Done and Done-er

There was an article on cnn.com about an American kid who was arrested in Egypt. This kid used Twitter, which has a mobile blogging service, to send the word "arrested" to his blog. Within hours he had all of his buddies on the case contacting everyone and their mother in order to get him out of Egyptian jail. It worked. This got me thinking, if I had to send one word to my blog in order to spread the word about something important what would it be. I thought about it, and I'm pretty sure I'd blog "Mallomars" in hopes that my 15 readers (yeah we're at 15 now) would send me some boxes of Nabisco's heavenly cookies. I'm not sure I'll ever be in a position where I'd need to send the word "arrested" to my blog. Sending "mallomars"...way more likely.

Twitter this.

The first year of business school is officially in the books. I was out in San Fran for a few days last week presenting our final recommendations to the client. I definitely learned a lot about startups in the last 6-7 weeks, and I guess a lot about business in general. One observation, and it relates more to just the business world, is that sometimes the best move is to step outside what you know and take a chance on something different. As it related to our project, we were dealing with a very bright guy who had such tunnelvision as to how he wanted to see his company move forward that he just wasn't willing to consider alternatives that made sense. Bottom line, it's not my money, so he can do whatever the hell he wants, but we all did our best at shedding some light on the thing.

This blog will officially be going on academic hiatus starting right now. And speaking of end of the school year, I'm going to try to set a record for how many times I can watch Dazed and Confused this summer. All right all right all right. Today was graduation for the entire school here at Michigan. I guess for me and my business school friends, Matthew McConaughey's character Wooderson sums it up best when he says "That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age." Substitute "college girls" for "high school girls", and isn't that what the end of this school year is all about?

"Do you have the Spring off? It would be a whole lot cooler if you did."

Last summer was the "Summer of Finger" as I did a whole lot of nothing from June 1 until I got to campus. While I don't have as much time this summer, I'll just say that between now and my first day of work, June 9th, it will be the "Spring of Finger", filled with hanging out, travel, BBQs, pink pants, and of course, blogging. Who's coming with me?

"Zoom Zoom"

On Friday night a bunch of MBAs went to a country western bar for b-school-sponsored happy hour. There was a dancefloor, a live band, and some serious line dancing. It's funny that we all thought it was so "middle America" when really we were just about 30 mins outside of Detroit. Regardless of the metropolitan location, a lot of my classmates dressed up in western gear. People were wearing boots and cowboy-esque shirts. We were trying our best to play the part, but like I said, this is Detroit, and it isn't Kentucky. The point being, in a Detroit country/western bar they don't wear cowboy gear. They wear cut off t-shirts that say "Daytona Bike Week 2006".


I don't know much about the Detroit wannabe cowboy scene by any means, but does any woman at any type of bar want to see a guy's armpit hair? Maybe the guy's sleeves fell off on his bike ride over to the bar, I don't know. It didn't seem like the local women were the most discriminating of all time, but still. Ain't nothing sexy about armpits.

There was some serious line dancing going on that night. As fancy as it all looked it really all seemed to be a variation of the electric slide and as we all know, a good portion of our parents can do the electric slide, so how hard could it really be? All in all I was more impressed by the dollar beers and shot girls than by anything else. That said, I took the first bus back to campus.

The next day was Passover and in preparing to not eat bread I went to Kroger to buy some matzah. After walking through the aisles and not finding anything I finally went up to a stock clerk and asked where the matzah was located. This guy, this kid, couldn't have been more than 20, and he looks at me and starts scratching his chin. He says, "Hmm. Mazda. Mazda." I say, "yes, matzah". He says, "Right, mazda..." still scratching his chin. I know how important the auto industry is to the greater Detroit area, but this was a little ridiculous. It took serious willpower not to say, "yeah, I saw a blue Mazda over in aisle 4, but I'm really looking for a red one, do you know where I can find it?"

Definitely best with butter and jam

Eventually I had to be more specific, mentioning "Jew" and "kosher" and "horns" and he finally pointed me to the "International Foods" section. There were about 6 boxes of Streits located on the bottom shelf, under the Kikkoman soy sauce and instant pad thai. The Food Emporium on 63rd and 3rd this was not. My seder was fine although the food left much to be desired and worst of all, I had no leftovers to take home. The good news is that next time I'm looking to buy a car I can look for a Kroger coupon in the Sunday paper.

