Sunday, November 11, 2012
Your brain only plays if it thinks it can win
Another interesting post from Barking Up The Wrong Tree.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Mauboussin, The Success Equation
Michael J. Mauboussin is always worth reading. Those who are unfamiliar with his pieces for Legg Mason may remember him for his highly acclaimed book More Than You Know: Finding Financial Wisdom in Unconventional Places. He’s back with his third book, which has its roots in a 42-page essay from 2010. The Success Equation: Untangling Skill and Luck in Business, Sports, and Investing (Harvard Business Review Press) is yet another good read.
The premise is straightforward: if we are to make sound decisions, we have to understand the relative roles that skill and luck play. Sometimes these roles are obvious. If I buy a lottery ticket, anything that comes my way is the result of pure luck. If I take on Tom Brady in a football passing contest, I am guaranteed to lose in a most humiliating way because of the gargantuan gap in skill. But most of the time both skill and luck contribute to a given outcome. If we don’t recognize this, and if we don’t understand the properties of skill and luck, we can fall for outsized claims (“the best trading system ever, 200 wins in a row”) or delude ourselves into thinking that simply by practicing more deliberately we can join the pantheon of legendary traders and fund managers.
It’s bad enough that, given the complex nature of markets, trying to succeed in trading or investing requires more than a modicum of luck. Another problem is what Mauboussin calls the paradox of skill: “As skill improves, performance becomes more consistent, and therefore luck becomes more important.” (p. 53) In investing the paradox manifests itself in the following way: As the population of skilled investors increases, with individual retail investors retreating to the sidelines, the variation in skill narrows, and luck becomes more important. (p. 89)
What’s a poor bloke to do? Mauboussin maintains that “in activities where luck plays a strong role, the focus must be on process. Where skill dominates, performance is a dependable barometer of progress. But where luck is a stronger force, the link between process and outcome is broken. A good process can lead to a bad outcome some percentage of the time, and a bad process can lead to a good outcome. Since a good process offers the highest probability of a good outcome over time, the emphasis has to be on process.” (p. 222)
Mauboussin covers a lot of ground in The Success Equation. For instance, he explains what reversion to the mean is and isn’t (it does not imply that results will cluster closer to the average). And he writes about the arc of skill, obvious in aging athletes but also a problem for the aging investor; the peak age for investing skill is 42.
I’m sure that almost everyone will find something in this book that either he hadn’t thought about before, or that he thought about incorrectly.
The premise is straightforward: if we are to make sound decisions, we have to understand the relative roles that skill and luck play. Sometimes these roles are obvious. If I buy a lottery ticket, anything that comes my way is the result of pure luck. If I take on Tom Brady in a football passing contest, I am guaranteed to lose in a most humiliating way because of the gargantuan gap in skill. But most of the time both skill and luck contribute to a given outcome. If we don’t recognize this, and if we don’t understand the properties of skill and luck, we can fall for outsized claims (“the best trading system ever, 200 wins in a row”) or delude ourselves into thinking that simply by practicing more deliberately we can join the pantheon of legendary traders and fund managers.
It’s bad enough that, given the complex nature of markets, trying to succeed in trading or investing requires more than a modicum of luck. Another problem is what Mauboussin calls the paradox of skill: “As skill improves, performance becomes more consistent, and therefore luck becomes more important.” (p. 53) In investing the paradox manifests itself in the following way: As the population of skilled investors increases, with individual retail investors retreating to the sidelines, the variation in skill narrows, and luck becomes more important. (p. 89)
What’s a poor bloke to do? Mauboussin maintains that “in activities where luck plays a strong role, the focus must be on process. Where skill dominates, performance is a dependable barometer of progress. But where luck is a stronger force, the link between process and outcome is broken. A good process can lead to a bad outcome some percentage of the time, and a bad process can lead to a good outcome. Since a good process offers the highest probability of a good outcome over time, the emphasis has to be on process.” (p. 222)
Mauboussin covers a lot of ground in The Success Equation. For instance, he explains what reversion to the mean is and isn’t (it does not imply that results will cluster closer to the average). And he writes about the arc of skill, obvious in aging athletes but also a problem for the aging investor; the peak age for investing skill is 42.
