Gifts Under $5 USD

"Every gift from a friend is a wish for your happiness."
- Richard Bach, author of Jonathan Livingston Seagull

A few days ago my friend Amanda told me about how she and a group of her co-workers fight over who buys coffee each day during their coffee break. I am not sure if she was referencing a study or just an astute observation, but her comment to this is that most people get an inordinate about of joy over buying gifts for people that are $5 USD or less. I guess my subconscious picked up on this, and applied this to my life semi-inadvertently.

Last week one of my favorite co-workers was wearing a beautiful pressed shirt, but his collar was flopping around. I mentioned that I would bring him some collar stays last week, picked up some over the weekend using a coupon I had, and placed them on his laptop today. It was amazing how much of a kick I got out of giving someone a packet of collar stays, and how much they appreciated the small gift. On a go-forward basis, I am going to try to give out one small gift each week, and see what happens.

Namaste

Reading Material

The writing well has been dry lately. The things that I have written have been my equivalent of pop-art. They count as material, but there isn't a whole lot of soul behind them. This stems from a simple fact: things are good right now. Things are going well at work, I'm handling personal relationships better--my latest dating spat ended before it really began, but I handled it well--and I am handling my current training cycle with a never before seen dispassion. I've started to get away from the absolute granular way of looking at the world that has helped me make great personal progress, but has also caused commensurate pain. Less pain = less processing = less writing.

I have been reading a lot of great stuff lately. Below are three pieces that I've been chewing on the past week. The last one is from Nina Schuyler, the greatest writer that nobody has ever heard of. She published a book in 2004 called The Painting which is amazing. It's my literary secret weapon. For approximately $20 USD and a trip to Amazon.com, it can be yours as well.

1. http://www.esquire.com/features/graceful-exit-0500

2. http://www.esquire.com/features/sports/the-string-theory-0796?click=main_sr

3. http://www.biguglyreview.com/fight/fiction_nina_schuyler.html

Namaste

Ten Essentials

"And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
- Antoine de Saint-Exupery, taken from The Little Prince

General Reference: http://men.style.com/fashion/10_essentials/090308?mbid=rss_msnf

While perusing the web version of GQ, I came across a section called 10 Essentials. I would have completely passed this over under normal circumstances, but the 10 Essentials that were being featured were from tennis legend Bjorn Borg. It was interesting to see what Borg considered essential or very enjoyable. Some were soul deep, and the others were completely superficial.

Over the past few weeks I've asked several people what they consider essential. It has become sort of a game over time with following ground rules: (1) People are not appropriate for this list; (2) Stores or any place that sells goods or services are eligible for consideration; (3) Experiences are applicable as well like "My weekly breakfast with Joe,"; (4) Concepts or general things like "the Internet," "email," "the Muni line" or "travel" are not applicable. It sounds a lot easier to come up with ten than it really is. With these things in mind, here are my ten essentials:

1. Sticky notes: Early on in my career I had a tendency to get overwhelmed with all the things that had to be done. It wasn't so much the work that scared me, it was more of the timing of the work and managing priorities appropriately. I don't know what triggered it, but one day I just reached for a sticky note, started writing down the tasks I had to do, and stopped when I ran out of space. It was just big enough to help me determine what needed to be done to make meaningful progress, but not too big that I felt overwhelmed. When my list is complete I make another list. I figure I go through a pad a week.

2. White Dress Shirts: My former employer was a much more formal work place than my current one. My signature style came to be dark slacks, white dress shirt. It was a simple combination. I always feel great wearing a pressed white dress shirt, cuff links optional. Right now I have about five that I rotate through.

3. iPod: I use it at work to drown out the background noise, and I will occasionally use it when I go on long runs. Right now I am listening to a lot of Van Morrison and Chris Isaak.

