security, replete with an option and a credit default swap, and sell it to a German bank. These geniuses are willing to buy any U.S.-originated asset-backed security. American bankers might be reckless and greedy, but German bankers are downright dumb. From the commodity trading fiascos of the late 1980s, to the disastrous losses in the U.S. subprime mortgage market of the past few years, the Germans have proven themselves to be completely devoid of any banking or financial skill. Perhaps that's the kind of thing that naturally happens to a society a couple of generations after they murder or expel their entire Jewish population.

Satisfying as it would be to fleece the Fourth Reich (or whatever number they're up to), I soon realized that this option was also not realistic. The German banks do not have the kind of cash they'd need to buy out my stake in IcebergCarwash, having loaned it all to the Greeks and the Irish. ("Hi, Rudolf. Paddy O'Reilly here. Need to borrow about $6 billion 'till next Tuesday. I'm good for it, by Mary and Joseph.")

So that leaves me a bit disappointed, but undeterred. I will continue to attempt to find a purchaser for my half of IcebergCarwash, while fending off FBB's attempts to snatch it away from me via what is sure to be a lowball offer.

In the meantime, feel free to make your best offers, using the comments section.

CONTEST!!!

OK, all you blog readers, time to get involved.

It's almost December, and things have finally taken a turn towards the chilly. MBB asked me this morning "Is it going to be cold today?"
My response "It's the end of November, and the current temperature is 34 degrees, my guess would be yes."
Seven year old was in the room and asked if it would get snowy soon. I said maybe, though it tends to snow more in January around here, though things have gotten a late start I would not be surprised to still have significant snow in March.

Either way "When will it snow?" is now on our minds, and YOU can give in a prediction for a chance to win a cool prize!

The guess is for the first significant snow fall of two inches or more where we live. You do not need to live anywhere near here to put in your guess. If dates of participants do not overlap we will give a two day window on either side (so if you pick November 29, you would win if it snows on November 27, 28, 29, 30 or 1st of December, unless one of those exact dates are picked by someone else). If we don't know who you are, use the "contact us" button on the side bar to let us know!

Good Luck and Happy Shoveling!

Movin' Out

Normally the babies in this family are kind enough to sleep through the night either from a few days old all the way to as old as a month. By "sleep through the night," I mean seven hours or more.

This baby, who is just so incredibly delicious, had not gotten the memo. So, to make my life easier, and maintain the sleep patterns of his teen-aged roommate, he has been in my room since his birth at the very beginning of June.

Apparently, almost six months old is when he has realized the wonderful nature of uninterrupted sleep, and has been doing a nice stretch from 10pm until 5am, eating and going back to sleep until seven or eight.

So last night was the night. His crib was all set up by his very eager, aforementioned roommate, and in he went. He looked so tiny in that big huge crib, so vulnerable in smooshed into the corner with this wide expanse of mattress before him. I swaddled him really well, and put him in.

I think my mistake was that he was already asleep when he went in. So 2 o'clock in the morning, he woke up with a "Where the heck am I?" cry that continued for an hour. An hour of patting and cooing, and pacifier reinserting. The eager roommate groggily made her way to her sister's conveniently vacant bed, and eventually the boy fell back to sleep.

I hope he doesn't miss me as much as I miss him. It feels really weird that he's not in my room anymore, but really, I should have moved him months ago.

Hopefully we'll all get some sleep this week, and he will take to his new digs.

In the meantime, I think I need a nap.

If You Rouse Me, Do I Not Wake?

If I look really tired, I probably AM really tired, and pointing out the dark circles under my eyes...IS NOT PARTICULARLY HELPFUL!.

That is all.

It's Hard to Know

There are a number of people who stand outside the local grocery stores collecting money for themselves.

They don't come everyday, but each seems to have his "day," and his spot. They are mostly men, and mostly old looking. They could be very young actually, but they look so weathered and beaten. I often wonder the circumstances that got them to this point, and I always notice my own reaction to each one, based on nothing but a twelve second or so interaction.

Some I give and some I don't give, and it's all very visceral. The aggressive guys, who come up to my car, I have a harder time giving to. The guy who chased me through the parking lot shouting I should write him check I don't give to. It was years ago, and I still just react negatively to him.

