Currently I've got a swaddle of bandages around my head, which from a distance makes me look like I'm wearing an extra-large sweatband. Upon closer inspection, it appears more like I've had a recent lobotomy. Unfortunately the truth isn't nearly as exciting.
Over the summer, while on that cross country road trip, one of the piercings on my right ear started balloning up. It was a keloid, about the size of a Skittle, just hanging out behind my ear. After dutifully soaking it in epsom salt, it went away but never fully disappeared. Flash forward a few months and quite a few "what is that thing?!" comments later, and I finally consulted some doctor friends who said it had to be surgically removed.
Today was that special day.
The entire process will have taken four hospital visits -- a general practitioner to identify the problem, a visit to the specialist, an appointment for the actual surgery, and then a follow up next week to check on the sutures. In sum, the earring cost $35 to pierce three years ago, maybe $20 since for various cups/salts/things to make it feel better, and then a few hundred -- if not a thousand -- in medical bills. That's the price you pay for sticking pieces of metal in your body. The best part is, this exact same location had given me problems before. I just stubbornly resisted what my body was telling me, kept a hoop in there for years, and then finally removed it. Only to repierce it when that keloid faded away. Now look at me.
Two summers ago I got a mallet finger, another costly experience. The lesson here is to just stop doing things because any visit to the hospital is a costly one, even with insurance. Which somehow I magically have. My mom, and Ben Franklin like to say, "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." (Did everybody go through a huge Poor Richard's Almanac phase in middle school? I assume so.) Actually my mom doesn't say that at all. She just says when I'm older and my body falls apart, then I'll see the wisdom of her words. And regret my hard charging lifestyle.
In other news, I also got the results for my first physical in years back. I have the health of an eighteen year old and I haven't gotten so many superlatives on a report cards since, well, never.
I'm healthy as shit! The key is obviously twelve hours of sleep a day, low stress, no exercise, and staying indoors a lot. The doctor did say I should cut down on my sugar though, but we knew that already.
Up above, I used "swaddle" incorrectly but I'm all about it now because we were using it (in context) the other day to talk about babies. Yes, babies.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
The Takeover
I am straight hooked on Shark Tank. At Henry's urging, I watched an episode at his house and later I went home and blew through everything available online. The premise is that entrepreneurs come in front of five self-made m(b)illionaires and pitch them in an attempt to get funding. Generally they'll ask for a few thousand dollars in exchange for a percentage of their company.
Most of the ideas run the gamut from the mundane to well, the more mundane. Wine appliances, trash bag covers, jewelry lines, chocolate covered pretzels, sports equipment, etc. One thing that initially stuck out to me was how non-revolutionary the ideas were. Nobody was coming up with an instant "wow" idea. Rare were even the "oh, original!" ideas. But some of these companies were already making six figures in sales -- in some cases much more. The lesson was that bringing a product from idea to quasi-profitability was more about effort and vision than anything else.
This may seem obvious to you successful folk, but the work generally accounts for more than the idea. Plus proper execution of course, that's always important.
Watching how the sharks respond to individual pitches is the main appeal of the show. These are business people who have already succeeded on a grand scale -- speaking monetarily -- and they are very good at asking incisive questions. I already feel like a better businessman just from watching six episodes. After the aspiring entrepreneurs' short presentations, the sharks dig in to focus on business models, distribution plans, marketing dollars currently used, how the current valuation is being justified, patents / intellectual property owned, and then the all important "what would you do with my money?"
What these sharks are often looking for, aside from just the idea, is people they want to work with. The passionate, the responsible, the charming, the driven. Sometimes the sharks don't care about the product as much as they do about the person in front of them. As Mark Cuban says, he's not interested in a "wantrepreneur," someone who wants to be told what to do. He wants to get behind someone who is already pushing themselves, and just wants his help to get to the next level.
Nobody's going to help you get from step one to three, but if you can reach level five all by yourself, you'll have the track record to prove to someone with connections that you're worth their investment. And then you'll be invited onto the high speed elevator zooming toward the penthouse.
