Sign o' the (market) times

I know today if I'm going to jest about the economy, it should be earlier than later. A potentially tanking market day is in process.

(Although. An hour ago I overheard someone comment that, based on how the market could have reacted to last night's Senate rejection of the auto industry bailout bill: "I thought we were going to open down 5 or 6 percent. It could be a lot worse.")

Meanwhile, one of our company head honchos e-mailed an invite about the holiday party next week. To no surprise, the annual bash---last year at Icarus with free drinks and a raw bar the size of the Charles River Basin---is scaled back to in-house employees-only. Wine and beer is provided. Food is potluck. The theme: White Elephant Gift Exchange.

A friend, Eric, was employed at a large Wall Street firm in a previous career. He knows finance houses. He knows financiers and how they like to party. I forwarded him my boss' invite, somehow sobered by the swapping of used gifts instead of receiving expensive free ones from management.

E: That has to be one of the signs of the apocalypse.

K: Yes. Did you notice it is also a potluck? Is there a way to go one step beyond the apocalypse?

E: I did. Weird.

One of the things I admire most about my company is its belief in morale. And when the market is down and profits are down, they could have cut out a social gathering altogether and did not.

Although I will gladly take portfolio manager gift ideas. Scary.