THE AFFLUENT TREE-HOUSE: (Part I: The Rise and Fall of builders of the American empire)

7/31/2019 THE AFFLUENT TREE-HOUSE: (Part I: The Rise and Fall of builders of the American empire)

1/19

THE AFFLUENT TREE-HOUSE:

(Part I: The Rise and Fall of builders of the American

empire)

(My Tree-house is better than yours! Nah, Nah, Nah,

Nah..Nah!)

By Mike Dietzel


2/19

Historical settings: The Banks take down the

American dream. The Year 2008.

Let Wall Street have a nightmare and the whole

country has to help get them back in bed again

Will Rodgers

Armaments, universal debt and planned

obsolescence those are the three pillars of Western

prosperity. Aldous Huxley


3/19

Driving sets a man's mind to muddle through his town's past and for me, I

had seen my little town for over fifty years.It was never a town, who was going toimpress the urbane, nor was it a town whose claim to fame is that country quaintness.Busloads of Chinese or Japanese tourist are not going to stop and buy trinkets or fudge,in my town. My town was really just a middling town. Boring and beige was its innercolor motif. However, with a strange twist of the flicked finger of fate, some pseudocelebrities have been created here. More, than anyone would ever imagine.Even though there has been some minor celebrities outbreaks occurring here, with oneSci-Fi TV star, a Mt. Pleasant kid, almost hitting the big time. Sadly, for him, his realfame rose slightly, when he married that girl from that sugary ode to American's getting

stuck in Minnesota, on a TV show called Little House on the Boring flat Prairie, andthe place where the strange hobby of ice fishing was created. (You must really be boredor hate your family to try and catch fish in the middle of a freezing winter.)Sadly, even that marriage didn't last. The little house on the Prairie marriage hit one ofthose divorce lawyers dust bowls. I can see this divorce effect along with the financialcollapse churning through my block.

As my neighborhood is filled with mic-mansions stating the orgasm of the good

times and the down home dirty blues of shuttered windows with plywood and foreclosedstarter homes, no longer quaint places for a new couple to begin their American journey.There is nothing outstanding about my town, but you can go home again and see ifanything radical has occurred. The town itself somehow has had its moments of beingmentioned. The brief reference in a Movie is more likely used as a Hollywood put-downof the Hicks, or middle-class norm that has ruled the town. Here is another clue foryou all, the town's police car was featured in a Movie.For some strange reason, or maybe as some sort of cosmic joke, my little town gets

placed inside a taste of Pop entertainment.

My town was not totally unhip and even made a slight dent in Pop music. Yes,twice we had made some in roads in the wacky, wonderful world of Pop/Rock Music,You see Mt. Pleasant had a tiny bit of Rock and Roll fame. Yes, we had a rock bandwhich was called The Shadows of Knight. This was an almost vital attempt to stem thetide of the Beatles and the British invasion. The group did break out in the Pop Rock topforty, with their one hit wonder fame of GLORIA,all original members of the

band did do time in my little town. Mt. Pleasant of course is a fake name for my time,but if you like mysteries or little puzzles here are some clues.


4/19

First clue: The town had a once impressive Mall, which is now being scaled downto an updated strip mall with condos. (You think the condo craze would havedisappeared like the dodo bird. The only thing that loses money faster than a condo isthat car you just drove off the lot.)

Second clue: One of the towns residents, a mere youngster, meaning a guy in histwenties, won a singing contest that used to be hosted by a very cranky Brit, and the

poor kid now sadly has disappeared into oblivion. That poor schmuck VANISHEDWITHOUT A HIT RECORD. Ok, I am old. I guess it should be an Mp3 download hit?

Mt. Pleasant may have seen touches of greatness, but a lot of stupid, loutish, racist,murderous things from this little town outweigh any momentary lapses of greatness.

