The fugitive banker finally talks. And you won’t believe what he has to say. For the past four years, Price had run his own multimillion-dollar investment firm, PFG. More than a hundred clients, many of whom had come through his church, entrusted with him their life savings. They saw a man whose great humility was outweighed only by his uncanny ability to outfox the markets. PFG had made him a wealthy man, even if the trappings of success—fancy cars, designer clothes, lavish vacations—held no great interest for him.
In the new world of on-demand everything, you’re either pampered, isolated royalty — or you’re a 21st century servant. Angel the concierge stands behind a lobby desk at a luxe apartment building in downtown San Francisco, and describes the residents of this imperial, 37-story tower. “Ubers, Squares, a few Twitters,” she says. “A lot of work-from-homers.”
We're celebrating the Fourth of July at my cousin's McMansion in Lake Mary, Florida, a short stroll across a golf course to the Sanford line. I'm surrounded by kinfolk I haven't seen since the last funeral. We're sipping sweet wine, Baileys, and beer. We're telling the stories we always tell, and stories I've never heard.
On a snowy evening in December, Brian Williams and his wife, Jane, met with a small group of NBC executives for a celebratory dinner in a private room at Del Posto, Mario Batali’s restaurant in Chelsea. Williams had just notched his tenth anniversary anchoring the top-rated Nightly News, and NBC Universal CEO Steve Burke wanted to commemorate the past—and lock in the network’s future.