Shameless plug: this blog is available for Kindle. In fact, it has been available for Kindle since before your grandmother was born. I’m rarely an early adopter of anything, but I was pretty into the Kindle when it first came out and I made sure to get the maximum use out of it.
Now that the Kindle has come down in price, and Amazon’s kindle books outsell their hardbacks, I’ve been thinking again about the future of the device. Really, the thing I love least about it is the Digital Rights Management. Especially because Microsoft, Apple, and the notorious RIAA have all learned the DRM lesson before. Amazon’s is tamer than most in that it is mostly invisible, but let me pitch you an idea:
Amazon should become a publishing house.
I know this idea is going to get me into trouble with my writer friends, who will all protest something along the lines of “We will all starve and DIE! Do you want that, Ryan? Is that what you’re suggesting?” except they will do it with graceful prose. But here’s the thing: if Amazon keeps its DRM and begins publishing, two things will happen. One, they will sideline all the publishers currently generating content for Kindle. Two, they will concentrate on publishing mass-market cash cows (read: crap). This combination will decrease available variety, thereby devaluing the Kindle device.
Here’s what should happen instead: Amazon removes DRM from the Kindle and becomes a publishing house. Art-housey publishers everywhere will jump at the opportunity to sell art-housey literature to a whole new audience. Art-housey consumers will start buying Kindles because of all the suddenly-available art-housey content. Writers are happy because they are selling more books. Amazon is happy because they are selling more Kindles, plus they are cutting out Stieg Larsson’s pesky publisher Knopf out of the equation. Consumers are happy because they can do more with their Kindle. What’s not to love?
Until about two weeks ago, I had always thought “consulting” just meant “sitting in the expensive seats at sporting events.”
At my internship, I help more people get stock in their company. At it’s most basic level, the stock of a corporation is just a piece of paper that represents money invested into a business. Stock is important, because not all corporations can find creditors willing to loan the money necessary for their business to grow.
In most corporations, the CEO and a few other higher-ups own the majority or even the entirety of the stock of the company. When you hear things like “Bill gates is worth $50 billion,” it doesn’t mean that he actually has $50 billion in the bank. It means that when he started Microsoft, he gave himself and his homie Paul some stock. He then spent maybe $1000 of his own money on an IBM mainframe or whatever, and used that mainframe to create a software company that brings in $15 billion in revenue every quarter. The original $1000 gave the original value to the stock, but now that same stock is worth more because Microsoft is worth more.
But there’s another way this whole thing can work. Anyone who has been to Florida knows about Publix supermarkets. At Publix, the majority of employees own stock in the company. Their wages are otherwise comparable to those in similar companies nationwide. Publix makes a lot of money. Their stock is valuable. The stock that the employees own is stored in a trust and is intended to augment retirement savings. There are lots of tax benefits to this setup, both for Publix and the employees (as there should be). Some companies talk about trying to “align employee interests with shareholder interests” – Publix doesn’t even need to try, because the employees are the shareholders.
At my internship, I help companies switch from the CEO-ownership model to the employee-ownership model. I do this by helping model the cost benefit to CEOs, employees, and companies as a whole. I use a really big ugly Excel spreadsheet. The institute I work for is a nonprofit, because there is a significant social benefit to public ownership. In essence, the work I’m doing this summer is helping average people retire more comfortably. Apparently when you do this kind of work full-time, it’s called “consulting.” Who knew?
I searched on Match.com for women age 22-33 within 20 miles of San Diego. There were 18 results listed on the first page. I clicked on every profile from that first page. Listed below is a single quote from each of those profiles.
“I’m looking for someone who makes me laugh!!”
“I’m pretty outgoing and am instantly drawn to other energetic, funny people…if you make me laugh, I like you ”
“I’m all about the little things in life, and am looking for someone who can make me smile every day.”
“A great sense of humor and someone laid back are some of the qualities that I do look for.” [sic]
“I am looking for someone that loves the Lord and has a sense of humor”
“I’d love to find a guy who is genuine, funny, easygoing, adventurous, and just wants to enjoy life.”
“My ideal match would be someone that can keep up with me and make me laugh.”
“I want him to be honest, loyal, optimistic person, who will have a good sense of humor.” [sic]
“I’m looking for a guy who’s funny, friendly, confident, professional and cute!”
