CEO, Parisian Family Office. Began Wall Street in '82. Founded investment firm, Native American Advisors, '95. White Earth Chippewa. Raised on reservations. Conservative. NYSE/FINRA arbitrator. Drexel Burnham alum. Pureblood, clot-shot free. In a world elevated on a tech-driven dopamine binge, he trades from GHOST RANCH on the Yellowstone River in MT, TN farm, PAMELOT or CASA TULE', the family winter camp in Los Cabos, Mexico. Always been, will always be, an optimist.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Life
On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone is zero. This big bull met his match over the last couple of years and this is how I found him last week. Walking up a steep incline which really doesn't reflect in the picture he looked much smaller when I first glanced at the horns. I found one of his "ivory" teeth and the carcass bones hadn't been scattered widely which is the case when bigger predators are munching on an animal. I wonder if it were a lion kill, old age, an arrow, a hunters bullet or a pack of coyotes that put him down. He was a majestic animal in his day and that bone still reflects the power and grace of bull elk.
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