In keeping our tradition of honoring the recently departed, we turn our attention to the more obscure. Last weekend, at the ripe old age of 96, Harrison Ruffin Tyler gathered to the dust of his forbears. One of whom was Pocahontas. He lived, by all accounts, a rich and interesting life. Survived – barely – the Great Depression. Pulled himself up, built a thriving business, and turned, in later life, towards philanthropy.
But perhaps what sets him most apart was his non-Native American lineage. He was, somehow, the grandson of our 10th President: John Tyler – he of our modified, titular phrase.
Tyler, along with other Historical Giants including Andrew Johnson, Chester A. Arthur, Millard Filmore and Gerald R. Ford, are the only dudes to gain the top spot without ever having been elected to that high office. He ascended to the political summit in 1840, when, as Vice President to William Henry (Tippecanoe) Harrison – at the time the oldest person ever so elected (a record obviously shattered more than once of late) – he caught pneumonia and died — 31 days into his term.
Enter Tyler, the swearing in of whom was so shocking that he earned the nickname “His Accidency”, and whose presidency bears eerie similarities to the one currently in progress. He came into office as successor to a larger-than-life two-termer (in his case Andy Jackson), whose VP (Van Buren) served a single cycle before being rudely bizounced by the electorate. The biggest issue confronting him (though he took the opposite tack from Trump by trying to limit them) was tariffs.
Though never formalized by Congress, he was the first president ever to face an impeachment inquiry.
His presidency was a mixed bag, but he was nothing if not prolific – having sired an impressive 15 offspring, carried and brought into this world by two wives. His last child arrived in his 63rd year. Tyler only made it to 71, but his progeny displayed more vigorous longevity, along with a consistent propensity for delivering children late in life.
And not even his youngest, but the 12th out of 15: Lyon Gardiner Tyler, fathered our subject in 1928. At the age of 75.
I marvel at this. The dude’s grandfather was born in Seventeen frickin Ninety. During the early days of Washington’s first term, with the French Revolution barely under way. George III (aka John Bull) was on the throne at Westminster. He was a teenager when the first ever train rolled down the first ever track.
He took the Oath of Office three years into the reign of Queen Victoria, and died (presumably encouraged, as he was a Virginian and a Southern Sympathizer) when Bobby Lee and Stonewall Jackson were wreaking havoc in the Shenandoah Valley.
And, on Memorial Day Weekend, 2025, his last surviving grandson joined him in the hereafter.
It is, of course, the end of an era. And the rest of us must carry on as best we can.
In doing so, we face, as always, a combination of challenges and opportunities. As of Saturday, the government is Musk-less. EM has peaced from Washington, having accomplished perhaps significant symbolic victories but little of substance while in town, and leaving the premises with a depleted balance sheet and a passel of derision and aggravation.
I am glad he’s gone. But for reasons that I suspect differ from the masses that have deplored him. I believe he worked miracles in the Private Sector to which he returns. As a member of the latter, I welcome him home. This is where he belongs and where his vision and diligence can be put to best use.
Besides, it’s kinda lonely at the top of these realms, where NVDA dwells, apparently, alone. As all are aware, they reported remarkable results in their earnings call – particularly given that our wandering Trade Policy cost them a cool $8 Bil in China this quarter alone. The stock reached an all-time high in result, and one can only marvel at the resiliency of a company catapulted by crypto, launched into the stratosphere by AI — and all against a withering backdrop of accelerating competitive forces and a Washingtonian policy regime seemingly bent on bring them back to terra firma. This caps off what can only be described as a gratifying reporting season, with Gallant 500 growth clocking in at a spiffy ~13%.
The GDP folks in Atlanta are also doing their best to make amends for their dismal Q1 performance:
All of which sets the stage fairly encouragingly. But then there’s that pesky Washington problem. Roughly contemporaneous to the NVDA earnings drop came the news that a judicial panel had put a temporary block on Trump’s “liberation day” tariffs. So, we entered Thursday’s proceedings with the tailwind of the most widely focused upon company in the world surprising to the upside, and a legal delay for those nasty, dilutive tariffs.
