Off to the market with Tía Cuca

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Hola, Tía Cuca.

It’s Lola,

I’ve been thinking a lot about the nation’s economy.

Sí, sí, things are bad. But, as you know, I just earned my MBA from the Thunderbird School of Global Management. I’m not kidding! It took me seven years to do it, and I almost drove my pobrecito viejo Alberto crazy, but I finally finished my degree.

And now that I have finished it, I have expert advice to give you.

You know me; I don’t like to offer advice unless asked. Or if the people I encounter are totally clueless and I know I can save them a lot of heartache — which, oddly, seems to happen a lot. A lot!

So here I go: The problem, Tía Cuca, is that you’re chancla business is out of step. Mira, you know I have a gift. I see trends before everybody else. I knew Brad and Jen were toast long before la sin verguenza Angelina was in the picture. I knew Clay Aiken had a thing for Perez Hilton even before they started Tweeting about it. And didn’t I predict this economic collapse?

Didn’t I tell you when “W” put Dick in charge of the U.S. energy policy we were going to be in deep caca?

I was right, qué no? Exxon’s made more money in the past eight years than Joan Rivers has spent on Botox. The truth is I still think she’s funny, but she’s starting to remind me of Chucky, ese killer puppet, with way too much mascara.

OK, take note, here’s my advice: lose the chancla factory, Tía, and take a long hard look at the stock market.

Toro! Toro!

Okay, since you don’t know the Wall Street lingo, let me explain: a bull market, hence my toro reference, means it’s time to buy. If it’s a “bear (oso) market” then it’s time to take your money and run.

So, I repeat! Toro! Toro!

Fíjate, U-Haul is less than one dollar a share. General Motors stock cost less than a pack of Chiclets on the International Bridge in Nogales. And Chrysler, last I checked, soon to be Fiat, ‘pues ni se diga!’

It’s all very simple, Tía. The trick is to buy low and sell high. More of us need to start getting into the stock market. Remember how Nana kept her money stashed under the mattress? When she died we found a couple of thousand dollars under there. Think of the money she could have made if she played the stock market?

“But why, Lola,” you may ask, “are you bullish on the stock market when the economy is still so screwed up?”

Tía Cuca, such language. I told you: I have a gift.

Here at the signs of the recovery. 1) The banks paid back $67 billion in rescue loans. 2) Walmart is hiring 1,300 people in the Valley this summer. 3) My Tío Gilberto (your third cousin by marriage who you almost went on a date with at that family reunion at Rocky Point) is moving back to Chandler from Coahuila.

Remember how he moved to his pueblito six months before ese loco hombre on Mad Money told us we were in a recession? Tío Gilberto is a living, breathing economic barometer. Did you know he has an associate’s degree in accounting? Too bad he’s your cousin; he would have made you a good husband.

So, Tía Cuca, take my advice. Lose the chanclas and invest in the stock market. Tell your comadres y compadres, too.

But when you strike it rich, don’t ever stop making your menudo at Christmas. It’s the best. That gives me an idea – Tía Cuca’s Menudo. I can do a business plan for that.

Have to run. Call me. I have a list of stocks for you to buy.

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