The sharks are also very good at tearing something apart, declaring that an idea is either implemented incorrectly or simply has no future. Of course, some of the stuff that gets funded is mind boggling. I won't spoil anything but trust me, Shark Tank is a great watch to gain some insight into what a venture capitalist meeting might be like. I know this: When I come to you to finance my fool's gold idea, I'll be much more prepared and ready. Please have your checkbooks open.
When you asked eighteen year old Jon what he wanted to be, he would have declared, "entrepreneur." Many of my dad's friends were entrepreneurs and I figured that was the way to go. In fact, any college that didn't offer a business major -- as opposed to just an economics one -- was automatically off my list. (Of course, most of the top tier universities with stellar undergrad business programs had preemptively shunned me. Damn you GPA.) Back then I really had no idea what being an entrepreneur meant. I thought it was just about starting random businesses, printing money, and then keeping that ball rolling.
Over fifteen years later, few of my friends are entrepreneurs. Most of them are in career jobs, many of them having now worked their way closer to the top. Some of them did evolve into entrepreneurs though, quitting their white collar jobs to start web companies, boutique design firms, and clothing lines. However, with the exception of one pair of friends/acquaintances, everyone segued from something they were already trained for.
The exception was the two friends who started up a boba shop about a year after they graduated. Both were smart engineers with prime jobs and it seemed semi-crazy to toss aside their hard earned degrees to go into retail. Their early days were dicey -- as early days always are -- but now they have three stores and they've beaten the odds. I should ask them what they think about that experience now.
One of my friends said she needs to date someone who's a hustler. They need to have that go-getter attitude and drive. She's having a hard time fulfilling that requirement.
Most of the ideas run the gamut from the mundane to well, the more mundane. Wine appliances, trash bag covers, jewelry lines, chocolate covered pretzels, sports equipment, etc. One thing that initially stuck out to me was how non-revolutionary the ideas were. Nobody was coming up with an instant "wow" idea. Rare were even the "oh, original!" ideas. But some of these companies were already making six figures in sales -- in some cases much more. The lesson was that bringing a product from idea to quasi-profitability was more about effort and vision than anything else.
This may seem obvious to you successful folk, but the work generally accounts for more than the idea. Plus proper execution of course, that's always important.
Watching how the sharks respond to individual pitches is the main appeal of the show. These are business people who have already succeeded on a grand scale -- speaking monetarily -- and they are very good at asking incisive questions. I already feel like a better businessman just from watching six episodes. After the aspiring entrepreneurs' short presentations, the sharks dig in to focus on business models, distribution plans, marketing dollars currently used, how the current valuation is being justified, patents / intellectual property owned, and then the all important "what would you do with my money?"
What these sharks are often looking for, aside from just the idea, is people they want to work with. The passionate, the responsible, the charming, the driven. Sometimes the sharks don't care about the product as much as they do about the person in front of them. As Mark Cuban says, he's not interested in a "wantrepreneur," someone who wants to be told what to do. He wants to get behind someone who is already pushing themselves, and just wants his help to get to the next level.
Nobody's going to help you get from step one to three, but if you can reach level five all by yourself, you'll have the track record to prove to someone with connections that you're worth their investment. And then you'll be invited onto the high speed elevator zooming toward the penthouse.
The sharks are also very good at tearing something apart, declaring that an idea is either implemented incorrectly or simply has no future. Of course, some of the stuff that gets funded is mind boggling. I won't spoil anything but trust me, Shark Tank is a great watch to gain some insight into what a venture capitalist meeting might be like. I know this: When I come to you to finance my fool's gold idea, I'll be much more prepared and ready. Please have your checkbooks open.
When you asked eighteen year old Jon what he wanted to be, he would have declared, "entrepreneur." Many of my dad's friends were entrepreneurs and I figured that was the way to go. In fact, any college that didn't offer a business major -- as opposed to just an economics one -- was automatically off my list. (Of course, most of the top tier universities with stellar undergrad business programs had preemptively shunned me. Damn you GPA.) Back then I really had no idea what being an entrepreneur meant. I thought it was just about starting random businesses, printing money, and then keeping that ball rolling.
Over fifteen years later, few of my friends are entrepreneurs. Most of them are in career jobs, many of them having now worked their way closer to the top. Some of them did evolve into entrepreneurs though, quitting their white collar jobs to start web companies, boutique design firms, and clothing lines. However, with the exception of one pair of friends/acquaintances, everyone segued from something they were already trained for.