(My neighborhood was full of evil ones: One lawyer or ambulance chaser that was pureevil as a child,a bully,a killer of small animals, a drunken adulterous bible thumper, anda mediocre serial killer, a Mafia hit man, even one of those vacuous blonde ladies onBravo, originally resided in the town. (These stories will be released later.) But, it wasthe sight of working in the garden of my family home to see a structure that joggedmemories of the 1960's building boom.

It was the new neighbor kids, playing on one those play structures sort of a tree-house, play house monstrosity. Jesus, those kids are actually playing out side and not

hooked up to some damn electronic device. I go on with my weeding and picking mytomatoes when I am shocked that these kids actually start talking to me.

I am an old fart, and normally I only get to converse with insurance salesman or asenior bitching about life's end of the road. The two toe-headed diapered crowd is a

brother three years old and a sister that is two, they shout out, HI! with enthusiasmthat is sorely lacking from my other neighbors.I am stunned, flabbergasted, because most of the neighbors, the old ones and the newones normally don't talk to neighbors. HI, You kids have a nice play house.


5/19

The kids are bubbling with joy and are totally into this outdoor lifestyle. It hitsme these kids are immigrant kids. These kids are new to America; they are not pallid,and their brains are not overwhelmed with digital information and electronic toys,and their bodies are not made fat like a goose being forced fed with pop-tarts. Ifigured out the accent is Polish; they fit the kids of my generation, the blonde hair

from being outside all day and playing and climbing, finding bugs, getting dirty.Jesus, we need more immigrants like this to improve this land of downloaded dementedteenagers, constant consumers of treacle dreck and pot-bellied kids who are sluggishand depressed Islaves of Americans.

Wait, holy crap, this was my life. I was those kids playing outside all the time.There were no friggin computers in the home, when I was a snot nose brat.

Yes, even I had a playhouse that my father, the old man, picked up. It was a

true work of Hillbilly art, in fact. It was a shack. A true ode to American's nailingthings together and creating a rustic ode to our ancestor's miserable abodes.However, as kids, we loved that shack; it was a hide-out, a fort, a place to hidethings from the adult world. The old man was not handy with tools, but he could nailin a nail. The shack he came home with was a prefab. He got the shack from one of hisHillbilly drivers who had most likely moved his brother-law out of the shack and gothis whole family into one of those new fangled double wide trailers. It is sort ofnice to be able to move your house on wheels when youstart hating the neighbors. Even our brick Cape code house should have a set of

wheels, but that story comes later.

Dad, had a habit of picking up things for the house that appeared to be junk or

purchases of pure craziness. He mainly bought stuff if it made sense for our houseor for his hobby of flying model airplanes and turning them into kindling wood.Pop's even traded something from his collection of junk with Charley Thomas, and wegot a riding lawn mower.


6/19

This was another amazing ode to Hillbilly creativity and automotive engineering.It was my job to cut the grass at our house, all though not a large house, we had avery large backyard, that meant I spent at least hour pushing a rusty Sears mowerthrough the weeds, crabgrass to get shaved down to the crew-cut style of lawn that

was fashionable back then. Pops had gotten Charley to drop off, a fire-engine redriding lawn mower, that was sort of a home-built creation of parts from all differentlawn mowers. The mower even included a Mack truck hood ornament. The bulldoggleamed proudly in the sun to announce to my neighbors my lawn-mower is kick ass;you schleps. I felt like riding around the neighborhood and yelling out:KEEP ON PUSHING YOU LOSERS!

Pops put gas and oil into the machine and went through the levers, and he nowinstructed me to begin cutting the grass. What I didn't know at the time was that

Hillbillies by nature love to soup up their engines, even on a lawn mower. Once I putthe lawn-mower into gear, the damn lawn-mower threw me back in the seat and poppeda wheelie, as I step on the gas. The lawn-mower was on its two back wheels like adragster. I could cut the whole yard in about fifteen minutes, give or take any ofthe bushes I ran down with misguided steering. I really loved that machine.