Why is this Night Different from All Other Nights?

As I get ready to drop the hammer on a plate full of brisket and some haroset for Passover this coming Saturday, perhaps the above question was never more appropriate than last Saturday. As mentioned, this past weekend was Admit Weekend, which means that every night there's something great going on. From the free meals, to the free drink, I was beginning to wonder if this was more for current students than admitted students. "Who am I to argue" said the boy eating a free filet mignon at Chophouse and waxing poetic to a bunch of wide-eyed admits. I hosted not one, but two admits. One was from Chicago, was living with his girlfriend in Chicago, and had also gotten into Kellogg. He's not coming here. The other one had already decided on Michigan.

The festivities culminated with a MBA happy hour on Saturday evening at Skeeps. Happy Hour was from 7-9, and since we usually go to Skeeps on Saturday night anyway a bunch of us figured we'd just stay there all night. As most of the admits and MBA trickled out as it approached 9p, we began questioning whether sticking around until 11 was a good idea. Our answer came at about 10:15. Apparently last Saturday was Kappa Kappa Gamma Lingerie Night, and at around 10:15 a dozen or so girls came in wearing basically nothing.

Hooray! Tushies for everyone!
(note: the girls don't look anything like this)

The admits were floored, and I guess we were all pretty surprised as well. I mean we've seen some pretty outrageous things at Skeeps so maybe we were a little jaded. The remaining admits asked "is it like this every Saturday?", and with the Stephen M. Ross School of Business' best interest in mind, I said, "Yes. Every Saturday". Blatant lie, but I wondered, why does this night have to be different from all other nights? Why can't every night be like this? In some ways this past year has been like that every night, and I don't mean specifically a lingerie party. This isn't Arizona State or something. I mean that this past year has been so unlike anything I've ever done before. I guess I'm getting nostalgic because I'm officially done at about 5p next Wednesday, not that I'm counting the hours or anything. Looking back, the amount of work and play that has happened since September absolutely blows my mind. Officially I can say I've never had a busier 8 months in my entire life.

The next couple days are basically going to suck, as all the final preparation needs to be completed before I go back out to San Fran next Tuesday for our final presentation. No complaints here though. It's tough to get upset when it finally hit 70 degrees in Ann Arbor for the first time since the Fall. The best part of the Spring in Ann Arbor is that as soon as it gets decently warm...50s...people just start throwing footballs all over the street. The air smells like skunked beer and charcoal, and even the bums are out. I saw a guy drinking a 40 on a tree stump outside my building and soaking in the sun. That's the beautiful thing about the sunshine...it doesn't discriminate. So it's only a few more days of grinding before my days are filled with footballs and bbqs and some sweet sweet natural Vitamin D. Lastly, note to self, never have daughters.

I Mailed This Blog In

Just a quick travel anecdote to start...Coming back from St Croix I had three flights. St Croix to San Juan, San Juan to Miami, and Miami to Detroit. The first leg of the trip went fine, and then when I arrived in San Juan (the worst airport in the world) I learned that my San Juan to Miami flight would be two hours late thus forcing me to miss my connection to Detroit. I don't do well when stuff like this happens. When the American Airlines rep told me that I'd have to stay the night in Miami I was none too thrilled. I asked her to check every possibility so I could get to Detroit and sleep in my own bed that night. She said there was nothing. Then, somehow, she got me a connection through US Air to Charlotte and then a first class seat from Charlotte to Detroit. I was so appreciative and thankful I almost forgot how pissed off at American Airlines I was not 10 seconds earlier. The mood swing was uncanny, almost PMS-like, or so I imagine. So I slept in my bed that night and now it's back to the old routine. There's nothing particularly redeeming about the airline industry. They're always late. I interviewed with United Airlines in January for some stupid reason, and I knew people who got second round interviews and then offers before I even heard that I didn't get a second round interview. If that's not the industry in a nutshell then spank my ass and call me Sally.

