Monday, May 06, 2013
“We Want to Win”: The Berkshire Hathaway Annual Meeting, 2013 Edition
Well props to ‘CD 105.9’ is all I can think, driving east on Dodge Street in a cold rain to the Berkshire Hathaway shareholder meeting early on a dark Saturday morning. The reason for my good mood? The Omaha “classic rock” station I’ve had my rental car radio set to the last three days is playing “Back in the USSR,” making this the first time I’ll have been to a Berkshire meeting with Paul McCartney’s Beatles-era send-up of communist Russia ringing in my ears. “Let me hear your balalaikas ringing out/come and keep your Comrade warm/I’m back in the USSR/You don’t know how lucky you are, boy/Back in the USSR.” What better way to get ready for Warren Buffett’s “Woodstock for Capitalists” than that? Unfortunately, while CD 105.9 manages to mix more Beatles into its playlist than most “classic rock” formats do (they played “With a Little Help From My Friends” twice in two days)—something I’ve never quite understood, since The Beatles’ catalogue is about as “classic” as it gets—the good vibes never last long because the station also plays an inexplicably heavy rotation of Bob Seger. Enough about him. Pondering this strange play list as the final A chord on “USSR” fades out, I focus on my driving, because there’s still snow on the ground here in Omaha—unusual at this time of year, when the fields should be springing to life—and the roads are slick with rain, which is why they’ve already opened up the CenturyLink arena to Berkshire shareholders and Buffett groupies instead of forcing them to wait outside until the normal 7 a.m. doors-open time, according to a text message from a waiting acquaintance who’s already nabbed a seat inside and is saving one for me.
Disoriented in Downtown Omaha
But it’s not just the early morning darkness and wet roads causing me to pay more attention than usual. Omaha’s had a growth spurt since last year’s meeting, a fact I’d discovered last night trying to find the Hilton, which is right next door to the CenturyLink Center (where the meeting takes place), and both the hotel and the arena used to stand out like the Empire State Building (in its heyday) above an otherwise barren strip of vacant lots and highway exit ramps just a few blocks from downtown Omaha. But most of those lots have given way to multi-story parking garages, hi-tech warehouses, bustling industrial buildings and a baseball stadium (Omaha hosts the college world series every summer), causing me to lose my bearings more than once last night and prompting me to pay attention this morning. (It’s not just the business district that’s growing: the Old Market area—Omaha’s Soho, if you will—is changing, too. What used to be not much more than a square city block of jarring cobblestone streets and red bricked restaurants, bars and the occasional shop has spread into neighboring streets, with new restaurants everywhere and even a near-high-rise condo building going up along its fringe.) I park on a side street in a metered spot a few blocks from the CenturyLink—the parking meters aren’t used on Saturdays (a little trick to save the $8 they now charge for event parking…I could swear it was $5 last year)—and head to the show while admiring the new buildings, which seem to be everywhere. It’s almost Miami-esque, at least in terms of quantity if not in bling. After all, the Midwest doesn’t do bling.
Not Exactly ‘Hard Time Mississippi’
It does do volatile weather, of course, and the cold rain has eliminated the usual long lines of eager shareholders waiting for the doors to open, pushing everyone inside to find a seat and then get coffee before the movie starts. I find my seat and settle down while absorbing the scene inside the arena, where 19,000 other people are finding their seats while Stevie Wonder’s gritty “Living For the City” plays on the sound system—painting quite a verbal contrast with the very rich, urbane crowd gathering here: “A boy is born/in hard time Mississippi/surrounded by four walls that ain’t so pretty/his parents give him love and affection/to keep him strong, moving in the right direction/Living just enough, just enough for the city…” Paul Simon’s “The Boy In the Bubble” comes on next, its terrific beat marred by reference to “the bomb in the baby carriage,” which is a little to close to the recent events in Boston for comfort, so I head out to try to find Mario Gabelli, who usually works the floor for investment ideas from locals he has been grilling for decades, as only Mario can, and immediately bump into Doug Kass and his son Noah. Doug is the short-seller Buffett has chosen to be on the panel of three analysts asking questions (in conjunction with another panel of three reporters asking questions, with shareholders making up the rest), and we hug despite him carrying a bulging briefcase and a clutch of papers. Dougie is prepared, as well he should be, but that’s no surprise to me. We go way back to the early days of TheStreet.com, where the strictures of a for-profit enterprise eventually led me to start this not-for-profit blog, and I’ve always admired his willingness to say what he means and mean what he says without the need for crowd approval—a trait that will come in handy today. Read more of this post
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