Category Archives: Life

Yesterday I had coffee with a San Francisco-based VC who’s lived and studied in the Bay Area his whole life. “On the one hand I feel like I should explore the east coast a bit….” he said. I interjected: “Hey — it’s hard to leave!” We both grinned.

Two nights ago I met some school friends. One guy just got a tattoo on his arm with “Oro un Paz, Fierro en Guerra” (Gold in Peace, Iron in War) — the San Francisco motto. As we were talking I looked at my own clothes. Through sheer happenstance I was wearing a “The City” t-shirt, SF Giants authentic MLB fleece, and a “The City” hooded sweatshirt. Everyone in the Bay Area refers to San Francisco as The City. When I was in Europe and an American asked me where I was from, I’d always say “The City” and then have to quickly correct myself.

Three nights ago I went to a “Toast to the Bay – Celebrate the 415” barbecue at Crissy Field some college-aged friends organized, before they head off to their chilly locales around the country. Awesome setting near the Warming Hut overlooking the bay, Alcatraz, and the Palace of Fine Arts.

Last night I had a meeting at the San Francisco Chronicle. The VP of their online division noted how the Chron web site is much farther along than other newspaper web sites. One guy said, “For example, on our site when you register, the gender field has three options: male, female, and undecided.” That’s what I love about San Francisco.

I guess what makes me sad is that Chris Yeh‘s kids are going to have no city pride. I mean, who really wants wear 650 on their sleeve?

Andy Sack, a successful entrepreneur, good guy, and born-again blogger, asks:

I have a question for the blogosphere —
Is the world more fucked up today than it was 20 years ago?

Absolutely not. There’s never been a better time to live. Putting aside all the very obvious modernization advances which expand and deepen what we can do during our short time on this planet, there are also various positive social indicators. In America at least, teen pregnancy is down, child poverty is down, teen suicide is down, drunk driving is down, violent crime is down.

Pining for the good ole days is old-person-talk. There’s never been a better time to be alive! So, go live!

Freshman year in high school I was labeled "anti-hug" (I’ve never recovered) because I didn’t want to cater to the utterly insane American practice (always with girls, sometimes with guys) of hugging someone when you meet them and when you say goodbye. I looked forward to business meetings, a reprise from such social awkwardness due to the dominance of the handshake. No questions ask, shake hands at beginning, shake hand at the end. The pitfalls are easy to avoid: don’t offer a dead fish (ie, make it firm) and don’t put out your hand too early. A premature shake — done when conversation is still going — often leads to yet another shake before you part ways, undoubtedly a damper on an otherwise outstanding chit chat.

So when I hear guys like Donald Trump write off the hand shake as a waste of time and haven for germs I say, "Yo, Donny, be thankful. It ain’t nothing compared to high school, and not even close to what our European friends have to go through."

If you want to understand the maze of possible handshake / hug greetings by people under age 25, check out this hilarious CollegeHumor article, complete with graphical illustrations. From personal experience, there’s no worse feeling than going "for a pound" (leaving a clenched fist out after a shake) and the other person not responding with a pound themselves right until you drop your fist right as they go to touch it. Race, as always, complicates matters. A white-to-white shake is usually different than a white-to-black, or black-to-black.

After visiting 10 European countries I can safely say, however, that these kinds of challenges don’t even compare to what the poor Spanish and French have to go through. Kissing both sides of the cheek still rules the day. "Kissing" is imprecise: you touch your cheek against the other person’s and then make a kissing sound with your lips. How bizarre is that? Most Europeans I met don’t find it worth the effort, but do it because they have to. They also have their gripes about the American system, though. Imagine how it feels to walk into a meeting with gung-ho Americans and receive the ultimate symbol of business affection: the bear hug, a full body wrap where both people slap their big, sloppy hands against each other’s back.

My wish is the world would evolve toward two very simple level of greetings, whether it be social or business: if you meet a stranger or a weak relationship it’s a simple handshake. If you’re closer to the person you use your other arm to give a half-hug or a squeeze on the upper arm/lower shoulder.

My friend and super successful entrepreneur Trevor Traina told me at dinner a few months ago that the way he thinks about happiness is the little things. If you love chocolate, have a piece of chocolate each day. If you love music, get your favorite songs on your iPod. If you really love a good cup of coffee, get the best coffee beans and make it in the morning. Whatever it is for you, find something small that you can do each day. We often forget that most of our existence is spent sleeping, eating, showering/going to the bathroom, or driving/moving. Integrating some little things into our habits that give bursts of pleasure is a Good Thing.

In this spirit, I’ve found myself eating a lot of ice cream here in Europe. Ice cream outlets are pervasive — probably because it’s so hot. But last night, wandering along a boardwalk on the beach in San Sebastian, Spain, with an ice cream cone (two scoops of the same flavor — don’t try to mix and match) I pondered a difficult question: Cone or cup?

Ice cream in a cone has several advantages. Most notably, once you’ve consumed the ice cream, you can devour the cone. Yum. It’s also the more "classic" way to eat ice cream, especially if you extenuate the tongue action. However, it starts dripping from one side and your hands get messy. I find myself rushing through the cone just to make sure it doesn’t drip all over me, instead of savoring each lick.

On the other hand, ice cream in the cup is less messy. You can savor and it lasts longer. There’s also a kind of sophisticated, "I’m an adult now" spirit in using a spoon and performing a flourish after sucking the cream off the spoon and removing it from mouth.

Like all important decisions in my life, I leave this one up to you, dear reader. Cone or cup? Is there truly a Better Way?

My happiness depends on it.

It’s a common letdown.

Graduated students visit their old school and see new buildings, different classes, unfamiliar faces.

People visit the town they used to live in and discover that the stores they visited as a kid have gone out of business, the book store is no longer on the street it used to be on, and that friendly neighbor grew old and died.

Early founders of large companies no longer active in the day-to-day management make a triumphant visit to the company’s headquarters and find a completely different corporate culture, "unnecessary" bureaucracy, and so forth.

The point is that places change. Buildings are destroyed. Shit happens. Ultimately, the most lasting memories are those rooted in people.

When I arrived in Zurich a couple days ago, I found a city virtually unchanged from when I spent three weeks here last summer. But as I reconnected with my wonderful friends and "family" here, it struck me that the reason why I love Zurich is only partly because it’s a great city. Mostly it’s the people. Zurich, for me, will be the personalities I spent time with, not the City’s museums, parks, or physical contours.

I’ve been on the road for only two weeks and the places I’ve been are already starting to blur. But not the people I’ve met.

The best way, then, to rekindle old memories is to stay connected with the people who had those shared experiences. The process is more physic than physical. Memories rooted in people are immortal.