Dustin Curtis asked me to join his Svbtle Network, and I accepted. For the near future, I will be posting over there at Learntoduck.net. Go check out my first post, Your Early Adopters Don’t Matter.

At each meeting, I asked the same question, “What do you think of digital?”

And each one answered the same.

“There are more people pirating my comic books than there are buying them. Perhaps as high as 5 to 10 times.”

The comic book industry, which saw its heyday in the 1990s, when highly successful books would sell in the hundreds of thousands, is now ecstatic if a book sells even fifty thousand.

Online piracy has absolutely decimated the industry.

How bad is it?

Comic books come out every Wednesday. By the time I wake up in California, I can already download most of the books that came out earlier that day on the East Coast.

Its not the big guys, Marvel and DC that get squeezed. It not even the little guys–although most will never see a publisher print their book–that are getting smashed, its the publishers in the middle like Image Comics and Archaia that are feeling the vast weight of piracy the most.

Piracy, on many levels, is helping to drive more market share to the top guys, Marvel and DC (both backed my billion dollar companies that aren’t as sensitive to the success of individual books or creative teams), and eliminating the necessary diversity required to ensure a healthy industry.

As Graphicly has grown, we have seen it time and time again. Small and mid-sized publishers struggling for consumer awareness and acceptance in a world dominated by Spiderman and Batman. As diversity dies, so does the ability for the industry to sustain growth.

Every once in awhile a great story like The Walking Dead will break out, but thats not the norm. Interestingly enough, I would say that the pressure piracy places on the mid-tier publisher has actually driven them to become more creative in order to rise out of the shadows of the big guys, but its not easy.

There is no other way to say it, but that piracy is probably the biggest single digital issue facing the comic book industry.

But SOPA and PIPA are not the saviors that “old media” companies hope it will be.

Giving the government carte blanche to censor sites and control the flow of information will cause more damage, deeper damage, long lasting damage to the industry that I have grown to love. The publishers and creators that Graphicly works to support will be hurt in ways that I personally, cannot be a part of.

There are better ways to end piracy. We can improve access. We can develop a platform that allows publishers and creators to be as creative with the distribution, pricing and promotion of their work as they are with the stories themselves. We can help fans discover great stories easily, simply — no more difficult than clicking on a link — removing the burden of surfacing great content.

We can help connect publishers and creators directly to their fans — and believe you me, pirates are some of the biggest fans in existence, as crazy as that might sound — so that those fans can show their support directly to the stories and creators they love.

On January 18, my blog will be censored. I personally am standing next to many of my friends, mentors and colleagues by doing this.

I have also decided to not blackout Graphicly.com.

I made this decision, because we have thousands of creators and publishers that are making real money distributing their stories in a “new media” style, that it would be wrong to deny that. And, more importantly, the access and discovery it provides to great stories are paramount in the fight against piracy, even if “old media” doesn’t understand it.

I am ardently apolitical, yet stopping SOPA and PIPA is exceedingly important, so important, that I have written about politics for the first time ever in the several years this blog has existed.

I want piracy to end.

I want all the story-tellers that should be discovered to be found. I want them to get paid, and I want their fans to get unending enjoyment out of supporting their work.

But, I won’t stand for censorship.

Focus is my enemy. We battle daily. Every time I think I’ve won, someone tells me that they wish I was better at being focused.

I hate Focus. Focus is for fools. I don’t understand its importance. I hate that its something I have trouble doing. Fuck focus in its stoopid head. I can’t write lists. GTD means nothing to me. I can’t use to-do lists, no matter how awesome they are designed.

But, I finally hacked focus. Ive won.

Here’s how I did it.

1) Using Merlin Mann’s (10+2)*5 hack (Figured if sprints could work in product development, then it can work in my battle with Focus.)

2) Downloaded Concentrate – set up some solid actions around: writing, email, and other fun and exciting activities. (Its funny that music is included in all of my activities)

3) Downloaded Howler Pro – and looped two timers (one for 10min and another for 5min) and run them

BOOM goes the Focus.

Now I challenge myself to do 10min sprints with high degrees of focus. Will I skip breaks? Probably if I get into something fun, but so far, the forced need to take 5 min has been awesome.

Hope it helps.

Oh, and check this article out on structured procrastination. When you have 5 min.

Well, not right now.

Right now, I am doing what I have done every day since I was ten years old. Im sitting in front of a computer banging on the keyboard.

When I was twelve I started participating and hosting BBSes. Standard story of the early 1980s Silicon Valley. I was never a hacker. With or without a Z. I certainly wasn’t 1337, although I did text 80085 a lot.

