Razflections » Wall Street Journal

Make Memories

Raz — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 03:44:47 +0000

In the summer of ’86 there was a great Wall Street Journal (hereinafter WSJ) article written about a Frozen Custard Stand in Lafayette, Indiana.

I was 13 at the time.

What was I doing reading the WSJ? Well, Friday night WSJ review nights, of course. Some of you know that every week we’d have “article review” where me, my sisters, and my dad would sit around the dining room table (you all did this too, right?) and review our inbox reading for the week (you had one of these also, yeah?) and talk about what we learned.

No, I am not making this up.

The intended purpose was, I assume, about developing cognitive reasoning skills as well as practicing retention, and of course I wouldn’t forget the riveting family fun involved. Well, for real, it ACTUALLY was fun (we didn’t know better ) and it enabled us to spend time together. Well, the short of the story was that later in the summer of ’86 we all decided to take a road trip to Lafayette to hit the custard place that we all read about. We were on our way out West, if I recall, but in any event we opted for a two-hour detour just to get a taste of this stuff. We never went there again. I don’t even think we ever really talked about it again.

Fast forward 23-years…

So this week I’m on the road, starting in Dallas (my birthplace), the next day Knoxville, the next day Indy for the day (meeting w/ old friends and also a pretty cool networking meeting that’s fodder for another blog entry) and I’m leaving Indy in a way-too-small rental car making my way up to Merrillville, which isn’t all too far from Chicago.

As I’m driving I basically remember this article (yes, this is bizarre I know–but it’s just how my mind works) from ’86 in the WSJ and that I’ll be driving near Lafayette off I-65. An iPhone Safari search and 30 seconds later and I’ve got the address of the Original Frozen Custard stand in Lafayette.

So I go. And as I’m there a flood of memories return, from the WSJ review nights (I can still recall talking about the owners of the Custard Stand, and how they reinvented their former business from the 30′s to develop this world-renowned frozen custard because…well, who cares at this point why…) to the trip I took with my family to how good it was when I first tasted it when I was 13.

Prudence should’ve stopped me at the serving of Pumpkin Pie (they don’t allow samples or mixing at all–it’s like Soup Nazi from Seinfeld, kinda), but then I needed to try Mint Chip (not that great) and then some sundae of sorts (pretty good as well, but the Pumpkin was the best), yet I was so enveloped in the moment and all the memories of the past that I just had to have a few samples–and, no, I didn’t eat all of them. But even after sitting outside at this place, literally by myself with nobody else around, amidst a gorgeous afternoon with the crisp smell of Fall in the air, I didn’t want to leave. Because, to leave, meant I would also leave the nostalgia.

The lesson I was reminded of?

Make memories.

And, depending on what you’re doing, who knows if the memories will resurface 23 days, 23 months, or in my case, 23 years later.

Risky Hires: Wall Street Journal Circa 1997

Raz — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 06:32:42 +0000

I saved this article for 12 years, and who knows how much longer I’ll hang onto it. But I remember my dad giving this to me, or rather snail mailing it to me (I was probably just starting my job at Lilly). We all had inboxes growing up, from a very young age.

In fact, at birth we were all assigned a designation for inboxes. I was R3. It has to do with birth order. My Dad was R1. Mom R2. You get it? A little odd, even quirky…Perhaps. But fun. In a quirky way, of course. But it set us forth on a lifelong course of reading and study, in some ways.

Anyways, my Dad sent me (again, R3 for those who aren’t quite yet following along) this great article over a decade ago. I loved it, because it represented redemption.

And second chances.

Which represent stories that I love, because no matter who you are, what you’ve accomplished, or who you know the fact remains that we’ve all needed a second chance here or there. As you’ve heard me say before, it’s one of the amazing things that I love about the Direct Selling industry, but there are many other applications to this throughout life as well.

So, here it is: A story of second chances. From many years ago. From a Company that took a really unconventional approach, and won big. Not just in results, but in the redemption it provided to people who were without, for a period of time, any hope at all.

When Ruth Tinney started looking for a job last December, she didn’t have much of a résumé: The 30-year-old mother of two had no recent employment at all and had been on the welfare rolls for about three years.

Nonetheless, Microboard Processing Inc., an electronics assembler in Seymour, Conn., offered Ms. Tinney a two-week employment trial. Now she has a regular assembly-line job at MPI, and she recently got her first raise.

