What is a Brand? (In 60 seconds)

The word “brand” means many things to many people. In business, it is just as it sounds: it is the lasting impression businesses leave behind.

There are basically two types of brands:

1. Brands we can touch. (Goods)

2. Brands we experience. (Services)

Peter Drucker said the purpose of a business is to create a customer, which leaves us with two basic functions:

1. Marketing.

2. Innovation.

We market to two types of customers:

1. People. (Consumers)

2. Organizations. (Business-to-Business)

We innovate in order to “have and to hold” customers, which often require:

1. Glue. (Creating a sticky external layer)

2. Magnets. (Connecting from the inside)

People often see brands differently:

1. Brands that give back.

2. Brands that take.

The people behind these brands conscientiously choose to brand in one of two worlds:

1. The world they choose to see.

2. The world as it really is.

So, knowing this ... does your brand leave the world better than you found it, or not?

My Little America

Most days, just like America, I am simply trying to keep my shit together.

Overwhelmed and feeling uninformed with the waves of "news" beaming into my eyes from feeds by journalists, bloggers and everyone else on WiFi that thinks they have something to say, I can only make sense of current events by reducing everything to the world within my domain.

Or as I call it, My Little America.

Saint John Paul II, once said, “As the family goes, so goes the nation and so goes the whole world in which we live.” I'm not so sure this principal isn't reversible. You couldn't keep a straight face and say the actions of the U.S. government have not dramatically affected families.

At the risk of oversimplifying, let's say 300-million-plus Americans are your family and you are the head of household. Do your best to shrink the nation's problems down to scale so they all fit nicely into your home.

How would you take on the pressing issues of the day?

Would you spend more than you earn, month in and month out? Many of us do and pay the price for it. What would happen if we all learned how to live within our means?

Would you borrow excessively without any plans or means to pay off your debts? The truth is, most of us couldn't do this even if we wanted to. And if we did, we would be dealing with less-than-scrupulous lenders who make a practice of enslaving and exploiting their borrowers.

Would you maintain your house and expect your family members to pitch in? Whether it be sheer pride or the practicality of keeping up a house to protect your investment?

Would you insist your kids receive a good education or would you leave it to chance?

Would you insist your kids go to college no matter what ... however you have to pay for it? And would you expect your kids to thrive or your local, state and national government to function if most of our kids skipped college because they can't afford it? This to me is a national security matter of the highest importance. 

If a family member injured themselves, would you expect them to receive proper medical treatment? Of course you would. Thank God you're one of the lucky ones who hasn't had to bankrupt your family because a family member wasn't insured.

Would you prevent immigrants from moving into your neighborhood?

"Who would do that?", you say.

Would you frequently host get-togethers for all the bigots you know?

"That's crazy!"

Would you reject people of a certain faith from renting your property?

"That's unconstitutional!"

Would you embarrass your family repeatedly by using offensive, sexist, and racist language?

You can begin to see how ridiculous all of this sounds when it's reduced to your world. And yet, I have to remind myself that more than 60 million of fellow citizens voted for a guy that acts this type of behavior out on a daily basis as our Commander-in-Chief. I am embarrassed as an American and I would be humiliated if he were the patriarch of my family.

As I grumpily clicked the window shut on Google News and grabbed the car keys to take my kid to school this morning, I realized I had a decision to make: join a global audience of voyeurs in watching this sick, twisted, slow-motion-car-crash of a freak show led by our president, OR, run My Little America today in a way that makes my family proud. 

It was the easiest decision I'll make today.

Misfit and proud.

A person whose behavior or attitude sets them apart from others in an uncomfortably conspicuous way.

This is one definition of the word "misfit". It's also my abbreviated professional bio.

I've always been different. Even when I wasn't trying.

For some of us, and I would say most practicing entrepreneurs, we just don't fit in. And thank God. No matter the amount of outside influence the world projects on us from family values to religion to education to politics ... each of us are uniquely different. For just a blip.

And despite our one-in-billions original identity, we rapidly begin to turn into something other people want us to become. All of our physiological, psychological, physical, emotional, spiritual and financial traits begin to be shaped--and limited--by the humans we were entrusted.

How else do you explain 70,000+ people simultaneously making pig noises, intentionally, at a football game? Or every single county in your state voting for the same (fill-in-the-blank) presidential candidate?

Imagine a world that valued and rigorously defended individuality? Surely it would lead to anarchy! People would marry their pets! Cannibalism would reign!

Or would it?

I guess we'll never know. Not in my lifetime. In the meantime, I am co-rearing (is that a word?) three gifted children to be the humans they were created to become. Their mother and I are in complete agreement that our individual world-views are not theirs. Our faith, our politics and our beliefs ... even our tastes in music, art and literature, are ours and ours alone.

While we expose our kids to what we value most, we have made it clear to them that our job is to help them determine for themselves who they truly are, what their limits are, and what kind of life they will lead.

Yes ... you read that right. We all have limitations in our quest to live life to the fullest.

When it comes to business, you won't be surprised to learn I have chosen a career (or better said, I a career chose me,) that demanded I be myself. And I have surrounded myself by people who classify themselves as misfits, too.

People that look different, talk different, walk different, write different, think different, act different.

People who in their youth were told they were weird, nerdy, odd, difficult, even arrogant.

People who were lucky enough to have at least one person in their life consistently celebrate their misfittedness! (I'm pretty sure that's not a word either, but who cares. I'm a misfit, right?)

The next time you observe your child, or student, or your childish business partner or employee, ask yourself if you're encouraging them to live a life of intentional individuality or if you are unintentionally expecting them to act like everyone else in the micro-universe you live in.

