Language, Ideas, Oysters

A former language professor of mine was frustrated that her class work was stuffed to the bottom of her students’ academic pile, while the business and science work was given precedent, even being worked on while she lectured.  It wasn’t that students didn’t care; it was just that the language assignments were not a priority in an educational environment that determined the more reason-driven material to be social differentiators.  From the teacher’s perspective, this was painful, because she “saw the world through language.”  Her work, the art of words, should have been a priority.  Without language, what else was there?

Malcolm Gladwell has recently taken aim at Chris Anderson’s “free.”  His argument is that not everything, even information, will be pushed to an economic cost of zero.  Citing examples from medical research and nuclear energy, he points to say that beyond just the digital goods being raped of cost, not all information wants to be free, even in this supposed idea economy.  His closing thought, and one that I agree with, is that “the digital age has so transformed the ways in which things are made and sold that there are no iron laws.”  And Malcolm, of course “views the world though ideas.”  More importantly, his ideas.

Anthony Bourdain, in his sex and drugs fueled account Kitchen Confidential, describes a vivid moment in his young days of wandering around Paris that blossomed his love for all things food.  While on a picnic boat ride with his family, he encountered his first experience with a raw oyster, still dripping and nearly alive.  Showing off, Bourdain tilted the shell towards his mouth, swallowed deeply and remarked that it “tasted of seawater…of brine and flesh..and somehow…of the future.”  Bourdain had just eaten an oyster out his cupped hands, but somehow captured his own, driving purpose.  His craft allows him to “view the world through adventures in the culinary underbelly,” which was sparked by the consumption of one slimy mollusk.

When you tear down the material aspects of the stories above, really what we’re observing is pure individual perspective.  An accepted cognitive bias.  A meaning found through sometimes even superficial means where passionate educators, storytellers, chefs–or really anyone with a message to spread–identifies their purpose as a derivative of how the gears of the world run in their eyes.

Rather than argue about the statistics, economics or preferences in any of the above cases, I am simply presenting the means by which these individuals see the world.  We each see the various levels of humanity and communication through the eyes of our own work.  It’s less “what” we’re doing, but more so “how” we got there.  Without that–aside from that silly thing called being “wrong”–there’s not much else.

           

Comments / Jul 01.09 / History, Internet, Marketing / by alexjmann

The Ideal Bar

What’s your ideal bar? ¹

In Jack Kerouac’s On The Road, the character Dean Morarty (Neal Cassady) claims:

The ideal bar doesn’t exist in America.  An ideal bar is something that’s gone beyond our ken.  In nineteen-ten a bar was a place where men went to meet during or after work, and all there was was a long counter, brass sails, spittoons, player piano for music, a few mirrors, and barrels of whiskey at ten cents a shot together with barrels of beer at five cents a mug.  Now all you get is chromium, drunken women, hostile bartenders, anxious owners who hover around the door, worried about their leather seats and the law; just a lot of screaming at the wrong time and deadly silence when a stranger walks in.

My thoughts are that the ideal bar doesn’t try to be anything other than a bar.

The bar is an alternative social setting that provides alcoholic beverages and sometimes entertainment.  It should be a welcoming, diversified establishment, without being overly decorated.  Too much decor can defeat the purpose of it being a bar.  If I spill something, I don’t want to feel bad about it.

I prefer a 2:1 female to male distribution (at least) to keep things lively.  The large majority of my business network is male.  I don’t need it to be the same way in the bar as well.  I’m there for a reason.

None of that Cheers bullshit.  I don’t want to know everyone in the bar, nor do I want to know everyone’s name.  Part of the appeal of any social establishment, bar or otherwise, is the serendipity involved in meeting new people that you would otherwise not have the opportunity to speak with, or the courage to start a random conversation with.

An abundant selection of both domestic and foreign beer listen on a menu with both price and geographic origin.  No fruity, vibrant colored, sugared down drinks that are mostly water being offered to me as “today’s special.”  They are clearly served everyday, and there is usually nothing special about them.