“If God hit you with the ugly stick, it’s not that big of a deal, but please, please make sure to compensate for your lack of aesthetic beauty, with a little bit of humor, charisma and kindness.” [ed: I actually kind of like this sentence]
“It is important for me to be with someone who has common sense and is down to earth with a good sense of humar.” [sic]
“I would like him to be kind, reliable, with sense of humor and experienced” [sic]
“I am looking for someone with a good sense of humor who is confident and likes to have fun!”
“I am looking for someone who can make me laugh and who is open minded.”
“Love to meet someone who makes me laugh, honest, someone respectful, considerate, generous, someone who likes music and appreciates the arts.”
“I suppose my ‘Ideal match’ would always know how to make me laugh”
“A few other tidbits….I’m a huge goofball, love to laugh, love food (sushi and thai are probably top 2).”
Nick Drake is one of those songwriters whose work I love but generally don’t want to touch. The recordings are so sparse, so eerily lo-fi, so fraught with intensity that replicating any of it always feels like an exercise in futility. Still, the songs are out there for the taking, and they are nearly all great.
“Charla” had a little bit of a side bet going with her friend, who heard the last song I posted and thought I would sound like Nick Drake if I chose to play Nick Drake. I’m not sure that’s entirely the case, but I’ve at least tried to stay true to the understated moodiness of the original in this cover of “One Of These Things First.” I’ve also brightened up the tuning just a hair, since I chose to do away with the piano for this solo arrangement.
I haven’t posted in awhile, and that’s in large part due to the fact that I haven’t spent much time around my computer in awhile. After my Lab to Market final presentation, I took off for Highway One. “Charla” and I took the coastal route all the way to the Northwestern corner of the continental U.S., camping for much of the trip. Now that I’m back, I am realizing how reinvigorating a week in nature can be. The picture here should give you some insight into our trip: it was taken directly from our campground on Quinault Lake in Olympic National Forest, possibly the most beautiful place we stayed (the other contender being Humboldt State Park). This was our view as we drank hot chocolate out of plastic camping bowls.
Now that I’m back, I’m thrilled to be able to share my internship plan for the summer: I’ll be working at the Beyster Institute, an organization connected to the Rady School which studies the effects of employee ownership as a business model. My work will involve financial modeling and forecasting. It’s a great place to me to build on my work and classroom experience – I really couldn’t have asked for a much better fit. I’ll start working this week.
Today, I’d like to tell you about an iPhone app which has consumed entirely too much of my life over the past two days. The app is called “Angry Birds.” It is a nifty little physics game, and it is incredibly addictive. Here’s the storyline: You are a flock of birds. Little green pigs stole eggs from your nest. You are ANGRY!!! I will now review this game by category on a 10-point scale.
Gameplay: 10/10. The game is very intuitive: you launch birds out of a slingshot by “pulling” back the slingshot with your finger. Birds fly through the air and demolish the structures which house the pigs. There are different kinds of birds with unique abilities, like the bird that splits in midair or the bomb-bird. Some levels require multiple special-ability birds. The game is particularly addicting because it is neither too easy nor too hard – the levels are very well-planned, requiring a nice balance of thought and accuracy.
Destruction: 10/10. The birds are super-angry. Really, they’re pissed. My favorite levels are the ones with dynamite.
Storyline: 9/10. Simple but gets the job done. The game is developed by a Finnish company, and one thing I found particularly hilarious is that some of the pig structures on the higher levels have little Swedish flags sticking out of them. Subtle but effective patriotic humor.
Price: 9/10. It’s not free. But it is 99¢, putting it in the same category as avocados. That category is “amazing things you can purchase for under one dollar.”
I was in the computer lab today killing pigs, and in no time several of my colleagues had inquired about and tried the game. My excuse was that “Angry Birds” is the #1 paid app on iTunes, and it made sense from a business perspective to stay on top of current technology trends. But mostly I was just wanted to see if I could send my kamikaze bird through three layers of wood.
Did you know that not all guitar strings are the same? There are different weights – heavier strings initiate more volume but also put more tension on the most resonant surface of the guitar. There are different metals and alloys, consisting of nickel, copper, and sometimes even phosphorus. Some strings are coated with a fine layer of a mystery substance that makes the strings squeak less and last longer (I, for one, am a coated string devotee).
