Skip to main content

Ticker Shock

It was somewhat surreal watching the stock price of my current client plummeting like there was no bottom all day yesterday. By late afternoon, the otherwise upbeat marketing types that sit in cubicles around mine, were mulling credit default swaps, sub-prime mortgages, derivatives, foreclosures - the whole enchilada of economic woes that defines these times. Clearly, everyone felt anxious and no one was quite able to focus on their job.

These things are contagious. I found myself carrying it over to another building where I had a meeting. My co-worker there had until then been buried under deadlines and had not paid attention to the stock price. When I mentioned it, his disbelief gave way to pessimism and fear. It was not a very productive meeting with everyone talking about what all this means to our lives, homes and jobs. We were feeding into each others' fears and worries until the sum of all our negativity leads us into a situation where we have real reason to panic. I wonder if this is how it feels before the credit default swap tsunami strikes.

Comments

ggop said…
Heard a great quote on Fresh Air (catch yesterday's podcast or online broadcast at their website)

"We privatize profits and socialize losses."

You and me HC will be paying for the colossal blunders committed by these so called "geniuses" of Wall Street.

I used to feel the MBA types are smart and we engineers are dorky. Now I realize all they learn in business school is to LIE.

Next time someone tells me they attended business school the first impression will just fall a notch. Especially if they were former techies.. :-)
Heartcrossings said…
ggop - After spending years with operation and data analysts I have come to realize that numbers can be cooked to tell whatever story you want to tell or better the powers that be want to have heard. If you can't trust the numbers there is little else that you can. I guess the Wall Street geniuses cooked one number too many this time...

Will check out the podcast.

Popular posts from this blog

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques