“Just an old fashioned.”
“Sure. Do you care what bourbon?”
He look quizzically at the waifish early-twentysomething doing her best impression of a bartender. This was, apparently, the unlikeliest of old fashioned drinkers: A man who doesn’t know the ingredients of an old fashioned.
“Buffalo Trace is ok?” she prodded. “No, I want an old fashioned,” he reiterated. Recognizing the futility of the exchange, and not wanting to embarrass this hapless Minnesotan, she nodded and went about making his drink.
He turned to me, considered my double espresso and wondered, in a gratingly nasal modulation, “That won’t keep you up?” I don’t like a man who deploys contrived conversation starters with other men, and a man who doesn’t know his brown liquor drinks is anyway no friend of mine already. “I hope so,” I said, in the most standoffish meter I could muster.
Unbothered by my curt rejoinder, he pressed on. “You from here?” “Here where? Here, here? No.” She put a drink in front of him and a menu. I hoped, between the two, he’d shut up. Alas. “South Carolina, I mean. You from South Carolina?” I clearly wasn’t going to deter this sap, who cared so little for his shoulders that he draped them in an Izod half-zip and despised his own legs enough to wrap them in Dockers. This was a traveling salesman if I’d ever seen one.
Irritable, I told him the eccentric truth. “This place — this town –,” I tapped the tip of my index finger three times in succession on the bartop, harder each time, “used to be sh-t.” I knocked back the rest of my espresso, turned towards him and continued. “It’s still sh-t, but three — maybe four — years ago, they put $21 million into it. I wanted to see how far $21 million got them.”
“So you’re travel–” I cut him off. “They have a Balenciaga in Charlotte now. Charlotte’s right up the street. Couple of hours that way.” I pointed in a direction I imagined was northwest. “I went to Balenciaga earlier today. This is where I ended up later tonight.”
That explanation raised any number of new questions and answered exactly none of his existing ones. That was on purpose. And that should’ve been the end of it. I ordered a desert — fried pineapple handpie with what the menu called vanilla ice cream but which, by the time it reached me, was an accidental crème anglaise, having presumably languished under a heat lamp in the kitchen.
I’d explained the difference between he and I, just not in so many words. He needed all the words, apparently, and as insufferable as I can be, I’m not inclined to flatly deny someone a conversation if they’re bound and determined. So, I entertained him. He was indeed a traveling salesman. Specifically, he sells solar panels, and it wasn’t long before he made his political views clear. “There’s so much poverty here,” he said. “I’ve been here since Wednesday and some of these houses — how do they live like this?”
By “they,” he meant Black people. He was talking, loudly and unapologetically, about Black people, in a town that’s predominately Black and in a restaurant where most of the people sitting within earshot were likewise Black. He was, in a word, racist, and quite oblivious to the imminent peril he was placing himself in by deriding the local population after dark, downtown, a quarter mile walk (give or take) from his hotel. I let him go on, though. And on he went.
45 minutes, three old fashioneds, one brown ale and what looked like a dangerously undercooked burger later, solar salesman had regaled me and, without realizing it, the entire bar, with tales of criminal migrants (“It’s not just Mexicans anymore, the Chinese are coming in from the south by the thousands”), Minneapolis transformed (“They let the Blacks burn it, and now all the businesses have left”), Ibogaine as a cure for opioid addiction (he encouraged me to review Joe Rogan’s recent interview with Rick Perry) and Wuhan where, according to him, the CCP conspired with globalist anti-Trump elements to intentionally loose a biological weapon on humanity, to what end he couldn’t, or didn’t, say.
Eventually, he got around to asking me what I do, and I gave him what’s become my standard line over the years: “I write about interest rate derivatives.” That’s meant to discourage people from inquiring further, and it usually works, but not with him. “So where do you think they’re going?” “Where is who going?” “Interest rates.” “Do you mean Fed funds or–” “Mortgage rates,” he clarified. Happy to be off the Trump train (or so I mistakenly thought), I indulged him. “A lot depends on the trajectory of benchmark Treasury yields — the cost we — the US government — pay to borrow for 10 years, and that’ll depend on what view the market takes on the debt, the deficit and so on.”
His bourbon-glazed eyes lit up a little, and he put his hand on my shoulder, a dreadful violation which I uncharacterstically let slide. “Don’t you think –” a little chunk of unswallowed burger jumped out as he spoke, missing my knee by mere centimeters “– that the DOGE can be a real game-changer?” “How do you mean?” “We gotta do somethin’ different, otherwise nothin’s gonna change,” he slurred, trafficking in tautologies. “The government’s become this monsser — monster — and if Musk can tackle it…”
I knew where he was going, or trying to go, and at that point, he was making a bit of a scene. I’d had well enough, so I cut straight to the point: “Giving Elon Musk access to sensitive US government databases is a terrible idea,” I told him. “We’re witnessing the birth of a Russia-style oligarchy in America.”
He went silent. What I couldn’t accomplish by juxtaposing the circumstances which placed us at the same bartop in semi-rural South Carolina on Friday night (touristic leisure shopping for me and work travel for him), I achieved simply by shooting down as offensive the notion that the best way to repair America’s finances and thereby to restore the bond market’s confidence in the “full faith and credit” of the US government, is to sit idly by while the world’s richest man perpetrates an egregious breach of the public trust under the banner of cost-cutting.
Without another word on the subject, he stood up and asked for his check. Tipsy and suddenly uncomfortable, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eying the room nervously. “You have a good night,” he virtually shouted at me, as he made for the exit. Once he was gone, the bartender emitted a giggle she’d clearly been suppressing for quite a while. “I’m not sad to see him go,” she pronounced. “I don’t know how much of that conversation you understood, but–” I trailed off. “Enough,” she said. “What’d he tip you?” She looked at the check and smirked: “$4 on $50.”
Late Friday, as I was getting dressed for dinner — John Elliott black denim jacket, a simple white Alexander McQueen tee, dark blue jeans and a white Louis belt, if you’re curious — a US District judge was in the process of halting access to Treasury systems for Musk and DOGE, who were ordered to “immediately destroy any and all copies of material downloaded from the Treasury Department’s records and systems” since January 20.
Over the last several days, at least two Wall Street strategists, both of whom are reasonably well-known and widely-read as sell-side strategists go, expounded a view on US Treasurys not dissimilar from the thesis I heard Friday evening from a traveling salesman: That the efforts of Musk and DOGE may be a key, or even the key, catalyst for bonds in 2025. That of all the reasons to buy Treasurys coming off a nearly unprecedented third annual loss in four, the best may be Elon Musk’s legally questionable, appallingly prying, extra-Constitutional bid to implement Project 2025 through the back door, absconding with even more of our personal data (yours and mine) than he already owns through his private enterprises.
The White House’s spin goes as follows:
Instead of working to become a party that focuses on the will of the people, [Democrats] are hell-bent on keeping their heads in the sand and gaslighting on the widely supported mission of DOGE. Slashing waste, fraud and abuse, and becoming better stewards of the American taxpayer’s hard-earned dollars might be a crime to Democrats, but it’s not a crime in a court of law.
By contrast, here’s what Letitia James had to say:
As the richest man in the world, Elon Musk is not used to being told ‘no,’ but in our country, no one is above the law. The President does not have the power to give away our private information to anyone he chooses, and he cannot cut federal payments approved by Congress.
Who you gonna believe?
Perhaps he wanted his Old Fashion Wisconsin style, with brandy. Being from Minnesota and all.
Fun weekend reading. Love it. Thank you! I had to look up what Balenciaga because that brand is way out of my league (which is Levi 514s sporting “stylish” holes/fading from wallet and cellphone). I was worried you fell off the wagon when I saw the image and title for the article. Glad that wasn’t the case.
