My dear Mr. Coachc:
I have been informed by next door neighbor from “Wells” and also by another neighbor from “Bear” that you have responded (#1993) to my post (#1990), which I addressed to you. There is obviously a huge misunderstanding here. Please let me explain.
I never went to college. I graduated a high school in Newton, MA and went to work as a free-lance writer. I started out working for various companies which imported consumer electronics products that were manufactured in Japan and China. I wrote the instructions for setting up the product and for easily and exactly understanding how to use it and trouble-shoot it, should there be a problem. This is where I developed my clarity, my ability to make helpful drawings (with circled capital letters that highlight the name and function of each of the product’s parts) and my economy with words. College was never in my picture. (That was a pun, coach.)
So when you say, “ I am not sure who you think you are impressing with your long winded over the top posts but be assured it is not me…I am glad you took your college education and your 5,000 page thesaurus and put them to good use by writing your posts about falcons and talons.”, I think you now see how wrong you are. I accept your apology. Oh, and one other correction. My posts are not over top, they are from the top. They emanate from a falcon’s eye view of the valley below and from high in the hills, where it is safe, conservative, sensible, honest and (pardon the pun here, coach) above all, well-intended.
After doing free-lance for a few years, I started having difficulties with life. To make a long story short, I checked into what is known as “an institution of mental and psychological restoration and reclamation”. This was located in Western Massachusetts. It is near North Hampton, the Berkshires and places like that. (We’ll discuss North Hampton some day, but not here.) It was here that I met my falcon. I used to sit alone, in a lovely meadow, and eat my lunch and contemplate life and my future. A large bird began visiting me in this meadow and I started feeding it little bits of my lunch each day. Over time we became very devoted to each other, I became a master falconer and the rest is history.
I am sure you are wondering how all of this relates to CryoPort and my former, irresponsible and senseless ownership of its stock. The answer is very simple and illustrates how strange life is.
At “the institute”, (or “the toot”, as we sometimes called it) there were many very very sad people. They used to sit by the windows, stare blankly outside at the peaceful surroundings, and cry. They would sometimes cry all day. They were part of a group of hopelessly ill people who are probably still there today. We had people who were severely depressed, bipolar, schizophrenic, hallucinogenic and……….cryogenic. These are the ones I just told you about.
Having been around these people for a few years, I thought I knew something about cryogenic personalities. So, when a guy told me about a company called Cryo Port, I thought I was investing in a company that worked with the crogenics out there, through a web port. I thought modern technology could help these people via the internet. Little did I know about what I really invested in. I must be crazy.
By now I am sure you get my point about how stupid I was to invest in CryoPort. I put all this money into it, researched and read about what I had really invested in, followed it for close to three years, had zero to show for it. Then I read your posts about your banker, heading for the hills, etc… The rest is history.
I hope this clears up any misunderstandings between us.
AI
