Category Archives: life

How do you wake up?

Sometimes it’s useful to step back and imagine your ideal life.

From my buddy Drob:

“i start every day with this song, 1000 pushups, 1000 situps, 50 pullups, a brisk 5 mile run, and a 30 minute whirlwind reading of 15 blogs.  i then eat granola, fresh fruit, and raw eggs, take my multivits, kiss my girlfriend nicole lapin goodbye, and head off to my joint bioengineering/biomimicry-business (innovation ecosystem: efficacy of fundamental research and r&d to commercialization process) phD program, which draws on my undergrad physics major and my experience building an artificial photosynthesis start-up into a pre-IPO success story valued at $900mm with 750 employees.  today i will write an opinion piece for the ny times and record a song with my band– crazy ray kurzweil on keys, john doerr laying it down on bass, and steve quake frontlining with the voice that all the ladies love.”

Get after it.


Love is a punch in the throat

Thanks to my girlfriend @brycelongton for digging this up.

reposted from


I think there are two kinds of love. Well, maybe three if you count Kill Bill Vol. 2, which was just an excuse for Quentin Tarantino to gaze at Uma Thurman through a camera lens and then lay claim to her with a giant cinematic facial at the end by shooting his name across her face in huge letters that might as well have been dripping down the screen. Anyway, I think there are two kinds of love. One is the kind of love where a person already has decided the things they want to happen to them, the things they desperately want and need and associate with love, they’ve mapped them out on their own heart beforehand, and they’re just trying to find someone to do them with. They’ve already decided that love = zany photobooth pictures and sharing their favorite movie on the couch once a week and saying this one pet name and them both liking the same band and going to the same coffeeshop and looking up and smiling over a book. So every person they date, they take them on the same walk to the same place and take the same pictures and pose the same pose and try the same lean-in and give the same mix tape, just giving the routine they want a test drive over and over again until it sticks, and then they get all the comforts that come with the routine of loving someone who holds the same things dear, or is at least game for holding your things dear with you.

And then there’s the other kind of love, that kind that sneaks up on you and punches you in the throat, and every part of it seems crazy and foreign at first, from the person and how they make you feel to the new things you find yourself doing, and you’re almost weirded out by how strange it is, and how you’re simultaneously repelled and attracted to it, and you might roll your eyes at it all and say, whatever, I’m not in love, I’m just doing this for awhile, but then one day you realize you want that strange new routine and person and it’s more love than anything else has ever been ever in your whole entire life, ever.

Interchangeable photobooth people, I wish you well, but I’ll take my punch in the throat.

The Umpire Whispers “Please Play” (David Foster Wallace)

Yesterday while sitting on top of the snowy cliffs of the Hudson river valley, my buddy Eric, one of the wiser people I know, related the following passage from David Foster Wallace’s “Infinite Jest”. The protagonist is relating “a really unpleasant dream that had been recurring nightly and waking me up in medias for weeks and was beginning to grind me down and to cause some slight deterioration in performance and rank. . . .

if only life were this simple

if only...

In this dream, which every now and then still recurs, I am standing publicly at the baseline of a gargantuan tennis court. I’m in a competitive match, clearly: there are spectators, offiials. The court is about the size of a football field, though, maybe, it seems. It’s hard to tell. But mainly the court’s complex. The lines that bound and define play are on this court as complex and convolved as a sculpture of string. There are lines going every which way, and they run oblique or meet and form relationships and boxes and rivers and tributaries and systems inside systems: lines, corners, alleys, and angles deliquesce into a blur at the horizon of the distant net. I stand there tentatively. The whole thing is almost too involved to try to take in all at once. It’s simply huge. And it’s public. A silent crowd resolves itself at what may be the court’s periphery, dressed in summer’s citrus colors, motionless and highly attentive. A battalion of linesmen stand blandly alert in their blazers and safari hats, hands folded over their slacks’ flies. High overhead, near what might be a net-post, the umpire, blue-blazered, wired for amplification in his tall high-chair, whispers “Play.” The crowd is a tableau, motionless and attentive. I twirl my stick in my hand and bounce a fresh yellow ball and try to figure out where in all that mess of lines I’m supposed to direct service. I can make out in the stands stage-left the white sun-umbrella of the Moms; her height raises the white umbrella above her neighbors; she sits in her small circle of shadow, hair white and legs crossed and a delicate fist upraised and tight in total unconditional support.

The umpire whispers “Please Play.”

