irrational exuberance

 

Wall Street

I don't know if Spring came early this year, or if we're going to have more Winter. ...

Some really beautiful, nice weather has descended, where I live.  What a treat!

I notice, every year, in the first day or two of nice weather, especially if it's on a weekend day,  vehicles going by on the road, outside the window, engage in what I call "exuberant driving."

        Some cars and trucks, of course, just drive regular, but some want to zoom, and rev their engines, or get rid of their mufflers, or whatever it is they do to cause their vehicles to express themselves more loudly.

Motorcycles vibrate past, joyously.

Exuberantly.

        And when I think of the word "exuberant," I remember the economist Alan Greenspan saying the phrase "irrational exuberance," in 1996.

He warned, then, that too many investors were stampeding to buy "dot-com" stock, and that the "bubble" was bound to burst.

A stock on the stock market looks good, and a bunch of people buy it, then more people join them because they want to profit, too, & then having so many people buy the stock all at once causes the price to go up, and then the stock can become what they call "over-valued."

In 1996 I worked from a home office, and the TV would be on in the living room sometimes, and I would generally tune it to CNBC to learn about money and investing.

        After Mr. Greenspan gave his opinion using that phrase, "irrational exuberance," the news-readers and announcers on CNBC all seemed to adopt those words and use them as often as possible:  irrational exuberance; irrational exuberance.

It was funny - they just loved having a new thing to say. ...

Alan Greenspan

-30-

oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

 

Remembering things led me to add up and consider how many years ago - how long ago some of these experiences occurred, and it doesn't seem possible that so much time has passed.

It reminded me of a Fleetwood Mac song written by Stevie Nicks, called "Landslide."

-----------------------------------------------------

I took my love, I took it down

Climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills

'Til the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons - of my life?

Mmm, mmh

Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm gettin' older, too

Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm gettin' older, too

I'm gettin' older, too

Ah, take my love, take it down

Oh, climb a mountain and turn around

And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills

Well, the landslide will bring it down

And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills

Well, the landslide will bring it down

Oh, the landslide will bring it down

-30-

if my Friends could see me now

 The song I played on the piano at Shakey's Pizza was

"If My Friends Could See Me Now."

You can hear it - (not my playing, but someone else playing it on piano) -

on You Tube.

type in:

If My Friends Could See Me Now, piano

uploader / channel:  Mazzikaty

=30=

the end of stage fright

 When I was in first or second grade I started piano lessons, at my parents' insistence.  I was driven to the home of the piano teacher - a Mrs. Pfeiffer - and after I had been taking lessons for a while, I learned to play a song which I was to play at a recital.

Recital.

I remember that word.

It hung over my head with a menacing air.

        I was scared to play the piano in front of people.

        Then we moved away from Mineral City, Ohio, to our new home in Rootstown, Ohio, where my dad would be pastor of the First Congregational United Church Of Christ.  (It was within walking distance of the parsonage, where we lived.)

Moving away did not excuse me from having to play in the piano recital.

(You can run, but you can't hide.)

On the night of the recital, dressed as if for church, I was driven back to either Dover or New Philadelphia, where the event was held, and I played my song when it was my turn.  It went well.

But I didn't want to play the piano in front of an audience ever again.

It made me too nervous.

Recently I remembered that when I worked as a summer girl and was really bored with living in "the suburbs," the family I worked for went to Shakey's Pizza Parlor for supper one evening.

There was a piano there.  

No one was playing it. 

And I got up, went over to that piano, and played a song I knew by heart.

My teenage boredom had overcome my "stage fright"! 

-30-

to pick up, or not to pick up: that is the question

 Sunday on the phone, Mrs. Wolfson said to me, "I usually don't answer calls from a number I don't know."  She didn't even know why she answered my call that day, but was glad she did.

She should have her own business - Being Nice On The Phone.

        There is so much that I want to do.

        Snow fell this morning.

        I will - "keep writing".

-30-

I called to share a memory...

 

a house in Minnetonka, Minnesota

I remembered some things from the summer when I was a "summer girl" (baby-sitter and mother's helper) in Minnetonka, Minnesota, and I thought of the family that lived across the street from the family I lived with and worked for.

The people across the street had a room called a den, with books.  And they had a grand piano. 

One day we (I, and the little girls I watched over) were there at their house, both parents were gone, and their summer girl helped to watch the children, and I wanted to play that grand piano because there was no music in the house where I was staying, except from the radio.

I took all the decorative items on the grand piano's lid - off, and set them on the carpeted floor, and lifted the lid, so we could get the sound.  And I played.  

        The mom came home - came in the front door, and - gasped.  Because her stuff was on the floor.  I hurried to tell her, No, nothing is broken, everything is fine, I just took the things off the piano so I could open the lid.  It's all right.

I found her name and phone number on the Internet, and I called her today, and we had a nice conversation.  She asked how I remembered these things, and I told her I write in my free time and when you write, you remember things you might not have thought of, otherwise.

She totally "got it," right away.  She understood.

I shared a couple of memories, and she said, "This is nice.  So - keep writing."

She said her two sons tell her not to answer phone calls from a number she doesn't know.  And I said, "Now you're going to tell them you answered a call from a number you don't know, and you had a really nice conversation - and they're going to smack their foreheads and say, "Oh my God!"

lol.

She was very nice.

It was a good conversation.  I think it made her happy.

-30-

before caucus

 

        I was remembering this one state senator who got elected in the early or mid-90s.  He came from "the rezz," as they say.  He had long hair, tied back in a ponytail.

He was calm, and articulate.

He spoke without deviousness or cliche.

        One day there was a band playing in the state capitol rotunda - students from a school, I think.  Someone commented on the music, and somebody else said something funny - I forget what it was, I cannot remember the specific story, now.  But it was amusing, and I told a couple of people, and we laughed and enjoyed it.

I saw the senator from the reservation, on the third floor looking down at the musicians.  I went over and told him the comments and convo - he listened to me carefully and then said, with a serious facial expression and deadpan tone, "That's funny."

-30-