For the sake of the human race, try your best to be yourself as often as you can. Allow others in your sphere of influence to do the same. The world needs to celebrate and empower misfits. We're the only thing standing in-between a world-gone-mad and the impossible.

Or as I like to call it ... progress.

First In, Last Out

Cockroach. That’s what my professional mascot would be if I had one.

Being the first-in and last-out at work these days isn’t nearly as cool as it used to be. Whether you work in an office, at home, or at your local pet shop, there’s a Cal Ripken, Jr., in your organization.

Is it you?

My grandparents referred to this characteristic as work ethic. For my parents, it was a non-negotiable. “If you don’t work, you don’t eat,” was the edict that ruled our home when I was growing up.

I’ve had a job-job since I was a kid. From household and gardening chores to putting food on the table, I was expected to be a contributor from the git-go.

Bussing tables, washing dishes, mowing lawns, cleaning windows … it was normal and expected that if you were able, you worked. 

This isn’t the case today. Not where I live.

I know poor kids by name that have $600 smart phones and $150 sneakers. Some of these kids have spent more time at professional sporting events and concerts than cleaning their room.

I would say most kids think Manual Labor is the relief pitcher the Yankees just traded for … but then again, most kids don’t watch baseball so what the hell do I know.

Honestly, my parents, teachers, coaches and professors will tell you I was thick. Nothing — and I mean nothing — came easy for me. I wasn’t trying to be difficult. My brain simply processed information differently and not nearly as efficiently as those around me.

But it didn’t matter. I kept at it. I studied longer. I read and re-read. I got up earlier and stayed up later just to scrape by with a C. But boy, I’m glad I did. Without even knowing it, I was learning to outwork, out hustle, and outlast the competition. And this quality has stayed with me my entire career.

So here’s my challenge for those who still want to do something great:

1. How much time are you committing to practice your craft? Because all the greats out-practice their opponents. All of them.
2. How much time are you putting into doing really great work? It’s awfully tough to produce something amazing between 9–12 a.m., and 1–5 p.m.
3. How much thought and preparation are you putting into your meetings and calls? What are you doing to get better when you’re off the clock?

If you’re tripping over the fact that you’re not where you want to be at this stage in your career, or like many, believe you’re not earning what you’re worth, I hate to break it to, but here’s the gospel truth:

We design and build our own realities. And unless you’re the guy born on Third Base who thought he hit a triple, if you want a great life, you are going to have to earn it.

Step One: Be the first one in and last one out. Work you ass off in-between.

Step Two: Accept the fact your financial future is completely up to you.

Step Three: Don’t expect to get paid until you create serious value for others.

Outhustle. Outserve. Outperform. First in, last out.

Get the Hell Out! (Don't Quit)

I'm an idiot. This was a terrible mistake. It’s over. Three lies that slip past the ears of every entrepreneur as they approach failure … and success.

If these words haven’t played in your head before, you’re not taking big enough risks. For the rest of us, all I can say is you’re not nuts. Well, maybe you are nuts but not because of the negative self-talk looping in your head.

Anyone who has striven to do something great has heard this voice. The difference is entrepreneurs that eventually succeed tend to have advocates that refuse to put up with the negative bullshit we tell ourselves.

Don’t take my word for it. Read Jonathan Haidt’s fascinating book, The Happiness Hypothesis: Finding Modern Truth in Ancient Wisdom. You’ll soon learn it’s perfectly normal to have these feelings of loss, sadness and isolation in life as you ride along on your elephant. (Read the book.)

For me, I had to learn to stop taking myself and my ideas so seriously. The world will go on without me. And if our dreams aren’t something that can be realized in months or years or even within our lifetime, we still get to choose to find happiness both within ourselves and with others.

So before you nuke your project and jump into Dante’s outermost ring of pain, take a deep breath, drink a large glass of water, and force yourself to take an eight-hour nap. When you wake up, the world will still be here. It may not be as good as the one you imagined but it’ll still be here. And guess what? It needs you. That’s right. The world needs you.

Have a little faith, friend. Yesterday wasn’t your day. Today may not be either. But trust me: in the not-too-distant future, you will get another chance to do something great if you don’t quit.

I’m just hoping the person you were born to be shows up and not the weirdo talking all of that end-of-the-world nonsense that’s wracking your brain.

You’ve got what it takes. You’ve put in your 10,000 hours. You’ve mastered your craft. Get back on your horse and get the heck out of Hades.

Giddy’up!

Sound Check: Grow a Pair

Some entrepreneurs steamroll. Others charm. I paint with my ears.

One of the best gifts I received as a kid was a learning disability. Being diagnosed as dyslexic and ADHD (and understanding how my brain functions differently from others) was liberating for me. I began to adapt the way I communicate my thoughts and ideas with others … to take seemingly intractable subjects and make them simple enough for children to understand. 

But I wasn't able to translate this into commercial success until I first learned how to listen.

One of the greatest challenges an entrepreneur faces early on is learning how to effect change through others. And any psychologist worth their weight will tell you it’s damn-near impossible to change a person's behavior.

If you’re a Strengths Finder 2.0 geek, my leading strength is Connectedness. If you use Predictive Index, I’m Persuasive: more extraverted than dominant, low patience, average formality. Basically, I succeed best through others.

So for me to succeed in business, I had to learn (slowly and painfully) how to lead with my ears, not my mouth. This is a discipline that is often referred to as, “easy to say, hard to do”.

Entrepreneurs can become so consumed with their vision of how the world should be, we forget humans aren’t naturally receptive to change. If we’re not careful, we can mow people over and pigeon-hole ourselves into a cartoonish caricature of mad scientists.

The goal in getting others to see what you see is to inspire them with mediums that connect with their emotions first and logic second. You may have a colorful and compelling story that is backed up by accurate and useful data, but none of it will matter if you never give your audience an opportunity to express how your offering relates to them personally.