I’m sure that almost everyone will find something in this book that either he hadn’t thought about before, or that he thought about incorrectly.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Smith, Why I Left Goldman Sachs
By now you’ve undoubtedly heard that Greg Smith’s Why I Left Goldman Sachs: A Wall Street Story (Grand Central Publishing, 2012) has little to add to, or even to support, the charges he leveled against the firm in his New York Times op-ed piece. Those looking for evidence that Goldman really is, in Matt Taibbi’s phrase, a great vampire squid, will have to turn elsewhere.
It’s hard to fathom how the author levered his op-ed into an alleged $1.5 million advance except perhaps to suggest that he really did learn how to rip people off at Goldman. As long as I’m being snarky, I might as well point out Smith’s fixation with status and salary. He regularly compares himself to others who advanced through the ranks more quickly than he did. And, although he was initially euphoric over his salary, he begins to feel shortchanged. In the London office, making less than $500,000, he was miffed; he asked for (and not surprisingly did not get) a $1 million bonus.
Smith, who was an intern in the summer of 2000 and became a full-time employee in 2001, essentially divides Goldman into the pre- and post-financial crisis eras. Pre-financial crisis the firm had the highest ethical standards; the client always came first. Post-financial crisis, with former trader Lloyd Blankfein at the helm, the firm lost its moral compass in the search for profits. Such a stark contrast is undoubtedly unwarranted. We mustn’t forget that Smith himself was transitioning from a wide-eyed newbie to a somewhat jaded employee who was not convinced the firm appreciated him sufficiently.
When Smith isn’t being polemical or self-serving, however, he tells a compelling coming-of-age-on-Wall-Street story. He learned what to wear on the trading floor (Brooks Brothers khaki dress pants and dress shirts in different shades of blue) and to how to hang onto clients, even if it meant intentionally losing at ping pong. It was pounded into him that he had to admit and rectify any trading mistake quickly (as he proudly announces, he made only one, which cost Goldman all of $80), and I guess it was a matter of personal judgment just how smashed he could get with clients.
The eager-to-please junior trader is a much more sympathetic character than the vice president who balked when offered the London job. He? London? I don’t know what he expected. Getting sent abroad is often part and parcel of moving up at Goldman. I used to socialize on weekends with a Goldman partner who had earlier logged several years in Hong Kong and London. It was part of the drill.
I’m glad I read this book—if for nothing else than the descriptions of trading floor action. But Goldman lawyers won’t have to stay up late worrying about the potential fallout from Why I Left Goldman Sachs. And I suspect that much more public relations damage was done with the op-ed piece than will be done with this book.
It’s hard to fathom how the author levered his op-ed into an alleged $1.5 million advance except perhaps to suggest that he really did learn how to rip people off at Goldman. As long as I’m being snarky, I might as well point out Smith’s fixation with status and salary. He regularly compares himself to others who advanced through the ranks more quickly than he did. And, although he was initially euphoric over his salary, he begins to feel shortchanged. In the London office, making less than $500,000, he was miffed; he asked for (and not surprisingly did not get) a $1 million bonus.
Smith, who was an intern in the summer of 2000 and became a full-time employee in 2001, essentially divides Goldman into the pre- and post-financial crisis eras. Pre-financial crisis the firm had the highest ethical standards; the client always came first. Post-financial crisis, with former trader Lloyd Blankfein at the helm, the firm lost its moral compass in the search for profits. Such a stark contrast is undoubtedly unwarranted. We mustn’t forget that Smith himself was transitioning from a wide-eyed newbie to a somewhat jaded employee who was not convinced the firm appreciated him sufficiently.
When Smith isn’t being polemical or self-serving, however, he tells a compelling coming-of-age-on-Wall-Street story. He learned what to wear on the trading floor (Brooks Brothers khaki dress pants and dress shirts in different shades of blue) and to how to hang onto clients, even if it meant intentionally losing at ping pong. It was pounded into him that he had to admit and rectify any trading mistake quickly (as he proudly announces, he made only one, which cost Goldman all of $80), and I guess it was a matter of personal judgment just how smashed he could get with clients.
The eager-to-please junior trader is a much more sympathetic character than the vice president who balked when offered the London job. He? London? I don’t know what he expected. Getting sent abroad is often part and parcel of moving up at Goldman. I used to socialize on weekends with a Goldman partner who had earlier logged several years in Hong Kong and London. It was part of the drill.
