[Chapter 661: The Long-Awaited Farm Life]
William White sensed that his operations in Texas had become somewhat thin. His previous expansions had indeed been overconfident.
Those California bastards were quite sneaky; he needed to be careful. It took a lot of guts to stir things up in his own backyard, and William admired their audacity.
Los Angeles wasn't Houston; as the second-largest city in the U.S., it had a high proportion of other ethnic groups. Just looking at the current situation made it clear that there was no chance of sorting things out.
If William White had to say, it was all habits that caused the problems. Besides, did anyone really think ol' Bush didn't enjoy a good fight?
Ha, the treasury could run a marathon. The continuously rising deficit was quite humorous, really. Were they planning to make sacrifices just to go to war?
Whenever William returned to his territory, he always made it a point to ride around on horseback. Today was a bit different; he had brought along his eldest daughter.
This action shouldn't be underestimated -- the old hands on the farm knew what it meant: this child, born with a silver spoon, wasn't some illegitimate daughter; she also had a claim to inheritance.
The cowboys didn't care much about other things; they now knew how much the Whites valued this farm.
"Daddy, I want a horse, one that belongs to me."
"Alright, I'll have them buy a good one. You need to learn to take care of it. If it wins races in the future, Daddy will be very happy."
"I want a white one."
"Athena, that's not a good idea; white is actually a color prone to issues. They start out blue as foals. Let me check: do you want a filly or a mature horse?"
The father and daughter rode around the farm, occasionally chatting with some cowboys. Over the years, White Farm's vineyard had grown significant. They sold grape juice and red wine quite well.
In that regard, William White was quite attentive to the farm. Farmers had taken quite a hit during the economic ups and downs in the past few years. Without any extra income, it was hard not to fold.
Many folks dreamed of owning a farm, but truthfully, farming was tough. Labor here was cheaper than in the city, but excessively unstable. Men in their thirties and forties did okay, but younger guys often took off looking for fortune elsewhere.
Of course, William's farm was pretty decent. If someone really disliked cattle herding, they could always work at the winery. This made White Farm relatively bustling. Some younger men reconsidered their plans to try their luck in Houston.
The best jobs were right under their noses; if they still decided to mess things up themselves, it was no one's fault but their own.
"Honey, you look much better these days. If there's nothing important going on, stay put. And no funny business."
"Okay, okay, now you're complaining about me. When you say that, I'm really hurt, you know."
"Don't play that card. There are just some things you can't keep doing." William laughed merrily; they already had three kids, yet he could still feel her face turn red at the mention of such things.
"Alright, alright, I promise to hold onto you and not move around."
Farm life was indeed very laid-back. William White found he had actually gained two pounds. Not good; for every inch gained, another was lost, so he needed to work out more.
...
"Sir, the academy wants to confirm if you'll attend the award ceremony as scheduled."
"Lisa, have those old folks lost their minds? I'm not senile. Just tell them things remain the same."
"Understood, sir." The young assistant secretly rolled her eyes. You're living in bliss here while the world outside is anxious for your news.
William White actually wanted to say, if I hadn't agreed ahead of time, there would be no way I could attend now. What's the Oscars to me? I don't believe you'd dare to steal my little gold man.
...
Seeing a handsome cowboy dressed in the right gear, Filson felt quite torn. He'd seen unreliable folks before, but he had never seen anyone as reckless as this guy. Ignoring a billion-dollar deal to tend cattle?
Man, the cattle piled high here surely weren't cut out to match your business.
"Uh, sir, do you know how to herd cattle?"
"Filson, that's an amateur question. Herding cattle in Texas is incredibly casual. You just need to take care of those pesky wolves, the rest is up to God."
William wasn't just blowing smoke; although there were modern farms, true Texans preferred the old ways. Cattle ranching was primarily for exporting or selling to city folks. In William's words, city folks could last long but weren't good for much.
"Sir, we've finalized the BP deal; now, you're one of the top ten oil company owners in the world."
"Ha ha ha, nice, nice. Weren't the British waiting for prices to go up?"
Filson sighed. What's there to wait for now? Crude was suffering; unless it took three to five years, it wouldn't recover. Those Germans had taken on a hot mess this year; things weren't good for them either.
With the economy of the Big Three (America, Germany, and Japan) in a rut, oil output was on the rise. Kuwait had quickly restored its production capacity, and if all went well, they could easily fill the big gap left by the Saudis.
In such a situation, oil prices could hardly stay above twenty bucks. The British had figured out the situation and were simply passing the blame.
What? Prices would rise in the future?
And what of it?
That was a matter of tomorrow, and it might not even be their problem. If they couldn't cut losses swiftly, their treasury could run dry.
"Sir, Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley have both downgraded the economic outlook. Right now, only Lehman Brothers maintains an optimistic view of this year's economic situation."
"Ha, that's interesting. In my opinion, all predictions in an election year are just hot air. What they say hardly qualifies as predictions themselves. Do they even believe it?"
"Ha ha, more or less. Our think tank assesses that the economic conditions there are unstable, and if they continue to tighten their grip on liquidity, the situation could worsen. As for America, the high-tech sector has been holding strong, and by the latest third quarter, a good wave is expected."
The third quarter, huh? William sighed. Looks like ol' Bush was in for a tough time. The third quarter was just a smidge late. Come on, can't you throw some coal on the fire for the tech industry?
In fact, there was no shame in sucking up to others. One could easily claim, "My plan is far better than Gore's." Considering the time was of the essence, it would be better to push that forward first.
"By the way, Filson, since they're not optimistic, are there anyone selling off some stocks?"
"No, just hedging some positions. The funds aren't substantial; instead, they're raising money."
"See, I knew they intended to pick up those bloody chips. The Federal Reserve has printed bucks non-stop. Haha, they're planning to inflate the world's biggest bubble. Sigh, aside from resources, I hardly know what else to invest in."
"Ha ha, it might be tough. Lehman and those investment banks clearly aren't buying in. As for retail investors, they don't have much clout."
"Alright, let's not express our opinions. Let them fuss around as they please. Filson, take a couple of days off; you need some exercise."
William White had made his move early; he didn't need to jump into the fray now. He was content to watch the performance from the sidelines, very curious about how these bastards planned to bottom-fish.
*****
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