IN THE wake of the 1989
I made a point of honoring Dad’s request by turning over my stock certificate to a broker for eventual sale. But since I had little need for cash at the time, and zero aptitude for business, I held on to the shares, and soon turned my attention to more pressing concerns, such as dating.
My newly acquired self-image as oil tycoon soon became a source of great pride. No longer a mere consumer, I actually owned a small stake in one of the biggest polluters of all time.
While I had always avoided filling up at Exxon’s pricey gas stations, I now embraced them. Just my way of giving back, I thought, as I inserted the nozzle into my beat-up Plymouth.
During my tenure as an Exxon investor, the company merged with Mobil. Its stock split twice, and the share value climbed steadily, year after year. That oil spill barely caused a ripple in the stock’s performance.
I now have my eye on
Before I commit to purchasing any shares, however, BP will need to open up a gas station in town.