When I was interviewing at ServiceMagic, I sat down with Rodney Rice (who is still one of the most important mentors I have ever had).

“Why is the internet important?” Rodney challenged me. (If you know Rodney, there was no other way to describe Rodney’s style than one of a constant state of challenge.)

I spent a long pause thinking about it. I thought about my time on the BBSes. The times I sat in front of the Main Frame in my Dad’s office at Stanford. I thought about being the first non-computer science major to have an email address at UCDavis.

“The internet…” I stalled. I thought about how amazed I was using Netscape for the first time and the world it opened up for me.

“The internet facilitates communication and speed information sharing.”

“Exactly,” Rodney smiled. “Exactly.”

Im actually not even close to dead. At least I hope not.

The past year has been an enormous one. For the world things have changed. Really, actually changed.

It feels that we have reached the point where communication and information can’t move faster. They can be optimized and the processes for communicating and information sending and retrieval can be simplified.

And, more amazingly, the breaking down of the communication/information barrier has driven up the demand for transparency. Be transparent; Be real. Its a responsibility, not a right!

That transparency has changed the world. And continues to change it.

But that transparency has also brought to light something that has always existed by like communication and information has been accelerated. Depression.

This year, we had the death of a young entrepreneur. My friend Ben wrote about his thoughts of suicide. Conversations were had, posts written, tweets sent.

But, as the amount of information and communication shared grows, our attention spans decrease. Our mental capacity for data hasn’t grown with the speed of the internet.

Earlier today I read a post my friend Jeffrey wrote in 2008, about how living with a potentially deadly condition has shaped how he looks at life, and tonight I read a post by my friend Dustin. He remarked about how he read a post written by a woman who died from cancer. Her last post.

So I walked in from outside, sat down at my computer as I had done every day for the past 10,950, and decided I would write my last post.

Im not dying of cancer. To the best of my knowledge, I am not dying.

But I wish I would every day.

Well, thats a bit harsh.

I think about what would happen if I died every day. Not in a responsible, how would I handle my affairs sort of way, but in a pros/cons live vs. dying kinda way.

Im not sick. Im not mentally unwell. Ive done it since as long as I can remember. Some days, the positive/negatives are pretty close; other days one truly wins out.

One would think that with those thoughts I would have a clear idea or believe about what happens after death. I don’t. I just don’t know. But the uncertainty of it has never scared me.

I also know I have enough friends and loved ones that if it ever got too bad (it never has) that I would be okay. This post is certainly not a cry for help. I just haven’t said anything because I worried about that potential/current employees, investors, customers, etc might take it incorrectly as instability. Its not, in fact is the complete opposite.

Its my way of saying, “I understand. I get it. Im available.” Its not that life is tough, its that believing in yourself is.

This year I am focused on putting caring at the center of my core (yes, I know that your core is usually your center, so think of it as the center of your center. The deepness of your being). Caring for me; caring for others. I am not sure how I will exactly enact it, but Ill do it.

It will certainly include the setting aside of time; and more importantly reducing my focus on extraneous stimulus.

I am not dead.

And this is only my last post of 2011.

Before I moved back to California a few months back, I saw a therapist once a week for more than 6 years. Its a fascinating process. For me, the process went something like this:

me: So, this happened.
therapist: how did that make you feel?
me: It didn’t. It just happened.

Then I would leave and I would spend days thinking about how I actually felt. How that action/situation truly fit in my life. What I did. What I didn’t do. What happened. Why it happened. What the alternatives were. I would review, reflect, dissect, recombine, and connect. That personal cycle was mirrored professionally, where I explore and try to understand my actions and the actions of others vis-à-vis Graphicly.

For the past several months, I have not had that weekly meeting. Things still happen. I still reflect.

But, I have come to realize that being introspective causes much more difficulty than it solves.

As a person, introspection leads to overanalyzing. It adds complexity to what might be a simple situation. Is it important to understand why things happen? yes. Is it more important to accept that things happen and moving on? yes.

Professionally, introspection can be a catalyst for fear and inaction. The review of each step, forcing a complete understanding of why things happened, creates a culture of inaction. How should startups work?

ceo: So, this happened. Was is good?
team: no
ceo: ok, how do we fix it?
team: this way.
ceo: cool. do it.

I recently read that Dennis and Naveen of Foursquare have a 5 year product roadmap. Is it true? Probably. First time I met Dennis at SXSW (08?), he was talking about foursquare.

Why does that matter? Because there is no need for introspection with that type of vision. There is only a need to ask one question: “Does what we are doing NOW help us get to THEN?”