But the energy quickly faded. Because, you see, Trump has a way – in fact many ways – around the annoyance of judicial directives. And this brings up a pet peeve of mine. If you have been paying any attention, you notice the trend under which to an increasing extent, our governance is driven by Presidential Executive Orders. Both sides are guilty, as ignited by Obama, accelerated by Trump 1, boosted by Biden, and exploded parabolically during the early days of Trump 2.
The tiresome sequence is always the same: 1) The Big Guy signs an EO; 2) the other side howls with outrage; 3) the latter finds a judge to block it; 4) the other other side cries foul; and 5) finds a loophole. So, whether it’s Biden using his pen to eliminate outstanding student debt or Trump sending unprocessed foreign nationals back home, what it amounts to is an unproductive sequence of Kabuki Theater.
And this is true no matter what your stance is on Executive Orders in general — against which (I don’t mind stating) my tastes run. I vastly prefer, you know, that whole thing about Congress writing laws, the President executing them and the Judiciary interpreting them. Those days are pretty much gone now, and in my books, that’s a shame. But if we’re to be stuck with Government by Executive Order, then please. Whatever side you’re on, please stop this nonsense about how this tactic is fair game when issued by your side, but an outrage when it’s the other guy which does it.
Meantime, our trade policy is so muddled that nobody can possibly keep track of it. I have no idea where we are, but it doesn’t seem like a particularly good spot. Trump will lay down his law by the coffee spoon if necessary. Aluminum/Steel get whacked by 50%, starting in 2 days. The throwdown with China is on.
And one wonders how Trump will strike back at us for daring to live in a country where a panel of judges (the Court of International Trade) – many of whom he himself appointed — unanimously struck down his tariff diktats. With guys like that (AND Obama and Biden) you don’t cross certain lines with impunity.
But the news isn’t ALL bad. I applaud the furtherance of Nippon Steel’s initiative to acquire its U.S. counterpart, which, if executed without impediments, should do wonders for our ability to pump out this heavy metal, and for those in the field tasked with doing it. OPEC+ just announced another > 400k bbl/day production increase, and this as the peak driving season arrives in earnest.
As has been widely reported, the now-expired Month of May featured the best equity performance in a year and a half, taking our key indices to the hallowed threshold of +/- flat on the year. That stated, we’ve some catching up to do vis a vis the rest of the world, which, thus far in ’25, is outpacing us by amounts last witnessed when Harrison Ruffin Tyler was a spry 65:
It’s probably best to think long term here. More myopically, I doubt risk assets will break out in either direction. Too much liquidity/strong fundamentals for a rout; too much uncertainty for a rocket ride. June is, historically, a rough month for investing. We can anticipate some action based upon macro data flows, budget negotiations in Congress (which I hear still exists) and, of course, the Trade Psychodrama.
I don’t see much edge in any of this, though. But you’re good names should still be good. Someday. So I’d hold them, and maybe even buy more if they crumble/trim some if they rally too energetically. It’s the best means for surviving, I think, as, apparently did the Tyler Clan — in a war of attrition where they prevailed by slaughter rule.
Tippecanoe earned his handle fighting Native Americans aggressively. It catalyzed his ascent to the White House. But he caught a bug giving a 3-hour inauguration speech in the freezing rain. 31 days later he was dead. His successor, Tyler, seemed to place more of a priority on keeping the home fires burning. This spawned 15 children and a grandchild who died 235 years after he was born.
I myself am a grandfather, but, sadly, have little hope that I can match our 10th President’s threshold of progeny survival. To do so would require one of my grandsons to make to the year 2195. One can certainly hope, but reality and gravity are likely to prevail here. I will proceed accordingly, and suggest you do the same.
TIMSHEL