We sort of play. But it’s all hypothetical, somehow. Even the ‘we’ is theory: I never get quite to see the distant opponent, for all the apparatus of the game.”

How to win a Fulbright Scholarship (A.K.A How to score a fully funded, employer approved adventure to study whatever you want where ever you choose.)

The world is your oyster

The world is your oyster

Most people think that you need to be a 4.0 student to get a Fulbright. Not true.  You don’t even have to be a student!  (I was neither.)  You just need to be passionate enough about 1) researching your cause and 2) being an ambassador for America to convince the Fulbright committee that 1) you are worth funding and 2) will make good use of your time abroad. In hopes of encouraging a more diverse group of people to apply, I offer up my top 10 tips for potential applicants. I only have a sample size of one, so take them with a grain of salt.

1) Pick a topic of great interest to both the US and Host governments.

-Grant writing 101: You are asking these governments for money. Pick something that they care about.

-I chose “The effect of Globalization on the Italian Textile and Fashion Industries.” Italy’s family textile businesses are getting decimated by low-cost, Asian imports. The Italian government wants to know how to make those businesses more competitive. Guess who else is worried about low-cost, Asian imports? You got it, Uncle Sam.

2) Pick a relevant and timely topic.

-It’s better work on something new and exciting than to pick a topic that’s been beaten to death.

-“Globalization” was about as hot as it gets in 2006. Another girl in my class studied “the Slow Food Movement.” The Italian Fulbright committee was basically asking for her autograph.

3) Pick a topic that is personally relevant.

-You need to convince the admissions committee that you are PASSIONATE about whatever it is you propose to study, be it textiles or sea snails. Since there are no deliverables attached to the funding, the committee needs to know that you are going to follow through on your work.

-I talked about seeing Italian textiles manufactured first hand by a family business while I studied abroad in Siena back in college. I also showed my commitment to the garment industry by working an internship at Dolce & Gabbana.

4) Pick a topic that leverages your unique skills.

-Are the skills you have particularly relevant for the task on which you propose to work? They should be.

-I studied industrial and competitive dynamics 80hrs a week for two years straight on Wall Street.

5) Bring skills that aren’t available in the host country.

-Similar to #4, except that not only are you qualified for the job at hand, no one else in the host country can tackle the problem.

-Italy doesn’t have a crazy culture of excessive work, so there are very few people there that have spent 80hrs a week trying to understand why some companies succeed and others fail.

6) Bring back unique skills that benefit the US.

-Uncle Sam is footing at least half the bill for you trip, so make sure he is getting something out of the deal (in addition to all of the good will you are going to create!)

-As mentioned in #1, I brought back a better understanding of how small and medium sized businesses can compete with low cost foreign competition. I’m putting it into practice right now by starting my own business.

7) Secure as many solid affiliations as possible.

-Nine months is NOT a lot of time to produce anything meaningful, especially when you are air dropped into a foreign culture/language you may know nothing about and may not function “efficiently” in the first place. Fulbright wants to know what you are going to hit the ground running. To do so you are going to need some support/infrastructure.

-Most people have some connections from their current university or with their professors from study abroad. I didn’t have either so I just cold emailed over 75 professors at business schools all over Italy. I included examples of my work and offered to work on their projects for free. I ended up with my own office (and wonderful secretary) in the best business school in the country.

8) Use every possible question, no matter how small, to convey the value you will bring. Every word counts.

-This is obvious.

-I think I wrote entire paragraphs in one line spaces.

9) Read everything on the website and talk to past grantees.

-You can learn a lot by looking at who has gotten grants for what in the past. Talking to past grantees will give you an idea of what to expect.

-I definitely got help from my buddy who was a Fulbright.

10) Stick it out.

-The application process can be boring and tedious and easy to blow off. Don’t blow it off. It’s worth it. You’ll thank me later. I promise.

How Early Do You Have to Get Up to Swim With the Sharks?

Portrait of Benjamin Franklin
Image via Wikipedia

I pinched this article from the NYtimes.  Make of it what you will.

How Early Do You Have to Get Up to Swim With the Sharks?
Published: Sunday, July 13, 1997

RISING early. Sages have said it brings health, wealth and the proverbial worm. Aristotle said it leads to wisdom. The 18th-century English theologian Matthew Henry warned: ”Those who would bring great things to pass must rise early. Love not sleep, lest thou come to poverty.”

Maybe that’s why Robert A. Iger, the president of ABC Inc., is sneaking around at 4:45 A.M. in the dark (trying not to wake up his wife, the news anchor Willow Bay), so he can beat everyone to the gym at 5 A.M., and be in his office by about 6, to surf the Web.