Introspection is about the past, and while its certainly important to not repeat past mistakes, the best way to ensure that doesn’t happen in hyper-accelerated startupland is to NOT DO THE SAME THING.

Its certainly ironic that I am being introspective about being introspective. But, for me, who spends a lot of time inside my own head, taking time to step outside of my own thoughts and refusing to be pulled back into the often melancholy world of reflection is extremely difficult. For me, 2012 is about action. Its about putting the act of giving more central to my core, rather than have it continue to be a hobby.

Introspection, in being an academic exercise, is the enemy of action.

Be great this year by doing great things. Its simple. No introspection needed.

The man on the left was born in Romania, and was interned in a forced labor camp during WWII. He and a friend bribed their way out of the camp and then escaped towards Palestine, only to be detained by the British in Cypress. While in Cypress, he served as the translator for the British because he spoke English the best. He prided himself on how well he spoke English. While translating for the British, he helped the prisoners steal butter to protect their skin as they swam several miles out into international waters where a ship waited to take them to Palestine. Once in Israel, he settled at kibbutz Dafna, where he met my grandmother and got married, and later when my mother was born, they named her Dafna.

You would never have known this man had has these experience. I once asked him why he didnt talk about those days. “Why should I talk about those days?” he answered, “today is much more fun.”

When I was 13, I decided I wanted to spend the summer with my grandparents in Israel. They lived just outside of Tel Aviv, and staying with them for 2.5 months and getting to see the country was something I dreamed of. Over the course of the year, I worked as hard as I could to save enough money to go. My parents didnt have much money, and the $1200 for the plane ticket was a lot of money. So I worked. My mom and dad saved. And we got enough to go to Israel.

That summer, I created an enormous amount of memories, from the gigantic cockroaches that flew into my grandparents flat; to floating in the Dead Sea; to photographing a pickpocket in action in the Carmel Market. My mom made my grandmother swear to not allow me to “roll off the plane” when I got back, so my diet consisted of plain yogurt, seltzer water and glass noodles — both because my grandmother would not feed me, and because she was the worst cook in the world.

Tel Aviv in the early 1980s was an interesting time. Israel had just invaded southern Lebanon, Jews from Ethiopia and other members of the diaspora were pouring into the country. The currency was in shambles, and the country was in the midst of an election.

My grandmother dragged me all over the country. We saw and experienced everything. It was amazing. The first day I got to my grandparents flat, there was a brisk knock at the door and in Hebrew a voice called, “Is the American boy here yet?” Spending the days playing games we invented with apricot pits with the neighborhood kids was just icing on the cake.

Through it all, my grandfather was his quiet self. Then one day, he asked if I wanted to see a movie. He got dressed in a jacket, tie and a fedora, put a pack of cigarettes in his pocket and shepherded me out the door. We walked to the bus and sat silently as it wound through the Tel Aviv streets.

He stood as we reached our stop and reached out for my hand. We left the bus and walked another block or two to the cinema. As we arrived, I looked up and saw that we were going to see Against All Odds. As a 13 year old boy, lets just say, I was very excited to see it.

As the movie started, there were ads prior to the movie, and everyone in the theater began to smoke cigarettes, and as the movie progressed, it felt so much like it must have been to go see a movie in the 1960s when everyone wore suits and dresses, drank whiskey and smoked.

About half way through the movie, there was an intermission, and while he bought me candy and a coke, he told me of the story of his time in Romania before the war. I had never heard the story, but knew it was something that he didnt normally share. I said nothing. I asked no questions.

The curtain raised and the movie continued, and I sat back and thought about my grandfather. He worked for one of the richest men in the world. A man so rich that he owned a building called the Asia House in Israel that had blue mirrors on the ceiling to simulate water. He dealt with the horrors of the second world war.

And despite it all, he found a woman that he loved and married for more than 50 years, and had two wonderful daughters.

As I settled back in to watch the second half of the movie, I smiled.

How could that be, given the night before at dinner I went on a rant about the fact that no food photo app – not Foodspotting, not Forkly, not any of them – would ever enter the mainstream enough to be interesting.

“It just doesnt integrate into my daily work flow. Its an occasional use app, which means I have to remember to use it. I dont *want* to use it. It doesnt beg me to use it.”

Yet, The Eatery proved me wrong for two reasons. One, it makes me *want* to use it because I want to see if I am eating as healthy as I think I am, and I trust my friends to score my food appropriately.

Two, its perfect enough.

