On Saturday, one of the founders in our portfolio called to let me know that one of the executives at the company was leaving. He wants to move to cross country for personal/family reasons.
Typically when a great person is thinking about leaving a portfolio company my instinct is to help the founder keep the person onboard.
But instead of hanging up the phone and calling the person, I opted to just let it go.
About 13 years ago, I moved cross country with my family 3k miles for personal/family reasons so I can totally relate.
But there was another voice in my head. The one that said, life is too short. I am supportive of doing what you need to do as long as it’s done with care and respect.
Last week a man died in our town. He was just 53 and I’m told he died in his sleep. My wife knows his wife. My daughter goes to school with his daughter. It’s unbelievably tragic. I can’t imagine what his family is going through. This was a portion of the post his wife left on Facebook:
S**** loved us; we were his life and he ours. So today I ask you to look around you, look into your partner’s eye’s; your child’s eye’s; your friend’s eye’s. Tell them how much they mean to you. On this day and always, live like S**** would live; take that run, take that sail, walk your dogs , drink that rum and coke sitting on the deck blaring your favorite music! My challenge to my family and friends is this: Give me a wave as you drive by the house, sit and have a cup of coffee or a glass of wine with me, hug me and my girls when you see us, plant a tree in my yard . And please remember what Father C**** reminded us of…”Three things will last forever-faith, hope, and love- and the greatest of these is love.”
This weekend I’ve been often thinking about his dear family. He was just 8 years older than me. And just 3 years older than my wife’s father when he passed of a massive heart failure at 50 years of age.
So kiss your family and take a deep breath. Decide what you are doing tomorrow and the next day. Make it count. And do what you love, because life is way too short.
“What’s the moral here? For years, pundits and politicians have insisted that guaranteed health care is an impossible dream, even though every other advanced country has it. Covering the uninsured was supposed to be unaffordable; Medicare as we know it was supposed to be unsustainable. But it turns out that incremental steps to improve incentives and reduce costs can achieve a lot, and covering the uninsured isn’t hard at all. When it comes to ensuring that Americans have access to health care, the message of the data is simple: Yes, we can.”—The Medicare Miracle - NYTimes.com
My oldest daughter is going into 10th grade. School starts next week in our town.
Over the summer her AP world history teacher assigned over 300 pages of reading and a lengthy writing assignment. Her english and biology teacher also assigned summer reading. She has a test during the first week at school.
My other daughter who is 12 had summer work and so did my 8 year old son.
I was an active kid growing up. But I also had free time. I could attend school, play sports and have time to teach myself guitar and play in an awful cover punk band. I hung out with my friends and spent time hacking away on my BMX bike or finding new wheels for my skateboard.
It felt like I had all the time in the world.
It’s fairly obvious my kids are all smarter than me. They certainly get better grades than I did and have a better work ethic. They are also better athletes. Mostly I’m proud they are kind and love each other (even if they want to kill each other and me from time to time).
But I feel like there is tendency to push these kids well beyond what’s necessary and they are racing against the clock.
I need to figure out ways to hit the pause button. Or at least find it.
“So my advice is always pretty much the same – ‘good portrait and documentary photography has very little to do with equipment and technique. Spend a year learning how to use your camera and then devote the rest of your life to learning about people’.”—Phil Kneen
“The best fashion shooter I ever met just had one lens. It was a Hasselblad 150. The front element looked as though someone had put a cigarette out on it. She didn’t own any other lens so she never had to think about which lens she would use or how she would work. She just did her work and it was stellar. No choices, just the right choice. No confusion just vision. Amazing. But now we’re all so fearful we feel like we need to have “all of our bases covered” even when we’re just doing this for fun. That’s why it’s not as much fun.”—The Visual Science Lab.: What I learned when I dragged a Hasselblad on vacation. The myth of perfection.