Close to 30 percent of MPI’s new hires could be considered high-risk employees, from former welfare recipients with little job experience to felons and former drug addicts, says Marilyn A. Burke, the company’s production manager. Chief Executive Craig T. Hoekenga says MPI makes sure that at least 10 percent of its new hires every year are in these categories.

Click here to read the full story.

Genius: The Modern View

Raz — Tue, 05 May 2009 04:43:08 +0000

Why do we love the “underdog” story? Susan Boyle. “Mine that Bird” (Derby this weekend). Slumdog Millionaire (brilliant fictional drama).

To some degree, I think it’s because it represents more of “us.” Where we think we are, and what we hope to someday do or be.

But the reality is that we’re less than an underdog than we give ourselves credit for. The following New York Times article is a good reminder that hard work, a commitment to excellence and focus, and patient determination count for a tremendous portion of our successful outcome and result.

And there really are a lot of examples of this. A few that come to my mind off the cuff are Eric Clapton, whose music I really like, who acknowledges that if you go into a few bars chances are you’ll find someone as good or better on the guitar than him. Or take the common bit of wisdom passed onto University President’s which says “Be nice to your A-students because they’ll come back and teach; be nice to your C-students, because they’ll make all the money that funds your endowment.” And just today fact my dad sent onto me a list of “NFL Busts”, stories of guys with great talent–superhuman talent–who never went anywhere in the NFL (which was especially interesting to me because one of the guys I played against in high school was featured on the list and the guy was a rock star).

So sometimes the “talent myth” is too often decided by perception or some false quantitative measurement. No question, you need some talent. But, beyond that, there are other factors that seem to matter more.

OP-ED COLUMNIST for the NEW YORK TIMES

Genius: The Modern View

By DAVID BROOKS

Published: April 30, 2009

Some people live in romantic ages. They tend to believe that genius is the product of a divine spark. They believe that there have been, throughout the ages, certain paragons of greatness — Dante, Mozart, Einstein — whose talents far exceeded normal comprehension, who had an other-worldly access to transcendent truth, and who are best approached with reverential awe.

We, of course, live in a scientific age, and modern research pierces hocus-pocus. In the view that is now dominant, even Mozart’s early abilities were not the product of some innate spiritual gift. His early compositions were nothing special. They were pastiches of other people’s work. Mozart was a good musician at an early age, but he would not stand out among today’s top child-performers.

What Mozart had, we now believe, was the same thing Tiger Woods had — the ability to focus for long periods of time and a father intent on improving his skills. Mozart played a lot of piano at a very young age, so he got his 10,000 hours of practice in early and then he built from there.

The latest research suggests a more prosaic, democratic, even puritanical view of the world. The key factor separating geniuses from the merely accomplished is not a divine spark. It’s not I.Q., a generally bad predictor of success, even in realms like chess. Instead, it’s deliberate practice. Top performers spend more hours (many more hours) rigorously practicing their craft.

The recent research has been conducted by people like K. Anders Ericsson, the late Benjamin Bloom and others. It’s been summarized in two enjoyable new books: “The Talent Code” by Daniel Coyle; and “Talent Is Overrated” by Geoff Colvin.

If you wanted to picture how a typical genius might develop, you’d take a girl who possessed a slightly above average verbal ability. It wouldn’t have to be a big talent, just enough so that she might gain some sense of distinction. Then you would want her to meet, say, a novelist, who coincidentally shared some similar biographical traits. Maybe the writer was from the same town, had the same ethnic background, or, shared the same birthday — anything to create a sense of affinity.

This contact would give the girl a vision of her future self. It would, Coyle emphasizes, give her a glimpse of an enchanted circle she might someday join. It would also help if one of her parents died when she was 12, infusing her with a profound sense of insecurity and fueling a desperate need for success.

Armed with this ambition, she would read novels and literary biographies without end. This would give her a core knowledge of her field. She’d be able to chunk Victorian novelists into one group, Magical Realists in another group and Renaissance poets into another. This ability to place information into patterns, or chunks, vastly improves memory skills. She’d be able to see new writing in deeper ways and quickly perceive its inner workings.

Then she would practice writing. Her practice would be slow, painstaking and error-focused. According to Colvin, Ben Franklin would take essays from The Spectator magazine and translate them into verse. Then he’d translate his verse back into prose and examine, sentence by sentence, where his essay was inferior to The Spectator’s original.

