[Chapter 873: There's Always a Wise Guy Trying to Mess Me Up]
The stock market and the auto market essentially served as the economic barometer for the nation. As for the housing market, due to significant regional differences, Americans primarily looked at new home delivery data.
In Los Angeles, for example, the cost of homes in Beverly Hills was considerably higher. Coming up with an average value was virtually meaningless.
1995 was a quiet year; aside from the U.S., other places didn't seem to fare well. The Soviet Union was embroiled in conflict, facing severe consequences. Europe, aside from some localized battles, appeared to be struggling financially as well.
As for Asia, a major earthquake seemed to have dashed Japan's dreams.
What? China's economy grew by double digits?
Honestly, whether it was arrogance or bias, most Americans didn't pay much attention to the state of the Chinese economy. The gap was simply too vast. When factoring in the country's population of over a billion, the numbers didn't mean much at all.
"Filson, who is this Albert guy? What's he talking about?"
"Ahem, boss, he's a congressman from Detroit. Best not to dwell on his stance," Filson replied.
"Ha, now that's a circus act! But this situation is serious. So many people rallying for it, genuinely angry."
The American auto market was booming; embarrassingly, Japanese cars were the most popular, followed closely by German cars. As for American vehicles, they always had their loyal fan base.
The big three automakers were indeed feeling the pressure. They now had another option for their loyal consumers.
Yes, they were talking about the only American-made car not produced in the U.S. This was ridiculously ironic.
"Filson, let's leak the news that Tesla might be considering delisting from the New York Stock Exchange."
Filson forced a smile, realizing this situation would escalate. It was best to confront it; if they kept backing down, it would never end.
"This Albert guy has lost it, hasn't he?" Clinton, having just finished a meeting, walked into the Oval Office ready to explode.
How desperate was he for attention? William White was no pushover. What if he had a union backing him? Those underhanded tactics were laughable.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Mr. President, the situation isn't good. Auto stocks opened lower across the board. There are rumors that Tesla might delist from the NYSE. By the way, Japan just called too. If we raise tariffs, it could trigger a bunch of economic issues."
"Damn, who said anything about raising taxes?"
"Ahem, NBC just had a feature praising Albert. The way they positioned him, it made him seem more presidential. The host went on about him being a star of the future."
Clinton was stunned, and so was Albert himself, bewildered by being dubbed a presumptive successor.
William White's thinking was straightforward: "So you want fame? Alright, I'll give you a PR explosion. Twenty-four hours of nonstop soft news, writing a flattering piece on you till it's nauseating."
"Come on, Dad, something feels off here. William White has lost it; how can Albert even be compared to Roosevelt?"
Seeing his confused son, George Bush Sr. felt equally lost. White was really stepping over the line this time.
"This is just flattery at work. Just you watch; it won't be long before this guy gets buried. The outrageous praise now will turn into harsh criticism later."
It was evident; anyone with a hint of political acumen understood this. Flattery, in truth, was an art. The best compliments tended to be subtle.
Americans could be blunt, but they usually disliked overtly excessive compliments.
The main problem was that this guy was new. He hadn't even settled in yet, and he wanted to play the successor. Not only would the elephants be criticizing him, but the donkeys wouldn't be at ease either.
"What's his background? How did he manage to overtake the competition so quickly? Old Steve Jobs, don't overextend yourself; this isn't your concern."
"Investigate, little tiger, keep digging. As for that big guy, let him go. Don't hold back, clear out the roots of the problem."
"Sure thing."
William White was older now, no longer as naive. The fact that he could get so worked up by this foolishness showcased these fools' bad luck.
Initially, keeping things low-key would have been his choice. However, after tracing the steps back to Albert, it became the only option.
What if he had mob ties? So what? Did he really think he was something special? William White was well aware that many were enjoying the spectacle.
At this point, the situation couldn't be too blatant. If it could look like an accident, that would be perfect.
As for doubts? Who cared? The U.S. was unique--your doubts held no value here.
William White could tolerate others calling him greedy or morally lax but absolutely could not tolerate anyone tarnishing his image as a socially responsible businessman and patriot.
William White produced consumer goods: comics, phones, games, cars. All needed a solid public persona.
"This idiot will undoubtedly face worse than the worst. Warren, what do you think?" The sight of all the newspapers lauding Albert made Greenspan shake his head in humorless disbelief. Did this guy even know what he was getting into?
"Alan, if this guy were really as squeaky clean as the papers claim. Fine, fine, William White has ulterior motives. He probably knows something or has evidence. This is shaping up to be a farce," Warren Buffett said while laughing, but his mood was anything but cheerful. White possessed far too much power to be easily manipulated.
Greenspan felt a headache forming. This group truly didn't know what they were in for. Image mattered. Who were they to question William White?
Now it's a conundrum. Not only had the elephants distanced themselves, but even within the donkeys, no one wanted to deal with this fool.
William White wasn't a die-hard elephant supporter either. It appeared he favored the donkeys. Just look at his donations; he had always strived to keep a balance.
Politically speaking, he was a viable candidate to court. Even if he couldn't be won over, it was wise not to antagonize him.
"Warren, this won't impact the economy, will it?"
"No, rumors of delisting are probably just talk. But our friends are very concerned."
"Are you speaking of tariffs? A 100% increase? Well, William White really is a piece of work."
The two old-timers were oblivious; even if they raised tariffs by 100%, William White still wouldn't open a factory in the U.S.
Unless they found a way to dismantle the auto union.
William White had even moved his operations abroad; those fools still couldn't let go. Just imagine what his Tesla factory would look like in the U.S. today.
The lines of right and wrong were blurred. From the workers' standpoint, the boss couldn't just fire people at will.
But hey, where was the line drawn for casual?
In America, casual was essentially eliminated from the vocabulary. You couldn't fire an employee, even if they were slacking off. Unless they broke the law, no one could easily dismiss them.
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