For decades, Art Cashin, UBS’ director of floor operations at the New York Stock Exchange, would write a New Year’s poem to reflect back on the year’s events. With Cashin’s passing earlier this month, his sons, Arthur and Peter, sent this homage to their father:
Some Other Cashins’ Comments: An Homage Presentation December 30, 2024
by Arthur Cashin III and Peter Cashin
In 2024, Wall Street stopped in fear. No more annual poems without Arthur here?
My brother and I said, “Let’s give this a try,” but with one precondition, there would be no AI!
Genetics or environment, we share his same vice. So, we joined our feeble minds, while marinating some ice.
Paris hosted the Olympics and chose to begin, by having the opening float down the Seine.
A container ship took out the Francis Scott Key. The world wondered if Putin did the same to Navalny.
The ruler of Syria, al-Assad is now gone, but in Ukraine and Gaza, the wars still carry on.
‘Round most of the world, incumbents lost reelection. Here in the U.S., 45’s now 47.
Wall Street continued its historic bull run. And with the help of Wegovy, the world lost a ton.
Taylor Swift can go home. Eras came to an end. But only on the field did Travis’ knee bend.
Boeing’s labor strife paused the 737. They also left two astronauts between here and heaven.
Some finance greats are no longer among us. We lost Jim Simons and HD’s Bernie Marcus.
We lost the deep bass Hollywood counted upon. The voice of Mufasa and Vader is gone.
The choir of angels got a whole lot better now that Cissy and Whitney are singing together.
Arlo Guthrie’s old muse, she has a new haunt. Alice Brock is in heaven, at a new restaurant.
Toby Keith and Kristofferson climbed that heavenly stair. Now jammin’ with Buffett, must be 5 o’clock there.
Phil Donahue is up there, booking new guests. Wonder if Dr. Ruth will be on his stage next.
A remake of “Tootsie” seems not to be far. Dabney Coleman was joined by the great Teri Garr.
Whitey Herzog submitted his final all-star roster. With Rose, Mays, and Cepeda; not a single impostor.
Lou Carnesecca now coaches a team that’s the best, with players like Mutombo and Walton and West.
Zagallo and Beckenbauer, both Of World Cup fame, will rejoin greats like Pele for a quick pick-up game.
Remember that sound bite you’d hear without fail? We no longer have the voice who said: “You’ve got mail!”
A poet laureate left us, as they eventually would. We can’t overlook the great Charles Osgood.
And we would be remiss not to share why we’re sad. This exercise brought memories of our dear old dad.
To others, he was Arthur, Mr. Cashin, or Chief. But he was our father and we share now our grief.
You knew him as he wanted to be: Historian, philanthropist, soul of the NYSE.
If he joined you for a drink, you should have been flattered and talk markets or politics, or things that truly mattered.
From comments to speeches, writing was his art. But was he as funny as the late Bob Newhart?
An Xavier alum, a true Jesuit scholar. Of his alma mater, there was no one prouder. Were it not for Ray Charles or voters in Jersey, you never would have seen him on CNBC.
So as this year ends and you look to ’25, we offer two tips to help you survive.
Cherish those still here. Remember those you miss. From the Cashins to yours, all the best is our wish. Begorrah, menorah, Lanza, and Kwanzaa, May your New Year be filled with true abbondanza! And as the ice melted in each of our glasses, we knew if Dad read this he’d kick both our asses.
Rest in peace, Dad.
Art Cashin also traditionally led the annual singing of “Wait ’till the Sun Shines, Nellie” with current and former NYSE members on New Year’s Eve. On Tuesday, the sons will lead the singing at 1:45 p.m. ET and ring the bell to close out the year.
