The country is positive about the economy, nervous about the stock market, horrified about what's coming out of Washington, and universally opposed to a trade war. It is prospering, but most people are carefully looking over both shoulders, biting their nails over how soon it all will end.
That is my takeaway from the Mad Hedge Fund Trader 2018 Spring U.S. Road Show, where I traveled around the country listening to subscribers, individual investors, hedge fund managers, portfolio managers, and financial advisors.
My Global Strategy Luncheons gave guests a welcome respite from the week's never-ending freak show of the G7 meltdown, the Singapore photo ops, a Fed interest rate rise, and the latest immigration atrocity.
The markets cooperated nicely for the week, with the Mad Hedge Trade Alert Service up four out of five days. That took my trailing 12-month performance up to 61.12%, a new decade high. It was a week of listening to tales of mortgages and student loans paid off, second homes and third cars paid for, and life changes.
Fortunately, I take adulation well. In fact, I can take that all week long.
It is also looking like we'll get a good turnout this year at the Mad Hedge Lake Tahoe Conference on October 26-27 (click here for the link).
I visited Fort Worth, TX; New Orleans, LA; Washington, DC; Philadelphia, PA; New York, NY; and Denver, CO, and a lot of places in between. It all gave me a great 30,000-foot view on the state of the country in general and the risks posed to your retirement portfolio specifically.
What follows is not as anything as grand as a broad unified view nor as micro as a Trade Alert but a series of random observations, thoughts, and impressions.
When I first hitchhiked my way through downtown Fort Worth, TX, during the 1960s, it was nothing better than a deteriorating slum. Today, it is an art deco architectural masterpiece, reborn through billions of dollars' worth of Bass Brothers investment.
When I visited the Kimbell Art Museum I found a van Gogh worth at least $50 million donated by a Bass spouse. I thought "Damn, if only had done that trade that would be my name on that donation, not theirs."
At my New Orleans luncheon I dined with one of the most knowledgeable oil players I ever have met. Venezuela is the next failed state, and 1.5 million barrels a day of Texas tea isn't coming back to the market anytime soon. That is a headache for the many south coast refineries built specifically to process their heavy crude.
Of course, Bourbon Street at night is always an eye-opener, with strippers casually flaunting their wares and the tourists eating it all up. It seems to be getting bigger, more neon lights, and more gaudy every year. The crawfish gumbo at Antoine's is to die for as usual, the city's oldest restaurant.
During my free hour, I ran through The National WWII museum, which my uncle helped open 15 years ago. I spent the most time in the "Solomon Victory Theater" section, where both my father and my uncle fought on Guadalcanal and took the photo below of the plaque describing Mitch's Medal of Honor citation.
In fact, many visitors were there honoring long dead fathers, grandfathers, and uncles, and great aunts who served. It was all very inspirational, showing the greatness the country can achieve when we all pull together.
I landed late in Washington DC and decided to drive past the White House, which is beautiful at night bathed in light. After circling the block several times, Google Maps said it was right in front of me, but I couldn't see it.
It was only when I stopped the car that I realized that while every other government building was brightly illuminated, the White House was totally blacked out. This hasn't happened since 9/11. I guess I have to believe the Secret Service when they tell me that death threats are up 400%.
After a fabulous Chesapeake Bay crab chowder, I visited the Naval Academy at Annapolis where I had to make a brief stop for some government work. Seeing the young midshipmen walking briskly to classes in their starched white uniforms wistfully reminded me of my youth.
I made the biggest mistake of my life when I was accepted here (my dad was politically very well connected) but didn't attend because it was politically unpopular during the Vietnam War.
It was a battle getting to my Philadelphia lunch on time since the rural Maryland speed limit is only 55 miles per hour. Still, it was a joy seeing all those bright red barns and sagging farmhouses.
At one point, Google Maps humorously had me on a freeway that wasn't built yet, it still clogged with earth movers and Caterpillar tractors. Once across the state line into Pennsylvania, the speed limit rose to 65, but the traffic slowed to 30.
The Union League Club in the City of Brotherly Love is a spectacular Victorian red brick edifice run by an ebullient retired Marine master sergeant. I was gratified to learn that everyone around the table had earned 50% a year from my Trade Alerts, some for many years.
One guest was the chief scientist for The Seeing Eye, the chief provider of guide dogs for the blind, who said he had been bitten 2,000 times during his career.
Driving out of town I paused at the Barnes Foundation to visit the world's largest private collection of Renoir's. I reckoned the massive collection of early blue period Picasso's, van Gogh's, Matisse's, Gauguin's, and Monet's was worth at least $1 billion a room, and there were a lot of rooms. I have been trying to get into this private collection for 45 years, and it only recently opened to the public.
Coming in from New Jersey, the Big Apple still looks incomplete to me missing its Twin Towers, even though it's been 17 years.
New York City is more crowded than ever, and it is now almost impossible to get cross town during the day. I had to jump out of cabs and run the last few blocks to make appointments with the big hedge funds. Hamilton has mercifully run its course, with ticket prices finally under $1,000, and a revival of Hello Dolly now taking the Great White Way by storm.
Leaving town was a headache. The Uber cab took 1 1/2 hours to JFK. Then after we left the terminal, the captain announced there were 30 planes ahead of us awaiting takeoff. We didn't leave the ground for 90 minutes.
I couldn't understand why I had such great difficulty getting a hotel reservation in Denver two months in advance. When I arrived, I found out why. The Mile High City was hosting both Gay Pride Week and Comecon on the same weekend attracting 200,000 visitors.
The lobby of the Sheraton was packed with groups of women holding hands with women and men holding hands with men, mixing with groups of lightsaber wielding Wookiee's, Darth Vader's, and Princess Leia's.
Only in America.
My Uber driver told me that the bloom was off the rose for the marijuana boom, legalized only in 2012. Wages for retail pot sellers had made the round trip from $8 an hour to $80, then back to $8.
Big money from out of town has turned it into a low-margin high-volume business with market share going to the lowest cost provider. Prices are collapsing. Companies don't bother to drug test anymore since no one can pass, but drunk driving convictions are down 25%.
Getting out of town was yet another nightmare. The Sheraton promised to buy me a new suitcase after the bell desk broke the handle off mine. Traffic was horrendous. United Airlines (UAL) threatened to bump me off an overbooked flight unless I upgraded my seat, a sympathetic Marine infantryman's wife in customer support making sure I made the flight.
I made it back home in time for Father's Day where I received my breakfast in bed "Best Dad in the Galaxy T-Shirt." With five kids versus the national average of 1.7, I am doing my part to save America.
I can't wait for the 2018 European Road Show to start in two weeks. Is anyone from a city I missed interested in a Mad Hedge Fund Trader 2018 FALL U.S. Road Show?
