When I worked at the Merc...

...I was always aware of the differences between the guys who grew up in the city and those of us who grew up in the suburbs. "City kids" had infinitely more street smarts than us "suburban kids." I was always so impressed with how well they navigated through the world and were never taken advantage of. They talked fast, were quick to size things up and always seemed to be gaming the system somehow. I, on the other hand, considered myself to be the most naive person in the world. When I was on the trading floor I'm sure I was only aware of about 10% of what was happening around me. I might as well have had a cane and a seeing eye dog.

But city kids had their own ways of being naive. It never ceased to amaze me at how gullible some city kids could be. One guy, for example, bought a condo in Chicago for a Las Vegas stripper that was "in love with him." They were always talking about conspiracies, too. City kids were convinced that everything was "fixed." I always thought it came from a sense of powerlessness and an inability to control their environment. I'll never forget how stunned one guy was when he learned that the U. S. wasn't holding Saddam Hussein captive until just before the 2004 election. I'll bet he's still numb from the shock.

But the best example of city kid naivety was their undying belief in their ability to beat the odds in Las Vegas. It was simple really. All you had to do was walk into a casino, find the "hot table" and know when to "walk away" when the time was right. Simple in conception, maybe; difficult only in execution. But it would only be a matter of time before they would master this art and then the money would really start rolling in. So down to Las Vegas they went, sometimes quarterly, and each time miraculously breaking even, or at least making enough to "pay for the trip." I always thought it was odd that people like Steve Wynn kept building hotel/casinos when the house could only expect to break even at best. He must have grown up in the suburbs.

I remember listening to their stories of how well they did at the tables and it was all I could do not to shake my head at how such street smart guys could be so foolish. I wanted so much just to tell them that it was okay to pay money to go to Las Vegas, pretend you're Frank Sinatra for the weekend, play a little craps, ogle the women, and wait in long lines to eat at restaurants that already had locations just a few miles from your house. But don't kid yourself; it's entertainment. It's no different than going to a Bears game or a movie or any other vacation. It costs money and you should expect to come home with less of it than you had when you left. But what did I know? I was too stupid to realize that the government had faked the whole moon landing.