To All CYRX Shareholders: Report on Friday Night’s Party
Friday night’s party was, quite literally, fantastic. It was held in an incredible house that is owned by one of the very smart and very honest bank presidents who lives up here with his wife and family. The house is all art and glass, with incredible views of Eden Valley and the surrounding mountains. The lighting, the furniture, the art, the area rugs, even the toilet in the powder room are all done with a refined, sophisticated yet under-stated, hand. (I was in the house once before and I remember wondering what the decorator’s fees were to put something like this together.)
Picture this: Spiro and I arrive at the house and ring the door bell. The banker’s wife opens the door and we are met with a scene out of a cheap movie. There are rooms full of people yelling greetings to me and Spiro. Lights are flashing and music is blasting through a sound system that would humble the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood or any I-Max Theatre. A group of waiters are walking around serving everybody anything they want: Some with treys of Hors D’Oeuvres, others with wines and champagnes and one other with a selection of mixed drinks: Tom Collins, Scottch and sota in a shot glass (a “mini-sota”) and a huge selection of Vodkas mixed with various flavors of berry juices.
Huge banners are hanging from the entry hall ceiling that read
WELCOME BACK MOTHERFALCONER
and
WELCOME TO OUR HERO SPIRO AND HIS MF‘R
Combine all of this with crepe paper streamers and horns and whistles and you have a group of happy bankers, investment strategists, financial planners and money handlers that live in the hills and know how to party.
They were all happy to see us because we are sort of a curiosity item to these people and because a number of them saw me and Spiro on a news piece that was carried by the local CBS News station here. The piece dealt with us and the work that we did with the FAA, the NTSB and the Smithsonian Institute after the Hudson River plane crash.
I was touched and excited but Spiro was confused, scared, disoriented and downright ornery. I immediately felt his talons digging into my leather arm glove and, before I knew it, he was up in the air, heading for the huge skylight that was built into the 40 foot ceiling of the entryway. (You can imagine our hosts: The walls of the entry are covered with fabulous contemporary oil paintings. In their house they now have a fearless predator, the world’s fastest bird with speeds up to 230km per hour, flying out of control. With one quick flick of a talon he can tear a $250,000 hole through of one of their paintings.) Spiro had one thing on his mind: Get the hell out of here, get back outside and head for the hills. I know the feeling.
I immediately told everybody to be quiet because, if the falcon (Spiro) cannot hear the falconer (or MotherFalconer, as they like to call me), then we are all in trouble. Things could, quite literally, fall apart and some spectacular wall-mounted sculptures would not hold if the equivalent of a guided missile were to strike them. Pure fear and love of things expensive turned the crowd into a group of cowering shadows. Quiet prevailed. I whistled and called Spiro down from the ceiling fixtures and he quietly floated back to my arm. I stroked his head and feathers, talked to him in a soft tone, gave him a few chunks of rib-eye and all was again peaceful on Banker Hill.
Spiro is incredibly smart, observant and quasi-philosophical in his own way. I like to think of him as something that is ethereal and somewhat spiritual. (This is why I named him Spiritus Mundi.) But, let’s not forget that Spiro is at the top of his food chain and parties and revelry are not the first thing on his mind. Spiro is into observation, contemplation, calculation and constructive action---just like the bankers and investment managers on Banker Hill. This is probably why they all like him and why some of the wives got together and made a great big banner for Spiro that read
WELCOME BACK TO THE HOOD
This was a cute pun on a new leather hood that they bought for Spiro’s head. We went into the “great room”, off the entry, and quietly put it on him and a few of the guests took his picture (without flash) with me, him and some of their friends.
The rest of the evening was about as lovely as anything can be. You name it: food, drinks, wines, desserts and a selection of after-dinner Port wines. (More on the Port wines and the comments about ‘Port later.) I couldn’t help but think to myself: “What is a little guy like me doing here, hanging around with all of these big shot bankers? This is amazing. Here I am-- the new guy on Banker Hill, walking around with Spiro on my arm and rubbing elbows with some of “the smartest guys in the room”. Isn’t life interesting? I have traveled from a mental health institute in Western Mass. to the hills above Eden Valley. All of this due to a crazy misunderstanding of what CryoPort does for a living and from following some sound advice from a guy named “coach”. Almost enough to make you believe in god…………….
Near the end of the evening, after many of the guests had left for their respective villas, I got a nod from a guy, directing me to go outside for a quiet chat. This particular banker is part of a group of five very smart and very experienced investors who specialize in micro cap companies. I think I mentioned, in a previous post, that there was a particular group of five guys who loved to talk and analyze stocks and who loved their drinks. This banker was one of the guys.
Outside we went and I found myself standing under a type of tarpaulin that covered a very elegant spa-type structure that was obviously intended for summer parties. He told me we could stand under the “tarp”, as he called it, and he assured me that we would be well-protected from what he referred to as “the elements”. So here I am, with Spiro on my left arm observing this whole scene, talking with five smart bankers while standing under a “tarp”. Life is interesting.
Guess what they wanted to talk to me about. CryoPort. They wanted to give me advice because they like me and because I introduced them to the stock when I first met them and told them my story of why I had moved to Banker Hill. One of the older guys from “Solly” (Solomon Brothers) started the meeting with: “Son, do you know what you sold here? Do you understand what this company is going to be? According to our research and according to our contacts in this industry, ‘Port is………” He went on and on with numbers, statistics, market share, drug and vaccine testing in India, FedEx and a host of facts and figures that only the best and the brightest could have dug up. One of his favorite phrases, with reference to ’Port, as they now call it, was “disruptive technology”. He must have said it three times while waxing eloquent on the potential of CryoPort. (I was standing there thinking of the frightening events that had happened earlier when we arrived and Spiro freaked. This is what I call “disruptive technology”.)
To make a short’s story long (that one was for you coach), he and the other guys insisted that I start buying CryoPort today at the open. Their sincere advice to me was very simple: “Regain your former position. Get back into this stock now and at any price down here. Don’t worry about a penny here or a penny there--- it’s peanuts over the big picture. This thing is about to explode.”
I think they know something. I suspect that their extensive research and contacts in the cold-shipping and biologics industries has led them to strongly believe that this could be “a real deal” as one of them put it. Note that throughout the discussion, Spiro didn’t budge. This tells me that a revelation is surely at hand.
Meanwhile, while talking to the guys, it had started to snow on Banker Hill. It was a light, feathery type of snow that glistened in the moonlight as it floated down to earth. I hadn’t noticed it until I walked out from under the protective tarp to head for home. “Nice guys, these bankers”, I thought to myself. “Very nice of them to help me and to treat me so well.”
Spiro was calm and borderline asleep as we walked to my house. We stopped and looked down at the valley below. There was the RMS CryoPort stuck in the frozen river. There was the glistening snow that was accumulating even further as we enjoyed the peaceful scene. I returned to my lovely little place on the Hill, turned on my computer and put in a series of buy orders for Monday morning.
I am now back in. I am now again a CryoPort shareholder. I am now in a deal with “the smartest guys in the room”. Spiro is outside riding the float, and I am in my office placing even more buy orders for CryoPort.
Peace at last………
