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As you have surmised, I am returning to my beloved Palo Alto. Turns out this is a Non-Smoking flight, which clears things up quite a bit. All this time I thought it was the year 1973.
Anyway, what a bizarre time to be on the road, huh? And how silly I feel for worrying and wringing my hands in October how we were all going to get tricked again, just like in early February. Not this time, boy. This market is broken. So, so broken. And the devastating, destructive, global financial panic that I’ve been dreaming about for so long has finally been born like a smiling child in a crib.
I was originally going to be back midday Tuesday, but I’ve rearranged flights to get back in the saddle late tonight. I can’t stomach being away from all my computers and screens an longer. Running this site remotely is just too awkward. While I am sorting through my own charts, just an update on the wonderful world of crypto – – one glance at the charts will tell you all you need to know.
Well, folks, just ten trading days to go this year. I’m in a constant conversation with myself about how much risk to take. I’ve got a good profit. Do I just go to all-cash and guarantee it, thus avoiding the traitorous and self-serving actions of the clearly-cowardly Jerome Powell, or do I boldly try to enhance the profits until the bitter end? Dunno. The market isn’t exactly screaming “bull-party” at the moment. 2620 was the key, and last night’s attempt at a rally flopped before it even got there.
In all likelihood, I’ll remain relatively aggressive up to the Fed meeting. If Powell slips on a pink taffeta dress and runs shrieking in terror from having his feels hurt by a Trump tweet, then I’ll probably just shut ‘er down for the year. Wednesday is the pivot point. It’s going to be exciting.