Friends left yesterday after a blissful week in Loreto. Now solo this week before group travel to Turkey, Greece, Thailand, Vietnam and Vegas for one more month of business school excess. And then back to work. The last two years have been by turns hedonistic, challenging, and fulfilling, and moving to Seattle feels like a transition. At some point I (think I) figured out:
1) I'll be living in Seattle or California from now on. Closer to family and friends, better cultural fit. I will resolve the issue of leaving friends and lovers out east by lobbying them to quit fooling themselves and move.
2) I like the hell out of of consumer-facing tech product management and entrepreneurship and will probably do a combination of these things for a while. A couple months back my friend Brad visited me at HBS. He's been a product manager at young companies on and off since we left Stanford in 2002, and he knows one hundred times as much as I do about being a good one. He's a gifted dude, and I couldn't stop asking him questions. I was surprised to feel my first pangs of professional jealousy: not at what he's accomplished, but at what he knows that I don't yet and how much fun he's already had at work. Like one of those guys who married his high school sweetheart and always kept the faith. Like the product phenoms Ron and Luis and the wildly talented (but evil?) Unvarnished team of Pete and Jason, co-founder of this blog. I am glad for what I learned in consulting, but it just never captured my heart the way this stuff does. My mom likes to say, "It's not a race", and she's right. Through my post-college wanderings (tech install assistant - Proactiv infomercial interviewer - PR flack - law firm copywriter - law school protestor and LSAT prep coach - public speaking trainer - food delivery startup marketer) my dad told me "It's all right to look around for a while. [long pause] As long as you find a direction by 30." I beat the clock!
GHOSTFACE! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hO7NeKdidEc
QUEENSBRIDGE! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oda0WkFcus0
TRANSYLVANIA! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3SsYyTUu50
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Health care baby
I spent most of yesterday airborne due to flight delays from Costa Rica to Boston. This was pretty ideal because I would otherwise have spent the days staring the live Google News ticker. The country and the Democrats got a big win in health care yesterday, with a late vote securing the passage of a bill that will extend health care to an additional 30MM Americans. This blows my mind. If you put everybody in America in a room and tossed insurance in the air, 1 in 10 guests would head home with a great party favor. This is more than TWICE the number of unemployed people in this country. This blows my mind.
Republicans are threatening to make the Democrats feel this in November. Which seems kind of credible, but at the same time, isn't "Let me introduce you to your neighbor who has health insurance now" a solid response to "You may or may not have increased the deficit?" I recently helped a loved one find insurance for a pre-existing condition, and just figuring out what's covered is aggravating. What should a government spend money on if not the health and well-being of its citizens?
I think after some early churn this is going to be remembered as the Democrats' great gift of the '00s. This happened with Civil Rights legislation, it happened with Medicare, and it should happen again here. It's a breath of life for the O-man's presidency because people like people who get things done, and I hope it reinvigorates the rest of his domestic agenda so we can incubate more smart kids from India and China. Democracy and the free world deserve no less. It's the American Dream brother...well ain't it?
Republicans are threatening to make the Democrats feel this in November. Which seems kind of credible, but at the same time, isn't "Let me introduce you to your neighbor who has health insurance now" a solid response to "You may or may not have increased the deficit?" I recently helped a loved one find insurance for a pre-existing condition, and just figuring out what's covered is aggravating. What should a government spend money on if not the health and well-being of its citizens?
I think after some early churn this is going to be remembered as the Democrats' great gift of the '00s. This happened with Civil Rights legislation, it happened with Medicare, and it should happen again here. It's a breath of life for the O-man's presidency because people like people who get things done, and I hope it reinvigorates the rest of his domestic agenda so we can incubate more smart kids from India and China. Democracy and the free world deserve no less. It's the American Dream brother...well ain't it?
Monday, March 8, 2010
What I'm aiming for
My business card is perfect.
Crisp white edges, soft laminate, sweeping font
And a tuft of golden retriever hair stuck to the back with wine,
Which pushes out between pages of my wife’s novel.
Perfect.
My suit has collected dust since my sister’s wedding in Fiji.
Mom and dad wear straw hats to the beach or Christmas dinner
And tell anyone who asks that they have earned it.