A practiced deejay, preferably spinning vinyl, playing an eclectic mix of old and new tunes varying in genre.  The “average” music listener should only recognize a maximum of 40% of the tracks.  The rest should be either mash-ups, b-sides or simply rare excerpts.  There should never be a specified 80s night.  If there is a band playing, they are allowed up to, but no more than, one 80s cover.

A consistent supply of bar snacks (pretzels, peanuts, etc.), with the option to order actual bar food.  I understand keeping the kitchen open can be burdensome on the staff, so keeping the bar open to 12:00 is acceptable.

No doorman with his “clipboard,” which is usually an empty piece of computer paper anyway.  The bar should automatically except a diversified crowd of ages and gender, without one person dictating the flow of personality that decides to enter.  The only rule I can think of for exile while in the bar is fighting and / or too much cologne, decided by majority vote according to the current patrons

An equal separation of bar activities, including, but limited to, pool, darts, foosball, air hockey and karaoke.  This limits the guy playing pool from jamming the back of his pool stick into your ribs every time he decides to take his turn.  If karaoke is an option at the bar, all songs by Journey and Fleetwood Mac post-1977² should be banned.

The bar should have active and sufficient air control.  A sweaty environment, in most cases, automatically makes everything less fun.

No credit car minimums.  How I decide to give a bar my money should be up to me.

And finally, a one-word, catchy name.  I don’t want to have to say it more than once when I’m giving directions, or spell it wrong and type it more than once if it’s through text message.  Von in New York is a perfect name.

What’s your ideal bar?

           

1. I’m experimenting with different writing styles and themes, just to mix things up.  Plus, I wanted to reference that quote from On The Road. [↩]
2. Everything after Rumours is awful. [↩]

Comments / Jun 29.09 / Culture, Life, Literature, Writing / by alexjmann

Daily Routines

There was a point when Daily Routines was one of my favorite daily reads.  If you’re unfamiliar with the site, it gave a brief look, sometimes first hand account, of how “writers, artists, and other interesting people organize their days.”

The reason I found the site and its stories so appealing was because of its brutal honesty.  It wasn’t bullshit self-help or advice how-to, but it was practical insight into how interesting people arranged their days around their enjoyable crafts.

The site has not been updated since February, but I stumbled across two old emails where I attempted to contribute daily routines to their collection.  They were never posted on the site, but I’ve pasted them below:

Jimi Hendrix

No one could predict his daily routine, because no one knew where he slept.  He still had a full suite of rooms in an East Side hotel, and he occasionally moved his guitars and clothes into a motor lodge nearer the Record Plant, but more often he was with one of his ladies, who sewed for him and cooked for him and took drugs with him and slept with him.

Usually he awakened in the early afternoon.  After breakfast he did some drugs, usually grass, which was a constant companion for him.  Then he would go shopping or drift somewhere in a limousine or cab to visit friends.  Maybe he would eat again, about 10pm; maybe not.  Jimi didn’t eat often, keep a flat, muscled stomach that always made him look as if he needed a meal.

source: The Jimi Hendrix Experience by Jerry Hopkins, pg 169

Abraham Lincoln

President Lincoln followed a daily routine, which varied according to the exigencies of the war and the weather. “He was an early riser and was apt to be at his toil before the humblest clerk on the national pay-rolls had eaten his breakfast. That of the Chief Magistrate was very frequently brought to him in his office that he might lose no time, for now, as always, from his log-house cradle, he was a hard student,” wrote aide William Stoddard.

Food played little role in his schedule. “Mr. Lincoln’s habits were like himself odd & wholy irregular. He loved nothing and ate mechanically. I have seen him sit down at the table and never unless recalled to his senses, would he think of food,” said his sister-in-law, Elizabeth Edwards.

source: Mr. Lincoln’s White House

Does anyone have any insight into why this site isn’t being updated anymore?  I’ve emailed the contact information on the site, without any response.  If it’s a matter of the site manager not having the resources or the time to keep the site up to date, I’d be willing to help out.