I’m glad I read this book—if for nothing else than the descriptions of trading floor action. But Goldman lawyers won’t have to stay up late worrying about the potential fallout from Why I Left Goldman Sachs. And I suspect that much more public relations damage was done with the op-ed piece than will be done with this book.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Baker and Nofsinger, Socially Responsible Finance and Investing
The most recent addition to the Robert W. Kolb Series in Finance—Socially Responsible Finance and Investing: Financial Institutions, Corporations, Investors, and Activists, edited by H. Kent Baker and John R. Nofsinger (Wiley, 2012)—follows the series’ familiar format, drawing on the expertise of academics and practitioners from around the world to survey and synthesize vast quantities of research. Its twenty-four chapters, spanning about 500 pages, cover such general topics as finance and society, corporate engagement, and socially responsible investing.
Let’s start with the least socially responsible question: how do socially responsible investing mutual funds stack up against conventional mutual funds? Well, what answer would you like to have? “Several studies report little evidence of a difference in risk-adjusted returns between ethical and conventional funds. However, other studies find that SRI funds can be a valuable source of portfolio risk reduction, even for investors who are not driven by social values. On the other hand, some researchers report a statistically significant cost associated with socially responsible mutual fund investing.” (p. 439) Select your methodology and time period and get your favorite answer.
One of the chapters that particularly appealed to me was “International and Cultural Views” by Astrid Juliane Salzmann (RWTH Aachen University). A couple of takeaways from this study. First, she looks at the law and finance theory, which is based on the differences between British common law and French civil law. “The British common law developed to protect owners of private property against the crown, whereas the French civil law evolved to strengthen state power against a corrupt judiciary. The resultant emphasis of private property rights by the common law tradition supports financial development, and countries that have adopted the common law system generally exhibit better developed financial markets than countries with a civil law tradition.” (pp. 89-90) Common law countries also seem to foster developments in socially responsible finance and investing.
The economic consequences of religion are far from settled. Scholars can’t even document a strong link between religiousness and ethical behavior. For instance, according to studies, atheists are the least likely to engage in insider trading, agnostics the most likely (a rather bizarre finding that almost seems as if it came from a sample of nine traders), and religious commitment appears to be negatively associated with environmentalism. Protestant and Buddhist countries report above-average ethical behavior; Hindu, Orthodox, and Muslim countries exhibit less interest in ethical issues.
Socially Responsible Finance and Investing covers a wide range of topics, from (one of my favorite subheads) “A Palsy in the Invisible Hand: Distorted Consumer Finance Markets” and the use and misuse of financial secrecy in global banking to corporate philanthropy and institutional investor activism, from managerial compensation and social entrepreneurship to green real estate and trust issues in business. It’s not one of those books you read curled up in front of the fire, but it’s a very useful resource for anyone interested in the growing field of socially responsible finance and investing.
Let’s start with the least socially responsible question: how do socially responsible investing mutual funds stack up against conventional mutual funds? Well, what answer would you like to have? “Several studies report little evidence of a difference in risk-adjusted returns between ethical and conventional funds. However, other studies find that SRI funds can be a valuable source of portfolio risk reduction, even for investors who are not driven by social values. On the other hand, some researchers report a statistically significant cost associated with socially responsible mutual fund investing.” (p. 439) Select your methodology and time period and get your favorite answer.
One of the chapters that particularly appealed to me was “International and Cultural Views” by Astrid Juliane Salzmann (RWTH Aachen University). A couple of takeaways from this study. First, she looks at the law and finance theory, which is based on the differences between British common law and French civil law. “The British common law developed to protect owners of private property against the crown, whereas the French civil law evolved to strengthen state power against a corrupt judiciary. The resultant emphasis of private property rights by the common law tradition supports financial development, and countries that have adopted the common law system generally exhibit better developed financial markets than countries with a civil law tradition.” (pp. 89-90) Common law countries also seem to foster developments in socially responsible finance and investing.
The economic consequences of religion are far from settled. Scholars can’t even document a strong link between religiousness and ethical behavior. For instance, according to studies, atheists are the least likely to engage in insider trading, agnostics the most likely (a rather bizarre finding that almost seems as if it came from a sample of nine traders), and religious commitment appears to be negatively associated with environmentalism. Protestant and Buddhist countries report above-average ethical behavior; Hindu, Orthodox, and Muslim countries exhibit less interest in ethical issues.
