I think it a PBS show. that channel 13 in NY also I think a guy by the name of Lue Dobbs hosts the show the spelling of his name is probably wrong you should get the idea. Its one of the best shows even though its the good old boys club but its to the point and based on facts not options.
I thought fund owner and hugh business owner earn the most money. Trader can make a good living but can't beat business and fund ower.
Uptik, Perhaps he's just a workaholic by nature; I think 100 is rather atypical. On the other hand, IBs have no choice but to put in those kind of hours since they're working against deadlines; they've got to get the deals done.
I am currently selling some real estate near "ground zero" in NYC. The place is assessed at $3M+. The only people who have come to look at it are hedge fund managers. And they all seem willing to make cash offers. I don't know what that means except that these guys are rolling in cash.
Brokers + Exchanges. I worked for a specialist firm and they generate not much. The traders in sum generate of course 0, single traders may benefit from others but I think potential here is limited.
During yesterday's Senate budget committee meeting, Treasury Secretary Paul O'Neill and West Virginia Senator Robert Byrd fought over who grew up poorer: O'Neill: I started my life in a house without water or electricity so I don't cede the high moral ground to you of knowing what life was like in a ditch. Byrd: I started out in life without any rungs in the bottom of the ladder... I've had that experience and I can stand toe-to-toe with you. Reminds me of the skit from "Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl". Four well-dressed Yorkshiremen (played by Michael Palin (MP), Graham Chapman (GC), Terry Gilliam (TG) and Eric Idle (EC)) are sitting together at a holiday resort. "Farewell to Thee" is being played in the background on Hawaiian guitar ... MP: Ahh.. Very passable, this, very passable. GC: Nothing like a good glass of Chateau de Chassilier wine, ay Gessiah? TG: You're right there Obadiah. EI: Who'd a thought thirty years ago we'd all be sittin' here drinking Chateau de Chassilier wine? MP: Aye. In them days, we'd a' been glad to have the price of a cup o' tea. GC: A cup o' cold tea. EI: Without milk or sugar. TG: or tea! MP: In a filthy, cracked cup. EI: We never used to have a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper. GC: The best we could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth. TG: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor. MP: Aye. Because we were poor. My old dad used to say to me, "Money doesn't buy you happiness." EI: 'E was right. I was happier then and I had nothin'. We used to live in this tiny old house, with great big holes in the roof. GC: House? You were lucky to have a house! We used to live in one room, all hundred and twenty-six of us, no furniture. Half the floor was missing; we were all huddled together in one corner for fear of falling! TG: You were lucky to have a room! We used to have to live in a corridor! MP: Ohhhh we used to dream of livin' in a corridor! Woulda' been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woken up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House!? Hmph. EI: Well when I say "house" it was only a hole in the ground covered by a piece of tarpaulin, but it was a house to us. GC: We were evicted from our hole in the ground; we had to go and live in a lake! TG: You were lucky to have a lake! There were a hundred and sixty of us living in a small shoebox in the middle of the road. MP: Cardboard box? TG: Aye. MP: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a brown paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six o'clock in the morning, clean the bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down the mill for fourteen hours a day week in-week out. When we got home, our dad would thrash us to sleep with his belt! GC: Luxury. We used to have to get out of the lake at three o'clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of hot gravel, go to work at the mill every day for tuppence a month, come home, and dad would beat us around the head and neck with a broken bottle, if we were lucky. TG: Well we had it tough. We used to have to get up out of the shoebox at twelve o'clock at night, and lick the road clean with our tongues. We had half a handful of freezing cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at the mill for fourpence every six years, and when we got home, our dad would slice us in two with a bread knife. EI: Right. I had to get up in the morning at ten o'clock at night, half an hour before I went to bed, eat a lump of cold poison, work twenty-nine hours a day down at the mill, and pay the mill owner for permission to come to work, and when we got home, our dad would kill us, and dance about on our graves singing "Hallelujah." MP: But you try and tell the young people today that ... and they won't believe ya'. ALL: Nope, nope ...