4. Coffee: I have a cup in the morning, and a cup in the afternoon during the work week. Back when I lived in San Francisco I would frequent local places like the Buena Vista Cafe, Tartine Bakery, and my video rental store to get my fix. I'd much rather have a real person benefit from my addiction than a massive corporation. Needless to say, I get the fix from Starbucks now.

5. Sperry Topsider Deck Shoes: As a little kid I always thought that you had to wear socks with shoes or else something horrible would happen--either your feet would smell really bad, or you would get a horrible rash. My uncle showed up one day wearing a pair of deck shoes, no socks. The whole afternoon I was fixated on his "socklessness." I got my first pair in 2005. I only own dress shoes, running shoes, and a pair of these. I guess that makes them my utility shoes.

6. The Barber Shop: Big surprise, huh? I also get my shoes shined there as well. It's relaxing and very 1950s masculine.

7. GQ Magazine: Over a year ago I was having a horrendous day, and needed a break. I walked across the street to Borders, and picked up the latest edition of this magazine. I sat outside my office building after work with a cup of coffee, and just lost myself in this semi-delusional world. How many people do you know in real life that spend $1,000 USD on a short-sleeve shirt? But the magazine has some good articles about people dealing with real issues, and killer stories about travel. If I can time a hair cut, a shoe shine, and picking up a copy of the new GQ I call this a "three star day."

8. TYR Goggles: Simple fact: chlorine burns. These goggles are the only ones that fit my face, and keep the burning sensation to a minimum.

9. Arnette Sunglasses: I am currently sporting the "Asylum" model--black frames with black polarized lenses.

10. Black Oxford cap toes: I have two pair in the rotation right now: one that I purchased in 2006 that has been resoled once, and another that I purchased this year. According to GQ, brown shoes add a certain pop. I would agree, but black cap toes are timeless and classic to the point that they are invisible. Maybe more importantly, black shoes shine up much nicer than brown shoes and the wear and tear on them is much less visible. People may not be taken by my shoes, but they will notice how well the shoes are shined, even the back of the shoe, compliments of my friends at the barber shop.

Thoughts on Shaving

"After all, most writing is done away from the typewriter, away from the desk. I'd say it occurs in the quiet, silent moments, while you're walking or shaving or playing a game, or whatever, or even talking to someone you're not vitally interested in.”
- Henry Miller

While on a recent road trip, I forgot my shaving cream. Shaving dry is the equivalent of chewing rocks: if you have to due to circumstances outside of your control, then you do it. There was a drug store around the corner so I went looking for substitute shaving cream. As I am walking down the toiletries aisle, a miniature can of Barbasol shaving cream--the can with the red and white strips--catches my eye. It's ninety-nine cents. Done.

Back in high school, Fr.Kevin Dillworth told the whole class that you'll get a much closer, painless shave if you let your face "warm up" in the morning. It's the grooming equivalent of putting a lawn mower in the sun for a few minutes before you pull the chord. I go get a workout in, my face warms up, getting semi-oily from a deep sweat, and I shave before I shower. I put in a fresh razor blade, turn on the water, release a good sized portion of Barbasol shaving cream on my hands, and take an extra deep breath.

I remember seeing the red and white can in my grandpa's medicine cabinet, remembering how shaving cream was almost a toy when I was five. Sometimes I would climb on to the bathroom counter, put it on my hands and clap them together--white foam going to the floor rug, and on to the counter.

I remember looking for shaving cream in my grandpa's medicine cabinet--a different house, and a different grandpa. I don't remember finding any shaving cream, but I remember finding a straight edge razor. His razor had a pear handle, resembling more a weapon than a razor. The razors that I was familiar with were blue plastic with two shiny blades. I wondered how a person could use such a thing without cutting themself every time they shaved.

It was a clipped version of Remembrance of Things Past. Smell is intimately intertwined with memory. The budget shaving cream in the red and white can brought back a wave of memories.