Then there's the guy who stands quietly at the door, says nothing, but if you give him something he will shower you with Brachos. I don't know what he does if you don't give him, I don't know what any of them do, or say, under their breath in that situation. I wouldn't want anyone wishing ill on me. Today I gave him something as I went in. When I came out I put the bags and the baby in the car, and he walked up behind me, and took my cart back to the sidewalk. I thanked him, and thought "that was nice, he seems like a nice guy." Really though I don't know.

He spends at least one day a week begging, and relying on the kindness of strangers. Was he a nice guy who never got a break? Did he have a full life in his country of origin, and the language and cultural barriers were too difficult for him here that he ended up doing this to sustain himself? Or did he have years of misspent opportunities, illegalities and now bad health that has brought him to this juncture? Does he have a family? Is he an ogre to them, mean and hateful, perhaps violent, so that they want nothing to do with him, and his personal interactions have been reduced to a few fleeting moments with passing shoppers? Is he quiet and low key because he is embarrassed by his situation, or because he is a misanthrope who must rely on strangers even as he loathes them? If I knew him better would he be the type of guy to shake my hand while sticking the other one in my purse?

I have no way of knowing. The guy I choose not to give could be the guy who is more gregarious, generous with his family and his peers, perhaps even collecting not only for himself, thus more willing to be aggressive.

I don't even know if these guys keep Shabbos, though ostensibly that is what they are collecting for.

There are different schools of thought on this whole topic. Does giving these people perpetuate something that should be stopped? Do we pay the charlatans so if there is one honestly needy person, they will be helped? And what does charlatan mean? Does it mean these people are going home to houses with nothing missing, but they solicit funds because they get a thrill by getting over on people? Or have they chosen this as a way to "make money?" If so, we could opt out. But people who are at the point in which they are reliant on others for their sustenance, have chosen a tough way to go. Granted, they have no schedule, no boss, no dress code, but no security, scorn and disdain as well. Does paying these people help elevate this way of life to something less scornful, thereby encouraging more of the same? If we take a way the shame, how can we know who is real? Do we use the "Vietnam" model- pay 'em all and let G-d sort it out?"

I have many questions, and no real answers. I am suspect of anyone who thinks this issue is black and white, from either viewpoint.

RANT!

I'm sure somewhere in the archives there is a similarly titled post. It's actually amazing to me, knowing me, that there aren't more of these annoyed ranting posts. There is so much I can rant about, but at this time my attention turns to chicken.

Yes, chicken. Not the live ones, but the repackaged kind you find at your local friendly grocery/deli/meat/fish/sushi/bakery/let's try to put everyone else out of business-establishment. The store I frequent generally does not sell manufacturers' packaged chicken, and repacks all the brands that don't come pre-packed, thus the repackaging!

Usually my chicken of choice is chicken in quarters, and often just thighs. Recently and at other occasional instances I have purchased chicken in eighths.

HOW CAN YOU CALL IT "CHICKEN IN EIGHTHS" IF YOU LEAVE OUT ONE OR BOTH OF THE WINGS!?!!?!? THEN IT'S CHICKEN IN SIXTHS OR SEVENTHS!!!!!

I'm no math wiz, but come on!! it's not in eighths if there are pieces missing is it? (No, really, now I wonder if I'm wrong...hmmm...)

Some might say, "don't worry it evens out," like the time there was a WING IN MY PACK OF THIGHS!!! A WING????

You go shopping, come home thinking you have all the pieces everyone likes, and boom! Either not enough wings, or in this last case an extra one. What is up with that? Sell the chicken with the darn wings, and if they're missing or broken they should fill it in with a wing from the breast used for cutlets and then have one less in the "pack of wings" they sell.

This isn't Rocket Science, it's not any kind of science. It's hardly even math. It's common sense. When people buy chicken they want all the pieces, or they would buy packages of specific pieces separately.

And end up with my missing wing!

A Nice Monday Night

Based on my background, I'm not that into the whole Rebbe thing. Neither is MBB, but it's in his blood. His family goes way back with the Vizhnitz Chassidim and Rebbes, with his great and great great grandparents being in the Rebbe's inner circle, and also hosting the Rebbe when he came to their town in Europe. As the story goes, the Rebbe saved MBB's grandfather's life. In the 1920s MBB's grandfather wanted to go to America with his twin brother, so their father said "fine, we'll ask the Rebbe," assuming that the Rebbe would never agree to send them to such a G-dless place. The Rebbe said they should go. Their father never made it out of Europe, and ended up ashes like so many other Jews of that time.

