It’s like watching a train wreck
I just can’t peel my eyes away from the meltdown in the subprime mortgage industry (which is also spreading to other parts of the financial world). If you’re following it, too, check out this Business Week story.
Vanita Trippe has been a Hoover's editor since 1997. Outside of work, she is a wife, a mom, a musician, a podcaster, and a community volunteer.
I just can’t peel my eyes away from the meltdown in the subprime mortgage industry (which is also spreading to other parts of the financial world). If you’re following it, too, check out this Business Week story.
When Accredited Home Lenders belatedly filed its annual report with the SEC this week, some of the dire information contained therein (including a “going-concern” statement) sent the subprime lender’s stock into a nosedive.
While Accredited still apparently has its white knight in the form of private equity lender Lone Star Funds, the industry as a whole is still in need of rescuing. (See previous Bizmology post on the subprime mortgage industry.)
Besides the company-specific info, Accredited’s 10-K contains a succinct little recap of the various woes that have befallen the industry so far in 2007. Here (in a slightly edited form) is the scoop:
And in an unsurprising addendum to the subprime lending industry’s Greatest Hits List, American Home Mortgage announced Friday that it was closed for business.
Despite all of the “floweriness” associated with Lady Bird Johnson, the late First Lady may have been the very epitome of a “steel magnolia.” She parlayed a modest inheritance into a communications empire that helped fund her husband’s campaigns and further his political career. Although she went about her commercial activities quietly, she was by most accounts the brains behind the business. By the 1990s, the family fortune (which came to involve radio and TV stations, cable systems, banks, real estate, and private equity investments) was estimated to be valued at more than $100 million.
Today, the Johnsons’ former radio stations are owned by Emmis Communications, the non-profit wildflower center Mrs. Johnson established in Austin is part of the University of Texas (for which Lady Bird served as a regent for many years), and the LBJ Ranch has been owned by the National Park Service since 1972 (although the family established a life estate for themselves when they donated the property).
Austin abounds with reminders of Lady Bird and LBJ, and all eyes were on our city when the former first lady died last month. For two days, Mrs. Johnson lay in repose at the LBJ Library and Museum, where thousands came to pay their respects.
Austin’s Riverbend Church (also the site of the 2002 Jessica Simpson-Nick Lachey nuptials, now defunct) was packed with presidents, first ladies, and other dignitaries attending Lady Bird’s invitation-only “public” funeral. (A private family service had been held earlier in the week.)
On the Sunday after her death, I rousted my sleepy husband and grumpy teenage son to take an early Capital Metro bus downtown so we could pay our respects to Mrs. Johnson and family as the funeral cortege passed from the state capitol, along Town Lake (soon to be renamed Lady Bird Lake), and out west to the Johnsons’ Hill Country ranch, where she was buried.
As one might expect, wildflowers were a recurring theme among the mourners waiting for the cortege to pass; one young woman even wandered up and down Congress Avenue handing out flowers as remembrances and as reminders of Lady Bird’s lasting contribution to environmentalism in the US.
Many whom Lady Bird touched will also remember her as a businesswoman who helped to build an empire that continues even today, as the members of her family remain active in politics, business, and philanthropy. Austin will miss Lady Bird Johnson, but we’re proud to have been blessed with her grace, beauty, and strength.
When we last visited Wal-Mart’s repeatedly unsuccessful attempts to launch a bank, my parting words were the equivalent of the good ol’ Southern saying “hide and watch.” (Generic translation: Just you wait and see.)
To recap briefly: Consumer groups, financial services organizations, politicos, and government watchdogs had opposed a plan that would have allowed the world’s largest retailer to move into banking.
But, well, where there’s a Wal-Mart, there’s a way. The company recently announced it would move into financial services in a big way, even without the blessing of a bank charter, thank you very much. The move closely followed Wal-Mart’s withdrawal of its much-opposed industrial loan company application, which would have given it broader banking powers, including the ability to make loans.
As it is, the mega-retailer plans to have Wal-Mart MoneyCenters in some 1,000 of its stores by the end of next year. Services (most offered through affiliations with such third parties as Moneygram and CheckFree) largely target the so-called unbanked — the tens of millions of moderate- or low-income Americans who for reasons of necessity or preference don’t have a relationship with a bank or a credit union.
Wal-Mart is already one of the nation’s largest check cashers. Add such services as money transfer and prepaid Visa cards (dubbed Wal-Mart MoneyCards) on a nationwide scale, and you have what amounts to a ginormous bank (albeit one that doesn’t offer savings account or make consumer loans or mortgages … yet.)
Community banks and check-cashing companies (such as Cash America, Ace Cash Express, and Dollar Financial) may say they’re not quaking in their boots, but the vision of a possible future with some 4,000 Wal-Mart stores offering “banking” services coast-to-coast in the US undoubtedly has many companies and institutions racing to revise their business plans.
(Editor’s note: This is a continuation of yesterday’s post chronicling the naughty behavior of the rich and famous.)
Although overnight success can certainly lead to headline-grabbing excess (see: Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, the Olsen twins), old corporate money has a way of engendering “affluenza,” as well. Once you get past the (typically) men of industry who created a family fortune through their own efforts, you often find ensuing generations that reap a harvest of trouble out of their rich idleness.
The Getty family’s oil wealth (such companies as Shell Oil and Chevron can claim Getty lineage) triggered the kidnapping of young John Paul Getty III, who later in life suffered a drug overdose-induced stroke that left him paralyzed and vision-impaired.
The Kennedy clan — bootlegging was the initial source of family wealth — has helped define the phrase “rich kids behaving badly” in recent decades. Teddy’s Chappaquiddick “incident” may have started the trend, but several of his now-deceased nephews carried on the tradition. Michael had an affair with his kids’ babysitter, did a stint in rehab, then died after smashing into a tree during a football game on snow skis. David battled drug and alcohol addiction until his death from an overdose at the age of 28. JFK Jr. stayed clean by comparison, but (like his cousins) was known for dating famous beauties, including Daryl Hannah, Cindy Crawford, Madonna, and Sarah Jessica Parker.
Chicago’s fabulously wealthy — and famously private — Pritzker family is behind such companies as Hyatt Hotels, The Marmon Group, and TransUnion. Although the family has been largely free of the woes visited upon other clans (one young adult family member did commit suicide), the Pritzkers in recent years have been fighting (much more publicly than they’d like) over how best to divvy up the family businesses and wealth. Two young Pritzkers sued their elder kinsmen, accusing them of depleting their trust funds.
Americans aren’t the only ones susceptible to affluence-borne illness: The head of Ireland’s family-owned Dunnes Stores was ousted in 1992 after a Florida binge that reportedly involved illegal drugs and a prostitute.
Despite all of this, though, I’m happy to report that the presence of wealth doesn’t necessarily spell doom for the patient. For a shining example of how a modern-day Croesus can inoculate his offspring, we turn to my capitalist hero, Warren Buffett of Berkshire Hathaway. Mr. B has certainly not left his children Howard, Peter, and Susan in a penniless state; nevertheless, he has pledged the vast majority of his fortune to the Gates Foundation.
Why would he do such a thing, you ask? Well, my guess is that he thinks a lot of kids who’ve been handed wealth are — well — just spoiled. And who wants to be around a spoiled brat, anyway? (Are you listening, Paris?)