This is how it happens. One minute, you can be working at Wells Fargo Family Wealth. The next minute, Steve Bodurtha can be on the phone, begging you to join him at Citi Private Bank. And you fly there, as in a dream. Like the Duc de Richelieu going after the Talisman of Set. Which, rather disturbingly, was a mummified penis. But we will not explore the private life of Mr Tekler. Each to his own!
O Master, please tell me who Gabriel Azedo is.
How strange life is! When Larry was a child, did he dream of Citi Private Bank? Or was his head full of fire engines and fighter planes? I would like to take him back in time to the innocent days of his youth. Eighteen or so. He was a late developer. 'Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth.' Happy days!
O Master, please tell me who Gabriel Azedo is.
I wonder if Larry ever went off on a mad fandango, like Kevin Costner in my favourite film. Did Larry ever jump out of a plane without a parachute? Did he lose his dream girl to his best friend? But we will not explore the mysteries of this man's life. He is a butterfly, caught in my hand. I must let him go. Farewell!
Does anyone know who Gabriel Azedo is?
O my child, take a day off, will you?