Once a year, the current Rebbe from Bnei Brak's son, the Av Bais Din, comes to New York. He goes to a few different cities, one of them our fair town. Mostly it's a fund raising trip, and his gabbaim/shamashim (the entourage, if you will)put on the hard sell to get you to come see him, and to donate. MBB got the call this week (as he has in the past),and set up a time to meet with Rav Mendel. Last year MBB's uncle pressed upon him that I should go along. After much back and forth, I ended up going.

Rav Mendel was so warm and welcoming, and speaking in Yiddish to MBB,catching up on the old family connections, he turned to me and asked if I understood that language. I responded no, at which time he switched to a beautiful ISRAELI Hebrew, and continued our meeting that way. I was very taken by his smile, and his genuine desire to daven (give brachos) for the names we had written on the paper.

So this year, I told MBB I wanted to come along, there had been some things he had said in our last meeting that I found very helpful and uplifting in a non spiritual way, and I wanted to go. We brought the boy along.

In the past, MBB has made sure to get the first appointment, because these meetings tend to run overtime for some people. However, this year The Rav was here on a weekday, and we had a seven o'clock time. We managed to make it there on time, but we had to wait. After about ten minutes, MBB came over to me (I was in a corridor with another woman,off the main room where all the men were waiting), and showed me that we had mistakenly taken the checkbook that had no more checks in it. He felt we needed to rectify the situation immediately and I offered to run home and get a checkbook while he would continue to wait, and hopefully I'd be back in time to see the Rav for a few minutes.

MBB was going to walk me to the car, so as we started to leave the Shamash, a really friendly, happy fellow, came over and asked why MBB was going, it would only be a few more minutes. At which time, MBB showed him the mistake, the empty checkbook.

"Hust du a credit card?"

MBB laughed, and turned toward the door. I looked at him and said "Really?"

So MBB turned back and asked the guy "Du takkeh nemen credit cards? (do you really take credit cards?)"

"Zicher!"

So I stayed, and we went in soon after, again the Rav inquired if I understood, and then turned to Hebrew, asking me how I was, and again giving me chizuk for my role as a mother. More catch up on the family, a note of being impressed with the name of my sixth girl, who is named for my grandmother, but it's an approximation of what her name was, so it's the same name as the Rav's grandmother. He then davened for those people we asked him to, and we left.

It was a nice experience.

Even for this Yekkish girl.

How You Take It

I am not one for attributing reasons for events. I think it's a slippery slope, and we cannot pretend to know the mind (k"y) of G-d. I also know, that many people look at Hashgacha Pratis stories and snicker, thinking, "Hey, I already know there's a G-d." Then there's the school of thought, "well why did the bad thing that was avoided have to happen at all, who caused that? The same Being, that allowed it to turn out well, that's who, so what's your point."

It's all related, and it's all about the message. Sometimes, it could just be G-d's way of reminding us that He is there, and we need to pay attention, or fix something, or pray better, and sometimes He just wants to show us how much He loves us. It's up to the person who hears the story, or has it happen to them to determine how it will affect their life. Because to just let it sit there, as nothing but a good story, that would be sad.

I learned a lot personally about the power of prayer, when I had my son. There is so much that we beseech G-d for, but we also try on our own. If we pray for good kids, or a good living, or a good mate, we also do things that will help accomplish this goal, and that can sometimes muddy the picture of how it comes from Above.

There was nothing I could do to have a boy, except pray. That was the only part that I could have a hand in. That was it. It became so clear that the power of prayer was all I had. I received this gift, and there was no way for me to point to something that I had done, and attribute even a part of it to my efforts. And truthfully, all things in this world are like that, we think we have a hand in it, and G-d did set up the world to run in a natural way,so we have to try, but this just opened my eyes to how much it's really all about Him.

For those of you who have been in this place for years I envy you. I've read in the past about the joy that comes from knowing that He rules and runs the world, but when you have a chance to see it and feel it? It's indescribable. There's knowing it, and there's KNOWING it.

So on that note....I know why my fridge broke.

The fridge I wanted to replace the fridge I had, now comes only with an ice maker and water dispenser(inside). I didn't feel I needed it, but if I was going to have a filter blocking up part of the fridge and the ice maker taking up space in the freezer, I might as well use them!

