Category Archives: Life

Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "Do one thing that scares you each day." On Sunday, I did something which scared me. I went to a shooting range, held a gun for the first time, and fired it about a dozen times.

People talk about being desensitized to violence thanks to the news media and TV shows like 24. Yeah, right. I’ve seen a lot of shooting and gore second-hand but it didn’t prepare me for the shivers I felt when someone in the lane next to us took out some super duper gun ("Magnum" something) which shot out an an orange ball and made the whole building tremble. (It reminded me of wandering down the back alleys of Kunming, China, or any street in India — I thought I was prepared for the poverty, but I wasn’t.)

I went to the range with my friend Kai Chang, a gun enthusiast in the Bay Area who was visiting Colorado. Kai was exceedingly kind and generous in describing the mechanics of guns, the shooting subculture in America, safety procedures, and the like.

I aimed at a target about 15-20 feet away. The first time I fired the gun, my arm jerked back in a kind of unconscious shock. Didn’t take long to normalize the reaction. After all, it’s not a hard procedure — load the gun with ammo, pull back some lever, then pull the trigger.

The two employees of the range were stereotypical: both were wearing "USA" shirts and hats and one made a snide, proactive remark about gun control. An American flag hung in the back. Why is it that these kind of people are also excessively patriotic?

When all was said and done, I was happy to learn about how to hold, load, and shoot a gun (who knows when I’ll need that skill), but still miffed at how this "sport" is supposed to be a "recreation". Clearly, it is, and I totally respect someone’s right to pursue it.

Thanks very much Kai for bringing me along and introducing me to this fascinating sub-culture of America! And for a great dinner and six hours of conversation!

At Monday evening’s 24 gathering, as the ping-pong smack talk between local angel investor David Cohen and me began, Brad Feld took me aside, looked me firm in the eye and said, "I want you to beat him, you understand?"

"I’ll do my best, sir," I said to The Man.

"Losers say they’ll do their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen," Brad could have responded (he didn’t), the immortal words from Nicholas Cage in The Rock.

Tuesday morning David showed up at my condo with a water bottle, sports pants, and a tennis tournament t-shirt. I was dressed in baggy shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt (all my t-shirts seem too tight — guess I’m wearing hand-me-downs from my brothers). We both went into the bathroom and produced urine samples, the standard practice in competitive table tennis. Overdramatization aside, we played five very competitive matches, sweat streaming down my face by the fourth game.

I would have rather not shared who won 3 out of the 5 games, but I guess it’s common knowledge: When I showed up to a Mobius VC company board meeting today, Brad noted, "I hear you lost in ping-pong." I mumbled something incoherent, the guilt like toothpaste out of a tube — once it’s out, it’s out — and Brad repeated, "I hear you lost in ping-pong." I could muster only the most embarrassing of smiles, and pulled out my BlackBerry and typed a quick note: "Kick David Cohen’s ass."

As if an exhausting but nonetheless exhilarating morning of ping-pong wasn’t enough, at noontime Dave Jilk and I hiked Mt. Sanitas in Boulder. It was a beautiful day and intense hike. Dave doesn’t screw around — we charged right up, braving steep inclines and rocks and ice. We reached the summit in about 30 minutes which I’m told is an impressive feat. Thanks Dave for leading me on a fun climb!

The past few days the weather has been gorgeous in Colorado. On Wednesday it was so sunny I couldn’t resist lying outside in the grass within my condominium reading 1776, doing some conf calls, and, thanks to shirtless upperbody, increasing my vitamin D intake (improving my tan didn’t cross my mind, I would never engage in such a self-indulgent activity during the workweek).

Yesterday, sitting in the Mobius office, at around 2:30 PM I looked outside and said, "It’s too nice for me to be indoors." I sent a one line email to a friend and three hours later found myself in a small aircraft flying in the co-pilot seat from Jefferson County to Cheyenne, Wyoming!

Paul Berberian, a trained pilot, took me up in his plane and we cruised around for a couple hours. For about three harrowing minutes, I controlled the plane — which isn’t that hard, actually, but still nerve racking. We flew about 8,000 feet above ground at ~250 MPH. Paul did various maneuvers, including several sharp turns, a touch-and-go in Cheyenne, and an "approach" landing at Jefferson County airport. It was a beautiful day.

Prior to taking off, as we idled on the runway, Paul outlined what we would do in an emergency. If he were to become incapacitated, for example, I should, "Pull this, grab that, press this, and then pray that I live." Got it. Pilot regulations and safety standards are quite high. I felt safe on my excursion yesterday, notwithstanding reports I’ve read about the unusually high rate of small aircraft accidents.

Commercial air travel, on the other hand, is the safest mode of transport in the world, which means most "fear of flying" is irrational (but natural, given 9/11 and the fact that you aren’t in control of the situation).

Anyway, chalk up a new life experience: flying in a small aircraft! Thanks Paul!

The Generation Y project did about a 30 minute phone interview with me today recorded as a podcast. They ask about how I got started, my thoughts on technology and Gen Y, books, and other topics. You can listen in the embedded player below or you can download the MP3 from ClickCaster. Start at the 3 minute mark and at the 44 minute mark to skip the irrelevant front and backmatter.

Within four hours of landing in the Bay Area from Denver for a long weekend at home I found myself at a Silicon Valley party with 40 women and 2 men — Google co-founder Sergey Brin and me.

For some reason, ladies were more interested in Sergey. As if it’s any consolation, one respected Valley gal said, “Don’t worry, he’s richer, but you’re cuter.”

Crazy town this is….