Well, in between the riding mower, was the time spent playing army and runningabout, and we for some strange reason dug up holes and made fox holes and tunnels. Itwas very fortuitous if one is heading to Vietnam. My shack or playhouse the military

headquarters was in the corner of our yard and was an eye sore to the more fastidiousneighbors, but we paid them no mind, while they recorded every ascetic infraction.Actually thinking back upon that structure it did have sort of an outhouse feel aboutit, or maybe more of a shed to keep goats, so I do understand their revulsion.

It was certain neighbors, that we paid very close attention to, as they were of the

Bully class, and had to be monitored for the possibility of them turning on you alongwith their ability to be giving you an atomic wedgie or some sort of beat down. Forsome strange reason, sometimes two bullies form alliances. Sort of like Hitler and Stalin.

It was those two bullies Ricky Stulz and Johnny Zapple, who made my life and otherspure misery.


7/19

You went through your own neighborhood sort of twitchy,with nerve endstingling, hoping not to encounter them. Ricky was the bigger of the bullies. Ricky is aGorilla size bully with the bearing of Herman Goring, conceited, full of himself.Johnny Zapple was a henchman and not the brains of the outfit, scrawny underfed, rat

like in manners and actions. A pure mean streak coursed through his veins.

In-between their bully they sometimes tried normal kid like activities. Yes, thosetwo created their own tree fort, which proved that even evil likes to build things.Did you ever notice how many giant odes to ego that Hitler built before the wholething was blown apart?

I can see myself now as a chunky eight-year-old on this very patio, justscrewing off with catching bugs, butterflies and wandering around my back yard. I see

my nemeses the evil ones hard at work cutting, and nailing boards together, as longas they are busy I am safe.My brain ponders why bullies exist and how there seems a never-ending shit-heads in

the world to make one's life a living hell.

What makes a bully tick?Is there a genius there?

You really can't forget you encounters with bullies, it like turning your mind to a

way back machine. I can still see the bullies to this day. It is 1968; it is peaceand love except in my neighborhood. There I am a chubby twelve-year-old, happy thatit is summer but aware of the danger of the older, non-followers of peace and love.

You are now in my backyard in the wondrous days of summer, the doldrums. I feelthe freedom from such things as Modern math and dangling participles.My transistor radio is playing the top forty hits. I am a chunky music junkie, who

longs to be a hippie with a blonde, Bridget Bardot type girlfriend who worships meand my long flowing hippie locks. Sadly, this would not occur, and I was saddled witha crew-cut (ordered from my Father ex-marine), who thinks the crew-cut is the only

acceptable style.


8/19

As I turn to scan to see the status of Rickys demeanor, he hopefully will ignore meand go about his normal business. Oh crap! Johnny Zapple is with him, and he is evenworse than Ricky.

The last time, I encounter these two butt heads. They tore up my autographcollection of sports stars and then punched me in the stomach until I almost threw up.

Oh no, Zapple spotted me.

HEY FAT BOY! GOT ANY MORE AUTOGRAPHS WE CAN SEE!

Johnny Zapple says this while laughing that evil laugh.My hatred is boiling, but they are bigger and in a pair, so my option is to keep my mouthshut. Like a cat surrounded by pit bulls, I am ready to run back in the house if I becomea target to anymore assaults.Hey, John! Stop wasting time on him, we have to start the Treehouse.

Thankfully, Ricky is ordering rat-boy around, so I am safe for now.

As I am watching the proceedings, I hear footsteps and lucky for me, it is not the bulliesbut Mark McNabster. Hey Detz, whats happening.

Mark had picked up the hippie lingo of the day, from his older brothers, who had thelatest records. He was rebelling against his parents Southern Baptist roots and whocouldnt blame him.

Like all kids with summer upon them; Mark was suffering from the kid's summerdoldrums.

What dya wanna do? How about a game of tether ball or hand ball?Lets play tether ball, so we can keep an eye on those two butt heads.