I still dream big,
About the ideal Reuben sandwich,
Or how to raise a kid that works out problems without tattling
And is not as stubborn as we all were back then.
I mentor a dozen young men these days.
“How can we get ahead?” they ask,
“What’s the fastest way?”
Figure out what you like to do and do it.
I’d like to tell you more, but
It’s hot outside in California,
And my daughter is eating all the cherry tomatoes in the garden.
Crisp white edges, soft laminate, sweeping font
And a tuft of golden retriever hair stuck to the back with wine,
Which pushes out between pages of my wife’s novel.
Perfect.
My suit has collected dust since my sister’s wedding in Fiji.
Mom and dad wear straw hats to the beach or Christmas dinner
And tell anyone who asks that they have earned it.
I still dream big,
About the ideal Reuben sandwich,
Or how to raise a kid that works out problems without tattling
And is not as stubborn as we all were back then.
I mentor a dozen young men these days.
“How can we get ahead?” they ask,
“What’s the fastest way?”
Figure out what you like to do and do it.
I’d like to tell you more, but
It’s hot outside in California,
And my daughter is eating all the cherry tomatoes in the garden.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
From moron to hater and everything in between
A few years ago Shaq won the NBA MVP award and named himself "The Big Aristotle", reminding assembled reporters of the Greek's claim that "You are what you repeatedly do." Though The Big Coming Into Camp Fat never won another MVP, there's something to reflect on there. Our activities shape our memories, our relationships and our characters. So they are worth thinking about. Here at school we learn to have a bias for action, and it's easy to see people as the sum of the classes and jobs they take, the organizations they join, the businesses they start and the social engagements they enjoy.
But I don't think that creates a complete picture of a life. Somewhere in all the doing of school we also decide how to be. Here black and white choices give way to itchy, inscrutable grays, and everything is tradeoffs, spectra, rival camps and bad extremes.
One of the more interesting spectra I see runs from reckless to brooding.
Reductively, I spent a lot of my early twenties living recklessly. My best friend nicknamed me The Beast: I was joyful and impulsive and what I have now learned is called risk-seeking. I made some dumb calls and was lucky that nothing very bad ever happened. At the time I was convinced that nothing could. A close friend from college died and another went to jail, and these things shocked me, but I'm not sure they made me smarter at the time. I had people around me who covered for me when I said something stupid, fed me leftovers when I was living on cereal, did NOT smash me with a hammer when it was warranted, and helped me find a job when I got fired for leaving work for a month to visit a girlfriend in Japan. And I eventually saw how this stuff impacts how people think about you, hurting good relationships and breeding bad ones. Worse, it can leave other people holding the bag for your indiscretions. If I cringe now when I see a friend fly across continents to vomit on honeymooners or mount the bar to tell the DJ "I'm paying your salary, I'll pick the music" it's partly because I don't want to hold the bag, and partly because I've been there before.
Reductively again, I spent a lot of my mid-twenties brooding. I took a downcast, blasé attitude towards new people, waiting to be approached and impressed. I wrapped myself in a blanket and listened to Elliott Smith until morning. I refused to make small talk and wrote off people who just wanted to have a good time. I was so intense at work that a colleague started to mimic my tight-wound "office walk". It is NOT FUN to be around someone like this. Unfortunately, it's pretty easy to stay in this mode once you're in it. And being critical bonds people. As college sophomores wary of freshman friendliness, we made a list of people we didn't like and nailed it to the door like vindictive teenage Martin Luthers. Somebody still has that list. But as my friend DJ noted recently, what good is a relationship where all you do is complain? If you can't be free and easy and wild sometimes it's hard to have much fun.
The perfect balance is out there somewhere. It's probably in finding who you like and picking your spots and traveling light and dinner parties and taking your responsibilities more seriously than you take yourself. I'm thankful that life and school gives us time to figure it out.
But I don't think that creates a complete picture of a life. Somewhere in all the doing of school we also decide how to be. Here black and white choices give way to itchy, inscrutable grays, and everything is tradeoffs, spectra, rival camps and bad extremes.
One of the more interesting spectra I see runs from reckless to brooding.