Socially Responsible Finance and Investing covers a wide range of topics, from (one of my favorite subheads) “A Palsy in the Invisible Hand: Distorted Consumer Finance Markets” and the use and misuse of financial secrecy in global banking to corporate philanthropy and institutional investor activism, from managerial compensation and social entrepreneurship to green real estate and trust issues in business. It’s not one of those books you read curled up in front of the fire, but it’s a very useful resource for anyone interested in the growing field of socially responsible finance and investing.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Schultze, The Art of Vulture Investing
I think there’s a bit of the vulture in most of us—at least in those who want to buy low and sell high rather than buy high and sell higher. But few of us have either the skills or the chops to rummage through failing or bankrupt companies looking for opportunities. George Schultze is a notable exception. In The Art of Vulture Investing: Adventures in Distressed Securities Management (Wiley, 2012) he shares his investing experiences over the past eighteen years. Written with the able assistance of Janet Lewis, this book describes what transpires in an often overlooked but nonetheless critical part of the financial world.
In an early chapter entitled “Learning to Scavenge” Schultze lays out some of skills necessary to becoming a successful vulture. The most important skill is to know how to use leverage, not leverage in the usual financial sense but the leverage of Archimedes: “Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.” The vulture investor must learn to target “what we call the fulcrum security of any failing company in which you are considering an investment. Technically, the fulcrum security is the one most likely to receive equity in the reorganized company after it goes through a Chapter 11 bankruptcy or another type of reorganization.” (pp. 17-18) This fulcrum security is normally a company’s senior secured bonds.
Vultures don’t always wait for an animal to die to swoop in; sometimes they kill the wounded or sick. Similarly, vulture investors can also be short sellers of stock or deeply subordinated bonds of companies that are on the skids (preferably not so obviously sick that their condition is common knowledge) but that have not yet filed for bankruptcy.
Vulture investing is naturally a lot more complicated than shorting dying companies on the way down and buying a fulcrum security either roughly at the bottom or on the way up, even though both of these activities are difficult enough in and of themselves. Schultze takes the reader through a series of case studies that graphically illustrate some of the complexities. Navigating the often byzantine capital structures of ailing companies, for instance, can be a challenge. Trying to put a price tag on tort liabilities, especially long-tailed legal liabilities, is always tough. And maintaining an active involvement while a company is being restructured or after it is reorganized requires a lot of time and attention.
By and large, vulture investing is not a DIY project for the retail investor. But that’s no reason for the retail investor not to read this book. It’s a fascinating account—in fact, so intriguing that I decided that in my next incarnation I wouldn’t mind being a vulture (investor, not bird, thank you very much).
In an early chapter entitled “Learning to Scavenge” Schultze lays out some of skills necessary to becoming a successful vulture. The most important skill is to know how to use leverage, not leverage in the usual financial sense but the leverage of Archimedes: “Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.” The vulture investor must learn to target “what we call the fulcrum security of any failing company in which you are considering an investment. Technically, the fulcrum security is the one most likely to receive equity in the reorganized company after it goes through a Chapter 11 bankruptcy or another type of reorganization.” (pp. 17-18) This fulcrum security is normally a company’s senior secured bonds.
Vultures don’t always wait for an animal to die to swoop in; sometimes they kill the wounded or sick. Similarly, vulture investors can also be short sellers of stock or deeply subordinated bonds of companies that are on the skids (preferably not so obviously sick that their condition is common knowledge) but that have not yet filed for bankruptcy.
Vulture investing is naturally a lot more complicated than shorting dying companies on the way down and buying a fulcrum security either roughly at the bottom or on the way up, even though both of these activities are difficult enough in and of themselves. Schultze takes the reader through a series of case studies that graphically illustrate some of the complexities. Navigating the often byzantine capital structures of ailing companies, for instance, can be a challenge. Trying to put a price tag on tort liabilities, especially long-tailed legal liabilities, is always tough. And maintaining an active involvement while a company is being restructured or after it is reorganized requires a lot of time and attention.
By and large, vulture investing is not a DIY project for the retail investor. But that’s no reason for the retail investor not to read this book. It’s a fascinating account—in fact, so intriguing that I decided that in my next incarnation I wouldn’t mind being a vulture (investor, not bird, thank you very much).