The exception was the two friends who started up a boba shop about a year after they graduated. Both were smart engineers with prime jobs and it seemed semi-crazy to toss aside their hard earned degrees to go into retail. Their early days were dicey -- as early days always are -- but now they have three stores and they've beaten the odds. I should ask them what they think about that experience now.
One of my friends said she needs to date someone who's a hustler. They need to have that go-getter attitude and drive. She's having a hard time fulfilling that requirement.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Dolla dolla bill y'all
During half time of last week's Celtics game, this Chinese acrobat named Red Panda came out to perform. Her act is balancing on a tall unicycle and then flipping bowls onto her head. She starts with just a few and then ramps up to an unbelievable five at a time. This ESPN article describes the way her act captures the lackadaisical half time crowd's attention. By the end of her routine, Henry and I were cheering like she was the female Jeremy Lin. Here's video of her during her final flip. The progression from two to five is exciting-er but this is pretty good just by itself.
We were trying to figure out how much Red Panda got paid. The answer lies in the article: about $2,000-$3,000 per show. Let's say she does a minimum of a hundred shows a year, that's a nice bit of money. The downside of her job has to be the constant traveling and maybe the tiresome routine of doing the same thing over and over again. My thinking was why wouldn't she just do fifty shows a year and live comfortably instead of jetting around all the time?
Well, I forgot about the grind. No, not the negative grind, the semi-positive one. I forgot to factor in what happens when she can't do her act anymore. When her body ages, when she consistently starts missing a few bowls, when she gets burned out, when something happens and she stops performing and won't be paid a cent.
We were trying to figure out how much Red Panda got paid. The answer lies in the article: about $2,000-$3,000 per show. Let's say she does a minimum of a hundred shows a year, that's a nice bit of money. The downside of her job has to be the constant traveling and maybe the tiresome routine of doing the same thing over and over again. My thinking was why wouldn't she just do fifty shows a year and live comfortably instead of jetting around all the time?
Well, I forgot about the grind. No, not the negative grind, the semi-positive one. I forgot to factor in what happens when she can't do her act anymore. When her body ages, when she consistently starts missing a few bowls, when she gets burned out, when something happens and she stops performing and won't be paid a cent.
Much like the NBA athletes she shares the court with (sorta), she has to cash in on her talent while she can. She chooses not to do just the minimum, but perhaps two hundred shows a year, working at max capacity before she's forced out, or maybe saves enough to retire. I was trying to figure out if I could do that. Saddle up for fifteen years, churn out the money, and then look back.
Rhetorical question, obviously.
In contrast, this article, "I Was a Warehouse Wage Slave," is about workers who, unlike Red Panda, have no such unique skills. A human rights reporter for Mother Jones goes undercover in an online retailer's warehouse and tells us what lies behind the efficiency of low prices and free shipping. My body ached just from reading her story.
Sometimes I'm certain that I'm only a desperate heave away from that kind of job, and I wonder how long I would last. A day, a week, a month? I've done some boring ass shit for a long time, but nothing that required me to be under such draconian supervision. On paper though, nothing would necessarily set me apart from most of those workers. Unless you count WPM, then I'd outclass them all.
If you are into chess history even a little, you may already know about the Polgar sisters. They were each prodigies, born and bred to destroy others at the (real) beautiful game. I've been following them for awhile and "The Grandmaster Experiment" is an interesting article from Psychology Today about how they were raised to be the best. All you need to do is start young apparently. Tiger Mom knew this. Turul Dad, Laszlo Polgar, sought out a wife specifically to fulfill his theories.
Rhetorical question, obviously.
In contrast, this article, "I Was a Warehouse Wage Slave," is about workers who, unlike Red Panda, have no such unique skills. A human rights reporter for Mother Jones goes undercover in an online retailer's warehouse and tells us what lies behind the efficiency of low prices and free shipping. My body ached just from reading her story.
Sometimes I'm certain that I'm only a desperate heave away from that kind of job, and I wonder how long I would last. A day, a week, a month? I've done some boring ass shit for a long time, but nothing that required me to be under such draconian supervision. On paper though, nothing would necessarily set me apart from most of those workers. Unless you count WPM, then I'd outclass them all.