Or why Howard J. Rubenstein, the public relations mogul, once jogged in Central Park with a Dictaphone at 5:15 A.M. (until his secretary had trouble transcribing a tape that had all sorts of panting on it).

Call it seeking the competitive edge. Of course, they are not the only ones who try to beat the dawn. But by the time many have had that first cup of coffee or rustled a child out of bed, an exclusive club of early birds, many of the city’s movers and shakers have already armed themselves with layers of information; raised their heart rates and limbered their muscles; reviewed the schedules for the day (and many times the week); awakened personal assistants with detailed messages, and sharpened all sensoriums, so they can hit the day running.

The theory being that every battle is won or lost before it is fought.

Or as the real-estate developer Sam Lefrak puts the motto of his life: ”I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead”

Taken as a class, they are a calculating lot, primed and focused, zealots of timing and detail who build snooze time and daydreaming into the schedule. The morning peace can be exploited for polar virtues: accomplish basic tasks to make the rest of the day free or to contemplate and lay out strategy before the onslaught of midday clutter and interruptions.

They have morning rules and rituals. Perhaps drawing on the wisdom of abstinent prize fighters, the publishing star Judith Regan says she won’t have sex during the work week. Peter Vallone, Speaker of the City Council, goes to Mass seven days a week.

Perhaps future social historians will hold them up as human exhibits of the information age. There is more information available, so there is more to digest to get a handle on the world and be competitive. Most of these early birds have read two to four newspapers, browsed the Internet, channel-surfed the television stations, absorbed news radio, listened to voice mail, sent and read E-mail and even had one to three meetings, before 8 A.M.

”There is so much to know now,” said Ira M. Millstein, who at 6 A.M. is reading corporate governance of companies in Third World countries and has filled the desk of his assistant, Sally Sasso, full of faxes by 7 A.M.

And, let’s put it this way, no one is going to bed early. While some may be in bed by 10, most go to sleep from 11 P.M. to 1 A.M. Beyond a certain time, some of these people — by their own admission — are not exactly scintillating. One, who will remain nameless, is known to doze off at dinner parties. Mr. Iger concedes: ”Don’t find me at 7 or 8 at night. I’m a little tough to deal with.”

Some see religious roots in early rising. Abraham, after all, is said to have risen early to sacrifice his son Isaac. But it is clear the modern phenomenon is about pure competition.

”I don’t consider what I’m telling you to be normal,” Mr. Millstein said of his early rising, ”but I bet I’m the earliest.”

”Am I the earliest?” asked Mr. Rubenstein, who admits, ”We’re all a little crazy.”

Dr. John W. Rowe, the president of Mount Sinai Hospital, contends: ”I may not be the earliest riser, but I bet I’m at work the earliest.” That would be 7 A.M., when, he says, he expects his assistant to have coffee brewed for his arrival.

It doesn’t matter who is the earliest, but they all may have something on the rest of the city. As Benjamin Franklin once said, ”He who rises late may trot all day, and not overtake his business at night.” And what is even more awful is that what was considered early then may be even earlier now.

Remember: Benjamin Franklin didn’t have E-mail.


46, president of ABC Inc.

WAKE-UP TIME 4:45 A.M. to an alarm.

MORNING ROUTINE ”I have everything organized the night before. Let’s put it this way: It’s all designed so I don’t have to turn any lights on. I leave the apartment at 4:55 and arrive at the gym and work out until 6. See, the trick is to arrive in full workout attire. You have to arrive at the gym and hit the machines.”

EXERCISE ”I’m addicted to the Versa-Climber,” he said. He works out on it for 35 minutes and then lifts weights. An annoyance: ”There’s a select group of die-hards who are there before me and I don’t know how they do it.”

MORE ROUTINE When the workout is over: ”I walk across the street to my office, where a number of daily newspapers are waiting for me. I spend about an hour reading newspapers, E-mail, surfing the Web, watching tapes from ‘Nightline’ or screening a show. It’s my quiet solo multimedia experience in that period of time.”

He showers in his office, where he also has suits, shirts and ties. ”My suits are all over the place. That’s what weekends are for, shuttling suits.”

BREAKFAST 7 A.M. in the company cafeteria with a few ABC executives.

BEDTIME ”It’s about 11 P.M. or 12 A.M., or later. ”When we’re in reruns I try to go to bed closer to the 10 or 11 A.M. range,” he said.