           

Comments / Jun 26.09 / Arts, Culture, Writing / by alexjmann

The Burden of Legalities

Discussing and agreeing formally to the equity distribution of your company is always something to take care of earlier rather than later.  It can be a touchy subject, especially if certain people in the venture value their contributions higher than others¹.  It can get even touchier when the venture begins to develop traction.

The best thing to do is to figure it out now.

Obviously, a large majority of this depends on the relationship of the partners before the venture was formed.  If there is even a small lack of trust, you will fail.  The venture is going to work or it’s not, and even the smallest amount of equity conflict will ensure a rocky road.

For my company, myself and the other initial partner were originally 50 / 50 on equity.  We brought on another full-time developer (a non-founding member) and agreed to grant him a third of the equity.  The venture, agreed to through email, was now 33 / 33 / 33.

Currently, because of a few transitioning factors on my team, we have currently aligned a vesting schedule with different percentages for each member, which was agreed to upon each individual’s past / future contribution to the entity.  The vesting schedule we have agreed to is 25% per year, for four years, where each member of the team will receive a 25% of their decided upon vested amount.  The remainder of equity not assigned to the current members of the team, including myself, is to be distributed to future employees, investors or agreed stakeholders.

The legalities of formal entrepreneurship can be the most boring aspect of the venture.  However, it’s also a necessary step in gaining significant traction when revenues begin to compile.

Here are a few helpful, relevant resources on vesting and forming your legal entity:

• Venture Hacks Archives (specifically the sections on equity, lawyers and vesting)
• Paul Graham’s Equity Equation
• Startup 101’s Misunderstanding Capitalization
• Sample legal documents: Operating Agreement, Employment Agreement, Consulting Agreement, Confidentiality Agreement

Disclaimer:  This is not legal advice.  This is simply a brief reflection on my experience in dealing with legalities for my venture, which includes researching and speaking with lawyers in the space.  If you’d like more details on anything I have discussed above, you can email me.

           

1. This should be a early red flag of problems ahead. [↩]

Comments / Jun 25.09 / Business, Design, Entrepreneurship, Management / by alexjmann

Attention Deficit: The Album

I remember when I was a patient music consumer and listener.  After ripping off that impossible plastic wrap, I’d absorb the sounds of the fresh, physical CD I just purchased in one sitting while I flipped through the cover pamphlet and admire the crisp, yet to be faded, cover art.  I’d often rush to the phone, or maybe AIM, after the initial listen to tell one of my friends that they had to buy the CD.  If they didn’t want to buy, maybe I’d burn them a copy.

That was way back in an era I’ll call pre-Napster, and a period of listening which I am content to have been a part of.  This was when I regularly, often obsessively, purchased physical music.  I also feverishly experienced the tunes in their arguable “proper” long-form, start to finish.

Recently, I’ve been experimenting with my listening habits and attempting to listen to albums in their complete form.  I must admit that I leave the listening experience, if I make it, after the last song fades out, with a different feeling than I do when I jump from song to song.  Not better or worse.  But, roughly, with a more wholesome message of what the artist was attempting to convey.

The only long form media I still consistently experience in entirety are books and the occasional movie.  Besides that, I absorb my entertainment media in bits and chunks.  In a 10 minute time span I listened to a song on Hype Machine, watched a clip on Funny or Die and a music video on Disco Belle, and learned about a handful of new, upcoming artists along my mini-journey.

The ability to experience this much creative content in such a micro-time span is enjoyingly overwhelming.  Although, it’s created a slight attention-deficit in terms of the longing for something I can hold on to for more than one song.  For example, I often feel that I owe it to the artist to at least listen to a few in a row.

The way we experience music isn’t a result of quality.  Actually, I’d argue it’s just the opposite.  It’s a result of quantity and distribution.  Music listening has transformed into a low commitment habit, similar to Twitter, where the enjoyment comes from the short-form of listening itself.

My question, or reflection, is that now that we experience media in bite size chunks across different platforms, are we simply hunting for a replacement to the album?  I find myself at least looking for that feeling that a complete album leaves me with.  Are we jumping from artist to artist because we’re bored, or because we’re looking for something else?