Nothing wrong with Levi’s. I keep a shelf full of them. I do the 511s myself, and now that we’re on the subject, let me put every male reader here up on something: You don’t have to spend your life savings to be the best dressed guy in the room, and you damn sure don’t need a suit.
For example, this, right here, is my hands down, favorite combination in my entire closet, and it features Levi’s: https://heisenbergreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/OnlyFitYouNeed-scaled.jpg
That whole look, top to bottom — the hoodie, the belt, the shoes and the Levi’s — can be yours for $1,590 all in. You might say “That’s still a lot of money for one outfit,” and you’d be right, but it’s not just one outfit. Every element in there can be swapped out and inserted into other fits.
If you wear the items shown in that linked picture with a fresh buzz cut and the perfect 5 o’clock shadow, you’ll have very good odds of looking better than any man in damn near any room. I’ll take that fit over any suit on planet Earth, I don’t care how expensive it is.
Caveat: If you’re over 55, you may want to swap out the Jordans for something a little more conservative in the footwear department, and also swap out the hoodie for just a Saint Laurent sweater (i.e., without the hood).
No charge for the fashion advice. Your results may vary.
For the love of God, please start a Culture section of the site. Movies, books, fashion, autos, and perhaps even sports. The more of your thoughts the better. I understand that there is limited time in the day. Maybe a Sunday only Culture post. Just some positive thoughts and encouragement. As always, thanks.
I sure hope my Temu Saint Laurent sweater knockoff isn’t held up because of tariffs and this de mininis stuff.
Well you certainly can’t believe your lying eyes anymore.
Giving the keys to the castle to two megalomaniacs expecting them to respect the confines of the law is delusional. The gloves are off. The last guardrail in democracy is the respect of and the rule of law. Trump clearly has no respect for the law let alone apparently knowledge of the laws of the land.
The Founding Fathers knew this was possible and thought they placed enough traps in place to prevent such an occurrence. But they assumed that rational people would be the decision makers. Clearly an erroneous assumption. Both houses of Congress and the Supreme Court have been captured by deceitful and frankly stupid people. It is sickening to behold.
What the founding fathers gave us is the CHANCE at preventing such an occurrence. Closing the traps was always to be the will of the people. Our leaders, elected politicians, are expected by us to do the heavy lifting for us and close the traps. However the architects of this soft coup have anticipated how to control these elected officials. They however count on the acquiescence of the populace including the privileged class who are content seeing this happen to others. Others today, tomorrow you will be the others.
As a native Minnesotan who has many relatives who believe Minneapolis is an urban hellscape where you’ll be lucky to not get stabbed, I’m embarrassed that one of the loonies escaped and subjected you to that.
Also, notice how once again the White House tries to turn around and accuse others of exactly what they are doing: gaslighting. Who was it that disavowed knowledge of Project 2025? Sure seems like that’s the game plan to me. I’m guessing they think firing all these inspector generals and disbanding congressionally funded agencies is lawful because anything is lawful as long as Trump wields the power of the pardon.
H we need a fashion section.
Re: The white Louis belt, was that with a gold buckle—did you pass up the large gold buckle in shape of X? As to who to believe, I go with Musk. Tisch James is going to lose most of her half billion dollar case against Trump. Musk’s team is still on the field.
No, it came it with a light silver tone buckle and the white side is actually the back side. Most Louis belts are reversible and the buckles are generally interchangeable. The front side of the white one I have is brown “cowmooflage.” I swapped out the silver buckle for a darker tone silver that reflects anthracite grey: https://heisenbergreport.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/IMG-4889-scaled.jpg
That one you can’t try at home. They still list it online, but you can’t order it. It’s sold out. And mine’s not for sale.
About the judges blocking various DOGE actions: Anyone taking bets on Trump expanding/packing the courts if the supremes somehow manage to grow spines?