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORNING ”I think people have their own rhythms. In my case it’s my morning. I’m less ornery. Don’t find me at 7 or 8 at night. I’m a little tough to deal with. People discover your routine and attempt to gain access to you. It’s a disturbing trend, but the phones tend to ring more than I would like.

”Our lives are filled with many more distractions and many more assaults on our time. Before, all we had to care about was mail and phones. Now there are faxes, E-mail, videocassettes to screen, plus the phones and mail. And the sheer volume of information written about our business has exploded. There is so much more to read.”


32, communications director for Mayor Giuliani.

WAKE-UP TIME An Upper East Side resident, she says she wakes up at 5:30 A.M. but then hits the snooze alarm and rises at 5:45 to WINS or CBS news on the radio.

”I’m very, very efficient. I like to sleep up to the last minute. If I was normal I’d get up earlier, but I like those last few minutes.

”It’s good to wake up to the radio, because it’s like I already know what’s going on.

”I basically roll out of bed, put on my running clothes, and put on a hat and hope nobody sees me.”

NEXT She’s ready to jog, but before she goes she calls the police desk at City Hall to find out about any incident that may have happened around the city from the police officer on duty. She may take notes or follow up right then, calling other people in the administration. She’ll quickly scan the headlines of all the papers.

CAVEAT At 6:10 A.M. she’s out the door to run. Unless the Mayor calls.

”There have been unfortunate times early in the morning when he has read the paper before me and he’ll call at about 5:30 A.M.” she said.

At that point, she said, she will read The New York Times, Daily News, Post and Newsday. ”Then I’ll make sure I have available any commissioner who could brief the Mayor at his morning meeting so he’s prepared for the rest of the day or he can take whatever necessary action to address the issues.”

EXERCISE She takes about a 30-minute run either on the lower loop of Central Park or on the Reservoir, and if she has extra time she runs the full loop of the park.

NEXT ”Come home. It’s about 6:45. Then I’ll read the papers again for another 15 minutes.”

BREAKFAST ”A glass of grapefruit juice or cranberry juice. When I eat breakfast with any kind of food I become hungrier throughout the day.”

EXIT STRATEGY She’s out of the house by 7:15 A.M., and then goes to a meeting at Gracie Mansion or City Hall.

Each day, Mayor Giuliani has a meeting of his senior staff at 8 A.M. for one hour, either a breakfast meeting at Gracie Mansion or a meeting at the committee-of-the-whole room on the second floor of City Hall.

”I really prefer the Mayor’s breakfast meetings up at Gracie Mansion. It’s exactly 15 blocks and I can walk.

”You know there’s a science to the mornings,” she said. She is referring to the chronic congestion on the East Side subway lines.

If she has to go to City Hall, Ms. Lategano is on the train downtown. ”If I leave the house at 7:15 A.M. it only takes 15 minutes to get to City Hall, but if I leave at 7:30 A.M., it takes half an hour,” she said. ”If I’m feeling lazy I do take a cab.”

BEDTIME Falls asleep halfway through David Letterman, about midnight.

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORNING ”The mornings are a great management tool, because everyone at the 8 A.M. meeting is prepared to brief the Mayor on any issues relative to the city that day, and it’s early enough to have a jump on the day.”


43, president of the Regan Company, which produces projects for film and television. She has handled books by Rush Limbaugh, Howard Stern and Christopher A. Darden.

WAKE-UP TIME Generally 5 A.M., but as early as 3 A.M. She always wears big white cotton pajamas to bed. When she wakes up she immediately starts leaving voice mail messages for her assistant, Angelica.

EXERCISE ”I get on the treadmill, which has a phone headset on it, and walk and don’t run.”

She starts leaving messages for her other employees, dictating their tasks for the day. If she’s not on her treadmill, she’s in the Jacuzzi. Either place, she’s making calls.

”I never go to the reservoir to run. Yuck. It’s like rush hour on the reservoir.”

RULES OF THE MORNING ”I never have sex during the work week. Boyfriends are not part of the mornings. We get him out of the house as quickly as possible.” Ms. Regan’s boyfriend is David Morey, a corporate consultant who lives in Washington.

BREAKFAST Ms. Regan is the mother of a 16-year-old boy, Patrick, and a 6-year-old girl, Lara. Breakfast consists of egg whites and daughter time. ”We sing and play and hug and rock. I tickle her and joke with her and then she gets dressed and I have 10 minutes to talk her into brushing her teeth.”