I believe the success of the music industry, and any digital medium for that matter, will be in duplicating the long-form experience of the album in bite size junks that can still appeal to our attention deficits.  That’s something I’d pay for, either with adverising or cash.  The hard part, I suppose, is figuring it out.

tqheu63r4m

           

Comments / Jun 23.09 / Arts, Branding, Culture, Economics, Music / by alexjmann

The Common Path

“For things at a common destination there is a common path. Not always easy to see. But there.” – Cormac McCarthy, No Country For Old Men

If you listen to experts¹ discussing and analyzing the current economic environment, you’ll notice the coining, calling and prophisizing of a “historical turning point.”  Meaning, we’re at a point, right now, where everything that’s played out in the past, in the markets and otherwise, simply has no effect on the future outcome of the economy.

In academia, derived from mostly mathematics and physics, this is known as a “random walk.”  Applied to financial markets, it’s typically referred to as the “random walk hypothesis.”  Basically, the hypothesis says that each individual move of a stock is random in the short-term, and that the future ticks upward and downward are unrelated to how the stock performed previously.

Although I tend to be skeptical of a large proportion of modern financial theory², especially those that have origins in purely the research setting (without real application), the strategic takeaway from the hypothesis as applied to our current economic situation is that investor rationality is questionable, especially in times of crisis.  Just because they are running away (or selling), doesn’t mean they are running away with merit.

The contradiction of the hypothesis, specifically when it’s paired up against the supposed investor rationality, is exactly what makes it an appealing guidance for decision making, both in business and life, in times of turmoil.  If you take a look at all of the financial crises the world has experienced in the past 100 years, there is a common theme with most of the successful investors: they were buying aggressively.

Why were they buying if everyone else was selling?  What did they know, that no one else did?

It’s sort of like the “be greedy when others are fearful” quote from Buffett.  Just because everyone is running away in one direction, it doesn’t mean they are doing so with qualified merit, or more importantly, with rationality.  But, it does give you a reason to start running the opposite way before everyone else turns around or has a chance to catch up.  That’s why I’m generally optimistic in this, or any, period of sustained fright.  This may be a golden opportunity, especially for those my age, to establish themselves on the ground floor of anything, with confidence that things will improve, or at least evolve.

Generally, if your conviction is loose enough to drag you down when everyone else is falling, then the decision was a mistake in the first place.  However, the seldom “golden” decisions are often when everyone else is looking the other way.  Because, profitable opportunities have a common destination and common path, even if the historical patterns are irrelevant.  Remember they are there, but not always easy to see.

           

1. Real experts.  Those have been in the game for 20 – 30 + years.  Not the idiots on CNBC [↩]
2. Ironically, because the random walk is generally thought of as being skeptical [↩]

Comments / Jun 22.09 / Economics, Entrepreneurship, Finance, Investing, Strategy / by alexjmann

Wasted Time

The entrepreneurial investment decision makers, in most cases venture capitalists, create just as many filters to get in initial contact as they do when judging your business development.  I spoke to an early stage venture capitalist today with a solid track record who told me that he spends approximately 20% of his time listening to filtered entrepreneurs pitch him concepts.  He said that one arena where entrepreneurs fail is in wasting time of their counter-parties, including investors, customers and related stakeholders.

He wasn’t portraying ignorance (and he wasn’t referring to me).  But, his basic point was that there are actions an entrepreneur should take, but usually don’t, that can make any counter-party conversation more efficient, resulting in less wasted time.

My intuitive response was that some wasted time should be expected.  Right?

The obvious answer is, yes, of course.  In any creative industry, there is a good amount of trial and error based on ambiguous market judgments and assumptions.  But still, in any creative industry, absolutes do exist–you just need to hunt them down.  That’s how an entrepreneur is resourceful.

The quicker you can find them, the more result oriented your meetings with everyone will be.  Simple examples include citing the size of your market, the identity of your niche target market and the features customers have committed to pay for.

Stating these items in your pitch, or at least holding them in your back pocket for when questions arise, will result in less wasted time.  Less wasted means more efficient conversations.  Efficient conversations means traction.  And traction leads to those golden milestones called results.

