Well, that time is upon us again, when private jets rain down on Eppley Airfield by the thousands (hundreds?) and every yuppie-wannabe in the city leverages their entitlement-oozing $4000 worth of Berkshire Hathaway shares to join the absurd spectacle known as "Woodstock for Capitalists". It is quite possible, I would imagine, that a line is already forming outside the Qwest center, 16 hours before the doors open tomorrow morning. Although the desire to access information is understandable, given Buffett and Munger's history of prescience and rationality - you can download a transcript twelve hours later; I'm not sure that I will ever understand the fervent behavior of the herd that pushes through those doors and up the stairs and around the corners leading into the auditorium at high speed, so that they can sit the closest to Warren Buffett, 80 years old, and Charlie Munger, 86 years old, as they talk about market dislocations and risk mitigation and how many Coca-Colas Warren has drank in his lifetime.
In that sense, it is strange that I can find the capacity to complain; I have resented so many times the vapid musical acts that engender similar reactions. Surely, this is what I want, right? Haha, well, hardly. Replace disgust with confusion; I am not healed.
Regardless, I sit here excited for the weekend. We shall see...
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