NEXT ”I read The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, USA Today and The Washington Post, (all the papers pretty much, except for The Daily News, which she says called her ”the most obnoxious woman in New York”). ”I channel-surf. I pretty much have the television going all morning.”

BEDTIME ”I only sleep four hours a night. When you have children, you get used to their biological clock. My children don’t sleep, so neither do I.”

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORNING ”Work starts the second I get up. I either work or play with my kids. I have to. I had a brutal custody battle with their father and I value my time with them. I have a lot to do. I’m a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown 100 percent of the time.”


65, the head of Rubenstein Associates, a 150-person public relations firm.

WAKE-UP TIME 4 to 4:30 A.M.

NEXT He puts on his running clothes and enters his office in his Fifth Avenue apartment. He switches on all the lights and the television set and starts flipping through the channels for news.

”It feels like midday,” he says.

He sits in the office until 5:40 A.M., working. He brings home several valises full of paperwork, all color coded in files.

”I organize my phone calls for the day. I look at all my unreturned phone calls. I prioritize them, color-code them and then write a line or two about each subject I have to talk about.”

He also organizes his meetings for future days, signs checks, looks at his diary, thinks about switching or adding a meeting for future days. He handwrites notes. He analyzes the week’s calendar.

EXERCISE At 5:40 A.M., he does about 20 to 30 minutes of stretching, then he and his wife, Amy, run four miles around the Reservoir in Central Park. That’s five days a week; the other days, he works on a stationary bike or treadmill in his home.

Mr. Rubenstein said he used to take a Dictaphone with him while he ran. But he stopped when his secretary said, ‘What’s with all this panting?’ ” When he did run alone, he said joggers he knew would catch up to him and ask him to ”talk to the Mayor” if something needed to be fixed in the park. He hated that.

NEXT At 6:30 or 7 A.M., Mr. Rubenstein does call one of his assistants, who is already in the office, to go over the day.

BREAKFAST Oatmeal with skim milk and coffee with his wife, Amy.

At work, he usually has a breakfast meeting at 8 A.M. ”I like them because no phones are ringing yet and I don’t feel pressure,” he said.

BEDTIME 10 to 11 P.M.

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORNING ”It’s a full-time day before the day starts. I have almost four hours of focusing on the day without interruption. You go into the day way ahead.”


57, president of Tishman, Speyer Properties, international developers and property managers.


EXERCISE Gets out of bed and immediately starts to exercise. In bad weather he will use the stationary bicycle and treadmill. Otherwise, he jogs, preferably three miles, with one of two ”reasonably steady running partners.”

People who have seen him jogging in Central Park say Mr. Speyer seems to be having business meetings while he’s running. But he says he tries to avoid that.

He has even tried to dictate when he’s running. ”But I got strange responses from my secretary when I brought in the tape.”

Many times, he takes a cab to different parts of the city and then gets out and runs home.

”You get a sense of the pulse of the city that way,” he says.

BREAKFAST 8 A.M. Usually a breakfast meeting. ”When the clock turns to 8, I become a business person,” he said.

BEDTIME About 11 P.M. or midnight.

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORNING ”I think every minute is precious.”

RULE He never calls Carole Karpel-Sekaloff, his assistant for 30 years, before 7:30 A.M. ”And she never calls me until then, too,” he said.


70, senior partner at Weil, Gotshal & Manges, an international law firm with 11 offices and 600 lawyers, whose clients include General Motors, Westinghouse, General Electric and Empire Blue Cross/Blue Shield.


NEXT Makes coffee with hot milk and goes to his desk at 5 A.M. ”Since I’ve been about 9 years old or earlier, I’m at a desk at 5 A.M. I remember when Martin Block was the D.J. and I would listen to the ‘Milkman’s Matinee’ on WNEW.

”I read lecture notes or an agreement that I’m working on, or a speech or an article or a complicated opinion letter. Anything complicated that requires undivided attention is part of the morning.”

He uses a fax machine to send material to his office.

THE VIEW During the week, he splits his time between his Fifth Avenue apartment and his home in Mamaroneck, N.Y. In both places, he said, it was a priority for his offices to have a view.

”My desk in New York overlooks the park. My desk in Mamaroneck overlooks the Long Island Sound. At first I sit myself down and look out and contemplate and think. It’s peaceful and focused. There are no phones ringing, no people, no computers.”

RULES ”I don’t call any associates or partners until 7 A.M.,” he says, laughing. ”I hold back my anxious calls. I have mercy. I call at 7. That’s acceptable.”

(By the time Mr. Millstein’s assistant, Sally Sasso, comes to work at 8, she has a pile of work on her desk.)