If you are into chess history even a little, you may already know about the Polgar sisters. They were each prodigies, born and bred to destroy others at the (real) beautiful game. I've been following them for awhile and "The Grandmaster Experiment" is an interesting article from Psychology Today about how they were raised to be the best. All you need to do is start young apparently. Tiger Mom knew this. Turul Dad, Laszlo Polgar, sought out a wife specifically to fulfill his theories.
"After studying the biographies of hundreds of great intellectuals, [Laszlo] had identified a common theme -- early and intensive specialization in a particular subject. Laszlo thought the public school system could be relied upon to produce mediocre minds. In contrast, he believed he could turn any healthy child into a prodigy. He had already published a book on the subject, Bring Up Genius!, and he needed a wife willing to jump on board."
I am going to raise a champion one day. Since I hope to remain eternally unfettered and single, it will likely have to be one of your donated children. (George, if you have twins, I claim one. If you have triplets, we'll talk about it. If you have quadruplets or more, Mom's gonna faint.) Despite it not being my biological progeny, I'll feel a strong measure of pride just the same. Strive for the top of the charts I say. You provide the love, I'll provide the training regimen.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Muddy Eyes, Half Hearts, Can't Win
There's a lot of things I should be doing right now. Like handling my medical insurance paperwork, gathering together taxes for reporting (or not reporting), researching new cars for my mom, taking care of some Chinese-to-English translation for more paperwork, forecasting and organizing business stuff, the list goes on. But instead of any of that, I'm watching freestyle videos. Rewatching stuff I've seen before but forgotten about. Juice versus Supernatural. Supernatural versus Craig G. Biggie on street corners. Eminem in danky apartments, picking his nose before rapping. Life will carry on, music is now.
I went on an appointment spree last week. Dentist, primary care doctor, ear surgeon, with another round coming up. On those days, that was the one thing I did. "What did you do today?" Went to the doctor. "And then?" I told you, I went to the doctor! For most people, an appointment is part of your day, not all of it -- so I hear. How do you productive members of society do it? Do you drive faster than me? Have a magical genie assistant? Learn life skills in some college course I skipped out on? Graduate from the Boy/Girl Scouts?
Most of the people I know are really busy. Some of them are also faux-busy. Like they like to sound busy but they aren't really doing much of anything most of the time. I can spot the faux-busy people from miles away. I got a radar for sloth. Most people would probably be insulted if they were called out on being faux-busy. I'm not judging though, just observing. It's hard to pinpoint who I think is the right amount of busy. The person who balances work, social life, family, leisure time, growth, and everything else in a melange of not too hot, not too cold -- a perfect bowl of porridge. When I figure out who I think is the prime example of busy, I'm going to interview them so we can all gain some insight. I will also be creating a "busy/not busy" chart in my spare time to slot everyone in. Feel free to campaign.
Of course, how to account for the fact that I am at one point of the "not busy" scale by having cut out 90% of most things, yet am not doing much either? Clearly busy versus not busy will not be a measure of accomplishing things, just general business. The productivity scale will have to be separate.
Note, the new phrase I'm trying to work into my daily use: "champagne and campaign," as repeatedly said by Jalen Rose on his weekly Grantland podcast. I think it means being drunk and you know, thinking your game is good. Or maybe getting drunk so your game gets good. Either way, everyone, champagne and campaign!
Responsibility makes you an adult. Or rather, taking care of responsibilities. Actually, maturity also makes you an adult. Age certainly isn't a defining factor. That's only in the eyes of the law. As a younger person, I thought everyone over a certain age was an adult. That is obviously not true. I wonder if adultness is also mostly a mentality.
You aren't an adult until you handle your shit. Not even like take care of your life right now, at this moment, but taking care of the soon to be future. (The distant future is too far away for anyone to take care of, much less humans.) I've always been a "when it happens I'll deal with it" kind of person. Otherwise known as, tada, a child.