The trip as a whole was great and was relaxing, not that I really needed to relax from anything I'm doing at school. It's always nice to be on the beach with friends. I don't have pics yet, but when I do I'll share some. Back in the day I used to be able to eat a ton of food and never get full. My reputation preceded me at many family events when family members would always give me the last whatever, or give me seconds, or thirds because I could handle it. The first time I realized I wasn't a bottomless pit was after having brunch with my Dad. It was one of those days where you go to the breakfast buffet and you say to yourself, "they are definitely going to lose money on me today" and then you go nuts. Well, that day the breakfast buffet won, as I literally could not stand up straight and walk to the car. St. Croix for whatever reason brings the glutton out in me, and virtually every night after big meals and drinks I wanted to be taken out back behind the barn and put out of my misery. It kind of makes me have a greater appreciation for competitive eating, which apparently has been adapted into a video game for the Wii. Anyway, I guess I'm back to eating like I usually do, and not like a angry bear.

Starting tomorrow the business school has their sell weekend when admits come and check out Michigan and we all pretend like the crappy weather is just here for the weekend and it gets gorgeous in the Spring. Last year it snowed. It's going to be fun to see these admits back in college mode. Obviously I'm ridiculously biased, but I can't imagine coming here to visit and not wanting to go here, unless of course you have a "weather requirement". It's going to be a big weekend and I need my sleep so I'm going to pass out. I'm pretty sure I'll have something pithy to say when the weekend is all over.

80/20 Rule

This is an in-transit blog. Part was written in Detroit, part in Miami, and when I finally post this thing it will be from St. Croix. In a number of my classes my professors have invoked this alleged 80/20 rule. I’ve heard this applied to so many different parts of the business world that I really can’t even be sure what the origin of this thing is, although I think that it’s something like 20% of an assembly line causes 80% of the problems. Don’t quote me on that. In my opinion that 80% of the time my professors have mentioned this they’ve been 20% full of shit. The good thing about the 80/20 rule is that you can apply it to all sorts of things not even remotely related to the business world.

This is the fourth year I’ve done this St. Croix trip and at this point I can say 80% of the clothing I bring I wear 20% of the time. Knowing this, I’ve finally managed to pack appropriately. Borat bathing suit …check…toothbrush…check…flip flops…check…and that’s about it this year. I have this thing down to a science.

I was very surprised to see how long the security line was this morning. There really is no reason the line should’ve been that long at 6:00am, and I’m pretty sure 80% of the hold-up is caused 20% of the people. At this point everyone should have a system when they get to the airport or get to security. I know which belts won’t set off the metal detector, I know to loosen my shoes as I begin moving up in line, I know to put my cell phone in the small pocket of my bag, and I know to put my boarding pass in my left back pocket. I mean, it’s not really rocket science. I saw some guy this morning just try to walk through with his shoes on after watching the twenty people in front of him take off their shoes. I wish I had an explanation. Wait, I do. It’s that 20% of the people traveling out of Detroit this morning were 80% overweight and my guess is that this guy simply didn’t even realize he had feet because he hadn’t seen them in 15 years. There was also an 80% chance that when he reached for his boarding pass in his back pocket that he’d only get his arm around 20% of his body. These things hold up line, and I’m sorry if I sound insensitive, but I’m just reporting on what I see.

When I finally got to the terminal I put my stuff down and closed my eyes. Some guy sits down next to me and starts chatting. I’ll talk with anyone, but I really wasn’t in the mood. This guy sees the butt of a racquet sticking out of my backpack and starts asking me if it’s a squash racquet, to which I tell him, no it’s a tennis racquet. And then he asks if I’m allowed to bring tennis racquets on the plane. I told him I had special government permission and that ended that. Anyway, I realized that 80% of the people who try to talk to you while you are waiting at your gate are 20% crazy. Back in the Fall I sat next to a strange dude who basically told me he was creating this soft-core porn website. Having told him that I used to be in marketing we were chatting about marketing strategies and media buying and this and that. Then the guy whips out his computer and logs onto his site and starts showing me the “content”, if you will. I mean, I’d been talking to this guy for an hour, and at this point I felt like it would’ve been rude not to look at the site, but it was kind of awkward looking at soft-core porn at 7am in Detroit Metro Airport with this total stranger. Again, 80/20.

Anyway, I’m finally in St. Croix and I’m 80% sure than by tomorrow evening I will be 20% darker. While I still don’t fully understand the 80/20 rule, I urge you all to apply it to your lives because, well, because you can.