Dawn in Ithaca
The sky has a strange cast to it this morning. It is still rising in the East, so the world is not too disoriented. But the low bands of clouds near the horizon have taken on a pinkish hue. The banding of pale blue and pink creates a beautiful and unusual sunrise. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning. What do the old sailor’s yarns say about a blue and pink striped sky?
I will choose to say that it bodes well for the day ahead. There it goes, that morning rush of serotonin I always seem to get. May it never cease to flush my system of all its doubting thoughts in the overnight. I am particularly happy this morning to be waking up in Ithaca. I taught a lecture last night about venture financing a world-changing technology. I love slaying dragons and windmills alike. I don’t care which it turns out to be on any given day because the quest is the goal and not vice versa. To wake up every morning ready to take on the world is a fine state of being for which I am quite proud.
I often wonder about the day, which may come one day, when I wake up to a feeling of gloom and doom. I think it is some ways off. If I’m lucky it will never arrive. Is there a limited amount of serotonin we are allotted in life? I hope not. I recall the weekend in Napa when, in 2008, I awoke to the news that my Bear Stearns stock, accumulated over four years as part of my excessive Wall Street compensation went from being worth eight figures to being almost worthless. I had enough serotonin to handle that. I never blinked. I cheated because money never makes me blink. Career issues never make me blink. Family issues might make me blink, but only if shockingly unexpected.
Money is just money. That sounds trite, but it is very meaningful. My personal observation is that people who treat money as everything are usually people who think they may never make it back in the future. I always assume I can and will make it back in the future. I suppose that is why older people take these issues more seriously since they may feel their productive money-making years are behind them. Since I’m 65 I think it’s safe to say that never occurs to me.
I have a pal whose first name is identical to his last name. I won’t use his name here, but let’s call him Sam Sam. Sam Sam is about 85 years old. He refuses to use email, but he at least will use a fax (I’ll bet it took him until 2000 to concede that one). Sam Sam is always calling me on some deal idea or another. Once in a while it seems worth talking about his idea because it pertains to a current project. Other times it is some pie-in-the-sky concept that he has cooked up and thinks is the cat’s pajamas (that is an appropriate 1920’s term that suits Sam Sam). Sam Sam is a nice old guy. He loves coming to my wife’s cabaret shows. I suspect he likes being invited as much as he likes coming. I like making Sam Sam feel good and hope that someday someone is thinking kindly of my hair-brained schemes as well. What I like most about Sam Sam is that he never gives up and is always in excess supply of enthusiasm. You have to love that.
This morning I am combining some of my favorite things. I am waking up in my house in Ithaca. Ithaca is that real, but fabled place in Greece that is home to Odysseus. It means so much more than just home. It means that place of peace that we all seek in life. It’s a great place to start your day. And then it’s a sunny, crisp and cool early spring day, with crocuses just peeking through the mulch. Those are special moments of rebirth. I was with my life partner and favorite person, my wife Kim. And on top of this all, I had a 230-mile road trip ahead of me, which meant that between MSNBC and my Audible book about the George Washington conspiracy, I would be thoroughly enjoying the morning while Kim most likely slept.
I was in a perfect state of mind to finish out the business of the prior day, which involved finding common ground between two warring factions (investors) over meaningless things (shares and money at the margin). I don’t like doing this sort of arbitration, but it seemed close enough to find a compromise and those are always fun when you strike them. About halfway through the ride we hit a snag and I was able to have more fun than usual. I was able to solve the problem by offering my own shares to fill the gap. This selflessness is always very rewarding to me because it feels so noble, it minimizes the importance of filthy lucre in the grand scheme and it feels like a solution. As usual, it gets rejected for the right reasons, since it serves to remind both sides that they are being petty and need to be more compromising. Both sides reject the use of my shares and then, voila! The solution and compromise emerged. That was a fine morning’s work.
When I arrived in NYC and went to the office, I was able to put the deal into an email and launch it to the counterparties before heading out to a lunch with a friend from my last engagement. At that lunch (at my favorite Italian restaurant) my friend told me he wanted my help on a new attraction he was working on. It’s an attraction with real pirate’s gold and involvers the greatest pirate treasure ever found.
What a day! A start in Ithaca, a road trip, a compromise found, and ending on pirate’s treasure. I cannot imagine a better day’s work. May your day tomorrow start as well and end with pirate’s treasure like mine did.