My digital life, on the other hand, is impeccable. One of my URLs was expiring, I got that transferred over right quick within a few minutes. My Flickr account winding down? Re-upped! Emails and passwords updated, links organized, torrents running smoothly. I am the master of the two by three area that encompasses my desk and laptop. As long as the transition to a non-corporeal world happens soon, I'll be alright.
There's probably a lesson in here about prioritizing and focusing on the stuff that matters. But hang on, I gotta rewind this one battle, it's too damn good. "When you go back home to Indiana, get Mike Tyson out the slammer!"
I went on an appointment spree last week. Dentist, primary care doctor, ear surgeon, with another round coming up. On those days, that was the one thing I did. "What did you do today?" Went to the doctor. "And then?" I told you, I went to the doctor! For most people, an appointment is part of your day, not all of it -- so I hear. How do you productive members of society do it? Do you drive faster than me? Have a magical genie assistant? Learn life skills in some college course I skipped out on? Graduate from the Boy/Girl Scouts?
Most of the people I know are really busy. Some of them are also faux-busy. Like they like to sound busy but they aren't really doing much of anything most of the time. I can spot the faux-busy people from miles away. I got a radar for sloth. Most people would probably be insulted if they were called out on being faux-busy. I'm not judging though, just observing. It's hard to pinpoint who I think is the right amount of busy. The person who balances work, social life, family, leisure time, growth, and everything else in a melange of not too hot, not too cold -- a perfect bowl of porridge. When I figure out who I think is the prime example of busy, I'm going to interview them so we can all gain some insight. I will also be creating a "busy/not busy" chart in my spare time to slot everyone in. Feel free to campaign.
Of course, how to account for the fact that I am at one point of the "not busy" scale by having cut out 90% of most things, yet am not doing much either? Clearly busy versus not busy will not be a measure of accomplishing things, just general business. The productivity scale will have to be separate.
Note, the new phrase I'm trying to work into my daily use: "champagne and campaign," as repeatedly said by Jalen Rose on his weekly Grantland podcast. I think it means being drunk and you know, thinking your game is good. Or maybe getting drunk so your game gets good. Either way, everyone, champagne and campaign!
Responsibility makes you an adult. Or rather, taking care of responsibilities. Actually, maturity also makes you an adult. Age certainly isn't a defining factor. That's only in the eyes of the law. As a younger person, I thought everyone over a certain age was an adult. That is obviously not true. I wonder if adultness is also mostly a mentality.
You aren't an adult until you handle your shit. Not even like take care of your life right now, at this moment, but taking care of the soon to be future. (The distant future is too far away for anyone to take care of, much less humans.) I've always been a "when it happens I'll deal with it" kind of person. Otherwise known as, tada, a child.
My digital life, on the other hand, is impeccable. One of my URLs was expiring, I got that transferred over right quick within a few minutes. My Flickr account winding down? Re-upped! Emails and passwords updated, links organized, torrents running smoothly. I am the master of the two by three area that encompasses my desk and laptop. As long as the transition to a non-corporeal world happens soon, I'll be alright.
There's probably a lesson in here about prioritizing and focusing on the stuff that matters. But hang on, I gotta rewind this one battle, it's too damn good. "When you go back home to Indiana, get Mike Tyson out the slammer!"
Sunday, March 11, 2012
To The Shore
This guy just presented at one of the TED conferences. His presentation was about how he's video taping one second of every day for the rest of his life and then compiling it into a video. It sounds semi-interesting in theory but watching one second of every day is pretty useless -- not to mention uncompelling. "If I live to 80, I will have a five-hour video that summarizes 50 years of my life." Who in the world is going to want to watch a five hour video of your life in one second bursts? I'm so bitter this made the TED cut. Remember when TED used to actually have great talks? Now I can't bear to watch 98% of them.
Of course, I'd still like to do one.
Someone should do for a TED talk on proper dental care. I just found out that I've been brushing my teeth all wrong for 30+ years. Keep in mind I used to date a dental hygienist. Clearly she was taking her frustrations out about our relationship by not telling me how to properly brush. Wicked.
Of course, I'd still like to do one.
Someone should do for a TED talk on proper dental care. I just found out that I've been brushing my teeth all wrong for 30+ years. Keep in mind I used to date a dental hygienist. Clearly she was taking her frustrations out about our relationship by not telling me how to properly brush. Wicked.