As the adage goes, seek first to understand if you wish to be understood. Find friends you trust and hear what they have to say about your widget. To create that first customer, allow them to provide unfiltered feedback on the problem you’re trying to solve.

Trust me on this one and shut up. Put those two ears to work. I promise you'll thank me later.

Angel Funding 101: How committed are you?

Stick with me. This is good stuff.

As a greying entrepreneur, I get hit up for advice and funding. (Mostly funding.) The truth is, I hit up my share of veteran entrepreneurs when I was striking out. When rookies hit me up now, I try to make myself available but with one caveat.

If you want my advice on your career or a venture you’re working on, you have to tolerate a parable first and then answer a few questions. The parable is from the gospel of Saint Matthew and it goes like this:

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.”

Alright. Let’s break it down.

The treasure was obviously hidden. What was this guy doing digging around on someone else’s property? The fact he chose to hide it “again” means the treasure wasn’t in plain sight.

The guy scores a few points considering he decided against stealing it.

Maybe he was honest. Maybe he knew he couldn’t keep or sell it without getting busted.

He definitely had an idea of what the treasure was worth.

And why did he hide it again? My guess: if he found it, it’s likely someone else would, too.

To me, the most valuable phrase in this parable is, “in his joy”.

Joy is a powerful word. It seems this dude had a genuine sense of satisfaction and personal fulfillment in whatever it was he found. And to top it off, he knew what his possessions were worth.

Assuming this guy may have been married, he would have had to talk the missus into selling her stuff, too.

Listen, it’s one thing to be excited about an opportunity. It’s another to persuade others to buy into your vision and mutually commit. This leaves us with two big questions:

What did the treasure consist of?

When I ask entrepreneurs this question, I get a version of one of the following answers:

“Financial independence!”

“Market share!”

“Being admired as an industry leader by my peers!”

Wrong, wrong, and wrong.

I’m skipping ahead here but here’s how I address these kinds of responses.

It’s you that is hidden in the box. YOU.

This always triggers a response like, “How can I be in the box? I found the box!”

I remind them we cannot be discovered until we first discover ourselves. If you ask anyone who has achieved success, you learn there are no big breaks. These folks believed in themselves when few others did and they refused to quit until they found their joy.

Now, if they are asking for funding, I ask them one more question: 

Are you asking me to sell my stuff to buy your field?

While they’re letting that question sink in, I kindly convey the following:

1. Discover yourself FIRST.

2. Prepared to make serious sacrifices to achieve what it is you seek.

3. Get used to putting in tons of ass-breaking work.

Only then, can we begin to understand the cost of being fully committed.

White Like Me

Some of my best friends are white.

As my city attempts to heal after the most recent police brutality incident — another unnecessary murder of an unarmed African American, a man named Terence Crutcher—my thoughts turn back to color.

I can be extremely thick sometimes. Start over. I am extremely thick most of the time. I’ve been like this all of my life. I am diagnosed as dyslexic and ADHD. I have always been a slow learner. I always will be.

Before I moved to Oklahoma, I spent my early years growing up near the foothills of the Rockies in Meridian, Idaho. A beautiful place to grow up. I have wonderful childhood memories. I remember driving into the Sawtooth Mountains towards Redfish Lake and McCall. Along the way, my mother would show me the dams and bridges and other WPA projects her father helped build as a returning World War I veteran.

What I don’t have memories of growing up in Idaho, though, was everyone being white. The fact I cannot recollect seeing a single person of color as a kid, I can tell you there was at least one African American in Idaho in 1969.

How do I know?

From the time I was probably four-years-old, my mother has recanted a story about how I needed a blood transfusion right after I was born, and the only person in St. Luke’s Hospital in Boise, who matched my blood type, was an elderly African American woman. She willingly donated her blood and saved my life.

My mother, who has spent her entire life living with chronic pain, knew no stranger. I cannot count the number of homeless people who would join our family at the supper table. And despite the lack of diversity in our community (or the over-abundance of whiteness I should say,) she instilled in me a love for humankind, especially anyone who might look/sound/think different than me.

Before I would leave home for college, she and my father would adopt a brilliant teenager from Uganda and treat him as their own child. I loved him as my brother.

After the second grade, when my family relocated from Idaho, to Rockford, Illinois, I attended a public school that was more black than it was white.

The first record I bought with my own money? The Commodores. I loved Michael Jackson but then again, so did everyone. When I turned 16, I was that white kid blasting Run DMC in my father’s Oldsmobile. I wasn’t trying to be black. I was just being me.

When my family suffered several traumatic events in my early teens, my Jesus was a black man from Montgomery, Alabama, who could SING. His name was Jerome Williams. First he was my pen pal. Then he became a mentor and friend.

While I will never understand what it must be like to be an African American living in America, I received a painful education when my best friend’s twin brother died of cancer in High School. He invited me into his life in North Tulsa.

Having a South African roommate in college helped me start to understand what it was like to be black under the Apartheid government. As I look back over my career, experiences and relationships like these greatly shaped my worldview.

Now, here is where my thickness come in:

It didn’t hit me until my early forties that I was a “white guy”. On the evolutionary chart of human progress, and sadly, human destruction, I found myself on the wrong side of history. Of all the bad dudes recorded over the last few thousand years… the worst of them were “white guys”.

You don’t have to dig very deep. Hitler. White dude. Jeffrey Dahmer. White dude. Bernie Madoff. White dude. And tragically, the list continues to grow.

Am I responsible for women earning 70-cents on the dollar for each dollar I earn?

Am I responsible for why girls get discriminated against in math and science?

Am responsible for Taylor Swift and Beck beating out Beyoncé and Kanye?