Here’s something I didn’t realize about guitar strings until today: they are defective more often than you think. I’ve been trying to learn the song “Golden” by My Morning Jacket, a song that demands a lot from the b string. I was using my guitar Buttercup, built by the Santa Cruz Guitar Company, and it was giving me fits because the b string was out of tune with itself: as I would move up the neck, the notes would get sharper. (For the guitar geeks out there, the 12th-fret b was nearly 50 cents sharp of the 12th-fret harmonic.) Normally, this is a problem with a part called the “saddle” – it’s the little strip below the soundhole upon which the strings rest. Given a straight saddle, the b string will always be out of tune, so nearly all saddles are built “compensated,” and sometimes the compensation is not done quite right. Still, I was a little surprised that this problem would crop up so suddenly, and on a well-made guitar.
I took Buttercup up to Carlsbad today to visit the Buffalo Brothers’ repair shop. I demonstrated the problem for “James,” the repair guy with the most guitar-player-looking soul patch I’ve ever seen, who listened to my guitar and then stated convincingly:
Oh man, that’s way out there! No man, that’s a Santa Cruz, the saddle’s good stuff, they compensate it at the factory. I bet it’s just your string, man, it happens a lot. They’ll sell you a single string up front, just try fixing it right here man, cause if that doesn’t work we got problems. Santa Cruz is good stuff!
He was right, and my self-repair cost me a grand total of $1.09. Good stuff.
Sometimes I think to myself, “Ryan, your blog is truly a shining beacon in a dark internet sea of dead Xangas. It is truly inspirational how you manage to deftly relate every tangential aspect of your life back to your business school theme, even when the connection is tenuous.” But just when I start getting smug, I find out about a blog like “Tacos De Pescado,” to which my schoolmate Chris is a contributor. I will explain why this blog is so great by the tried and true business school default method of using bullet points:
Chris eats fish tacos all over San Diego, then tells you which are the best.
It is a blog. About fish tacos.
Fish tacos are awesome. So awesome that the opportunity to eat fish tacos any time I want factored into my decision to apply to the Rady School of Management.
So there you have it. You will henceforth be able to find “Tacos De Pescado” among my outbound links to the right.
As an MBA student, I see presentations almost daily. It’s rare that I see a presentation that’s so outstanding that I feel the need to tell others about it simply on the basis of its effectiveness in communicating information. I saw one on Wednesday evening.
The entrepreneur challenge is a series of speakers culminating quarterly in a quick-pitch competition, where locals bring up their ideas for new businesses and get feedback. The speaker list on Wednesday included a guy named Ken Rollins, a lawyer at Cooley LLP in San Diego. Ken’s presentation was on the difference between sole proprietorships, partnerships, LLCs, S-corporations and C-corporations. Like all the speakers, he was given 10 minutes to cover his topic. Note that there are 5 types of corporations here, leaving 2 minutes to cover each. Ken worked effectively with this time constraint, making points clearly but never repeating them. There was no reliance on Powerpoint, and his slides didn’t really need to be there (in fact, I wish they hadn’t been – all he really needed was a list of the 5 types of corporations he was going to talk about). The presentation was impeccably organized: for each corporation type, Ken discussed the structure, the associated costs, the advantages, and the disadvantages as compared to one of the other types. Each corporation type was thus handled. The presentation assumed just the right of audience knowledge – I was familiar with all these terms, but I have never really been given a framework for comparison.
So here is a public thank you, Ken Rollins from Cooley, for not feeling the need to use Latin words in your presentation just to prove you’re a lawyer.
This week, in our Lab to Market intro course, we were reading about creating new market space (as contrasted with capturing a share of an existing market). Buried in one of our articles was a sidebar about Quicken software. The sidebar contained what I immediately identified as the worst graphs in the entire world, reproduced above for your enjoyment. When I showed them to my roommate “Michael,” a Ph.D. candidate in the math department here, he just gripped his head and protested, “Why are they linear?” Michael was not the only one to find fault with the graphs. In class, “Erin” raised her hand and observed that for some x-axis attributes, “high” is good, and for others, “low” is preferable. She went on to point out, “If you have a bunch of data points that are best described through words, you don’t need to put them in a graph. That’s what tables are for.”