As we saunter to my backyard, we will be directly across the Stulzs backyard, whichwill give us room to maneuver out of range of any flying object flung at us. Like asolider in battle, a kid has to keep aware movements and locations of your enemies.We didnt stare but glanced over as we set up to play tether ball.

Hey Detz, did you ever get a stereo yet?


9/19

Music, was a big thing as the Beatles had given a new sound and excitement to ourlimited kid world.

Yes, but it is more a piece of furniture than the stereo system I wanted.

It is Magnvox with crappy speakers, when I wanted a Harmon Karden setup up, Iended up that hunk of junk.Oh yeah, parents dont understand anything about the latest gear. Mark says thisshaking his head. My parents are closer to being Hicks and Farmers then even yours.Dissing ones parents could be turned into a game of one-upmanshipMy parents are so lame.We both were trying to fit in with the new hippie movement, fit in and become cool.

Mark interjects that his ace in the hole was access to older brothers stuff.

I use my older brother stereo as its got one hundred watts, and it really kicks ass.We start the Tether ball game and between the whams, we over hear the two bullies tostart working on their construction project.There was an oddity of the breakdown of the neighbor kids, some were still dressing andacting like in was the 1950s, like Ricky, and the bankers kid. Other kids were getting onthat new found spirit of letting your hair grow longer while listening to music your

parents would hate.

Ricky, however, did all those traditional things that look great on a kid resume.He was Boy Scout, but of course, he would never help an old lady cross the street.For the sports part of the resume, he joined midget Football, but of course Ricky was nomidget in the weight department. Even though this was the time of going againstorganizations and rules, Ricky stayed away from the hippie, love vibe with the intensityof G. Gordon Liddy or that nut job Glen Beck.


10/19

Now it hit me. This was Ricky being creative and using his hands for manual labor,which was a first hippie thing Rickie ever did. Holy Twiggy, Donovan, Tiny Tim andLaugh In, Ricky is having a moment of Hippie craziness:

Does Ricky the Kid genius has a hippie side? Or it may be related to our inner chimpbrain that makes us climb trees and build tree forts as kids, but for now, I wondered whythe kid genius couldn't create something more astounding?Mark and I stop the game, as we glance at the two bullies hammering, sawing andswearing while creating a system to hoist up the wood for their odd ode to architecture.

Hey, look at that piece of junk.Mark says this while pointing to a pile of wood that was nailed crookedly into theStulz maple tree in the backyard.We all start laughing at their inept attempts at construction.

Mark looks on with smile and smirk summing up Ricky's current academic standards.

Wait, isnt Ricky some sort of genius and boy scout woodsman?

Well, according to his parents, he is a genius, but you know how that goes.

You know. It proves that his genius cant be related to architecture.

Mark says laughing.Yeah you would think since if he was a genius he would have started with ablueprint or even a sketch to plan the design out before he just started

I loved to point out Rickys flaws to anybody who would listen, since RickysMom was constantly was shoving her kids report card in my Moms face proving thather kids were better.It was like my one shining moment to say, Take that you big Ahole.


11/19

It was at that very moment, that I understood life with a blinding clarity.

Like an ice bath or dip in Lake Michigan in the fall or winter, the truth, the

friggin truth smacked me upside the head. While witnessing Ricky's feeblybuilding of a tree house, when I realize that most of life is PR, pure bullshit. I

burst out this pearl of wisdom to Mark, but who knows if he kept it as his

Mantra.All that parents praise and awards from teachers are a lot of bull shit.

Mark, just nodded his head in agreement since, his Father was an English Teacher

at Prospect, so he was suffering some conflict there.We heard Ricky barking orders at Zapple:HOLD THAT PIECE STRAIGHT WHILE I NAIL IT IN.

