I thought that I’d go to the Museum today, to look at the Matisse and the Bellows, but when I woke up, I realized that I wasn’t going anywhere. It was good to be in bed. It is never good to be in bed when I am in full possession. I was not sick in the least; I was just tired. And this despite the presence of the gondola men on the balcony, jackhammering for all but for hours on end. To me it was music: the work on the balcony was progressing; soon we’d be a be able to go outside again without boarding an elevator. Hammer away! I kept drifting off into strange dreams. In one of them, Ray Soleil got married, for good business reasons. Yikes!

It’s the week before the next Remicade infusion, and I’m giving myself a time out of Barcelonian proportions. I don’t know how to put it otherwise; I’m simply enjoying life and doing as little as possible that isn’t fun. My mind is on vacation, but, mindful of Mose Allison, I hope that my mouth is not working overtime. I desperately need to listen to Tom Meglioranza’s recording of Winterreise, which I received last week in the mail and planned to listen to right away. In the event, I got as far as “Frühlingstraum.” Then something came up. So, now I have to start all over again. Which would be straightforward if I were not already caught up in watching the first season of Forbrydelsen. What I’ve heard of Tom’s singing is as great as it was when I heard him sing the cycle downtown a few years ago. Very great, in other words. Tom makes you want to know Schubert.

Today is the twentieth anniversary of the SPDR launch, and Kathleen has had a few parties attend. I remember a dinner party in Bermuda, sponsored by Deloitte, at which a banker at our table said, “Why would anyone want an ETF?” That was in 2000. (I remember when thirteen years was a long time.) Discretion forestalls my saying all that I’d like about Kathleen’s achievement; although she has had something to do with most of the five funds that now hold, collectively, 90% of ETF investment today, she has a lot of stories that, naturally, can’t be told, and I don’t trust myself to talk about it. But she is, unquestionably, “the SPDR woman of Wall Street,” which is a great gag if you’re familiar with Kathleen’s sense of direction. She is also the patron saint of this Web site, in every way imaginable. Just a moment of applause is in order.

Drop me a line at rjk@dailyblague.com
This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 29th, 2013 at 6:02 pm.