           

Comments / Jun 18.09 / Entrepreneurship, Marketing, Psychology, Venture Capital / by alexjmann

Simplicity

“Simplicity” is often confused for “ease.”  In common language and conversation, we hear these two words used interchangeably.  What we forget is that what’s often “simple” is rarely easy.  However, things that are “easy” can be “simple.”

I said this on Twitter yesterday after finishing up Buffett: The Making of an American Capitalist by Roger Lowenstein, which inspired the thought.  Warren Buffett’s complete lifestyle and investing philosophy was plain and simple.  But, it was anything but easy.

As a family man, Buffett was described as the “boy” of his household.  He was completely dependent on his wife for anything outside of business.  He had a love for Cherry Coke, McDonald’s for lunch, and once ordered an ice cream sundae for breakfast while on travel.

But, unlike most fund managers, he slaved hours upon hours over quarterly and annual reports of companies, never relying on external research.  Buffett was his own computer, performing all valuation calculations in his head.

Buffett sought value in everything he did.  His incredible, long-term performance has remained simple, as he hasn’t relied on tools of financial innovation, including derivatives or leverage.  His investment advice was often playful and humorous.  He once gave an example of a man with a “lifetime punch card.”

Every time he bought a stock he punched a hole.  When the card had twenty holes he was done—no more investing for life.  Obviously, the investor would filter out every idea but the best.

Warren had the reputation, and still does, of being somewhat of an oracle.  He doesn’t trade on inside tips, but people just sensed that he “knew.”  Always logical, he was never moved by faith–only by facts.  His confidence is so sturdy he’s rarely doubted.

Even at a net worth of $37 billion, he still lives off a mere $100,000 salary.  He once ran from 61st Street to 79th Street in Manhattan in his business clothes, simply because he “wanted his freedom.”  And when asked about his fortune, Buffett said:

I can have anything I want that money will buy.  But I always could.

Lowenstein wrapped up the book well, relating Buffett’s way of managing any relationship the same way he treated an investment relationship:

Though fearful of hostility, he knew what many are slow to learn–that a sustained demonstration of good faith is apt to be returned in kind, if it is not undermined by any conflicting behavior.

           

Comments / Jun 16.09 / Culture, Investing, Literature / by alexjmann

A Post-College Memorandum

Entering institutional academia at the height of our adolescence is the route the majority of us abide to post-high school.  It’s the path I took (and recently completed), which I assume is similar for most of us.  Although I’ve recently questioned the necessity of a formal college education, I do believe that the short period (4-6 years) after high school is when we’re most permeable to intellect growth.

Reflecting on my years in college, I’ve determined that the only rule is that there are no rules, regardless of what any authority figure will preach to you.  Education is a certainty for survival, but the choice of educational medium should be subjective.

I’ve taken a moment to look over my shoulder and piece together the wisdom I’ve learned during college, which may come off academic-based, but is cross-applicable depending on the educational platform you choose.

–

Respectfully challenge individuals you aren’t supposed to.  It breeds respects. Authority is typically an illusion.  The easiest people to attack and challenge include our peers and those younger and less developed than us, which results in nothing substantial.  The battles worth fighting are with those that don’t expect it.  Academia can prove to be a very narrow focuses environment, and there’s a good chance you know things your professors don’t.  Whether you “win” or “lose” is irrelevant.  It’s the fight that counts.

The most valuable advice derives from those who don’t rely on you. The quickest people to give you advice are those that have the self-interest to do so, including your parents and close friends.  Advice is typically preliminary to a thought or action of change, and people are scared of change.  Why?  Because change can alter the power distribution in any relationship.  The best advice is unbiased advice, especially when your choice of action won’t have an immediate effect on the person who’s giving it.

Lifestyle balance is crucial, even if it doesn’t rest in the middle. The over achievers will always think the slackers don’t have enough discipline, and the slackers will always think the over achievers don’t have enough fun.  That’s completely besides the point.  A combination of both is crucial, while progress in one always stimulates the other.  To think the paradigm of work and play lies in the middle is foolish, and probably unproductive.  Choose what works for you.