Now, we both focused on their insane stress tests.At one point of the building project, Ricky and Johnny imagine a young version ofLaurel and Hardy as their odd size of one big, fat and the other underfed and boneskinny made a strange couple. The two boneheads would jump on the wood they justnailed into the tree to see if it could hold their weight. Johnny Zapple was rat like inappearance and a lightweight in both brains and stature. Since Ricky was twelve, but

already almost two hundred and seventy pounds, this was quite a stress test. Johnny wasonly about ninety pounds, so his tests were a lot safer,than the giant Ricky jumping upand down on this rickety piece of crap they just built. Ricky was one lucky bastard, asthe G-forces of his jumps was creating seismic tremors against the boards. It was puredumb luck that these boards held up to the punishing Sumo Kid Genius jumping up anddown like them with a trampoline effect.

I watched as the two numb skulls, were hammering and slinging wood, when

suddenly I heard a Ricky scream in pain. The kid genius had whacked his own thumbwith his own hammer, while Johnnys rat face looked on. Johnny as a Frenemy had atiny smirk on, that he was trying to vainly conceal.Of course, Mark and I started laughing, but made sure that I could run back inside

my house, in case they turned their wrath onto us. As are laughter grew, so did Rickysrage, and he then instructed his henchmen Zapple to go to work. When we moved backto the Tether ball game and our backs were turned, we couldnt help but laugh nor couldwe stifle our breakdowns of joy at Ricky grasping his thumb and shaking like a chimp.


12/19


13/19

There was a big flaw in this plan. The garage doors didnt lock. The old man neverbothered to have a lock installed on the side door or lost the key.

Shit, Damn, Crap!

Whats wrong? We are safe in here? Mark asked not knowing that I screwed up likeany C student might.

THE DOORS DONT LOCK! I confessed knowing that we were screwed once wetried the doors.

All the blood drained out of faces, as we know that we were trapped like druggedout test rats in the science lab, the stupid ones that cant find their way out ofthe maze.

Ok, but they dont know the doors dont lock.

Mark said this with a slight tinge of hope.We can tie the big garage door shut with that extension cord. We frantically startfumbling and tie the door the best we can.I hear Ricky and Johnny clomping around outside circling like hyenas over a deadcarcass.

Jesus, we are trapped. Mark said this with that look of defeat like anykid that suffered at the hands of a bully could recognize immediately.

Lets get some weapons, look, there are some golf clubs and wait bug spray.I throw Mark a three wood and grab the driver, as the longer the club the better. Eachhas a big wooden head and better chance of scoring a punch without close contact.There was a pounding at the garage door. Then silence.We are assuming that as agenius Ricky would figure out we were stuck in the garage. Itwas only a matter of time.

WE KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE, AND WE ARE GOING TO GET YOU!Zapple said this in his normal evil tone and laughter. Before, I go get pelted with wood

and nails he is going to get a couple smacks with this driver.We started bracing for the worst. They started pulling at the garage door. The door cameoff the ground about six inches, but they hadnt discovered the side door.Zapple was pulling when we heard Ricky shout:

Go to the side door while I hank on this one.OH CRAP! Mark, get ready! Lets block the side door with this cabinet.The door starting opening and grabbed the handle and held.


14/19

JUST YOU WAIT!, ILL GET RICKY TO KNOCK THE DOOR DOWN!

ZAPPLE hissed this warning, and then knew what to do next.I became evil myself and found my hidden genius when I picked up a bag of cowmanure we used for the garden, garden gloves and started forming five balls of cow shit.

I grabbed a can of Raid only to hold him off them if cow shit balls didn't hold him off.

Mark, I am going let the door open up a tad, but get ready to swing that club if Zapplegetss in. WHAT, ARE YOU CRAZY.

The door opened a crack, and I could see Zapple beady rat face.I then shook the can Raid as a warning.

OK, ZAPPLE BACK OFF YOU ARE GONNA GET IT.

The raid can, maybe him back off. Mark stayed back and made a few dung balls ofdestruction then ran outside as Ricky made his charge like a bull-elephant in heat.