God, I hope not. But I can’t say I’m not either.

I do know this:

I am white. And that fact alone has given me unmerited perpetual privilege.

I know “Black Lives Matter” doesn’t mean “Only Black Lives Matter”. I know Black represents the color of people most affected by this horrible string of preventable police brutality.

I am trying to teach my children to seek first to understand before trying to be understood. Attending Lee Elementary, Carver Middle School, and Booker T. Washington High School, has helped. I’m also trying to convey to my daughter that she is an equal to her brothers and if she chooses to get married, she will be an equal to her partner.

I am teaching my sons to respect girls as their equals and to show respect to all woman and not just those in authority, including their principals (all three are amazing women), coaches, teachers, bus drivers, school counselors, cross guards, cafeteria servers. You-name-it. We respect all women.

Above all, I have raised my kids to understand and respect this truth:

If we were not white, our struggles would be exponentially more difficult to face … and I can only pray we would have the strength to overcome those challenges as gracefully as all my heroes of color.

For starters, I’m looking at you, Nate Waters.

Grandma's Porn Problem

Food Porn, Travel Porn, Adventure Porn, Porn Porn: These are the drugs of choice that slowly crush our souls and steal our joy.

In the latest issue of The New Yorker, now on newsstands everywhere, they cover the state of modern pornography.

"In 2014, Pornhub alone had seventy-eight billion page views, and XVideos is the fifty-sixth most popular Web site in the world. Some porn sites get more traffic than news sites like CNN, and less only than platforms such as Google, Facebook, Amazon, and PayPal."

Whether your fingerprints are on one or more of those 78 billion page views, the truth is, we all have a serious porn problem. Even grandma.

Pornography, as defined in most dictionaries, means printed or visual material containing the explicit description or display of sexual organs or activity, intended to stimulate erotic rather than aesthetic or emotional feelings.

"Rather than aesthetic or emotional feelings." That got me thinking.

Think about how much time we waste looking at explicit displays of ... everything. Games and movies. Cooking shows. Travel magazines. Adventure catalogues. Foodie blogs and news feeds.

All of these ancillary forms of "porn" are eating up large amounts of our time and resources.

Recently, one of my heroes was ranting that Red Bull was nothing more than a seller of Snuff. A friend of mine pointed out that if that is true, and I believe it is, than this icon of mine (I'm looking at you, Yvon Chouinard), is guilty of being a purveyor of Adventure Porn. Ouch. (Let's just say my friend completely ruined my habit of reading Patagonia catalogues cover-to-cover.)

Whatever it is in the virtual world that's sucking the reality out of our lives and relationships, let's knock it off. 

Let's go outside and do something. Spend time with another living being.

Let's go somewhere we've never been. Let's talk to the people we meet along the way.

Make something. Start a new business. Start a new school. 

Trade information for experiences.

The point is this: stop fantasizing and start doing.

Sure.

Every once in a while a word gets hijacked.

You say it. I say it. And not because we enjoy being cooperative. While it may be received as a variation of “yes”, what we really mean is a bit more snarky/dickish.

There are degrees of sincerity often attached to this overused expression. 

Scenario A

A neighbor takes you up on your offer to (fill-in-the-blank). You can’t really say no … you did offer to help. Granted, you were on your fifth beer.

Your initial thought: Oh yeah … I did offer to help. I’m such a moron. What you audibly say: “Sure!”

Scenario B

A client emails you and asks for something that’s way beyond the scope of the project. To top it off, she calls you “buddy”. You can’t afford to piss her off but it burns your ass she’s taking advantage of the situation.

What you’re thinking: There goes my weekend. What you text after a 60-second death stare at blinking cursor: “Sure.”

This four-letter word has become a last ditch effort to downplay our just how put out we are, whether we’re right or wrong for thinking so.

If you think I’m off here, just wait until the next time you get a “Sure!” or a “Sure.” And when you feel this smooth yet snarky word about to slip out, go with a sincere reply instead. Something like:

“Absolutely. I’m happy to help.”

Or, “You bet. I may need to move my schedule around but I think can do it.”

Whatever you decide, be kind. The business world in is short supply of this precious commodity, and honestly, what do you have to lose? By being kind and direct, people are more likely to see you as someone they can count on and are less likely to steamroll in the future.

Am I right? Sure I am.

Who farted? When business honeymoons end.

Remember when the love of your life let it rip for the first time?

Dad was painting his house when he heard JFK had been shot.

I was waiting for the bus on a dark December morning when I learned John Lennon was gone forever.

How strange that our brains index certain memories this way.

Do you remember where you were when that special someone — that gorgeous, intelligent person that seemed too good to be true — let one rip right in front of you for the very first time?

I grew up in a conservative, religious home. In a house full of kids, including adopted kids, neighborhood kids and foreign exchange kids. We were reared (pun intended) to be respectful. Especially when it came to containing bodily noises.

I had to attend Etiquette Class as a kid. Under no circumstance were you to fart in public … or as my mom called it, “passing wind”.

I made it through High School without ever hearing a member of the opposition sex cut the cheese. Stack of Bibles. And when I departed for college, I was under the impression this just wasn’t something girls did.

And then it happened.

If you have ever truly and completely loved someone, and then, for whatever reason, they pinch one off within earshot for the first time, it can be fairly traumatic.

Whether it sounded like a mouse squeak or a violent clap of thunder, it can be quite an unsettling experience for all involved.

Where am I going with this nonsense? Well, people do this metaphorically in business every day.

We work so hard to create new customers and develop meaningful working relationships. We go to extreme measures to impress others in order to convey our profound level of commitment, dedication and professionalism. And then, when everything appears to have reached unprecedented levels of goodness, the apple of your eye does the unthinkable. Or worse, you do. And nothing will ever be the same. But that’s OK. Because it isn’t natural for us to sustain this kind of unrealistic expectations in the first place.