Let your passion, drive or craft be your identity, not your school / major / GPA. The sooner you can introduce yourself without using the same criteria every other college student uses, the better.  The only time I was ever impressed by this is when I met the Stanford grad who double majored in physics and mathematics, which happened to be what the student lived and died for.  A college major might give you validation, but a professional hobby gives you purpose.  When you grasp that identity, you’ll standout from the condensed masses.

Justifying your hustle is subjective.  Working in between the lines is what’s differential. Everyone does their “job.”  Everyone goes to classes.  We all are creatures of habit feeling especially safe with repetitive starts and ends of the work day.  However, I’ve found that the true hustlers, strivers and leaders, are the ones who practice when the game ends.  If you’re doing it right, you won’t notice the game ever ended.  Don’t mistake hard work for intelligence, but don’t discount it either.

Benchmarking can be discouraging if it’s based solely on micro-communities. The easiest way to be discouraged is by benchmarking your own personal progress based on homogeneous micro-communities.  If you’re a college student and you engage with blogs by other college students, there’s a good chance their lives are going to seem a lot more exciting and enlightening than yours.  Remember that everyone highlights their highs and discounts their lows.  And, being interesting and worldly is often subjective.  If you start writing publicly, you’ll seem just as interesting.

Make experimentation a habit, with both people and subject matter. Routine is too easy, both with who we interact with and with the subject matter we dive into habitually.  Active curiosity allows for more experimental learning, where you’ll run into interesting people and subjects simply because it wasn’t planned.  Getting in the habit of experimentation can lead to initial discomfort, but eventually results in excitement.

Strengths and skills can prove to be temperamental.  Massage your weaknesses. A piece of advice I’ve given students is that if you’re more right brained (random, intuitive, “big picture”) to take courses that are left-brained focused (analytical, rational, “little pieces”), and vice versa.  While I believe we need both to succeed (with arguably more right-brain), we’re more likely to engage in activities outside of classes that our strengths are inclined too.  Massaging our lows, or focusing on our weak side in a more structured setting like class, is an easy way to improve.

Inspiration is unique to the individual.  Treat your craft as a working portrait. A useful exercise of mine in battling artistic blocks is to simply engage with a medium that is completely unrelated to the medium I’m working with.  If I’m having difficulty writing, I’ll look at art or music videos.  Finding inspiration to create anything can be burdensome if it’s forced.  The best way to let it flow is to not focus on it.  Inspiration is an art of its own.  Treat it like one.

Experience reigns over theory.  Simplicity reigns over complexity. The best way to learn is to do.  No amount of theoretical classroom work will ever replace actively entering a field of work (unless your field is research).  This is one arena of the formal education sector that is lacking.  Simple experience of practicality of what we learn in the actual field will always be more effective than performing complex, and often irrelevant, lab experiments

–

If there is one practice that wraps all of these concepts up, it’s the ability to reflect.  No one piece of advice, including mine, will be the key to educational success.  But, the ability to reflect on your own experience, especially failures, is a stepping stone to getting there.

           

Comments / Jun 12.09 / Advice, College, Education, Life, Philosophy / by alexjmann

The Hardest Thing…

The hardest thing is to create a productive schedule for yourself, especially when you realize that no one else is going to give you one.

The hardest thing is to ignore the words of the naysayers, even when the thought of halting everything sounds soothing.

The hardest thing is to pick up new skills on our own time, even if the usage or results don’t pay off immediately.

The hardest thing is to quit routine and dependence, even if the shock of self-reliance creates a sense of self-doubt.

But, what I’ve found, is that most of that doesn’t matter.  Because, very few people get what they deserve.

From concept to market, holding to lifting or walking to sprinting, the only actual hard thing is to keep moving.  The excuses we make for ourselves are typically not excuses; they’re just mental road blocks we create to avoid temporary struggle, while we ignore the prize of individuality at the end of the road.

           

Comments / Jun 10.09 / Direction, Entrepreneurship, Life, Philosophy / by alexjmann