WANNA ARE YOU GOING TO DO FATTY!Maybe it was last daunt, but I didnt give shit, I took direct aim with a dung ball and hithim directly in the face, directly in his eyes.

Keep coming Zapple and you will get the Raid.

I then threw more dung balls right in his face, as Mark kept Stulz at bay with a giantdung ball.We ran for my back door, and I sprayed a cloud of Raid near them to back them up.

The cloud kept them at bay and like a tear gas, it was effective for crowd control,although I didn't make a direct hit, the pesticide kept them at a distance withwatering eyes.SON OF A BITCH, WHEN I FIND YOU OUT ON THE STREET.I...cough.... AM GOING TO KILL YOU!

Zapple yelled this, which means I would have to hide for a month.

As I peer out the door, I see Ricky waddling towards his buddy quickly wiping theireyes.We are in the clear now, Mark.Mark and I had beaten the enemy, but knowing that we had enemies for life:Mark summed it up: Holy crap, are they going to be pissed.we'd better hide for awhile," I said this knowing that we should hide until those


15/19

two bastards go off to college. I am going to run and get into my house and hide, good luck Detz.

I had been hiding from Zapple and Stulz. If I did venture outside, I always

carried a can of Raid with me. It hit me that just the mere sight of that can of

bug spray would make Zapple back off.

For the next couple of weeks, I was like Howard Hughes hiding and dodging

people to avoid any confrontations.

I tried not to think about those two butt heads, but the problem is one

cant escape a neighbor who is totally devoted to her son and who resides

in the house right next to your house. As a direct neighbor there wasconstant chance of encountering them by just taking out the garbage.

Although, people in the 1960s were more social, but not in a normal manner,

mainly it involves kid snits, or dealing with lost, borrowed tools or holiday

get together.

I watched from my Kitchen window as those evil bastards completed their

tree-house which was the most rickety piece of crap ever designed.Sadly, chimps in the wild make better nests with trigs and branches than those two

accomplished in three weeks of nailing and sawing. The two numbskull had been puttingthe final touches on their triumph to architecture, when Rickys devoted Mom came outto inspect his handy work. This of course, wasnt Rose, his Mother, had in mind. Thisstructure was not good enough. So Momma Rose, told Ricky that he needed bettermaterial and would order his Father to get the correct building materials, thus a templeto Rickys ego could be built. Maybe it was pushy Egyptian Mothers not spacealiens that had the pyramids built?

Two weeks later Rickys father Richard Stulz tore down Rickys and Johnny'shandy work and started a Tree house with railroad ties, support beams and cedar shakesiding. He put more time and effort in this project than some of the neighbors had in

putting on home additions.(Ricky, didnt get involved in the second building project, but Ricky's Mother demandeda more suitable abode for her precious son. She worshiped her son, as if he was Jesus

reincarnated.)


16/19

The new tree house was beautiful and thing of wonder.

(Here is a photo I took circa 1968.) Sadly, the person that bought the Stulzhomestead tore it down.)

It was a thing of architecture splendor; one of the incredible American ingenuity, butit had one fatal flaw. Kids, being kids, now ignored the Tree House that was like the TajMahl, since it wasnt a kid built structure. Ricky never noticed all the hard work andmoney that his parents gave him. The dedication to the kid genius was astounding to meand my folks, as old man Stulz had already put a twelve-hour day working forComEd,as a line man. Ironically, after old man Stulz, put in his time and sweaty efforts,the only one that used the new improved Tree house was the oldest Stulz child Diane, asa refuge from Rickys bullying. Ricky the bully ended up owning his own business andscrewing up with a life of leisure until his business fell apart. John Zapple became acollege drug dealer and later had a failed marriage along with a shady lifestyle.

