‘Twas the blog before Christmas, when all through the house Every laptop was purring, every keyboard and mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, So that backgrounds on Zoom calls wouldn’t look quite so bare;
When out on the squawk there arose such a clatter, I refreshed my Bloomberg to check on the matter. Then what to my wondering eyes did appear, But a global growth manager outperforming its peer.
With a ghostly old PM so lively and quick, I listened, engaged, to his every stock pick. More rapid than eagles his recommends came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Buy Bitcoin! Buy Apple! Buy Tesla and Google! ’Cause shorting the future will always prove futile! To the top of the charts, for the big money haul, Go long like you’ve never had a bad margin call!”
As I drew down my cash, and was turning around, Down the chimney John Templeton came with a bound. He was dressed like he owned just a few private jets, Which compared favorably to my “work at home” sweats.
A bundle of hundreds he had flung on his back, Like an entrepreneur with a new public SPAC. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all my orders, then added a perk:
His eyes - how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! As he talked a new strat that would guarantee carry! And out-money calls bought to cover the shorts, Bringing untold riches to long-only sorts.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Made me want to get all of his thoughts on the Fed – And vaccines and rates and bullion and more, But he rose and I followed him out my front door.
A magical Gulfstream waited there in my yard, And up the air-stairs sprang the RIA bard. But I heard Sir John claim, as he flew out of sight - "Let your best winners run, and all will be right!"
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