EXERCISE Around 7 A.M.: Work out on the exercycle and stretch and flex.

BREAKFAST Half of grapefruit, coffee, toast or dry cereal.

NEXT Then he goes to work. In New York, he either walks or takes a cab to the office. In Mamaroneck, he gets driven to work and reads the papers in the back seat.

”By that score it’s about 8:45 A.M.”

BEDTIME 10:50 P.M.

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORNING ”I wouldn’t know how to do it otherwise. I’m getting a jump on everyone. It’s a competitive advantage.”


From Ghana, the Secretary General of the United Nations. (A peacemaker in a world of sharks.)

WAKE UP TIME: 7 A.M. ”I’m not one of these 4 or 5 o’clock guys.” But during crises he will go to bed at 2 A.M. and wake up at to reach people in other time zones.

ROUTINE ”I wake up and get the news. I listen to the radio: to the BBC and Radio France Internationale and then read The New York Times and The Washington Post. The first sections. I need the international aspects.”

EXERCISE ”I then get exercises done on the treadmill. I walk and sometimes I feel energetic and get on my rowing machine.”


BEDTIME Around 11 P.M.

PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORNING ”You have to pace yourself.” He said since he became Secretary General in January, his life has changed. ”Drastically,” he said. ”It’s become very hectic. The first time I heard the phrase ‘time is the enemy,’ I laughed. Now no one has to explain it to me.”

”You have to organize and structure your time in such a manner that you give sufficient attention to the many issues that come across your day.”

Theories, Outrages


Andre Balazs, the hotelier who just opened Nica’s, a bar-restaurant. Goes out at least five nights a week and wakes up from 6 to 6:15 A.M.

”The key is you got to get out of any place by midnight. It’s reverse Cinderella. I really believe this. If you’re out after midnight, the tenor changes and after midnight it’s all about who you’re going to go home with. It’s not very rewarding professionally.

”Years ago, I spent a lot of time with Andy Warhol, and it impressed me that he took his socializing very professionally and paced himself by always being at home at midnight. Andy never burnt out.”


Don Hewitt, executive producer of ”60 Minutes.” Awakes at 5 A.M. and is usually at work by 6 A.M. Reads The New York Times and The Washington Post, then goes to the cafeteria and reads more newspapers.

Why does he get up so early? ”Basically I’m up because I can’t sleep. I go to sleep around 11 P.M. and I listen to the first item on the news. I’m awake and I can’t lie in bed.”


Brian McNally, owner of the restaurant 44 at the Royalton Hotel. In bed around 3:30 A.M. and up near 10.

”I have some cornflakes with a couple of cigarettes and then get into the shower. Sometimes I’ll go out to a cafe and read the newspaper and have coffee and a twisted bagel with sliced tomatoes and lots of salt and pepper. It’s good in the Village: no one gets up until that time.”

”It kills me to get up at 5 A.M. I can’t think straight. I hate those people who are jogging and walking the dogs. It’s depressing. Don’t they have a life? I mean, in principle, I like the morning. You know, there’s sunshine and fresh air. It’s just, what is with the jogging and chirping?”


Don Imus, radio show host. Awakes at 4:17 A.M. and goes on the air at 6 A.M.

”I come over here to the Kaufman Studios and read The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Boston Globe and The Daily News, and I think about what it all means and whose life I can ruin, and there’s not much time to do it. And though I’m on the air for four hours there are a lot of commercials, so it comes down to seven or eight minutes that I can make someone furious.”

”Most people who I have talked to in the 4 and 5 o’clock area wake up and stare at the clock throughout the night. There was a time, 10 years ago, I had a substance situation, and I had to have an alarm. But no more. I don’t drink or smoke and I just wake up.”

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What I’d say to Martians

There was a time, circa 2005, when my roommates Tim and Will hung the following New Yorker article by Jack Handey from the door of my Spanish Harlem bedroom.  I was investment banking at the time and I think they were trying to tell me something.


People of Mars, you say we are brutes and savages. But let me tell you one thing: if I could get loose from this cage you have me in, I would tear you guys a new Martian asshole.You say we are violent and barbaric, but has any one of you come up to my cage and extended his hand? Because, if he did, I would jerk it off and eat it right in front of him. “Mmm, that’s good Martian,” I would say.

You say your civilization is more advanced than ours. But who is really the more “civilized” one? You, standing there watching this cage? Or me, with my pants down, trying to urinate on you? You criticize our Earth religions, saying they have no relevance to the way we actually live. But think about this: if I could get my hands on that god of yours, I would grab his skinny neck and choke him until his big green head exploded.

