George Best, RIP
by
Bill Bonner
by Bill Bonner
Britain's most
famous alcoholic has just died. The papers and newswires are full
of farewells. More below...
Meanwhile,
our old friend, Jim Rogers was in town last week. What does he think
of the new man at the Fed?
"Disaster.
Bernanke will probably ensure the demise of the Federal Reserve.
It won't be completely his fault Greenspan has laid the foundations
but the problem is that Bernanke doesn't understand currency markets...
"He is the
guy who said we control the printing presses and we will run them
as fast as we have to. He's the guy who says it doesn't matter if
the United States has the biggest trade deficit ever. I'm not the
only person who's getting worried about it. The Iranians are going
to start trading oil in non-U.S. dollars next year and there are
other people starting to try to figure out what in the hell to do
about this situation.
"Bernanke does
not understand that on the contrary, he thinks there isn't a problem.
You know we've had two Central Banks in the United States before,
they both failed and this one looks like it's going to fail too."
What will happen
to the U.S. dollar?
"In 2003 and
2004, everyone was selling the U.S. dollar. It was on the font page
of the New York Times for about three days in December 2004.
That kind of coverage is always a sure sign that whatever the subject
is, it's about to go the other way. That rally [in the dollar] is
continuing partly because the United States has given the multinational
corporations these gigantic tax breaks to bring money back into
the United States this year, so that is what they are doing.
"I don't know
how much further the rally has to go, but I have a feeling that
something may happen to cause the final spike. It could be that
Bush is going to pull out of Iraq sooner than expected, or it could
be bird flu decimating Europe, but not America. But whenever it
is that causes the final spike, I urge you to sell. I am still extremely
bearish on the U.S. dollar fundamentally in the long term."
Looking at
a chart of the dollar is like looking at an EKG of a dying man.
From 1800 until 1935 the lines go up and down. A dollar bought a
dollar's worth of goods and services in 1800...in 1850...in 1900...and
up until about 1935. At that point, the line begins to fall. It
does not rise again. Instead, each and every year it loses purchasing
power, so that by 2005 the 1800 dollar is only worth about 5 cents.
We are not
ancient, but even we can recall a much stronger dollar. In the autumn
of 1972, we drove across the United States. We remember gasoline
stations advertising: 25 cents a gallon!
It seems so
long ago...another world...a dream-world. It makes us long for our
youth...for our old '53 Chevy pick-up (we paid $250 for it)...for
our old house in New Mexico (we built it ourselves for less than
$10,000)...for our old hair! Alas, it is all gone.
But one thing
has neither aged, nor evolved, nor corroded, nor lost its value
in all that time gold. It was still illegal to hold gold back
then can you believe it, dear reader...is there any policy so
stupid that politicians would not declare it the law of the land?
But then, an ounce of gold was worth about the same thing as a new
suit. Today, you can still get a new suit for an ounce of gold.
And even during the time of Julius Caesar, two thousand years ago,
an ounce of gold would buy you a toga and a belt.
The last feeble
link between gold and paper money was cut by Richard Nixon on August
15, 1971. Since then, the dollar floats on air...like a feather...blown
by the winds of the investment world...but gradually and steadily
drifting down. Where will it end?
Perhaps a future
government will do what de Gaulle did. Maybe they will take off
a zero or two and issue a 'new dollar'. Or maybe they will do what
Argentina did changing the name of currency itself. If so, we
have a suggestion. We propose that the new currency be called the
'Greenpeso' in honor of America's most revered Fed chief...
What kind of
honor would be more fitting? *** We have never killed anyone. But
we read the obituaries with approval. Only when a body comes to
rest can we bend down and have a good look at it.
Reading carefully,
dodging polite lies and chutzpah, we often learn something. George
Best is "coming to the end of the long road of his ill-health,"
said his doctor last night. He reached it this morning.
Who is George
Best? He is a man who was once a talented soccer player, then a
talented celebrity, tout de suite a talented womanizer, and when
all his other talents seem to have failed him, a talented drinker.
His career in soccer even included several stints in America, with
the Los Angeles Aztecs, the Fort Lauderdale Strikers and the San
Jose Earthquakes.
"The 59-year-old...has
struggled with alcoholism," all his life, says the Daily Telegraph.
Yet, from the evidence, the man didn't seem to struggle at all;
he gave in without a fight, drinking as many as 9 bottles of white
wine per day, even after being diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver.
"The George
Best tragedy," continues the Telegraph, was a "classic...a
man brought to ruin by a tragic flaw...Booze blighted everything.
It destroyed his career, wrecked his marriages and brought financial
ruin.
"It stole his
dignity, fuelled his self-loathing and unleashed the violence within
him. It ravaged his looks, corroded his liver and finally it is
demanding, prematurely, his life..."
Here, too,
we take issue with the Telegraph's sniffy judgment. Best
had everything men dream of. By the age of 17 he was earning £1,000
a week which was a lot of money in those days and
was already a sports hero. He was smart and handsome with a natural
Irish charm that was catnip to women. He was surrounded by them...adored
by them...the most beautiful women in the world.
"I used to
go missing a lot," he explained in his later after-dinner speeches...with
Miss Canada...Miss United Kingdom...Miss World. Miss World, 1973,
Marjorie Wallace, had her title taken away after romping around
publicly and disgracefully with Best.
Best was no
Buffett. There was no bad habit he wanted to give up...no extravagance
he didn't want to indulge in...and no imprudence he didn't want
to commit. When it came to money, he didn't worry about the return
on his cash. He didn't count on it ever returning at all. By middle
age he was flat broke.
One of his
most famous one-liners was: "I spent a lot of money on booze, birds
and fast cars. The rest I just squandered."
Later
in life, Best laughed at his own dissolution. He would recount the
moment it all went bad: "Tell me, Mr. Best, where did it all go
wrong?" asked the waiter as he delivered vintage champagne to the
footballer in a luxury hotel suite. At the time £20,000 was scattered
on the bed, which also happened to contain Miss Universe.
Whether
you take Mr. Best's life as a cautionary tale, or an inspiring one,
is entirely up to you. He could have lived gray and sensibly like
the rest of us. Instead, he lived in Technicolor and never seemed
to regret any of it.
When liver
problems caught up with him, the aging sports star declared: "I've
stopped drinking, but only while I'm asleep." He got a liver transplant,
and briefly went on the wagon, no drinking and no women: "the worst
20 minutes of my life." Soon after, he turned yellow and died in
a hospital across town with tubes in his nose.
George Best,
RIP.
November
26, 2005
Bill
Bonner [send
him mail] is the author, with Addison Wiggin, of Financial
Reckoning Day: Surviving the Soft Depression of The 21st
Century and
Empire of Debt: The Rise Of An Epic Financial Crisis.
Copyright
© 2005 Bill Bonner
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