What a month ahead of us, before the Thanksgiving break we have three weeks of trading, birthdays for Ilene and my brother Bob, an election, the anniversary of JFK's murder and full calendar of snow and cold in eastern Washington. So I sit here, with Imus on in the corner, getting ready for another trading day, wondering about my Dad, who's heart gave out three weeks after the great crash of 1987 and for whom I will light a yarzeit candle tonight at sunset, and tell him how much I miss him after all these years.
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