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Passarelli, Trading Option Greeks, 2d ed.
If you want to trade options, you have to know the greeks. You may not use them as primary inputs in your everyday trading, but if you don’t have a handle on them there will come a time that you’ll suffer mightily. In this second edition of Trading Option Greeks: How Time, Volatility, and Other Pricing Factors Drive Profits (Bloomberg/Wiley, 2012) Dan Passarelli offers what one might describe, co-opting (and abusing) option language, as a preemptive strike.
He first explains the basics of the greeks and how they interact, then moves on to spreads (vertical, wing, and calendar and diagonal), volatility (especially in the context of delta-neutral trading), and advanced option trading (straddles and strangles, ratio spreads and complex spreads).
For retail traders, at least for those without large portfolios, the first two parts of the book (the basics and spreads) will probably be the most valuable, although the third and fourth parts are must reads for everyone.
Passarelli does an excellent job of explaining the greeks, complete with tables and graphs. Take gamma, for instance. What does a 7-day call gamma graph look like as opposed to a 92-day call gamma? “As expiration draws nearer, the gamma decreases for ITMs and OTMs and increases for the ATM strikes.” And what happens if we raise the volatility assumption? It “flattens the curve, causing ITM and OTM to have higher gamma while lowering the gamma for ATMs.” In brief, “Short-term ATM options with low volatility have the highest gamma. Lower gamma is found in ATMs when volatility is higher and it is lower for ITMs and OTMs and in longer-dated options.” (p. 37)
Or how do the greeks come into play with the single-legged trades—buying or selling calls or puts? Here Passarelli illustrates the impact of the greeks with multiple trade examples. Some of his fictional traders are faced with specific problems such as how far the stock price can advance before the calls are at 1.10. Or what is the likelihood of an option’s gaining value from delta against the risk of theta erosion if one holds the trade for 35 days?
After two chapters on put-call parity and synthetics and dividends and option pricing, Passarelli turns to spreads. He describes credit and debit spread similarities, explains why strike selection is essential for a successful condor, and maintains that calendar-family spreads, which are “veritable volatility spreads, … allow traders to take their trading to a higher level of sophistication.” (p. 233)
The rank novice will probably find this book overwhelming. But anyone with even a couple of months of exposure to options will find it enlightening. Every option trader who doesn’t have the greeks down cold would do themselves a favor by reading Passarelli’s book.
He first explains the basics of the greeks and how they interact, then moves on to spreads (vertical, wing, and calendar and diagonal), volatility (especially in the context of delta-neutral trading), and advanced option trading (straddles and strangles, ratio spreads and complex spreads).
For retail traders, at least for those without large portfolios, the first two parts of the book (the basics and spreads) will probably be the most valuable, although the third and fourth parts are must reads for everyone.
Passarelli does an excellent job of explaining the greeks, complete with tables and graphs. Take gamma, for instance. What does a 7-day call gamma graph look like as opposed to a 92-day call gamma? “As expiration draws nearer, the gamma decreases for ITMs and OTMs and increases for the ATM strikes.” And what happens if we raise the volatility assumption? It “flattens the curve, causing ITM and OTM to have higher gamma while lowering the gamma for ATMs.” In brief, “Short-term ATM options with low volatility have the highest gamma. Lower gamma is found in ATMs when volatility is higher and it is lower for ITMs and OTMs and in longer-dated options.” (p. 37)
Or how do the greeks come into play with the single-legged trades—buying or selling calls or puts? Here Passarelli illustrates the impact of the greeks with multiple trade examples. Some of his fictional traders are faced with specific problems such as how far the stock price can advance before the calls are at 1.10. Or what is the likelihood of an option’s gaining value from delta against the risk of theta erosion if one holds the trade for 35 days?
After two chapters on put-call parity and synthetics and dividends and option pricing, Passarelli turns to spreads. He describes credit and debit spread similarities, explains why strike selection is essential for a successful condor, and maintains that calendar-family spreads, which are “veritable volatility spreads, … allow traders to take their trading to a higher level of sophistication.” (p. 233)
The rank novice will probably find this book overwhelming. But anyone with even a couple of months of exposure to options will find it enlightening. Every option trader who doesn’t have the greeks down cold would do themselves a favor by reading Passarelli’s book.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Commodity Trader’s Almanac 2013
Commodities are clearly seasonal. Almost like clockwork there are corn harvests, winter heating demands, and holiday gold buying. Not every year is the same, of course. A drought can ravage the corn crop as it did this year, winters can be unseasonably warm or cold, and the general state of the economy can affect how much gold jewelry ends up under the Christmas tree.
