Not just because he’s not Jewish, but also because, according to Dealbook, he’s already got a bitter taste in his mouth. (Which, somewhat surprisingly, has nothing to do with his 5 year ban from the securities industry or Charlie Eregn.) Read more »
Phil Falcone Would Appreciate It If Someone Would Write Out An Explicit Set Of Rules Re: What One Can And Cannot Do With Company FundsBy Bess Levin
As those of you who keep close tabs on the trials and travails of La Familia Falcone know, one of the biggest mistakes Phil made in the last several years was the time he borrowed $113 million from a gated investor fund to cover personal taxes, for which he had failed to set aside enough cash. Falcone learned the hard way that clients don’t take kindly to these sorts of things– even if you pay them back, with interest– and that the Securities and Exchange Commission doesn’t either. Point taken, all that jazz. In retrospect, it might even make sense to Phil re: why people got upset. Having said that, there is no way he, or anyone for that matter, could have predicted anyone would get their panties in a twist over this: Read more »
The wireless broadband provider That could
Philip Falcone’s LightSquared Inc. will probably be able to borrow $1 billion to finance its exit from bankruptcy as a standalone company, Credit Suisse Securities LLC said in a letter made public Friday. The Credit Suisse Group AG (CSGN) unit said it was confident it could arrange the proposed bankruptcy-exit loan as long as LightSquared, a wireless broadband provider, met conditions including obtaining the “cooperation of all parties-at-interest” in the reorganization and “all required regulatory approvals.” Philip Falcone’s LightSquared Inc. will probably be able to borrow $1 billion to finance its exit from bankruptcy as a standalone company, Credit Suisse Securities LLC said. [Bloomberg]
Two years ago, like a modern day Noah, Nicholas Jacinto arrived at the townhouse of billionaire Phillip Falcone with a menagerie of exotic animals. He carted a sloth, a king snake, a lemur, a marmocet, a hedgehog and a Brazilian aardvark into the hedge fund king’s $50 million Upper East Side home to set up for a birthday party. Jacinto had been hired to provide the entertainment, displaying the rare critters to gawking guests. But before the show could start, city Health Department inspectors swooped in. They ticketed Jacinto, a state and federally licensed wildlife expert, for not having a city permit for the animals, and sent him packing back to his Long Island farm with his tail between his legs. “It was a huge embarrassment what the department did to me,” he recalled. –DNAinfo New York, January 21, 2014
Wilbur adjusted the towel around her head. She took a long drag off her Lucky Strike and stared out onto East 67th Street. Phil hated when she smoked in the house, so she’d cracked the bathroom window and had the fan going. But honestly, she didn’t much care what Phil thought right now.
Had she wanted to perform at the children’s birthday? No. Of course not. She wasn’t their monkey and she didn’t do children’s birthdays. But the fact that he’d made the call immediately after their fight felt especially cruel. Things weren’t great with them but she never thought he’d go out of his way to hurt her.
She flicked the rest of her cigarette out the window and stared at her pores in the mirror. Phil used to tease her for spending hours scrutinizing her skin. Lately, though, he hadn’t said anything. Maybe he was no longer paying attention. Maybe he’d noticed the fine lines where things were once smooth, and hoped she would, too. She knew it was ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but feeling like he was trading her in for a new model.
There was a knock at the door. “Wilbur, can I come in?” Phil asked from the other side.
After all of their fights, the big ones and the small ones, no matter what had been said, no matter how many objects were thrown (Wilbur) or how many tears were shed (Phil), they’d always found their way back to each other eventually. Wilbur was still hurting, but she was ready to hear what Phil had to say, ready to move on. In a couple hours the guests would be arriving, and a little while after that they’d sing Happy Birthday and eat cake, and Wilbur would do her standard, “Are you one, are you two, are you three…” In spite of herself, she was actually looking a little bit forward to the animal display.
She opened the door, ready to reconcile. But Phil didn’t come in. He stood at the threshold, without a hint on contrition on his face or in his bearing. There was no sign that he’d been crying at all. Read more »