Coyle describes a tennis academy in Russia where they enact rallies without a ball. The aim is to focus meticulously on technique. (Try to slow down your golf swing so it takes 90 seconds to finish. See how many errors you detect.)

By practicing in this way, performers delay the automatizing process. The mind wants to turn deliberate, newly learned skills into unconscious, automatically performed skills. But the mind is sloppy and will settle for good enough. By practicing slowly, by breaking skills down into tiny parts and repeating, the strenuous student forces the brain to internalize a better pattern of performance.

Then our young writer would find a mentor who would provide a constant stream of feedback, viewing her performance from the outside, correcting the smallest errors, pushing her to take on tougher challenges. By now she is redoing problems — how do I get characters into a room — dozens and dozens of times. She is ingraining habits of thought she can call upon in order to understand or solve future problems.

The primary trait she possesses is not some mysterious genius. It’s the ability to develop a deliberate, strenuous and boring practice routine.

Coyle and Colvin describe dozens of experiments fleshing out this process. This research takes some of the magic out of great achievement. But it underlines a fact that is often neglected. Public discussion is smitten by genetics and what we’re “hard-wired” to do. And it’s true that genes place a leash on our capacities. But the brain is also phenomenally plastic. We construct ourselves through behavior. As Coyle observes, it’s not who you are, it’s what you do.

More Articles in Opinion »A version of this article appeared in print on May 1, 2009, on page A23 of the New York edition.

And to Paul Potts, too

Raz — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 21:40:40 +0000

So with all the fanfare with Susan Boyle and her amazing performance on “Britain’s Got Talent”, and my many many views of her performance in the last few days (to the point that my wife is teasing me), I’ve become captured with a few other great stories ofnormal people doing exceptional things that have been featured on a few reality shows. I don’t watch much TV, but some of these highlights on YouTube are just too fantastic not to share.

The ones below I saw about a year back, a similar story to Susan’s. I think there’s a reason that we’re all so intrigued by these exceptional shorts–in total these videos have been viewed on YouTube tens of millions of times, there’s a buzz about it.

Why are these so popular?

For me, I’m drawn by seeing someone’s inspiration. Sheer determination. And ultimate. success. Seeing someone’s “Renewal.” It’s the archetypical underdog story of a longshot, someone left behind or forgotten and dismissed or simply underestimated, that has “it” deep within them, sticks with it, and wins big.

I’d love to hear other opinions on what has made these clips of Paul and Susan SUCH a sensation–comment away!

So, here it is…Paul Potts, from over a year ago on Britain’s Got Talent. The first video is his audition. The second video is a deeper look at the Paul Potts story.

And once again, take a look at the crowd–the smirks and laughter–before his performance, and how he absolutely transforms the audience during the event.

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And here’s the other clip that gives a bit more of the story after it unfolded.

Thank You, Susan Boyle

Raz — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 04:19:32 +0000

Sometimes there are certain moments that words don’t describe well.

Which is why I won’t try to share much about today’s posting and I’ll let this seven minute video taken from “Britain’s Got Talent” give you chills from seeing someone’s dream realized. I wish I could embed the video itself, but that feature has been disabled by YouTube for this particular video–so you’ll have to go to the link at the bottom of this posting.

When watching this, some of you will get chills.

Some will laugh, or smile.

And others will cry.

All of you will be moved.

The experience of watching this is among the most powerful I’ve felt in months. Look at the change in the audience, from the beginning, where they were laughing and mocking this lovely woman who simply has a dream–to being an audience that’s simply…inspired.

So many lessons in this seven minutes. About perceptions. Judgment. Perseverance. Potential. And dreams.

I’ve watched her performance four times in a row, and I can’t stop the overpowering sense of emotions and insight I get from watching what is probably seven of the most magical moments on television that have happened in a long while.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Here’s the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY&NR=1

And, by the way, if you’re up for a little extra sentiment and contemplation, read the lyrics to the song she sang from Les Miserable “I Dreamed a Dream” below.

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came

And still I dream he’ll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I’m living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

Dogged Pursuit

Raz — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 03:38:10 +0000

Can we agree on a few simple premises?

1. There’s a huge need for secondary or replacement primary income right now? More than ever in the past three decades, perhaps longer? Everybody is faced with the prospect of layoffs, 401k matches missing, salary reductions, and on. Not to say that everyone is going through it–but everybody to some degree is faced with the prospect. Heck, I just read that even Sesame Street is laying off 20% of it’s workforce–including some of the letters of the alphabet, such as Q, K, Z, K, and the semicolon! (the latter is pulled from a funny piece of online satire, but the former is apparently true and not so funny).