The truth is, everybody farts. Literally and figuratively. Get over it.

The next time you catch yourself either trying to produce completely unrealistic results in order to impress a client or colleague, or worse, the next time you embarrass yourself by nearly sharting yourself in a collaborative situation, do yourself a favor. Follow these three simple steps:

1. Offer a simple apology. Then go for a really long walk.
2. After the walk, using 100 words or less, write down what you learned from the situation and what you can do to avoid doing it again.
3. If you can’t get face-to-face, call the person and talk through the situation. Whatever you do, find a way to inject some humor.

Here’s what I’ve experienced after most post-fart standoffs:

It doesn’t take long for everyone to see the situation as a shared experience. A gift, really … a kind of unique breakthrough that can lead to new levels of honesty, mutual respect and collaboration.

Why I’m Investing in Locally Sourced Purified Water

We are all getting ripped off.

Ignore the fact only one-percent of all the water on earth can be consumed by humans and two-thirds of this potable water is used for farming and industry.

Ignore the fact America’s water infrastructure is corroding from the inside out. Evidence shows us Flint, Michigan, is just the tip of the iceberg.

Ignore the fact as bottled water begins to outsell carbonated beverages, 70% of these water bottles—billions of petroleum-based bottles—will end up in landfills, streams, rivers and the ocean.

Many Americans are spending more than $100 every month chemically treating tap water in order to clean their hair, bodies, pets, laundry, dishes, homes and automobiles.

We buy single-serve water bottles from convenience stores at the rate of $12.95 per gallon which is FIVE TIMES what we pay for one gallon of gas.

We pride ourselves on “buying local” when it comes to the food we eat yet we consume bottled water that’s shipped thousands of miles despite the fact it is no better than purified tap water.

We drink craft beer and ultra premium wine, and pay a premium for organic and fair-trade foods … despite the fact we prepare these foods in tap water that contain biological contaminants and chemical pollutants.

The Federal Government says our tap water is safe to drink. And they’re right. Sort of.

While the city I live in boasts being ranked 71 out of the top 100 big U.S. cities when it comes to quality tap water, you will consistently find contaminants and chemicals none of us should be consuming on a daily basis.

Maybe I’m aging out here but all of this all sounds completely drunk to me.

Simply put, I believe we are too smart to keep buying single-serve water bottles.

And I believe we are far too smart to continue chemically treating our water and polluting the environment, when we can mechanically purify our water for less than we spend on our daily cup of coffee.

Purified tap water is better for our health and it saves us money.

Purified tap water forces us to manufacture, transport and dispose of less plastic. It leaves our local streams, rivers and oceans better off.

The smartest, most economical, and earth-friendly solution for our daily drinking water needs can be found in purified tap water.

This is why I’m investing in locally sourced purified water.

Your kid has ADHD. Congrats!

Disclaimer: For medical advice, consult your doctor. If you don’t have a primary care provider, get one. You can also read valid and useful information about ADHD and how it relates to kids on the Cleveland Clinic Children’s website.

Most of my peers in business (especially creatives) are ADHD, like me. The biggest difference is I’m properly medicated.

Let’s say you’ve got this kid and you don’t know what to do. Yesterday, you swore they were destined for the White House. Today, you’re convinced they must be hard-wired for taking the mob to new depths.

Look, I am not a doctor. I did spent six years of my career working with a handful of amazing physicians from in the world and they all agree with the following:

Annoying. Artistic. Curious. Daydreamer. Different. Difficult. Distracted. Energetic. Extreme. Gifted. Hilarious. Persistent. Spastic. Stubborn. Sweet. Obsessed.

Friends and family used these adjectives to describe me as a kid.

Being diagnosed ADHD was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I realized I had a gift; an untapped super power. I also learned a high percentage of incarcerated people have it too. I guess I was lucky someone forced me to get help.

As a kid (and young adult), my brain could not slow down. Ever. To focus, I did what millions of people like me do every day: self-medicate.

A cigarette in the morning will stimulate your brain very effectively. It also gives you horrible breath and often leads to cancer.

Really good, strong coffee can sustain you throughout day. It, too, leads to horrible breath and worse, it doesn’t always have brakes. So, the fastest and easiest way to slow a racing mind down is drinking alcohol.

This pathetic regimen led to exhaustion and sleep depravation. I got to the point I couldn’t read, watch TV, work on a computer, or even listen to music before I hit the sack. I had to be in complete darkness and silence to get my mind to idle.

Thankfully, a business partner (and diagnosed Adult ADHD patient) talked me into seeking treatment. I was 30 years old. I felt like 50.

After seeking professional help, my mental, emotional and professional life began to blossom almost immediately. My breath improved as well.

I was overcome with sadness and regret I hadn’t sought treatment at an earlier age. Why did I have to spent my entire academic career feeling like a dumbass? It was so unnecessary. It was completely preventable.

If you can believe this, halfway through my treatment, a few good-hearted friends tried to convince me to pray to God for healing … you, know, so I wouldn’t need to be a slave to a controlled substance for the rest of my life. Thank God, a priest cut them off at the pass. Here’s what he told me:

“Noah, God did heal you. It’s 18 milligrams and you take it once a day.”

If you or a loved one demonstrate the characteristics of someone living with ADHD, consider treatment. Explore options. Talk to people who live with ADHD as well as psychiatrists that successfully treat ADHD patients.

When it comes to kids who tend to fit the ADHD stereotype, please understand:

They see the world differently and that’s a good thing. They’re not trying to be difficult. No kid wakes up with the desire to be a pain in your ass all day. They need you to provide better outlets to think, dream, focus and express themselves.