Here's what you're supposed to do: use a soft or ultra-soft bristled toothbrush and then go up and down on each tooth. Don't run across them like train tracks. Maybe move in little circles, but the key is to be gentle. You don't need to hear the rough scritch-scritch swish-swish sound. If you do, that's too hard. If you've been brushing with fury for too many years, there's a good chance your gums are in danger of receding -- like mine apparently are -- and that is no bueno.
From listening to a recent episode of Double X Gabfest, I got turned onto this article from Barbara Ehrenreich, "Pathologies of Hope (2007)," about the depressing Cult of Positivity surrounding well, America. She hones in specifically on cancer and how the constant exhortations to think positively and remain unflinchingly upbeat leaves little room to complain or express anger, which in turn creates an "empathy deficit."
From listening to a recent episode of Double X Gabfest, I got turned onto this article from Barbara Ehrenreich, "Pathologies of Hope (2007)," about the depressing Cult of Positivity surrounding well, America. She hones in specifically on cancer and how the constant exhortations to think positively and remain unflinchingly upbeat leaves little room to complain or express anger, which in turn creates an "empathy deficit."
She also makes a great point in "Welcome to Cancerland (2001)" about how the marketplace of breast cancer products are infantilizing. All those teddy bears, all those cutesy things, all those pink ribbons. All those walks. Okay, the walking is not childish, it's just annoying. Just donate your damn money already, no need to walk about it.
I was out on Ehrenreich after her underlying uppity attitudes expressed in Nickel and Dimed but now I'm back in after these articles. Overly positive people confuse me. I'm not good at matching that optimism and energy. I'm the guy people call to moan and complain, and I'm more than happy to throw in my bitchy two cents alongside. Of course this has to fit within five to seven minutes because that's how much time I have for phone calls. If you're willing to have your anger recorded however, I've got an hour via Skype.
Things I'd like to opine about: Invisible Children (vehemently anti), Redskins trading three first-rounders to move up four spots in the draft (insane), Love Inks (recommended band), a number of popular blogs about white people in foreign lands and how interesting these new cultures are (seriously?), Touré's Never Drank the Kool-Aid (totally forgot about it and now need to re-read), Terence McKenna (a drug addled kook but I should keep my mind open), The Wanted and One Direction (boy bands are back!), The Notebook (laughable and not a single tear shed), John Carter (I reiterate that Lynn Collins is one of the most versatile/beautiful people on Earth), Sara Blakely and her story of Spanx (I read and watched everything Blakely-related for at least an hour the other day), vasectomies (should be mandatory for everyone).
Tomorrow I'm going to Staples to watch Celtics versus Clippers. Barring a miracle, it's the last time I'll get to see Paul, Ray, KG, and Rondo together again. Oh sadness. I hope one of them will wave back at me.
I was out on Ehrenreich after her underlying uppity attitudes expressed in Nickel and Dimed but now I'm back in after these articles. Overly positive people confuse me. I'm not good at matching that optimism and energy. I'm the guy people call to moan and complain, and I'm more than happy to throw in my bitchy two cents alongside. Of course this has to fit within five to seven minutes because that's how much time I have for phone calls. If you're willing to have your anger recorded however, I've got an hour via Skype.
Things I'd like to opine about: Invisible Children (vehemently anti), Redskins trading three first-rounders to move up four spots in the draft (insane), Love Inks (recommended band), a number of popular blogs about white people in foreign lands and how interesting these new cultures are (seriously?), Touré's Never Drank the Kool-Aid (totally forgot about it and now need to re-read), Terence McKenna (a drug addled kook but I should keep my mind open), The Wanted and One Direction (boy bands are back!), The Notebook (laughable and not a single tear shed), John Carter (I reiterate that Lynn Collins is one of the most versatile/beautiful people on Earth), Sara Blakely and her story of Spanx (I read and watched everything Blakely-related for at least an hour the other day), vasectomies (should be mandatory for everyone).
Tomorrow I'm going to Staples to watch Celtics versus Clippers. Barring a miracle, it's the last time I'll get to see Paul, Ray, KG, and Rondo together again. Oh sadness. I hope one of them will wave back at me.
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