2. That there’s nothing wrong with pushing a hotdog cart (though I wouldn’t recommend eating one everyday). People do what they need to do. No judgment here.

3. That an opportunity in Univera makes vastly more sense in terms of a) lower initial investment, b) time factor of money, c) income potential, d) capitalizing on a growing marketplace, e) feeling better physically, and f) intersecting what you do with what you love–or in other words, finding purpose in work?

Check this recent article from the Wall Street Journal, and tell me it doesn’t motivate you to go and find that extra person to give them a shot at what they might never have known but for your contributions and enthusiasm…The best advice probably comes at the very end of the story, where Mr. Mottola says “I’m creating my own stimulus plan…I’m not waiting for the President.”

Dogged Pursuit: Professionals Find New Livelihood Selling Frankfurters

BANDERA, Texas — In hard times, some small-town Americans are turning to a new livelihood with relish.

Among them are Andrea and Ben Guajardo. They began selling hot dogs from a pushcart on Main Street in November.

Ms. Guajardo is a grant administrator for a health-care system. Her husband, Ben, is a pipeline operator. Theirs is the first hot-dog stand in Bandera, pop. 957, that anybody here can remember.

Click here to read the full story.

The Phoenix VLOG

Raz — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 18:05:33 +0000

This is one of my first-ever predominantly video-blogs (vlogs), but it’ll tell the better story comprised of a few different clips from a great evening. Thanks to all the Phoenix leadership, including Barry and Connie Lucas, Kenny and Esmerelda Rossi, Ron Faunce, Dr. Jack Burns, and many many others who participated and helped. Thanks to all the first-timers who showed up to check out Univera, the products and the business.

In short, this was my favorite trip to Phoenix so far–I loved the time at the event, meeting all the new people (probably 70% guests), and the great socialization with the leaders post event at Los Alevios! So, enough writing–onto the VLOG…

Rocky Mountain High

Raz — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 14:59:22 +0000

Growing up we did the annual trip our West, generally Colorado. We’d start in Columbus, Ohio, and 24-hours later we’d arrive into the Denver area. Lots of memories evolve from those trips, including a few funny prospective blog stories, but one of the things I remember most about the journey was the dialogue and the music. I’d spend a lot of time talking to my dad on the way, and we always had this set structure of music that included Karen Carpenter, Paul Williams (such a fantastic songwriter), and, of course, John Denver. So this song will be forever my placeholder for “here.”

Once you get to this great state you start to understand the “Rocky Mountain High” that Denver wrote about years ago. I always love coming here, flying into what’s almost always sunshine and fresh air. This weekend we had lots of fresh air, and a bit of sunshine (ironically, literally as I write, it’s 70 and sunny back in Oly and 26 and overcast and snowing here in Denver–ha!).

From Austin, despite what many forecasters were predicting as a wild weekend, the flight was on time and bump-free and Stephen made it on time to his Doc’s event, which I know was sprinkled with good humor as well as some Cheesesteak stories–remember, Stephen, I get to speak last at all of these events.

During the event, on Saturday afternoon, it was really well run. Eddy Wittry was the guy behind the scenes facilitating everything, and he did a great job, but so many other leaders were involved in the event and particularly presentation, including Anjila Stimack, Dave Walther, Chris Pilgrim, Harris Williams, and John Rogers among others.

And lots of help from many people, including Judy Gillum, Gerry and Michelle Bergeson (great set up guys), and I could go on and on and on with all the people that contributed–thanks to everybody.

There’s lots of great video footage from this trip as well as Austin (post-Tour we’ll do a highlights video) but the following clip is among my most favorite.

Remember Regan, this was just one guy’s opinion. I’m sure the next person you asked would have said…me.

After a great event, we took the local leaders out to dinner (Dr. Greene and Judy, enjoyed our time together at dinner) and had a great time–thanks, guys, for the gift of some local Colorado wine that looks great.

Then, the finale…Boogie Machine at Cool Rivers. This is Jerry and Michelle’s band. www.boogiemachine.com

These guys really rocked the house, we met a bunch of other associates out at the event and danced the night away listening to 70′s music. The evening was among the most fun we’ve had on the Road Tour, and both the people as well as the music were responsible for that.

