the laid.back Buddhist has MOVED...back!

Friday, July 27

That Dylan Ratigan...

Takes no bullshit.

My favorite question was when he asked, “By that [risk is being repriced] do you mean the market is riskier?”

Henry 'Hank' Paulson wasn’t a former Goldman Sachs CEO for nothing, and gave a good (and valid) response.

But jeez, this is why I love watching Dylan Ratigan in action.

I don’t watch much television. And during the school year, barely at all. Hell, I don’t even own a TV! When I do watch (which is always more during the summer), it mainly consists of Oprah re-runs and CNBC, the favorites being Closing Bell (Maria Bartiromo), Fast Money, and sometimes Morning Call. With the occasional Food Network, Travel Channel, HGTV, and Good Morning America.

Wow. Just realized I sound like my mother. Who, by the way, is sharp as a whip.

More so, it seems these days. After watching this morning's Whitehouse Summit on CNBC with her, I sighed with satisfaction, “Dylan Ratigan is one of my favorites.”

She surprised me by replying, “I don’t really like him, his face looks too hard.”

So some meaning gets lost in translation. But my guard was up… you see, I remember who else she claimed looked too ‘rough.’

“He must have some German background in him, somewhere.”

Aha, there we go. Guard is now FULLY up and buzzing.

My reaction was a careful, “Oh, really? Huh.”

Not the brightest response per se, but I maintained just enough nonchalance to get the subject dropped. If I got defensive, she’d seize the opportunity to poke me about him, you know who...my Formerly 365. Like the time I got all riled up when she called him less manly for not working while he was studying abroad. His driving ambitions is one of the things that always appealed to me. And, I heatedly pointed out to mom, I don’t work either except for having been a RA and doing volunteer work.

“But he’s male.”

Right, gotta love how modern yet in some ways still very traditional my mom is.

She, whose sixth sense is never far from the mark, has been trying several months now to confirm her suspicions that he is not simply a good friend of mine ("What do you mean he's coming by the house?" and "Why does he need to see you before he leaves for Europe, if it's just friends?").

It is utterly pointless for me to lie to my mom, I just can’t do it. That doesn’t mean, though, that over the years I haven’t learned how to deal with it. I have, and picked up quite a few other things as well.

I can honestly--and thus convincingly say--that we never dated and that he’ll never be my boyfriend. I know when I couldn’t stop laughing because she had said, “...going to an international school, he must’ve played a lot of girls,” allayed some of her worst fears (or maybe worried her more?). Anyhow, that we are just friends (now) is undeniable. It's my gold card that I hide behind, the golden line I use to keep my mom from digging up the past.

But who do you think I learned to pay attention to the small things from?

She noticed, and promptly verbalized, that I seemed to be happier after receiving his postcard. Carefully watching me when she asked if I kept in touch while he was in Europe, and oh, did he send an email? Really? What did he say? Ahh, hm.

Because she understands who I am (sometimes better than myself), she knows and sees all those characteristics I find attractive in him. She’s comfortable with us being friends, but is constantly on the look-out that I haven’t fallen for him.

Because her mother's instinct knows it’d spell disaster for me, the daughter who is like her younger self in many, many ways.

Oh, the irony.

1 Musing(s):

Anonymous said...

^^ nice blog!! ^@^

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