usdaed

The idea, naturally, is appealing. Skip the traffic, soar above the gridlock, arrive at your destination looking vaguely superior. I envision a future where I can bypass the highway entirely, silently gliding over the endless stream of SUVs piloted by people who seem genuinely angry about something. But here’s the thing: I also spent a week trying to assemble a flat-pack bookshelf last month, and I suspect the engineering challenges of vertical takeoff and landing are, shall we say, slightly more complex.

The momentum, as they call it, has slowed, a temporary respite perhaps, amidst the usual market fluctuations and the distant, echoing reports of conflict. But to believe the story is over is to misunderstand the nature of the machine. The larger entities – Microsoft, Alphabet, Amazon, Meta Platforms – are committing vast sums to expand the infrastructure, a digital architecture of immense scale. The projections, reaching into the next decade, speak of trillions. Trillions. A figure so large it becomes… meaningless. A bureaucratic abstraction. And within this labyrinth of spending, a single entity appears poised to benefit, not through innovation, but through a peculiar position within the system.

It’s a bit like building a very large extension onto your house. You spend a fortune, endure months of disruption, and then hope it adds value. Scale, in and of itself, isn’t the point. Anyone can build something big. The trick is building something that works, something that generates a decent return.

Both companies have been flashing surprisingly decent numbers, mind you. AI seems to be helping, not hindering. Which begs the question: is this a chance to actually buy something? And, if so, which one won’t leave you weeping into your portfolio?

But here’s the thing. While the market is busy having a collective coronary, Adobe’s engine is actually revving up. The numbers, when you bother to look past the screaming headlines, are…encouraging. Cash flow? Record-breaking. Revenue? Accelerating. It’s a bizarre disconnect. A digital mirage. And in a world obsessed with instant gratification and knee-jerk reactions, that creates an opportunity. A dirty, beautiful, potentially lucrative opportunity.

The company’s predicament is not one of sudden misfortune, but of a gradual accumulation of burdens. The debt, nearly nine billion dollars in total, clings to it like the sea mist to a weathered hull. Six and a half billion of this sum falls due within the year—a deadline that approaches with the implacable rhythm of the tides. The current free cash flow, a negative $1.73 billion, is less a flow than a hemorrhage. One observes this with a certain detached melancholy; it is a story repeated throughout history, of enterprises overreaching, of ambitions exceeding grasp.

These midstream entities, these pipeline operators, boast a certain… stability. Less volatile than the frantic dance of exploration and production, less prone to the whims of refinery margins. They benefit, naturally, from the insatiable appetite of the modern world, and now, from the peculiar demands of artificial intelligence. Data centers, those humming temples of the digital age, require prodigious amounts of energy. A convenient narrative, certainly. One wonders, though, if the true beneficiaries will be the shareholders, or simply the engineers who design ever more elaborate cooling systems.

It’s increased the overall portfolio to 4.57% of Tabor’s 13F reportable AUM. Which, translated into normal human terms, means they’re putting a lot of eggs in the Knicks and Rangers basket. Speaking of baskets… my attempts at basket weaving are still… suboptimal. But I digress.

The analysts, bless their hearts, are trying to spin this as…nothing. “Oh, it’s just tax obligations!” they chirp. “He’s still got plenty left!” As if that makes it okay. It’s like watching someone casually discard a perfectly good yacht and then acting surprised when people notice. He still holds 1,580,513 shares, valued at roughly $31.7 million. A comfortable sum. Enough to insulate you from, well, everything. Including the existential dread of working in tech.

Net sales dipped a fraction, 2.4% to $1.5 billion. They shuttered seven stores – a slow bleed, but sometimes a necessary one. A business needs to prune to survive, like a gambler shedding bad habits. They’re down to 1,382 locations. Not a vast empire, but enough brick and mortar to make a dent.