The other thing I think about when I randomly think about shaving is the movie I'll Sleep When I'm Dead. In the movie Clive Owen plays a London mob boss--the Saville Row version of Michael Corleone--who is so overcome with guilt and remorse that he abandons his life and becomes a lumberjack. A few years of doing this, and he finds out that his brother has died, and he returns home to sort things out. He spends most of the movie channelling Steve McQueen: he says little, broods much, and stomps around London in a pair of nasty jeans and abused flannel shirts. I'd submit that some of the early 1900s sharecroppers dressed better than he does.

Most of the movie is set-up for the last fifteen minutes. Clive Owen's character gets to the bottom of things, and goes to collect his major remaining possessions--a vintage Jaguar, a bespoke suit, a suitcase full of money, and a gun--which are locked up under a semi abandoned night club he owns. He washes the car, goes to a hotel, showers, has the suit cleaned and steamed, and his barber shows up to take care of the grooming. I'm not sure what the technical word for this shot is, but in one instant we see the gross beard and tangled hair, and in a blink we see a fully barbered man--his face clean shaven, and the trimmed dark hair with a wet sheen.

The scene is haunting. I've spent a good chunk of time thinking about this scene. Although I disagree with it philosophically, the scene is pointing out that people don't change. Under the gross hair, stubble, and ragged clothes their lies the brutal mob boss. He may have gone dormant for a period of time, but he's still there.

Namaste

Liquor, Women and Tears

"Alcohol may be man's worst enemy, but the Bible says love your enemy.”
- Frank Sinatra

I wish that the title had something to do with my life, but it doesn't. In fact, I haven't had a drink in over a week, recently met someone wonderful, and haven't cried for quite some time. The title refers to a high-end retail store in Tokyo. I was researching pocket squares and came across this name. It's completely random, but it certainly caught my attention.

The writing well has been a tad on the dry side lately. There are about four pieces of writing I have in the hopper, but haven't been able to finish. I don't hit the "Publish Post" button until the word feel right, and I haven't been able to get to that place for a few weeks now. The pipeline is there, but it's missing something that I can't put my finger on. We'll see what happens.

As I mentioned, I met someone earlier this week that I am excited about. Looking back over the past seven years, I usually met somone that has the "WOW" quality once a year. This "thing" isn't always the same; there are usually certain characteristics that this feeling seems to lean towards. I'm still processing things here, but she has it. Sometimes these things take off and have a life and an energy all their own; other times they fall apart at the seems and disintegrate. We'll see how this one plays out.

Interestingly enough, I had an interesting conversation with a friend about love this past week. We both agreed that love is terrifying. If you are with someone that you really care about, you recognize that they have the capability to throw your life into a total tailspin very easily. I've never gone beyond the "love/terror" combination. I am guessing that depth and trust come after that part, but I wonder if the terror ever leaves.

Went wine scouting over the weekend. My cousin has a birthday coming up, she doesn't like a large fuss made about her birthdays, but she said point blank: "I will never turn down a good bottle of wine." It must be her Spanish heritage speaking here. I am pretty sure what I will get her. I just need to see if I can find the same bottle at other stores, and see if there is any price fluctuation that I can take advantage of.

Those are my thoughts for this weekend. We'll see if anything else formulates over the week and is worth of the "Publish Post" button.

Namaste

Hanging with Yoda

"Martial arts have always been rife with mythology; warriors will boast, and men will make legends of their heroes, teachers, and fathers. Every martial arts has its own path to victory, to invulnerablity, to freedom from fear. If you study with this teacher, and practice the moves ten thousand times, no one can defeat you; you will never need to be afraid again. The secrets of the Ancients, the Death Touch, the one-inch punch; stories of mystical teachers who can move people without touching them. Mysticism and martial arts go hand in hand, and every school mythologizes its instructors."
- Sam Sheridan, as taken from A Fighter's Heart

Last weekend I had the pleasure of spending some time with one of my foremost professional mentors: the legendary Bernie Colpitts. I drove like a mad man on Friday--a week ago--morning to meet him in San Diego, picked him up at the airport, and then we went and saw Dave Matthew Band play that night. That "day" started at 3 AM on Friday morning and ended at 1 AM on Saturday morning, and is probably part of the reason why my body went into protest mode a few days ago. I guess I'm not 22 anymore. Regardless of the physical shut-down last weekend served as a marker as to how far I have come in my professional life.

