Goodbye and Howdy

Well, what did you expect? I had to make my move while I still have my looks.

In naming me chancellor, the Board of Regents of the Texas A&M University System made a leap of faith that I will do my best to justify. Most gratifying is how many people have told me I am a perfect fit for A&M. I take that as a huge compliment. The System’s universities and agencies range across Texas, and I’m proud to ride for the Aggie brand.

You’d expect me to say something like that, of course, but this picture is proof I’m no recent convert. That’s me and my boys, circa 1967. The shirts came from good friends who had just moved from Georgia to College Station to join the A&M faculty. “God’s country,” they called it. I never doubted it.

It took me a little longer to get to Texas, but, as they say, I got here as soon as I could. The Dallas Fed board of directors made its own leap of faith in 1991. One of my proudest moments came a few years later when The American Enterprise magazine called the Dallas Fed “one of the more robust corners of Alan Greenspan’s empire.”

They say you have to leave first base to get to second. I wish it weren’t so. The Fed has been my life for 36 years—the last 14 (almost) as president of the Dallas Fed. Those have been the best years, of course, for many reasons—mainly for the people I’m sad to leave behind.

But I’ll miss other things as well—mostly things associated with monetary policy broadly defined: waiting for the employment report on the first Friday of the month, the inflation reports a few days later, then GDP. Keeping a running scorecard in my head of the implications for the next FOMC meeting. I’ll miss the briefings by our excellent economists, the interviews, the speeches. Especially the speeches and all that goes with them, like sparring with the press: trying to give the audience a lot without giving the press more than I should. I didn’t always succeed. In one of my favorite articles of recent weeks, a Houston Chronicle reporter wrote that he finally realized I was talking to the folks, not the financial markets. Who said the press doesn’t get it?

I arrived in Dallas when the NAFTA debate was just getting started. Having come from textile country, I was pleasantly surprised by the enlightened, free trade attitude of the Texas business community. I preached many sermons touting free enterprise in general and free trade in particular, only to find I was preaching to the choir.

I also had fun during the New Economy period of the late 1990s. An acceleration in productivity growth made faster growth in income and output and lower unemployment possible without more inflation. The Dallas Fed caught that wave and had a good ride, not because I was a better economist than others, but possibly because I wasn’t. Not being good at econometric models, I kept my eyes open to the real world. My heroes were Yogi Berra (“You can observe a lot just by watching”), Richard Pryor (“Who are you going to believe? Me, or your own lying eyes?”) and Mae West (“Too much of a good thing is just about right”).

My new-paradigm frog story (“To boil a frog you put him in cool water and gradually raise the heat. He doesn’t jump because he doesn’t realize his paradigm is shifting”) was helpful in explaining the economy’s paradigm shift and analysts’ slow reaction to it. My Washington colleagues sometimes looked askance, but the press was tolerant and my Texas friends hung in there.

I enjoyed frequent appearances on CNBC and CNNfn, and I even risked “Kudlow & Cramer” a few times. The sky didn’t fall, and the rest of the country got a small taste of Texas optimism.

One of my favorite press moments, however, came on radio—NPR, no less. At the end of an interview on the economy, Bob Edwards asked if it was true that I’d visited Buddy Holly’s grave in Lubbock. I admitted it. He then asked what Buddy had ever contributed to the economy. I said, well, “Rave On” would have made a great anthem for the booming New Economy period of the late 1990s. When the interview aired two days later, it closed with Buddy singing “Rave On.” I may not have changed the world during my tenure in Dallas, but I did put Buddy Holly back on the radio. I’ll settle for that.

Well, I’m off to College Station to start a new life. I’ll miss the Fed. I’ll miss Dallas. I’ll likely see less of the world, but more of Texas—not a bad trade-off. Much of my past knowledge and experience will fade and I'll start off with blank pages. I'm losing my shtick and don't know if I'll find a new one. I’m looking forward to learning the new ropes from Bob Gates, President of Texas A&M University, and others. Bob and I are off to a good start. He gave me his barber’s phone number.

Willie warned mamas not to let their babies grow up to be cowboys. But Lyle ‘79 and I want them as future Aggies. (Yes, Lyle approved this message.) Whether at the flagship in College Station, or at any of the other eight fine universities in the A&M system, we will, as always, fulfill our commitment to serve the great state of Texas with excellence.

Rave on and Gig ‘em!