Reductively, I spent a lot of my early twenties living recklessly. My best friend nicknamed me The Beast: I was joyful and impulsive and what I have now learned is called risk-seeking. I made some dumb calls and was lucky that nothing very bad ever happened. At the time I was convinced that nothing could. A close friend from college died and another went to jail, and these things shocked me, but I'm not sure they made me smarter at the time. I had people around me who covered for me when I said something stupid, fed me leftovers when I was living on cereal, did NOT smash me with a hammer when it was warranted, and helped me find a job when I got fired for leaving work for a month to visit a girlfriend in Japan. And I eventually saw how this stuff impacts how people think about you, hurting good relationships and breeding bad ones. Worse, it can leave other people holding the bag for your indiscretions. If I cringe now when I see a friend fly across continents to vomit on honeymooners or mount the bar to tell the DJ "I'm paying your salary, I'll pick the music" it's partly because I don't want to hold the bag, and partly because I've been there before.
Reductively again, I spent a lot of my mid-twenties brooding. I took a downcast, blasé attitude towards new people, waiting to be approached and impressed. I wrapped myself in a blanket and listened to Elliott Smith until morning. I refused to make small talk and wrote off people who just wanted to have a good time. I was so intense at work that a colleague started to mimic my tight-wound "office walk". It is NOT FUN to be around someone like this. Unfortunately, it's pretty easy to stay in this mode once you're in it. And being critical bonds people. As college sophomores wary of freshman friendliness, we made a list of people we didn't like and nailed it to the door like vindictive teenage Martin Luthers. Somebody still has that list. But as my friend DJ noted recently, what good is a relationship where all you do is complain? If you can't be free and easy and wild sometimes it's hard to have much fun.
The perfect balance is out there somewhere. It's probably in finding who you like and picking your spots and traveling light and dinner parties and taking your responsibilities more seriously than you take yourself. I'm thankful that life and school gives us time to figure it out.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The Kindle goes to college
I'll be heading back to Seattle after school to help Amazon.com create a new Kindle for universities and schools. From my beginner's perspective, this is a big market opportunity and a big challenge. Replacing textbooks and handouts with an e-reader is a great idea for at least four reasons.
1. Convenience. Printed texts are heavy and hard to carry, especially as they accumulate over time. Every HBS student has to decide what to do with old books and cases - they take up a lot of space, they don't age particularly well and it's hard to "just keep the good parts", so I think the great majority of folks end up throwing most of their materials away.
2. Cost. Printed texts are prohibitively expensive. I remember paying hundreds of dollars for poorly bound books of photocopied articles in college that became useless when the term was over. Textbooks were supposedly resellable, but after one experience lugging thirty pounds of books around campus to get back pennies on the dollar, I opted to give them to friends for free.
3. New functionality. E-readers offer a great platform for tools that enhance learning. Imagine textbook publishers defining an economic concept in a new edition based on data that 25% of readers of the previous edition had to look it up. Imagine consolidating your highlights onto one page with one click. Or borrowing your friend's book notes from across the classroom five minutes after class starts. Social e-readers might force schools to bolster their honor codes, but they offer major improvements in learning.
4. Environment. Cutting down on paper waste is good for the planet, especially when a couple of edits to Chapter 17 and a new cover sometimes justify a new textbook edition.
The problem is that none of these factors are new. While e-readers are a compelling new flavor of solution, the digitization of textbooks has been five years away for twenty years. It hasn't happened for a few reasons. Schools have an established way of doing things and are slow to change, especially since textbook costs are primarily passed on to students. Publishers make a high margin on many new textbooks and have been hesitant to let a third party claim a piece of the supply chain and margin - everybody sees what Apple did to the record labels and wants to avoid the same fate. Finally, the experience isn't that great yet. We have PDF versions of our cases at school, but most people prefer holding the paper in their hands. Amazon's effort to introduce the existing Kindle DX in pilot programs at a few schools has gotten lukewarm reviews (http://www.engadget.com/2009/09/28/kindle-dx-called-poor-excuse-of-an-academic-tool-in-princeton/).
What kind of deals can Amazon make to deliver value to both publishers and students? What kind of features would make you thrilled to use a Kindle at school? Tell me what you think and I'll try to get the best ideas in!