We are a warlike species, you claim, and you show me films of Earth battles to prove it. But I have seen all the films about twenty times. Get some new films, or, so help me, if I ever get out of here I will empty my laser pistol into everyone I see, even pets.

Speaking of films, I could show you some films, films that portray a different, gentler side of Earth. And while you’re watching the films I’d sort of slip away, because guess what: the projector is actually a thing that shoots out spinning blades! And you fell for it! Well, maybe not now you wouldn’t.

You point to your long tradition of living peacefully with Earth. But you know what I point to? Your stupid heads.

You say there is much your civilization could teach ours. But perhaps there is something that I could teach you—namely, how to scream like a parrot when I put your big Martian head in a vise.

You claim there are other intelligent beings in the galaxy besides earthlings and Martians. Good, then we can attack them together. And after we’re through attacking them we’ll attack you.

I came here in peace, seeking gold and slaves. But you have treated me like an intruder. Maybe it is not me who is the intruder but you.

No, not me. You, stupid.

You keep my body imprisoned in this cage. But I am able to transport my mind to a place far away, a happier place, where I use Martian heads for batting practice.

I admit that sometimes I think we are not so different after all. When you see one of your old ones trip and fall down, do you not point and laugh, just as we on Earth do? And I think we can agree that nothing is more admired by the people of Earth and Mars alike than a fine, high-quality cigarette. For fun, we humans like to ski down mountains covered with snow; you like to“milk” bacteria off of scum hills and pack them into your gill slits. Are we so different? Of course we are, and you will be even more different if I ever finish my homemade flamethrower. You may kill me, either on purpose or by not making sure that all the surfaces in my cage are safe to lick. But you can’t kill an idea. And that idea is: me chasing you with a big wooden mallet.

You say you will release me only if I sign a statement saying that I will not attack you. And I have agreed, the only condition being that I can sign with a long sharp pen. And still you keep me locked up.

True, you have allowed me reading material—not the “human reproduction” magazines I requested but the works of your greatest philosopher, Zandor or Zanax or whatever his name is. I would like to discuss his ideas with him—just me, him, and one of his big, heavy books.

If you will not free me, at least deliver a message to Earth. Send my love to my wife, and also to my girlfriend. And to my children, if I have any anyplace. Ask my wife to please send me a bazooka, which is a flower we have on Earth. If my so-called friend Don asks you where the money I owe him is, please anally probe him. Do that anyway.

If you keep me imprisoned long enough, eventually I will die. Because one thing you Martians do not understand is that we humans cannot live without our freedom. So, if you see me lying lifeless in my cage, come on in, because I’m dead. Really.

Maybe one day we will not be the enemies you make us out to be. Perhaps one day a little Earth child will sit down to play with a little Martian child, or larva, or whatever they are. But, after a while, guess what happens: the little Martian tries to eat the Earth child. But guess what the Earth child has? A gun. You weren’t expecting that, were you? And now the Martian child is running away, as fast as he can. Run, little Martian baby, run!

I would like to thank everyone for coming to my cage tonight to hear my speech. Donations will be gratefully accepted. (No Mars money, please.)

New Strategy: I do what I want

sheepleHi all.  Some of you may have noticed that I haven’t posted in a while.  I’ve been very busy with a new project.  I can’t wait to tell everyone about it.

To be honest,  I never liked the convention of having to post every day, regardless whether I thought I had something earth shattering to say.  I also can’t stand the sterile blog voice.  eewww.  Risk averse personal branding results in white noise at best, flat out garbage at worst.

So, I’ve got a new plan for this blog.  I’m just going to say whatever I want, whenever I want, about whatever I choose.  I’m probably not even going to spell check it.  Hope that works.   Given my interests, I’m sure that the content will continue to revolve around entrepreneurship, but don’t be surprised if you get a few random stories about what happened last night or a new song I like.  So without further ado, here is a comic I like via xkcd.  Have a good one day.

Remember chat rooms? does

Image representing AOL as depicted in CrunchBase
Image via CrunchBase

My friend Blake recently stumbled upon a company called that lets you anonymously chat with strangers.  Another buddy of mine had previously suggested this service in video form, so I thought i would give it a spin.

All in all, the experience (below) reminded me of sneaking up to my room to cruise the AOL chatrooms as a pre-teen.  How exciting it was for a kid living in a town of 8,000 residents to be able to talk to 13 or eve, gasp,  14/fs.  I can still remember when I told my mom that sometimes I prenteded to be 13 or 14 because the older “girls” wouldn’t talk to me- She said not to be dishonest.