Which is a great plug for Convention ’09. These same people, and MANY MANY more will be at our event June 26-29, and this SAME BAND will be opening for us on Thursday night–the start of our 10-year celebration. So in addition to great speakers (Bill Lee, Paul Zane Pilzer, Suzanne Peterson, Neil Offen, and others), training and business growth (average Gold who attended Conventions in the past earned DOUBLE the commissions that following year of those at the same rank who did not go), this event promises to be a lot of fun.

Perhaps, even more than the Denver group was this weekend.

Austenver

Raz — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 18:51:08 +0000

This entry started as what would be a combination of two events, Austin and Denver. Thus the name, Austenver. Then, I started looking at all the great pictures and people from Austin, and I just couldn’t bring myself to pull the two events together.

As I type we’re en route to Denver, placing bets of whether we’ll land or not. Already, the Frontier flight first thing this AM was cancelled to Denver, and many United flights leaving Denver were cancelled, yet as I write we’re flying in gorgeously sunny skies—hopefully beating this last winter storm that’s apparently on its way (side note: when I landed this was published, so obviously we have made it to Denver and we will see you this afternoon).

So the three of us are doing our thing in flight, Stephen pounding away on his keyboard (though not quite as loudly as me), Regan sits ahead of us CEO style in first class (bumped, not a purchased ticket) watching 30 Rock, and I’m bloggin’ away.

Arriving into Austin was welcome warmth, spectacular sun and temperature. It’s the best weather so far. And, while weather is really an exceptionally boring and mindless topic, when you live in 40-50 degrees and rainy for much of the year (though I actually love it) the topic of sunny skies and arid warmth becomes just a tad more interesting.

Austin is such a hoppin’ city, and for a Friday night our turnout was fantastic—probably close to 200. Significantly more people than we had last time in Austin, and the energy and excitement was a lot better as well. Not that last time our Austin trip wasn’t great, it was good. But this was really exceptional with the quality of people and just the…Energy.

I’d rather have energy, excitement, and conviction any day of the week over someone with just talent and talk that lacks passion. In Austin we had people that are both talented and excited. The best of both.

When I reference specific people that I meet on the Road Tour I always hesitate a bit, because there’s always more people that I can’t blog about that I met who are equally interesting. But I try to tie in one story or experience.

At this event I met a guy with a great story, his name is Mario (his brother Tommy attended the event as well), and is signed up under Colleen who was also attending. Mario’s story is a great one, he grew up in the Lyford, Texas area. Which, many of you know, is home to Hilltop Gardens—the Historical Home of Aloe. There’s more to this great story, it’s just evolving and someday I’ll write more about it, but the short of it that Mario has gone on to become exceptionally successful, and as I understand it is an inventor (even featured in magazines like Popular Mechanics) and has also done some feature work in TV. The amazing thing is not that he’s totally bought into Univera—the products and the business. It’s that he has a stronger tie to Hilltop Gardens than most anybody I know.

See, when Mario was growing up, his parents worked in agriculture and in the fields. And, some of the work they did was planting and harvesting aloe.

But the magic is, they didn’t just work any farms. One of the farms his parents worked in the fields was the Hilltop Gardens farm itself, before Bill had actually purchased it (owned by a different family, with a different name—but the oldest aloe vera farm in the U.S.).

So the evolution of this story is an amazing one, and among many other stories of success that will grow over the years this will also be another interesting one.

Nashville (creative heading, huh)

Raz — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 18:25:44 +0000

My creativity brain cells are, I believe, starting to diminish. But the excitement on the road for Univera isn’t!

Sometimes when I write these entries about the Road Tour I feel like it might read as a bit of over-enthusiasm for these events, but really, if they weren’t good events I either wouldn’t write about them or I’d pick some obscure topic to focus on semi-related to the event.

So Nashville was lots ‘o energy. And I am trying to stay away talking about any of the Corporate presentations, because it’s really not the point of the Road Tour and it’s boring to read about in a blog–instead, the point is to try to get this message and the opportunity–product, business, or both–in front of people who need it the most.

However, Stephen was fantastic at this event. It was probably the best that I have heard him, he pulled out all stops.

Energy in the room was fantastic, we had people there from Indianapolis, Knoxville, Georgia–even someone from California was there. And about 70% were first time attendees, another really amazing percentage.

We spent a lot of time socializing and getting to know those in the area. It really was an exceptional event, we will be back.