1. Convenience. Printed texts are heavy and hard to carry, especially as they accumulate over time. Every HBS student has to decide what to do with old books and cases - they take up a lot of space, they don't age particularly well and it's hard to "just keep the good parts", so I think the great majority of folks end up throwing most of their materials away.
2. Cost. Printed texts are prohibitively expensive. I remember paying hundreds of dollars for poorly bound books of photocopied articles in college that became useless when the term was over. Textbooks were supposedly resellable, but after one experience lugging thirty pounds of books around campus to get back pennies on the dollar, I opted to give them to friends for free.
3. New functionality. E-readers offer a great platform for tools that enhance learning. Imagine textbook publishers defining an economic concept in a new edition based on data that 25% of readers of the previous edition had to look it up. Imagine consolidating your highlights onto one page with one click. Or borrowing your friend's book notes from across the classroom five minutes after class starts. Social e-readers might force schools to bolster their honor codes, but they offer major improvements in learning.
4. Environment. Cutting down on paper waste is good for the planet, especially when a couple of edits to Chapter 17 and a new cover sometimes justify a new textbook edition.
The problem is that none of these factors are new. While e-readers are a compelling new flavor of solution, the digitization of textbooks has been five years away for twenty years. It hasn't happened for a few reasons. Schools have an established way of doing things and are slow to change, especially since textbook costs are primarily passed on to students. Publishers make a high margin on many new textbooks and have been hesitant to let a third party claim a piece of the supply chain and margin - everybody sees what Apple did to the record labels and wants to avoid the same fate. Finally, the experience isn't that great yet. We have PDF versions of our cases at school, but most people prefer holding the paper in their hands. Amazon's effort to introduce the existing Kindle DX in pilot programs at a few schools has gotten lukewarm reviews (http://www.engadget.com/2009/09/28/kindle-dx-called-poor-excuse-of-an-academic-tool-in-princeton/).
What kind of deals can Amazon make to deliver value to both publishers and students? What kind of features would make you thrilled to use a Kindle at school? Tell me what you think and I'll try to get the best ideas in!
Friday, February 5, 2010
"Everything changes in order to grow."
Thanks mom.
A lot has changed. Since my last post on this blog, I finished my first year at HBS, returned to Seattle for a summer internship at Amazon.com, accepted a full time gig there, won a nasty rematch with Guillain-Barre and returned to school with simple ambitions to take it slow and graduate on time.
Now I'm at home writing at 2:00 AM, listening to melancholy music on Pandora as the night rolls in. Opiate warmth is lapping at the pain in my feet, where boiling water and clumps of molten metal broke the skin when the bottom of the pot I was cooking dinner in melted onto the floor. I've had the opportunity to reflect, including two months horizontal in a bed when I really couldn't do much. More than I would have chosen. A few big takeaways from illness:
1) I feel incredibly lucky to know the people I do. My family and friends gave me love and support beyond what I could have imagined, and it made healing easier. At one point I had limited lung control and I had to turn my wheelchair away from Noel, Dean and Adam because I was laughing too hard to breathe. Kathy, Connor, Roger, Karolynn, Ben and Nadine flew out from the west coast to sit around with me all day when I could barely keep my eyes open. Carolina held my hand through situations many men won't even discuss, with compassion, strength, patience and the kind of do-it-all pluck that made my parents fall in love with her too. My sister stayed with me in Boston, gave me her wonderful company and helped me with small unglamorous bits of my recovery until I swore up and down that I was okay and then asked, told and begged her to return to Seattle to resume her own life. My parents dropped what they were doing and moved to Boston. My friends from school and from before were a constant presence in my recovery; I put up pictures of a lot of them so they were in the room all the time. I know "who would show up for my funeral" now, I feel confident that I can take on bigger and tougher things, and I expect to be returning this favor for the rest of my life.
2) Thoreau had it right: “Our life is frittered away by detail ... simplify, simplify.” This seems as true now as it did when I was sick. Since getting out of the hospital, I have been doing "less" with my time than I've done since high school. I have been napping, sleeping, resting, reading, staying in, saying no, and spending more time with less people, and I feel happier. It's not a matter of shutting down large-scale social activity, but by getting enough rest and picking my spots, I appreciate that stuff more. I also haven't had a drink in about three months. I miss the occasional glass of wine, but I don't miss the nonsense that comes with hard partying (extra weight, fuzzy mornings, being around drunk people and the way it runs together) at all. And I am loving time alone more than I would have guessed.