I walk to the patio and mull over my life and the concept of kid-hood. What otherparents spent that much money on wooden object that the kids will ignore. Even one ofthe idiots I work with bought a playhouse for his three daughters, and they now nevereven go near it. When his wife, who is the main bread winner is pissed at him. Shelocks him out of the house. He luckily ends sleeping in the playhouse. I guess the


17/19

five thousand dollars for playhouse wasn't such a bad idea if you can use it asoutside bedroom and sleep in it.

It is getting hot on the patio, and the cats want to go back in the house.We all start heading for the back door, and we collapse on the recliner.My life has been reduced to being a cat mattress, but at least they dont ignore melike my two daughters. Maybe the cats know that I left the house and what littlecash; I have left to them in the will. Screw my human family. If leaving your estate toyou pet is good enough for that horrible Hemsley lady its good enough for me.

I turn on the TV to catch the latest news on the Financial front or the war against

my retirement. It is a handful to see what is left of my 401K, which was hit by thedebacle on Wall-Street. Lets try CNBC as they seem to be the only one available onstandard cable, that will not cover some celebrity weight problem, or some infomercialinvolving the shallow and vacuous Kardashians sisters selling some more crap.

The announcer in that serious Corporate voice: We are now reporting on theCongress Interrogation of the CEOs of the Investment Banks.

Wait, now they are talking about the ex-head of Merrill Lynch.Wow, did they mess up.

I think his name is John Thain. Yes, that is it.I cant believe he has the guts to show his face on TV.This guy, Thain was billed as a genius, one of the highest paid CEOs at the time.

Another kid genius like Jeff Skilling just like Enron, burn baby burn.This show should be good for a few laughs.The camera follows a nervous looking bunch of CEOs, you know the highly paidgeniuses, that somehow will become magically stupid when asked questions, like whathappened to the money. Now the camera focuses in on one John Thain, and he ironicallylooks like Clark Kent, but speaks in high pitch squeaky voice,which doesnt match his

physical frame or the $10,000 Italian suit he is wearing.


18/19

Congressman Barti is now looking at Thain and shaking his head like mypissed off Mother, when I left a mess in the Kitchen. Why did you think you,

and your follow Executives deserve bonuses, when youlost 15 billion dollars

in the fourth quarter?

THAIN: Congressman Barti, virtually all of the losses were from legacy

positions that had already been there and the decline in the prices of those--

positions. Did we-- did we continue to trade? Yes.

Did we put on-- big risky positions that-- were

significant contributors to that $15 bill-- billion loss? No.

BARTI: So there is no truth to any speculation that there was a further risk

taken on, and you weren't upfront about it to Ken Lewis and that irritated

him?

THAIN: Well, I-- I can't comment specifically on what irritated him.

But-- the vast . majority of the losses in the fourth quarter was from positions

that had been there since I started.

BARTI: John, were-- so you were aware of these losses than in September

when you did the deal with Bank of America?

THAIN: Well, no, Congressman, the-- the-- in September the-- the positions

where there. And-- the results-- we-- we obviously don't report-- we don't

report results other than quarterly. But the market-- the market deteriorated


19/19

in both November and December.

BARTI: John, I wanna ask you more about the-- the-- environment that we're

in.

But I've gotta ask you-- first about the office.You spent more than $1 million

renovating your office; is this true?

THAIN:Well, first of all, it-- it is true.This was a year ago or actually a little

bit more than a year ago in a very differ-- different-- ec-- economic

environment and a very different outlook for Merrill and the financial

services industry. It was my

office. It was two conference rooms, and it was a reception area.But it is clear to me in today's world that it was a mistake.

I apologize for spending that money on those-- on those things. And I will

make it right. I will reimburse-- the company for all of those costs.

My god, what an affluent tree-house Thain built for himself.

Sadly, it came crashing down on the public's head, but left him

unscathed. He will even get to build another one.

Documents

THE AFFLUENT TREE-HOUSE: (Part I: The Rise and Fall of builders of the American empire)