By Nigel Duara | Los Angeles Times
“Electric” Dave Banham slugged back the last of his beer, wiped his lips and resumed his barstool rant about the new rich guy in town.
“What’s he up to? What are those towers? Who is he driving around with?” Banham asked the bartender at the Double P Roadhouse and a couple of whiskery locals nursing cocktails. “What the hell is Warren Buffett’s kid doing down here?”
Ever since Howard Graham Buffett arrived in this hippie enclave in 2013, speculating about his motives has become a local pastime. That he’s rarely seen in public has deepened the mystery.