In a world of facebook and now google latitude (google’s location based social network), it’s crazy even for people of my generation  (X) to look back and remember living in the pre-cell phone world.

Here’s my Omegle convo: Looking for someone you can chat with. Hang on.
You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

Stranger: oi

You: howdy

Stranger: oh hai
You: where are you from?
Stranger: brasil
Stranger: how bout u
You: USA
You: new york city
Stranger: awesome
You: where in brasil?
You: i hear great things
Stranger: tahiba
You: is that in the north?
Stranger: no
Stranger: west
You: check
You: this is such an old school idea
Stranger: that will be $40
Stranger: what is
You: reminds me of chat rooms in the late 90s
Stranger: i no isnt it terrible
You: i wonder why we came here?
You: my buddy just sent me the link
Stranger: if u get an answer give it to me
Stranger: i’m looking for answers to dull questions from a large sample of losers
You: well, im researching new technology companies while preparing for a job interviews.
You: which makes me a dull loser im pretty sure.
Stranger: no just a loser
Stranger: my questions are dull
You: actually, im thinking, fck, maybe i dont want to work for someone else anyway.
Stranger: moving my adjectives around
Stranger: lulz
Stranger: y
You: maybe i want to go to fcking spain and start a tour company
You: what’s lulzy?
Stranger: do u believe in god?
You: havent proven that he doesnt exist yet so sure.
Stranger: lulz is a corruption of the acronym lol
Stranger: it means laugh out loud
Stranger: y is an abreviation of why
You: ah checkk
Stranger: y do u say check?
You: im way out of the loop
You: check means “ok. i got it.”
Stranger: unicorns haven’t been proven to not exist
Stranger: same with gnomes, elves, fairies…
Stranger: dragons
Stranger: ur logic is flawed
You: i can’t say with 100% certainty that unicorns don’t exist somewhere.
You: my logic is fine.
You: look how big the universe is.
You: do i think there are unicorns on earth?
You: no
Stranger: yea u r right
Stranger: might be unicorns somewhere else
Stranger: lulz
You: jaja
Stranger: just like god
Stranger: both exist
Stranger: in peoples imagination
You: maybe but im not going to make assertive claims either way
Stranger: 4 what defines reality anyway
Stranger: u did well
Stranger: how many years did it take u to graduate college?
You: it’s whatever we want. i enjoyed sharing this moment with you stranger from brazil. tchau!

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Technology is amazing….

Technology is amazing. The internet at my house is down today yet I am able to press 2 buttons, speak this message. Have it converted to text and upload it under my blog. Like I said amazing.

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Energy Bursts

Image by Christos Tsoumplekas via Flickr

In Milan you run everywhere you go. You run down marble steps past stained glass. You zip up your buddy’s lime green track jacket, fast colors for a fast day. You cinch you backpack straps and make space noises, ZZZZZZZLLLLLUUURRP! You slide on your sunglasses and sprint past bare chested Italian men posing on billboard ice fields. They blink and miss the chance to wonder why you run so fast. You fly over bridges under clothes lines covered in pigeons. “We are wolves” plays in your head, all day, on repeat, over and over again. You run to housing office, to the document office, to the post office to make up for the time that other people wait. You run past the ticket booth because the passport photo machine ate your last 20€ and your bank card doesn’t work and cant keep up. You run to the train, away from the train station officer who is calling your name. You run because you don’t care and don’t have any other option. In Milan you run everywhere you go.

Sometimes when walking down the street on sunny days like today, I get energy bursts.   You feel them first as a boiling hunger on the top of your stomach that moves quickly to the tips of your fingers and the hairs on your arms. Energy bursts make you spontaneously explode into smiles. They make you pick up the chair that a hurried stranger knocks over in Starbucks and then smile as the same man, late for his meeting but infected with your positive energy, holds the door for a meandering teenage girl on her way inside.

Energy bursts make you feel like you can jump over the building ahead of you like Spiderman. Seriously, look at that building 100 feet ahead, and summon magic from the untouched reaches of your being. You did it as a kid, remember? You could shoot fireballs like Ryu or cast spells like Gandolf.  While this feeling may manifest itself outwardly as nothing more than a furrowed brow, some bootleg sound effects muttered under your breath, and slightly bent knees preparing for take-off, the feeling was real then and it’s real now. I love these days.

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