The best place to hook it up was through the wall to the Pesach kitchen(it came with the house)because the sink is on the exact same wall as the fridge. The plumber TOUCHED THE PIPE WITH HIS HAND, and it broke in half!

Can you say flood Erev Yom Tov?

My Bills Will Be Lower...

We all know how much people need people. That's what's so great about family and friends, it's hard to go through this life without either. Sometimes though, they provide more of a lifeline then we realize.

I know my two closest friends are there for me. Moral support, helping hands and sounding boards.

I did not realize how much they motivate and organize me. It's hard, sometimes, when you're not working to push yourself to stay scheduled, to do that one extra errand now, as opposed to waiting until the next day when it will be raining and you have to schlep out and do something with a baby in tow, trying to maneuver between the raindrops and keeping the little fella dry (of course there's always that third friend who steps in, and says, give me your list, you are NOT taking your baby out on a day like this!).

It seems that the first two friends, (along with another friend, who I really don't speak to often enough)went off on a trip, where there's a time difference, and a calling card involved in contacting them. I am so happy for them, But I miss them. Not only shooting the breeze, but when I want to pick up the phone and just get that extra push to finish what I need to finish, I don't have anyone to call. Well, I do (see above, shopping for me friend),but how many times can I call one person? When the other two are around, I get to spread amongst three of them. There should be a rule that only one of my friends can go away at any one time. But that would be selfish, and if there's anything friendship teaches you, it's the opposite of that.

Travel safe! Come home soon!

Quick Thoughts Early on Election Night

Richard Blumenthal has won the Senate seat from Connecticut. Inexplicably, he was smashed in the head with a metal chair as he ran up for the acceptance

I tried to follow the coverage on Fox News.com, but the drool emanating from the computer threatened to electrocute me.

We would have voted for Jimmy Mcmillan, from the Rent is Too Damn High party, but when we saw him listed on the ballot on the "Rent is 2 Damn High" Party, we deemed it too unprofessional.

Jon Stewart is not as powerful as he thinks he is.

Sign of a shoo-in: I didn't even know Schumer was running until I went to vote.

If the crooked non-lawyer running for Town Justice wins...I will probably do nothing interesting.

Carl Palladino is projected to have lost the race for governor, and now can continue his life as a regular crazy person, instead of as a famous crazy person

We All Come Around...

I was completely unaware that certain things in life are only appreciated at a certain age. I mean, I knew it, I just was so shocked when it happened. Basically, I became my Mother. Not in a "go to your room," way (though there is some of that), more in a "look children, horses," kind of way.

Specifically the fall. I use to hate to drive over the GW Bridge when my mother was driving because she took the boring old Palisades Parkway, nothing but trees to look at. My father always took the Rt.4 and Rt.17 way, and you could play about three rounds of the A-B-C game by the time you got to the local back roads (where if you knew where to look, you'd find an X at Fox Run Road, which is a U shaped street, so if you missed it the first time there was a second sign you could catch). My mother always marveled at how stunning the Palisades was in the fall, I would just snort, and settle in for a boring old drive.

Last week I went over the GWB via the Palisades Parkway, I could not get over how magnificent it was. Truthfully, my own streets and neighborhood are just as gorgeous with the mountains rising up in all their red, orange and yellow bedecked splendor. I was just so taken by it. Not just last week either. I drove up to the Bear Mountain Bridge to really get good foliage views. The first time, I was too early. There was a lot of color around here, but as I traveled north it got greener and greener. The second time I went it had just started:




Why does it take so long to appreciate this?

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

The Associated Press announced today that American Media, the publisher of The National Enquirer, announced that it plans to file for bankruptcy protection in about two weeks.
The company plans to file a "prepackaged" plan, which would allow it to emerge from Chapter 11 relatively quickly.
Under a "pre-pack" (as cool Finance people refer to it), a company negotiates terms with its major creditors prior to filing the bankruptcy petition.

American Media said that 80% of its existing bondholders already favor the plan, which calls for them to forgive their debt in exchange for an equity stake in the new, post-bankruptcy company.

At this time, it is unclear to us whether or not the prepackaged bankruptcy plan will include any sort of cash infusion from outside investors. However, IcebergCarwash has learned that there might very well be such an investor group, and that its members are rumored to include:

* Elvis
* Three aliens
* A day-old, 35-pound, two-headed baby

As of press time, the Loch Ness Monster's spokespeople had yet to return IcebergCarwash's calls seeking comment.