My entire life, if everyone was running to the right to find a solution, I would go left. I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. I actually thought I was right. Half the time, we would all end up at the same solution and the net result was a good one because we now had a shared perspective.

Cut yourself (and especially your kid) some slack. Do some research and learn about how many great scientists, artists, entrepreneurs and world leaders are/were diagnosed ADHD.

And for God’s sake, start looking your kids in the eye to tell them how much you love them just they way they are. Help them discover their strengths (versus improving on their weaknesses) and keep pouring into those strengths like crazy.

I say “for God’s sake” because I believe God needs us as much as we need God. And I love the fact that it’s kids with ADHD that God sometimes does his best work.

Poopourri: When deals go bad

No one — and I mean nobody — enjoys fart humor more than my kids. Just ask their teachers.

Early in my career, a terribly successful entrepreneur and mentor taught me an invaluable lesson:

Everyone — and I mean everybody — poops.

The banker you’re meeting with, the investors shooting holes in your business plan, and yes, the girl of your dreams that seems so unobtainable ... they all go number two.

It was 1990-something and I had to screw my courage up and fly to New York to meet with a big shot at Dow Jones. This guy controlled a piece of software I needed. It didn’t humor him I was from west of the Hudson and was wearing cowboy boots. Short story: I earned exclusivity to that piece of software (which was valued at $2 million) for $70,000. Giddy’up.

One of the things that got me on the plane to NYC was knowing this guy wasn’t any better (or worse) than me. Sure, he was an Ivy Leaguer and made more in a week than I’d earn in a year, but we were the same. It took me a few more years to learn this ancient truth has a b-side … and it isn’t half as melodic.

In business and in life, the things we love can and will go to shit.

While some treasures are recoverable, like the tiny toy my kid ingested and, thank God, successfully “passed”, some golden nuggets are never coming back.

When this happens, even you, the most optimistic, tenacious bootstrapper on the block, must learn to accept it and move on.

But you probably won’t. Not at first.

“I can salvage this thing!”, you tell yourself.

“All I need is an expensive peace offering.”

“I’ll make them an offer they can’t refuse!”

The next thing you know, you’re that proverbial guy that stunk up the office lavatory after a long night of saki and bad sushi.

As in life, so it is in business: you cannot cover a deal gone bad with Lysol, candles or the incense your roommate uses to mask his use of Golden Goat.

Take it from an old pro … it’s time you learn to walk away with some dignity ... and make it snappy.

The next time you wake up and realize the amazing thing you had in your possession is sunk for good, dismount and walk away. Clean yourself up. Get a good night’s rest. And for goodness sake, stop talking about it.

The sun will come up and there’s a cup of coffee with your name on it somewhere. Gulp it down and open yourself up to new possibilities.

Oprah and the F Bomb

I love Oprah. I want to be her friend. I want my dog to be her dog’s friend. But she’s wrong.

Speaking to a graduating class at Harvard, Gayle King’s best friend sought to inspire a few brilliant, budding humans with these words of encouragement:

“There is no such thing as failure; failure is just life trying to move us in another direction.”

When I read this story, I was immediately reminded of the expression repeated by kind-hearted teachers, instructors and workshop facilitators everywhere: “There are no bad ideas!”

I hate to break it to you, kid, but there are tons of bad ideas. Tons. And we can’t get to a good idea until we mow through all of the shitty ones first.

So, too, it is with failure. Which leads us to today’s four-letter F-word.

At some point between the Vietnam War and Barney & Friends, American society began to disassociate itself from the idea of failure. I’m not suggesting losing was once a cardinal virtue; I just think there has been a deliberate attempt to deemphasize what it means for kids to experience failure.

As a young entrepreneur, I was fortunate to grow up in a home that not only acknowledged failure, we embraced it.

In my early days of launching and managing fledgling start-ups, I was lucky to be surrounded by older, wiser advisors who would teach me how to fail quickly and inexpensively. They would say things like, “Noah, that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard … if you do this, you’re going to lose your ass.” Every once in a while, they would also say, “Drop everything else you’re working on and make this idea happen.”

At each company I’ve helped, I’ve tried to create a fun and safe environment where talented people have the freedom to screw up. I would create “Best Idea Wins” contests to solve simple and sometimes intractable problems.

Many times, the best ideas came from summer interns like Veronique Valcu. Vero was a sophomore at Penn. Over a six-week internship, she helped us put together an idea that would land our little upstart on the stage of TEDGlobal.

Vero later told me that she was “this” close to accepting an internship in New York where she would have been a glorified coffee girl. You know what the golden rule is for coffee girls and boys? DON’T SCREW UP. The exact opposite of what I’m talking about.

Whether you’re striking out on your own or running a billion-dollar enterprise, don’t rob yourself and your teammates by ignoring the important role failure plays in human progress and development.

I’m reminded of what FDR said while sitting fireside during the darkest days of World War II: “There’s nothing to fear but fear itself.” 

For entrepreneurs, we need to conquer our fear of looking or sounding stupid. We need to master our fear of being wrong.

Killing (Gently Bruising) with Kindness

I was surprised (and happy) to recently hear Tom Peters rant about kindness of all things. It’s not a topic covered in business books, B-schools, or board rooms these days. Maybe ever.

My dad is one of the best-read guys you will meet. Even he gave a double take when I suggested kindness had to be one of the most underrated qualities among business leaders today.

In business and anything else that keeps score, kindness is often received as one thing and one thing only: weakness.

Mothers and teachers, grandfathers and preachers, they’ve all tried to persuade us to be kind; that kindness is more than just pleasantness. Kindness — and more precisely, intentional kindness in the form of genuine encouragement — is one of the elements that makes us human.