That will take time. First congress to act on amending rules, then appointments to be confirmed. The alternative would be to trash the rules, the constitution and attempt a presidential appointment without senate confirmation.
Won’t happen for now. Still enough traditionalists around. I do wonder where the thanks are to Mr. Manchin and Ms. Sinema for saving the filibuster. Notice that there has been zero discussion of abandoning it from Leader Thune? Do all the Democrats who pleaded for its termination still feel that way? Imagine what a situation we’d have on our hands if Mr. Schumer were successful in terminating the filibuster.
Democrats complaining about Manchin was one of the dumbest takes they’ve had. He was a democrat in a deep red state where they otherwise had zero shot to ever keep a seat. While I wish Manchin had been willing to be bolder, I understand why he wasn’t and it was silly of democrats to hope for much of anything beyond what they did get from him.
Sinema was an opportunist though and I have no love lost there. She’ll probably be next in line for Trump’s cabinet when Tulsi and RFJ Jr. run out of steam. I’m afraid Fetterman is headed down that same path.
You do realize (I hope) that with your fashion comments you are parodying American Psycho (the book, not necessarily the movie).
I come for the analysis but I stay for the fashion tips. And Chappelle references.
In the end, laws can’t speak for themselves or enforce themselves any more than other imaginary constructs. If Trump is more popular than your judiciary, your legislative branch, and your administrative stare, and willing to not be bound by them, then who knows what he can or can’t do? Probably not even himself. History will tell. And even then, it will tell what became the truth for those who write it.
P.s. speaking of history…
We have possibly a dictator (time will tell?) in the only superpower in the world, a globe about to burn up, plastics accumulating in everything living, and artificial general intelligence on the horizon. And all this in the era of post-truth; American news is so divergent depending on the partisan lean of the news organization that it’s hard to say what is even true.
Sure wish there were an alternative to Mag 7, but oh well. Of course, virtual money might not matter in the future at all, or it might be the only thing that matters. What a time to be alive! In school I was taught that history might have ended (Fukuyama’s theory). That one didn’t age well.
It’s great to have the Heisenberg report. This is some of the news from America I trust.
However there is a lot to be hopeful for.
USA has now 50 GW annual solar panel production capacity. Equivalent to 50 third generation nuclear plants per year.
Doped sponges are available to separate microplastics, phosphates and copper from waste water. Not sure if we can do this on a river scale or not.
My EV costs me 1/3 the cost of gasoline. A 65% cash discount on fuel speaks more loudly than any politician.
We have each other. Which is stronger than the entire political apparatus in D.C.
Three old fashionds, a brown ale and a burger for $50?? You are in RURAL SC, H!
Can’t get that here, especially with Buffalo Trace.
Yep. I was hoping someone would notice that. It was wild how low the cost of living apparently is there. On Saturday morning I went to a gourmet gelato shop and it was the same thing. I ordered a large thinking… well, have you ever ordered gourmet gelato? If anyone remembers the farm-to-table restaurant I profiled in the January 2024 Monthly Letter (“The Loners”), one tiny “scoop” of their house-made gelato is $9, and you get barely more than a tablespoon. I paid $11 at that place in South Carolina, but they handed me a 1990s-style, Baskin-Robbins sized, mall serving. It was a straight up, literal large. There were no tables or chairs in there, and I couldn’t take it in the car because it would’ve melted all over the place by the time I finished it, so I went outside and sat on the curb (an actual street curb) and ate that whole damn cup, which was probably — God, I don’t know — a pint, probably.
I just hope that Friday night, you went to dinner somewhere that had outstanding food and you went with an enjoyable dinner companion. 🙂
That was Friday night, unfortunately. Last night was driving and, eventually, Cheerios and banana when I finally made it back.
As I feared. It is hard for me not to remain hopeful, however. 🙂
I didn’t think it was possible to be a solar panel salesman AND vote for KAOS! Who knew?
Kinda like being a fish and being outraged by the Clean Water Act.
Yes, that’s what I thought too.