It is routine for many of us at the firm to gather after our Monday morning meeting to discuss the weekend's English football results.
"Even a kid at elementary (primary) school would have the sense to avoid the bond market at present," exclaimed author and fund manager Robert Hagstrom in the opening address at an investment conference I attended in Omaha, Nebraska, on the two days preceding the Berkshire Hathaway annual shareholders' meeting on May 5.
Clearing my late mother's personal effects, I came across a box of letters I had written to various members of my family that she had preserved for all these years.
Today I'm on my way to the United States to attend a two-day investor conference at the University of Nebraska, Omaha, and thereafter to join 40000 other Berkshire Hathaway shareholders at the company's annual meeting at the Century Link Centre on May 5.
When news broke recently that Turkish cellphone operator Turkcell was suing MTN for alleged corrupt and improper business practices after the latter was awarded a licence in Iran, I hardly batted an eyelid.
I sat down to write my column with a number of ideas swirling in my head. I had an eventful week and needed time to reflect on my experiences.
It's nearly five years since evidence surfaced that the US housing market was heading for a disastrous downturn, an event that proved to be the prelude to a devastating decline in the investment banking industry, and the onset of the credit crisis and recession in the global economy.
South African-born and educated, Greg Smith, 33, has attained his 15 minutes of fame. After 12 years as a derivatives specialist at one of the world's most prominent investment houses, Goldman Sachs, Smith quit as head of the firm's US equity derivatives business in Europe, the Middle East and Africa and, instead of a long-practis ed custom of keeping "shtum", he published his resignation letter as an opinion piece in The New York Times on March 14.
One of my most admired Australian institutions is Sydney-based car rental company Bayswater.
I urge anyone with an interest in investing to read Warren Buffett's letter to Berkshire Hathaway's shareholders, published on February 25, and freely available on the company's website.
Late on Friday, I received a mail from a South African Revenue Services' spokesman writing on behalf of Commissioner Oupa Magashula expressing concern with comments I made at the PKF post-budget breakfast last Thursday morning.
"What's taxation?" my granddaughter Gabriela inquired, overhearing me discussing tomorrow's budget with family around the dinner table. My immediate response was to tell her it's a necessary but involuntary burden on society that over thousands of years has toppled governments, fuelled revolutions and imprisoned evaders, although I am not sure a five-year-old would have appreciated my cynicism.
I missed President Jacob Zuma's address to the nation on Thursday. I was celebrating my younger son, Graham's, wedding.
I am not on Facebook but that doesn't mean I'm a Luddite. Quite the opposite; I enjoy embracing new technology.
I find business travel exceptionally tiring.
Excuse me if I celebrate, but last week the JSE's All Share index reached a record high, surpassing the previous peak recorded in the latter half of May 2008.
On Friday I attended the funeral of Issie Schlapobersky.
I love December. The days are long, the weather warm and the roads are free of parents frantically rushing to get their children to school before the assembly bell.
IT'S enough already! The thought of trying to squeeze out a decent return from volatile markets for yet another year is unimaginable, and we are still only in December.
My spiritual son, Graham, always jokes with his friends that the reason he can't devote more time to studying the Torah is because his dad doesn't work hard enough.
"Thank goodness my parents aren't alive; this would have killed them," my wife, Linda, almost comically exploded soon after parliament passed the so-called secrecy bill last Tuesday.
Like most other men my age, I was obliged to complete military service.
President confronted the guerrilas, dismantled the paramilitaries and fought corruption
I'm a sucker for punishment. I've accepted an invitation to travel to Los Angeles later this week to join a panel discussion on investing in Africa that is part of a two-day conference organised by the Canadian mining finance house Forbes Manhattan.
PICK n Pay has always been one of my favourite investments.
LYING in the bath, early on Friday evening, shortly before going out for dinner, I was reflecting on a rather peculiar week I had endured, concluding that I must have been the target of some hysterical conspiracy plot.
One of the pleasures of taking a break from the routine of a working day is being able to wake up leisurely, watch the news and browse the internet for the latest business stories, without the pressure of having to beat the traffic to make a morning meeting.
WHILE travelling with my wife, daughter and two grandchildren in a cab, heading from the west of Manhattan to a shoe store in the east to buy my grandson waterproof boots for the winter, I enjoyed a special New York moment.
MY LATE father frequently repeated yarns about the antics on the trading floor of the JSE where he spent the better part of his life. And each time we heard his stories, his enthusiasm and passion for the camaraderie and friendship that existed among stock market traders around the world made them all the more appealing.
A young work colleague, Craig, had a laptop and iPad stolen from a car at his home one night about two weeks ago.
I FIND US politicians and elected officials awfully dull. President Barack Obama seldom smiles when he speaks, Ben Bernanke looks like he's wearing a poker-faced carnival mask when he testifies to Congress, while Tea Party hopeful, Michele Bachmann, is as heavy-hearted as any Nashville songstress.
On Friday at 5.30pm I broke into a cold sweat. No matter how many times I have been on radio, I always like to ensure that I am studiously prepared for any contingency or question a host may throw my way.
WHILE I was home alone one Saturday night about a year or two ago - my wife was visiting our children abroad - I received a call from a producer of a current affairs programme on SAfm asking me to comment on the incident at Free State University in which four undergraduates had been accused of cruelly mistreating hostel staff.
WHILE talking to friends over the weekend, the conversation veered from disquiet over Julius Malema's benefactors and Desmond Tutu's proposals to tax wealthy whites to alarm over the demolition of their savings.
I HAVE known Mark Lamberti, non-executive chairman of Massmart, for well over a decade.
I have some sympathy with trade union federation chief Zwelinzima Vavi's squabble about "fat cat" pay rises for executive directors.
EVERY now and again I drive past my childhood home in Mowbray Road, Greenside.
I'M RUNNING away from the country. It's not because I'm troubled by Julius Malema's threats of dropping in for tea and cheese while he and his obtuse band of marauders pillage the countryside, nor because I'm missing the chance of watching my dear grandchildren perform in their school concerts on the other side of the world. No, it is because I cannot suffer the cold weather on the Highveld any more.
One of the attractions of investing on the stock market is that you don't need a business brain like Brian Joffe (Bidvest), the insights of a Riaan Stassen (Capitec Bank) or, for that matter, the talents of numerous other successful entrepreneurs and industrialists, in order to make money.
David Shapiro: Im extremely fortunate. I live less than 2km from work. It takes me five minutes to drive to the office, giving me more time to catch up with the latest news at breakfast and saving me from the frustration and abuse suffered by hordes of commuters who endure Johannesburg's daily traffic snarl-ups.