It has been my experience over the years that dispensing kindness as equitably as you can is the only way to go.

How old were you when you first heard, “Kill ’em with kindness”? I was in Sunday School where other boys with clip-on ties were taught to be kind to their enemies. Like the Good Book says, it’s like “putting hot coals on their head”, which as a kid, and even now, sounds awfully sinister.

This notion felt off to me. Why should I act nice to someone just to get back at them? Especially when I could knock their teeth out and be done with it.

Now that I’m older, here’s what I think they were trying to teach us before we raced off in our station wagon to beat the Baptists to the cafeteria:

Responding to unkind people with kindness is the dignified thing to do.

Of course it’s a hassle. It’s certainly unnatural. But leading with kindness has to be one of the best ways to prevent oneself from devolving into pettiness, resentfulness and ugliness — attributes that devalue ourselves and others.

Having bussed my fair share of tables as a kid, I got a taste for what it feels like to be treated as a nobody. On the flip-side, I also benefited from the kindness of strangers, whether it be a smile, kind word, or a small tip.

A friend reminded me today that learning how to serve others in our youth does three things for us: we learn to be a better people, we become better customers, and for many of us, we pride ourselves in being big tippers.

Take this to the bank:

The next time you are at dinner with a client, pay attention to how they treat the wait staff. Are they demanding? Do they talk down to them or ignore them completely? Did they leave a small tip or stiff the waiter completely?

If this is the case, you may be dealing with a unkind person. If my mom wasn’t reading this, I would say you’re dining with a total dick, a/k/a someone you shouldn't build a relationship with. You can try. But it rarely works out.

At the risk of being soft or being perceived as less-than strong, powerful, or in-control, do yourself and your world a favor: be kind in your dealings. You will reap more kindness than the kindness you sow. And the kindness you receive may be just the thing that opens a door of opportunity and sets you on a path towards greatness.

When a dream dies

 

Heartbroken disillusioned funk.

Rewind. Play. Stop.

Rewind. Play. Stop.

Rewind. Play. Pause.

Off.

Beauty, ugliness. Laughter, sadness.

Magical moments and regretful inaction.

All lingering guests remain.

Tripping and kicking at the threshold of your consciousness.

Take courage, young builder, Kick them all out!

For good.

Wipe the embarrassment off your chin.

Brush regret off the toes of your boots.

No matter how great or promising or real you think the dream,

it is dead.

It has been for some time.

It was once alive, no doubt. And it was good.

Wake up! Knock it off!

Get up off the ground, you fool. Leave this madness at once.

Open your eyes. See the stream of light just above your face.

It softly pierces the pane, dancing playfully with leafy silhouettes.

Look there! Just beyond the foggy dew.

See it rise. Slowly. Awkwardly.

There. Beyond the crooked hedgerows of recollection.

Though it wobbles and flops, it is taking flight.

Lifting slowly, sloppily, but most definitely up.

Up it goes from the eternal stream of newfound dreams.

Will you capture it? Should you?

Maybe. Possibly. I hope so. Yes?

Choose to be lucky. Let it sweep you off your feet.

Fly away and tell me what you see.

Why I (still) Launch in Tulsa

I received a call several years ago from a journalist I admired. CNN Money was doing profiles on U.S. entrepreneurs and their cities.

At the time, Tulsa was one of the few cities outlasting the Great Recession and our promising startup was one of a handful of tech companies based in Tulsa. The series was called, “Why I launched Here”. It featured entrepreneurs from both large and small cities in the U.S.

My friends and I were bullish on our city but only a few actually believed Tulsa was destined for an economic and cultural renaissance.

Looking back, you cannot recognize this place from 10 years ago. What once used to be the, “Oil Capital of the World”, has slowly and deliberately developed into a sophisticated city fueled by a new kind of energy.

The New York Times recently reported Tulsa was emerging as a “Hipster Hub”. Over the past year, we’ve got a few people talking.

No. 1 Tulsa, OK — 10 Best Cities For Young Entrepreneurs, Forbes

No. 1 Tulsa, OK — 10 Affordable Cities, Huffington Post

No. 5 Tulsa, OK — Most Affordable Big Cities in the U.S., Kiplinger

No. 14 Tulsa, OK — America’s 50 Best Cities, Bloomberg

No. 47 Tulsa, OK — 52 Places to Go in 2015, New York Times

So here we are, nearly 10 years later, and I’m still here. More importantly, I’m still helping to launch new ventures I believe in … right here in Tulsa.

Why, you ask? It’s quite simple:

Education: Tulsa has world-class public and private schools. We have OU Tulsa, OSU Tulsa, and one of the most innovative community colleges (TCC) in the country. Above all, we have The University of Tulsa which is giving the Ivy League a run for their money.

Neighborhoods: Beautiful, affordable historic houses near downtown and along the Arkansas River. Our community is funding a $300 million “Gathering Place” along Tulsa River Parks that will rival Central Park.

Culture: Gilcrease Museum, Philbrook Museum, Woody Guthrie, Bob Dylan, Circle Cinema, Arts Alliance Tulsa, Tulsa Garden Center, and Tulsa Art Deco.

Music: The Hop Jam, Sound Pony, Colony, Vanguard, Cain’s Ballroom, Brady Theatre, BOK Center, Public Radio Tulsa.

Community: Tulsa Farmer’s Market, Tulsa Tough, Route 66 Marathon, Tulsa Run, Food on the Move, Kitchen 66.

Shopping: Utica Square, Center 1, Dwelling Spaces, Whole Foods, Sprouts, Natural Grocer’s, Trader Joe’s, Reasor’s.

Coffee: Topeca, Hodges Bend, DoubleShot, Kolache, Cafe Cubana, Shades of Brown, CHOCS, Nordaggio’s.

