this is important
Earlier this week, a man named Greg Smith resigned from Goldman Sachs. Smith informed his bosses of his decision to quit around 6:40 AM local (London) time and, a few hours later, circled in the rest of the world with an Op-Ed in the New York Times, which he penned not out of a desire to violate his (former) employer in the most gruesome fashion possible in front of clients and other interested parties but because he believed it to be the right, nay the only thing to do. In the piece, Greg explain that his decision to leave the firm after 12 years of service did not come easily but that he had to do it, realizing one day during rehearsals for the recruiting video he starred in that the lines he was delivering re: Goldman being a great place to work were a lie. A bald-faced one, in fact. Goldman had changed in the years since the Greg-ster arrived, and whereas it once felt like home and the people in it family, he’d come to regard it as a den of evil, run by monsters. Monsters who called clients “muppets”; who only cared about making money; who valued “shortcuts” over “achievement.” Of the latter, Greg spoke from plenty of experience. Though his personal achievements are too numerous to mention in full, they include being named a Rhodes scholar (finalist), learning to tie his shoes at the age of 22, winning third place for ping pong at the Maccabiah Games, and being named captain of the South American national table tennis team. OR WAS HE?
Has there ever been a person in your life you didn’t realize how much meant to you ’til they were gone? Who you would have treated better if you’d known your final day with was your last? Who you would have begged to stay? Who you assumed would be back eventually but as the weeks, months, and years crept on forced you to come to the hard realization that the next and only time you’d see them would be in your dreams, because they were never coming back? Whose permanent absence, once finally accepted it, hit you like a ton of bricks? Then you know how people involved with Bill Gross’s Mustache feel today. Once a
daily presence on the PIMCO manager’s face, the BGM went away for a while but it was assumed not for good because how could that be? Why would that be? It felt impossible. Then this happened:
Bloomberg’s Tom Keene: When does the mustache come back?
Gross: Never. My wife has finally adjusted, so it’s not coming back.
If you never got to say a proper good-bye, if you would have done things differently, if you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you, if you can’t bear the thought of being alone tonight, join us as we light a candle in memoriam.
How does one know when they’ve made it in Connecticut? Is it when their net worth is north of $5 billion? Is it when news of their impending arrival downtown causes workers to roll out the fleece carpet? Is it when the Radio City Christmas Spectacular becomes known as the poor man’s version of the […]
If someone were to tell you that on a comparative basis, you were getting lapped by government employees when it came to compensation and perks, you’d probably find that 1) downright offensive and 2) extremely hard to believe. Maybe you work at allegedly prestigious hedge fund or investment bank. Maybe they tell you that the […]