I've spoken much about Sean Reeder, the current director of my group, and the influence he has had on me professionally. At the time when I started working under Sean, Bernie was Sean's boss. If we stick with the whole Star Wars them here, Sean would be Obi-Wan, and Bernie is Master Yoda.

Accounting, much like the martial arts, is based on a master-apprentice relationship. The gifted probably don't need a master to study under, but the great chop-socky movies aren't about gifted students. The movies and images that come to mind for me personally stick to a pretty tight schedule: an unruly student appears before a great master, their skills are non-existent--questionable at best--but their is some intangible quality that the student possesses, and the master, or roshi as the Japanese would say, agrees to train them. The master then breaks down their body through a serious of seemingly pointless physical tasks--along with their ego--they are taught the fundamentals of a fighting system, and then comes my favorite part: the training montage--where the once weak, awkward student transforms themself through the rigourous training process into a warrior. The movie then caps with the transformed student taking on a gifted, but misguided warrior and defeating them in martial combat. It's a simple formula, but it's endlessly satisfying--at least for a person in my demographic.

Bernie's method's were similar. He'd show you how to do something the right way, and expect that the work you would produce would be done the right way. The phrase he was fond of saying was: "The work should be crisp." The word "crisp" makes me think of Stefan Edberg's backhand volley: no backswing, minimal racquet movement, proper positioning and weight transfer, the ball met out in front. In short, he expected his colleagues to produce work that was technically correct, presented cleanly, and appropriate in execution. It was a high standard, the standard of a professional.

Along the way, he certainly had me do a lot of things that didn't make a lot of sense right off the cuff, but seem to be the most effective way to do things now. Each time we would have changes made to a filing prior to our submission to the SEC, he would issue the same marching orders: "Foot, cross-foot, clean tie-out. Be quick, but don't hurry." After my first 10-Q I knew the drill cold. It was annoying and often seemed like busy work at the time; now I recognize the precision necessary to craft a such a product, and this is one of the necessary steps.

If I had to boil down the lessons that the man taught me to one word it would be this: "care." When you do something, you put in the necessary time to read the accounting guidance, look for industry best practices, amerliorate the material together, address the business concerns, and present the information cleanly. To do this you had to work with care, care about the people that such analysis would affect as well as the business processes that such analysis would potentially change.

Bernie left our shared place of employment back in 2006 to take on an executive position at a different company in the Pacific Northwest. I would shortly be leaving after him, only to return back to the Company after a hiatus of a year and a few months. And when we met up this past weekend, I had an opportunity to thank him for taking the time and "care" to pass on such lessons.

Maybe more importantly, during our time together I got to talk with him about some of the technical issues that his company is working through to discover that I understood the overwhelming majority of what he was talking about. It was a marker as to the technical base that has begun to formulate of the years.

At one point we were talking over dinner and Bernie said, "Sometimes when I am working on a problem, I wonder is it would have taken Steve Rivers or Lewis Moorehead as long to work through it." Regardless of how far you come and how good you truly become, it appears that most people will always hold their teachers in a place of great honor in their minds.

As I was writing out the formula for a chop-socky movie, it became apparent that the qualities of transformation and improvement for both professional development and martial arts training are very similar: an codified efficient system practiced with focus, direction by a teacher, and a moral center always seems to trump a bloated ego and talent in spades. You can get caught up with position, individuals' perceived salaries, but these things are really superfluous. I would suspect that most people are aware of such things, but it takes a certain "stomach" to pick a path, stay the course and work without ego.

Namaste