Dining: Tallgrass, Lucky’s, Palace Cafe, Laffa, Ri Le, Mondo’s, Yokozuna, Tavern, Bull in the Alley, Stonehorse, Chimera, Trenchers, Boston Deli, and the soon-to-be Prairie Brewpub.

Food Trucks: Lone Wolf Banh Mi, Lola’s Gypsy Caravan, Lick Your Lips Mini-Donuts, Mr. Nice Guys, The Parish.

Craft Beer: Prairie Artisan Ales, Marshall, Dead Armadillo, Hanson Bros.

Libations: Valkyrie, Hodge’s Bend, Bramble, McNellie’s, Fassler Hall, Dust Bowl, Sound Pony.

The most awesome convenience stores on planet earth and a locally based privately held business doing $12.5 billion in annual sales: QuikTrip!

For you young turks looking to create a dynasty, get your butts to Tulsa and set up shop at 36ºNorth. This is the kind of place where you may just want to launch your next venture.

Chief Soul Officer

You’ve got soul or you don’t.

No matter how depressing the news may get in the United States, or how outraged other countries get with our politics, when I travel to the farthest corners of the globe, I always find people who are madly in love with America.

What makes this country so irresistible? 

Well, it’s obviously in the music of Miles Davis. It’s in the bubbles of an ice cold bottle of Coca-Cola. It’s definitely in a new pair of Air Jordans.

I’m talking about soul.

Not the genre of funk mastered by James Brown and Aretha Franklin; I’m pointing towards a more esoteric, spiritual sense of the word.

There was — and is — an undeniable energy we possess in America that cannot be found anywhere else. This quality was perfected sometime between 1776 and the creation of Pixar. It’s this crazy idea that anything is possible.

Anything.

And herein lies the tragedy. Fewer and fewer Americans are experiencing this mental-emotional-spiritual state of being soulful.

As an entrepreneur, what concerns me most is the rapid speed in which it’s being sucked out of our culture. I’m not piling on corporate greed or big government. I’m saying Main Street in America is losing its soul.

Visit the restroom in the most popular restaurant, shop or theatre in town. Many of them are disgusting. Or try calling your health insurance company or the lawn mower repair guy and ask for same-day service.

It’s my belief that this culture wouldn’t exist if the owners and managers of businesses had the courage to empower someone in their organization to focus exclusively on meeting the needs of the people they’re suppose to serve.

Let’s call this person the Chief Soul Officer.

To prove my point, here’s a challenge for any business owner or CEO. See if you can answer, “Yes” to four or more of the following questions. If so, your organization has soul! (If not, you don’t need me to tell you Elvis has left the building.)

1. Direct competitors consider your offering to be among the best in class.
2. Employees and customers refer to your offering as “great”.
3. Spouses/Partners of employees say you provide excellent wages/benefits.
4. The smartest kids in your city want to go to work for your company.
5. Local schools/nonprofits refer to your company as a community partner.

Companies with soul produce undeniably great stuff … from paper clips to rocket ships. They consistently greet and know their customers by name. They cannot keep bright, passionate people away from wanting to get hired. They radiate employee, company and community pride.

So find your company’s soul! Bust out of the crowd of peers that bitch about Obamacare, the tax code, or whatever the trending media piñata is that’s consuming cable TV. These things have no impact on the way you serve others and they don’t do a damn thing towards maintaining clean restrooms.

Like my friend Bob Goff likes to say: Choose to be awesome! And not just went people are looking. Soul reverberates from the inside out. From the bottom to the top.

The trouble with uncurious people

Chances are, the people you work with are bright. And uncurious.

Near the top of my list of things entrepreneurs can stop doing in order to inch closer to greatness, this is a big one.

Did you know she graduated from Harvard?

[Big shot] said we can’t afford to lose him.

I hear she’s about to take another offer.

He is so connected. He’ll bring in so much business!

These are some of the stupid things we say before hiring uncurious people.

Assuming a person’s resume and references are exception and they actually fit the bill in terms of qualifications, what if you went a few extra steps and determined just how curious they really are?

Ask them about their favorite music, movies, food, pets, hobbies … anything that ignites a spark of passion. No spark? Maybe no hire.

Whoa … she just got really fired up talking about her cat Cobain!

Interesting name for a cat, you think. OK. Turn on your Passion-O-Meter and let’s find out how curious this woman really is.

How many cats are we talking about?

Why cats and not dogs? (Response limited to one minute!)

How did she find the cat? (Expensive import? Animal rescue?)

Is she a Nirvana fan? Does kitty smell like teen spirit?

That’s when she tells you she livestreamed her cat 24/7 while attending graduate school. That’s right: Cobain has 5,412 followers on Instagram. Turns out, Ellen Degeneres tweeted happy birthday to Cobain. On live TV.

See where I’m going with this?

This is the point where we lose many of our HR friends who use algorithms and online subscriptions for “acquiring” talent. Which is too bad. Because this is precisely how many of them screw themselves out of hiring right. 

Software can’t evaluate people at the soul level. Not yet. And if we can’t tap into a person’s inner creator, this is a problem. Even if you’re a bookkeeper.

If you’re the praying kind, you probably believe like me, that we are all born to create. This makes us C-U-R-I-O-U-S. Creators are not satisfied until they understand how stuff works and why things cannot be made better.

I’m sure there must be a scientific method for identifying a candidate’s level of curiosity, and if there is, it needs to be made more accessible to entrepreneurs. In the the meantime, stop considering new hires because they simply match a job profile. Look for people who demand to know what’s next? What happens if I succeed? What happens if we fail? 

What else can I do? Where else can I go? What’s possible?

Curiosity may kill cats but it may be just the thing that your venture needs.