I think I recall going [alone] to New York City for the first time when I was about 12 years old. That's right, I went alone, my mother dropped me off at the San Francisco Airport and I went over to the TWA terminal. I had a flight to NYC-Kennedy. There were few passengers on the flight, maybe it was 30% full. It was a big jet, it might have even been a Boeing 747. In fact, I think it was a 747. Maybe I was 13 years old. This was probably 1971.

I wasn't going to be alone, I was going to visit my grandfather. He was from Manhattan, but he had moved his family to Yonkers in the late 1950s, I think I recall. He built a home in Yonkers, 50 Priscilla Avenue. I hardly saw my grandfather, but we were pretty close. I would sit near him on the porch out in the front of the house and we would talk about the world. He liked my mother a lot, and he liked me a lot. He was a wealthy guy, he owned some real estate in Manhattan, across the street from the Rockefeller Plaza, on 5th Avenue.

This is my father's father. My grandfather did not talk much, as he had been severely injured in an auto accident. He had fallen asleep while driving back to Yonkers. At about 3am, in the morning. He owned a restaurant. But he was a funny guy, we joked around a little; he was also pretty serious, an interesting mixture of super serious and super funny.

The airline stewardesses on the TWA flight were pretty attractive, though I think I recall they were not that young. In their 30s. They were very friendly to me, and I kind of flirted with them, just a little. They thought it was pretty cool that I was alone. Those were great days in the United States, everyone was European American, and of course there were the Bantu, the Americans who were descendants of slaves. There were not that many people in the airports. I think it was a direct flight.

I was a pretty precocious teenager. I used to read all the newspapers, and I hated school because everyone was so dumb and unaware of what was going on around them. I am recounting this story because I want to emphasize that I was fortunate to get on the TWA 747 and fly to NYC on my own. I was going to spend a month or 2 with my grandfather.

It's a good story because the minute I landed my uncle or aunt picked me up, or maybe I took a taxi. I don't remember. It's pretty far from Kennedy Airport to Yonkers, but in those days it did not take long because there was hardly any traffic. There were some cars, but not a huge number. There were no really crazy traffic jams.

My cousin Donna offered to go to Manhattan with me. She would take me around. She was about my age, she was pretty attractive, with a really female figure. You know what I mean. Donna died of a medical error in 2014. We were good friends, we would be walking around the Manhattan streets and when we went by construction sites – a lot of buildings were undergoing reconstruction and there was scaffolding – the workers, the men, would whistle and yell, “hey you're hot!” “What a babe!”

They assumed that I was her boyfriend and they would say to me things like, “great job kid, nice work.” Donna had fairly large mammary glands. Donna and I used to laugh a lot, she was a great lady. When I heard she died, I called up her sister and asked what had happened. After her sister, my cousin, described what happened, I said that's medical error. Horrible. My grandfather's brother was not as smart as my grandfather, and his children were just ordinary people, very nice people, very innocent and good people.

Anyway, Donna and I went down to Lower Manhattan, to Wall Street. I think I recall we may have even taken a tour of the New York Stock Exchange. I have very vague memories of all of this, but I do remember quite well seeing Wall Street for the first time. Walking down the street.

I said to myself, this is very impressive, this is awesome, this is amazing! Finance. Money. I had been to New York City before, with my parents. But this time I was alone, with Donna. I should have kept in touch with Donna. She got married and had some children. Really a tragedy she died of a medical error.

My grandfather was a serious investor in Wall Street, as is my father. He owned millions of dollars of securities. He banked with Chase Bank, I remember his checks. It was assumed that I might get a job on Wall Street, after my “university days” – but I did not tell anyone that I had no intention of doing that.

Wall Street is fascinating, of course. The article I am writing today is about human nature, the distribution of intelligence. It turns out there is nothing much you can do to “equalize” income distribution. Donna died of medical error because she was not informed well enough about her situation and about what was going on. Had she called me up when she was hospitalized I would have tried to brief her on what was going on. But she did not call me and so she is dead. You got to mitigate risks, and you do that by being well informed.

Vilfredo Pareto was a lot like me. An Italian, from the noble class. I have published down below his Wikipedia page. He discovered as a young man that income and wealth was distributed in a very peculiar way in Northern Italy. Typically what happens is that 80% of the wealth, or some 80% of the real estate for example, is owned by 20% of the population. Nothing much can be done to change this distribution. No matter what you try to do to “equalize it” you will always find it reverting back to 80/20. Of course, this is the principal reason the Ashkenazi Jewish ideology of communism is so dysfunctional and flawed. It will not work.

Assuming that IQ [intelligence quotient] is the basis for this distribution, we will not be able to do much about it. Yes, it's frustrating, and it is even maddening, but it is a reality that will never be changed. Unless we can enhance the intelligence of the 80%. And can we?

My friend John Bogle did make his contribution to the effort to increase the intelligence of the 80%. John was the founder of Vanguard Investments. But there is a great and very funny story of the out of town guy visiting Wall Street and Lower Manhattan. He saw all the yachts, and then asked innocently, “where are the customers' yachts?”

The answer is: there are none.

When my son and I were rebuilding our home in Bodega Bay we had a talk about insulation [which we have not yet installed, by the way]. Heavy insulation must go in the interior of the roof, and much less on the walls. And why is this? Some 80% of the heat will rise and escape through the roof and some of 20% of your warmth [or heat] will go out the walls or windows. If you have a lot of windows then more heat will radiate out of the walls, so it is necessary to have insulated windows. Double-paned with argon gas inside the 2 panes of glass.

I think I recall that in the early 2000s I had figured you could apply the Pareto Principle to the financial markets. I probably realized this earlier than that, but I do not remember when. Probably when I was in my 30s. Pareto was accused of being an “elitist” but this is nonsense. He was a scientist and engineer. I was very busy in the early 2000s, with WAM. But by July 2009 I got around to publishing an article explicating the 80/20 rule as applied to the financial markets. Scrupulous attention to the Pareto Principle will make you realize how Warren Buffett got so insanely wealthy. Of course, he likes businesses that sell [and market] sugar to children and youngsters. And he likes to be heavily invested in the insurance business.

80% of investors buy into the bull market in the last 20% of the bull market. That's in the bull market. In the bear market what happens is investors will sell in the last 20% of the bear market.

It's amazing that I did not find any evidence that anyone applied Pareto's 80/20 Rule to the financial markets – before I did. There was nothing on the net about it. Absolutely nothing, which pretty much amazed me and indeed shocked me. And why is that? Wall Street is a lucrative business. I think you will like my article. I miss Donna, and I also have fond memories of talking to my friend John Bogle. He was a brave man. And Donna was brave, too.