These days, Sonia Jones, at 44, is a walking advertisement for the physical benefits of Ashtanga. She’s slim, but in a toned way rather than an annoyingly skinny one. Blonde and tan, she is warm and ebullient, more earthy Australian than uptight Greenwich grande dame. Every morning, she does her practice in a sunny studio—decorated with pictures of Jois and his family—in her Greenwich house, overlooking Long Island Sound. She’s so committed to Ashtanga that, if you’re in her life, you have to do it, too…All of Sonia’s children practice—from Chrissy, who is a student at Stanford, to Caroline, who is a singer-songwriter attending New York University, to Dorothy, who’s in high school, to Jack. (Sonia admits that she has to bargain with 15-year-old Jack by telling him that if he does his practice he doesn’t have to read.) Paul does Ashtanga, too, although he gets to take the summers off. [Vanity Fair/Bethany McLean]
Last week in Connecticut, a theory was put forth: that the three asset managers who’d come forward with the winning Powerball ticket were doing so as a favor for a client who was too embarrassed to do so himself. To the naked eye, this seemed to check out. First off, it took Brandon Lacoff, Tim Davidson, and Gregg Skidmore nearly a month to claim their $252 million prize, and they only did so after lottery officials essentially waged a manhunt to find them. Second, they didn’t seem excited at all about their post-tax lump sum of $103 million. No smiles, no jazz hands, no chest bumps for the camera. Third, the guys all work for a firm called Belpointe Capital, an asset manager that, while it affords them the luxury of living in Fairfield County, is not at the point where it’s making everyone rich beyond the dreams of avarice or where the principals are in a position to be telling clients what’s what or failing to acquiesce to their demands, unconventional as they may be. Finally, a “person familiar with the matter” swore it was true. So most people chose to accept the theory and move on with their lives. The crack investigative team at the Stamford Advocate, however, decided this wasn’t over. Instead, they demanded to see a copy of the ticket, in addition to “passport and driver’s licenses of the winning trio and a photocopy of a check made out for $103,586,824 to a trust set up by Davidson, Lacoff, and Skidmore,” all of which they were able to obtain it under the Freedom Of Information Act, which was conceived with exactly this sort of matter of public importance in mind.
Upon viewing Davidson’s signatureprinted name on the above scan, despite being unclear what it proves exactly other than that he signed the ticket after the fact, one might be satisfied that three men did in fact pool 33, 33, and 34 cents each to buy that winning ticket. Like the Advocate, however, someone else is not yet finished here. Read more »
Why does Southern Connecticut get everything? Why does it get to lay claim to all that is great in this world? A short-list includes Steve Cohen’s Cummings Point Pleasure Dome, a guy who’ll park his car on your roof, a group of asset managers who will be more than happy to do whatever you ask, be it bury a hooker you killed or claim your lotto winnings, Cliff Asness’s doll collection, The Largest Trading Floor In The WorldTM, the No. 1 Candy Theft Prevention Team in the U.S., the Great Toilet War of ’08, Paul Tudor Jones’ Christmas Spectacular, Heights and Lights (“a 20-year Stamford tradition that features an acrobatic Santa Claus rappelling down the side of of a building on his way to a local tree lighting”) and now this? Read more »
Yesterday afternoon, three Greenwich men came forward with a winning Powerball ticket worth $254 million. Lottery officials had been searching for nearly a month to find them, posting billboards all over Connecticut “urging” the ticket holder to reveal him or herself and claim the prize. But when Gregg Skidmore, Tim Davidson, and Brandon Lacoff finally did, it was not how people pictured it. Frank Farricker, for one, was very disappointed. He’d expected the men to be more excited, more celebratory, more over the top pumped about their windfall. Frank didn’t get that, though. Instead he got three guys who seemed at best embarrassed and at worst pained to be collecting, after taxes, a lump sum of $103.5 million. At the time, some speculated that the reason the trio, Skidmore in particular, looked like they were about to have a group colonoscopy rather than take home a bag of cash, was that they were worried how it would appear, given that they are not just Gold Coast residents but money managers in Belpoint Capital, and you know how the general public feels about those types. Today, however, another theory has emerged. Read more »
Connecticut residents Gregg, Brandon, and Tim were initially bashful about coming forward. Read more »
Two Greenwich sisters were issued summons for third-degree disorderly conduct after police were called to a town residence on a report of a domestic dispute. The sisters, ages 14 and 16, were involved in an argument over computer usage. Police said one of the girls interrupted the other’s computer usage, causing her to shove her out of the room. The girl shoved out of the room then cut off power to the computer room, causing a physical fight. The sisters were referred to juvenile court and will appear there on October 4. [Police Blotter]
You’re a hedge fund manager working and living in CT, catching a 7:30 showing of Harry Potter this evening in Stamford. The tickets have been purchased, the seats selected, and the previews about to begin. You tell your wife you need to take a leak and will be back in 5. You clumsily make your way through the aisle, forcing people to turn their legs so you can fit through and get outside. But once there you don’t head toward the bathroom. Because that’s not what you actually excused yourself to do. Oh, you came outside to pull down your pants and relieve yourself alright, but in a totally different way: by shoving a box of Jujubees in them. Read more »