Now in its seventh edition, the Commodity Trader’s Almanac (Wiley, 2012), compiled by Jeffrey A. Hirsch and John L. Person, is designed “for active traders of futures, forex, stocks, options, and ETFs.” It follows the general format of its older sister, the Stock Trader’s Almanac, with the first section devoted to the almanac proper and the second to trade strategies and detailed data on the twenty markets covered. These markets are the S&P 500, 30-year Treasury bonds, crude oil, natural gas, heating oil (a newcomer this year), copper, gold, silver, corn, soybeans, CBOT wheat, cocoa, coffee, sugar, live cattle, lean hogs, British pound, euro, Swiss franc, and Japanese yen.
On a two-page table the authors describe the seasonal trades that are the backbone of the almanac. They are the top percentage plays over the life of the traded commodity. For instance, short heating oil on the second trading day of January and hold for 30 trading days. This trade has a success rate of 69.7%, with 23 gains and 10 losses, and a total gain of $34,184, with a best gain of $17,686 and a worst loss of $11,155.
For traders who don’t have the stomach (or the wallet) for trading commodity futures, either individually or as spreads, the almanac introduces them to weekly and binary options. Another, more familiar alternative is to trade ETFs or ETNs, or even related stocks. The trader who couldn’t absorb a loss of over $11,000 on a heating oil futures contract could opt for RJN, the ELEMENTS Rogers International Commodity Energy ETN. “Despite the fact that RJN is composed of a basket of six different energy futures (47.7% crude oil, 31.8% Brent crude oil, 6.8% natural gas, 6.8% RBOB gasoline, 4.1% heating oil, and 2.7% gas oil), it is extremely closely correlated to the price trend of heating oil.” (p. 92)
If you’re looking for a desk calendar with a lot more meat to it than, say, The New Yorker’s cartoon-laden desk diary, the Commodity Trader’s Almanac would be an ideal choice. It is chock full of data and might even make you some money.
Now in its seventh edition, the Commodity Trader’s Almanac (Wiley, 2012), compiled by Jeffrey A. Hirsch and John L. Person, is designed “for active traders of futures, forex, stocks, options, and ETFs.” It follows the general format of its older sister, the Stock Trader’s Almanac, with the first section devoted to the almanac proper and the second to trade strategies and detailed data on the twenty markets covered. These markets are the S&P 500, 30-year Treasury bonds, crude oil, natural gas, heating oil (a newcomer this year), copper, gold, silver, corn, soybeans, CBOT wheat, cocoa, coffee, sugar, live cattle, lean hogs, British pound, euro, Swiss franc, and Japanese yen.
On a two-page table the authors describe the seasonal trades that are the backbone of the almanac. They are the top percentage plays over the life of the traded commodity. For instance, short heating oil on the second trading day of January and hold for 30 trading days. This trade has a success rate of 69.7%, with 23 gains and 10 losses, and a total gain of $34,184, with a best gain of $17,686 and a worst loss of $11,155.
For traders who don’t have the stomach (or the wallet) for trading commodity futures, either individually or as spreads, the almanac introduces them to weekly and binary options. Another, more familiar alternative is to trade ETFs or ETNs, or even related stocks. The trader who couldn’t absorb a loss of over $11,000 on a heating oil futures contract could opt for RJN, the ELEMENTS Rogers International Commodity Energy ETN. “Despite the fact that RJN is composed of a basket of six different energy futures (47.7% crude oil, 31.8% Brent crude oil, 6.8% natural gas, 6.8% RBOB gasoline, 4.1% heating oil, and 2.7% gas oil), it is extremely closely correlated to the price trend of heating oil.” (p. 92)
If you’re looking for a desk calendar with a lot more meat to it than, say, The New Yorker’s cartoon-laden desk diary, the Commodity Trader’s Almanac would be an ideal choice. It is chock full of data and might even make you some money.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