3) "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans." Oh man, is this true.
3) I'm ready to move home. It seems like the right step. I'm totally excited about my job and spending more time with family. Caro and I have been through good times and bad ones together and I can't wait to be with her again to see what's next. So much of my life is out there already that part of me would happily get on a plane tomorrow. But hey, I'm also just now learning how to appreciate it here.
I am turning 30 on February 19th, and as this phase comes to a close I like that thought and am glad to be alive.
A lot has changed. Since my last post on this blog, I finished my first year at HBS, returned to Seattle for a summer internship at Amazon.com, accepted a full time gig there, won a nasty rematch with Guillain-Barre and returned to school with simple ambitions to take it slow and graduate on time.
Now I'm at home writing at 2:00 AM, listening to melancholy music on Pandora as the night rolls in. Opiate warmth is lapping at the pain in my feet, where boiling water and clumps of molten metal broke the skin when the bottom of the pot I was cooking dinner in melted onto the floor. I've had the opportunity to reflect, including two months horizontal in a bed when I really couldn't do much. More than I would have chosen. A few big takeaways from illness:
1) I feel incredibly lucky to know the people I do. My family and friends gave me love and support beyond what I could have imagined, and it made healing easier. At one point I had limited lung control and I had to turn my wheelchair away from Noel, Dean and Adam because I was laughing too hard to breathe. Kathy, Connor, Roger, Karolynn, Ben and Nadine flew out from the west coast to sit around with me all day when I could barely keep my eyes open. Carolina held my hand through situations many men won't even discuss, with compassion, strength, patience and the kind of do-it-all pluck that made my parents fall in love with her too. My sister stayed with me in Boston, gave me her wonderful company and helped me with small unglamorous bits of my recovery until I swore up and down that I was okay and then asked, told and begged her to return to Seattle to resume her own life. My parents dropped what they were doing and moved to Boston. My friends from school and from before were a constant presence in my recovery; I put up pictures of a lot of them so they were in the room all the time. I know "who would show up for my funeral" now, I feel confident that I can take on bigger and tougher things, and I expect to be returning this favor for the rest of my life.
2) Thoreau had it right: “Our life is frittered away by detail ... simplify, simplify.” This seems as true now as it did when I was sick. Since getting out of the hospital, I have been doing "less" with my time than I've done since high school. I have been napping, sleeping, resting, reading, staying in, saying no, and spending more time with less people, and I feel happier. It's not a matter of shutting down large-scale social activity, but by getting enough rest and picking my spots, I appreciate that stuff more. I also haven't had a drink in about three months. I miss the occasional glass of wine, but I don't miss the nonsense that comes with hard partying (extra weight, fuzzy mornings, being around drunk people and the way it runs together) at all. And I am loving time alone more than I would have guessed.
3) "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans." Oh man, is this true.
3) I'm ready to move home. It seems like the right step. I'm totally excited about my job and spending more time with family. Caro and I have been through good times and bad ones together and I can't wait to be with her again to see what's next. So much of my life is out there already that part of me would happily get on a plane tomorrow. But hey, I'm also just now learning how to appreciate it here.
I am turning 30 on February 19th, and as this phase comes to a close I like that thought and am glad to be alive.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Beware: hawks
* Went to Moscow and St. Petersburg with 13 friends for a four day weekend. Spectacular borsch, bottomless mayo. We stumbled from the epic Nebar into the sun rising over the Church of the Spilt Blood, through Red Square where sweatered monkeys fought for attention with filthy giant birds and mohawked jumpers on moon boots. Return to Oz? No, back in the U.S.S.R.
* Got my placement from Amazon for the summer. I'll be working on CreateSpace, a one stop shop for authors, musicians and directors to create, edit and distribute their work directly through Amazon. I'm very jazzed about this, as many of the trends in digital media are pointing towards self-publishing (it's easier than ever to create and distribute new work, and the net provides infinite channels directly to fans). Also can't wait to head back to Seattle with some HBS friends and spend tons of time with my mom, dad and sister.
* I'm in love. Awesome.
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