In the increasingly specialized world of publicly traded products, where no stock-market niche seems too Byzantine or bizarre to fill, I should have seen this coming.
I once held shares in railroads, power companies, computer-makers and newspapers. They were things I understood, things I could touch. Or at least things I wanted to touch.
I am now invested in mucus.
Last week, my wife proudly added 100 shares of the oh-so-tony-sounding
Adams Respiratory Therapeutics to the family portfolio.
Don’t let the high-falutin’ company name fool you. These people deal in snot.
More precisely, the thinning thereof.
Adams Respiratory Therapeutics makes something called Mucinex. Actually, my wife informs me, there are three types of Mucinex. But they are all designed, according to a clinical Yahoo Finance corporate profile, “to help move excess mucus out of the body.”
My wife insists this is nothing to sneeze at. We should be hoping it is.
Anyhow, she got the idea to invest in mucus from her beloved CNBC telebroker, Jim Cramer. She worships Cramer as if he were a TV preacher, which he sort of is. Careening around the studio with his sleeves rolled up, his tie loose and sweat pouring off his forehead, Cramer screams sermons on investment like Alan Greenspan channeling Jimmy Swaggart.
Cramer rings bells. He blows horns. I can barely hear him talk about profit projections and management strategies over the din. My wife videotapes his show and replays it over and over, like Mike Shanahan breaking down Broncos game film.
She swears by Cramer. If we lose money on mucus, I will swear at him.
For now, though, there might be gold clogging them there bronchial chambers. Last week, analysts at three investment firms recommended Adams Respiratory Therapeutics to their customers.
“Outperform” expectations, RBC Capital Markets predicted.
“Buy,” chimed in Deutsche Securities.
“Overweight,” raved Morgan Stanley, using what I guess is broker-posse slang for “phat.”
I hope they didn’t blow it. But I honestly haven’t a clue. I figured the Internet would be congested with information about this storied maker of what polite folks call “expectorants.” Alas, what I found indicates that Adams Respiratory Therapeutics hit the market only in mid-July. Since then, it has risen $8 a share on the strength of analysts’ recommendations.
The company lists no price-to-earnings ratio on Yahoo. It lists no dividend or yield. All it has, as far as I can tell, are cheerleaders.
This says a lot about how the stock market works. A couple of analysts hype a company that makes virtually anything, and the price shoots up before it has proved it’s worth a dime.
This is what it has come to on Wall Street: In for a dime, in for a few thousand dollars.
Me, I’m banking on allergies and the common cold.
My wife claims it’s not such a bad bet. She says the Food and Drug Administration lets Adams sell Mucinex in 600-mg tablets without a prescription. A 2002 Adams news release said the company has also patented the Mucinex product and “its unique bi-layered delivery system technology” until 2020.
I believe this technology involves rapidly repeating the name of the active ingredient – guaifenesin – until you cough up whatever’s ailing you.
I once heard a comedian refer to German as “the language of phlegm.” I never thought I’d own a piece of the action.
Now that I do, I’ve decided to take an active role in my new company’s management to protect my investment. I hereby submit to Adams Respiratory Therapeutics a suggestion for a Mucinex marketing director.
Remember the Cheech and Chong character Bruno Hockaloogie?
If not, perhaps I can interest you in the initial public offering of my new product:
Booger Be Gone.
Jim Spencer’s column appears Monday, Wednesday and Friday. He can be reached at 303-820-1771 or jspencer@denverpost.com
