This week the auto industry is loaded with fanfare. They’ve rolled out the red carpets in New York to tout their new models and global prowess. The media hubs are reporting the uptick in auto sales with glee. The economy, here it comes baby! While in New York GM is showing big banks, “how you handle a bailout.” Their words, not mine.
So here I am, about two weeks into initiating a holding in F. I hopped on this leaky yacht and left port only to slosh around in the choppy waters of $12-13 dollars. I see the trumpeting from the media and the dog and pony show not as a godly tail wind for asset appreciation but more like ten asthma patients taking turns blowing through a curly straw. “Fords” sails are limper than Clay Aiken’s wrists.
Volume and volatility ticked up in the name yesterday, and the stock is entering the proverbial fuck or walk stage. Break twelve or break thirteen, that is the question:
