Word: greenbergs
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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Then there's Wall Street. Comcast stock, priced not long ago at $18.35, is trading around 10-year lows. Until recently, some shareholders like Glenn Greenberg, whose Chieftain Capital Management owns 1.5% of the stock, had loudly argued that the company was underperforming. Their major concerns: Comcast was paying too much for acquisitions. Return on assets was way too low. And Brian Roberts wasn't hard-nosed enough...
...Manchester he took a new tack. "The continuing market turbulence shows why we need a new settlement for our times," he said, announcing proposals to "rebuild the world financial system." That's a massive ambition for a man struggling to control his own party, but the U.S. pollster Stan Greenberg, in Manchester on a brief break from advising Barack Obama's campaign, believes it offers Brown's best hope for survival. "If there's going to be a comeback, it will be through managing the current economic crisis," says Greenberg. Pressed to name leaders who have rebounded from such...
...Greenberg took her to an emergency room, and with inexorable swiftness Sally was ingested by the medical world, pronounced psychotic and committed to a locked ward. Greenberg joined the ranks of huddled pilgrims who lined up every day for visiting hours. (One morning he took artichokes to Sally. "Art makes you choke, Father," she said. "You should give it up. It's a false god who causes you nothing but pain.") As Sally's life fell apart from the inside out, Greenberg's began collapsing from the outside in. He fought with his wife, Sally's stepmother. He drank...
...terrible irony of Hurry Down Sunshine is that you can hear in Greenberg's beautiful figurative language the not-so-distant echo of Sally's manic speech. They're both full of surprise metaphorical connections ("her eyes turn to polished coal") and abrupt right-angle turns. His literary talent is not unrelated to her curse: the startling associative imagery that gives his writing its power is like a domesticated version of the madness that nearly carried away his daughter's life...
...Greenberg's daughter lost her mind. Elizabeth McCracken's son never had time to find his. He died in her womb when she was nine months pregnant. There can be few grimmer topics for a book than a stillborn baby, but I'll say this for McCracken's memoir, the unwieldily titled An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination (Little, Brown; 192 pages): it's the funniest book about a dead baby that you will ever read...