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I'll be the first to tell you that literary references are pretty much wasted on me.
I'm very shallow, poorly read and have little motivation to change my ways, much to the dismay of Sugar Momma, who these days is happy just to see me change my socks.
She's pretty much given up on all of the rest, although occcasionally I will agree to see a movie based on a piece of literature, as long as it stars Seth Rogen or Rob Schneider. I may no longer be fully malleable, but I am open to suggestion before I roll my eyeballs.
So no one is more surprised than me that what is considered a literary masterpiece would help to coalsesce some of the thoughts that I had during this very nice Thanksgiving holiday.
Pride and Prejudice.
First of all, it was exceedingly nice Thanksgiving because there was no trading on Thursday, Saturday nor Sunday. Normally, I love any day that the market is open for business, but we all needed a break. What few hours of trading that we did have on Friday, despite coming off 100+ points from the intra-day high, resulted in a mere 25 point loss.
If that's not a profitable trading session, then I don't know what is.
Having had a wonderful Thanksgiving Day dinner with family and friends, my two sons and I headed for the Baltimore Ravens and San Francisco 49ers football game that evening.
I'm not much of a football fan, but I was even decked out in a Ray Lewis jersey, as were approximately 20,000 others, although none approached my inherent talent of frightening opponents with a mere sneer.
Since my kids are the social animal that I am not, it was very easy for them to get into the surrounding tailgate culture once we arrived at the off stadium parking lot.
Do I have to remind you that Pride and Prejudice examines the role of environment on behavior?
I was more of an observer.
Among the many things that I noticed at my first tailgate venture was that blue jeans come in a very wide range of waist sizes.
Realizing that there was really no substantive way to turn that observation into a tangible asset, I followed the lead and downed some whipped cream vodka and Baltimore's best, National Bohemian, also known as Natty Boh beer.
By then, we were ready to enter yet another environment, this one much more highly structured and with highly codified terms of conduct..
But before we went to find our seats, both sons had to go to the Boardwalk Fries concession stand. But not to order anything, although we'd done that plenty of times before, but instead to look and see if Joe D, the co-owner was in house.