Restating the Obvious

A shaggy, wet dog story

Over the past few weeks, I have been reading and listening to a number of enthusiasts for “unleashing the powers of the markets” explain why they are not to blame for where we are now.

They remind me of a story my friend Mike Walsh told about 40 years ago. Mike was Oirish, so the story may not be true. Then again, it may.

Mike was driving his VW down from Maine to Virginia, and as he was passing the outskirts of Boston, a hitchhiker and a dog were standing by the road. While ordinarily Mike mightn't have stopped, it was beginning to rain, so he pulled over, and the man and the dog got in.

Neither man nor dog said a word until they were almost to Baltimore, when the man said, “You can let me out here.”

The man got out and closed the door.

“Hey, mister!” Mike called. “What about your dog?”

“That's not my dog.”

I saw the dog, Mike named him Hitchhike.

“Hey, mister! What about your financial theories?”

“They're not my theories.”