In the world of low-cost startups, where the ability to launch apps makes startups a dime a dozen (and dozen and dozen and dozen), and methodologies like Lean Startup reign, we have developed into a “just launch” culture.

After all, it’s a Minimum Viable Product, right?

In believing that a cycle of launching –> customer development –> iterating –> launching is the way to get to success, we forget that the important part of that cycle is not the launching, but putting ourselves in the place of the customer and solving their problem.

Its that fundamental aspect of building a big special company that we have forgotten somewhere along the line. We are enthralled about the latest Techcrunch article about our coolest feature that just launched or that some app now has 12 million users. We compete on having the greenest grass, and stopped competing on having the strongest solution.

For most people, taking pictures of their food is just not a problem, but understanding the value of what they are eating is a real, huge, defined problem. And by Massive Health focus on the type of information provided in the feedback loop they will have a hit on their hands. (Instead of getting “wow that looks great!” which validates your status as a “foodie” — and is an ego boost among your friends; Massive Health is getting “wow you made a good decision” which validates your decision to do something good for you — and makes your friends feel good for helping out.)

Is The Eatery the perfect app? No, the onboard is a bit much, and the friend management blows. The analytics are a good start, but leave much to be desired. Rating takes a few clicks too many, and some functions carry no descriptions. Yet, by keeping in mind the problem they are solving, the actions they wanted users to take, they have built an app that is just perfect enough.

I implore all founders to stop what they are doing for the next 60 minutes and ask “what problem are we solving?” and more importantly, “does that problem really matter?”

Big businesses are built on the ability to 1) make people feel good about themselves; 2) magically. Not if you have the largest, greenest lawn on the block.

Nice work Massive Health, you have inspired me to re-focus on whats important. Our users.

Related articles

• The Eatery, App Shares Your Photos of Meals to Improve Your Health (laughingsquid.com)
• Why we need to reinvent healthcare with technology (wired.co.uk)
• Forkly Enters The Soon-To-Be-Stuffed Mobile App Taste Space (techcrunch.com)
• Foodspotting Hits A Million Downloads, Celebrates By Upping The Gluttony (techcrunch.com)

A friend of mine, Chris’ dad was amazing. He raced motorcycles. He introduced us to Thomas Dolby. And he loved Apple.

When I was in the fifth grade, I opted out of normal school and went to a magnet school (which before charter schools were all the rage), and while there tested highly in my potential as a business leader, and was given access to a new computer lab full of Apple IIe’s. I played lots of Oregon Trail and was dominate at Lemonade Stand. I loved those Apples.

In the seventh grade, I played on a AYSO soccer team called the Mean Green Machine that my dad and Chris’s dad coached. We shared the field with the Pumas (but we pronounced them the Peeee-uuuuu-mas) and I played with my friend Tommy, who years later, because of Facebook reconnected with me. I still remember the day that it looked like Apple was going to go out of business because Chris’ dad was so sad.

Steve Jobs wasnt an icon. Steve Jobs wasnt a god.

Steve Jobs was Silicon Valley.

People can extol his undeniable focus, and his unique ability to embrace technological beauty, but for me, those were just things that Steve Jobs did. It wasnt what he was. He was me. He embodied everything that everybody tries to describe Silicon Valley as.

When I was in high school, I was invited to this three day conference that was for students that were considered to be the most likely to become business leaders (seriously, you think I would have gotten the hint). The conference took place in Monterrey, and we had a small team that developed a product, the marketing strategy, the pitch, the whole shebang. We created the Peanut Gallery, which was a set of peanut butter and jelly mixes that were in character shaped bottled. We had a jingle. We even had one more thing.

Steve Jobs wasnt an inspiration. Steve Jobs wasnt the second coming.

Steve Jobs was Silicon Valley.

My mom worked at startups for years. In a constant state of getting hired and then getting laid off, failure was something that we understand was part of the fabric of the community in which we lived. In fact, most people who grew up here have faced and survived failure. It is what we do.

Steve Jobs was Silicon Valley.

Bill Gates was always an outsider here. He was the enemy. A symbol of The Man. He did things that we of the Valley would never do. Or, at least, would never admit to doing.

In places like PARC, we sat on bean bags and invented new ways to interact with technology.

We look at straight lines and envision curves. We believe that the only impossible thing is impossibility.

That was Steve Jobs.

Steve Jobs is Silicon Valley and Silicon Valley can never die.

Yesterday, my dad called and asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I said I wanted to replace a faucet, two screen doors and put a solid screen door (which I learned is called a security door) on my front door.

After several hours of Home Depot runs and screen replacements, my dad and I sat in the backyard.

“This year is a weird one, dad”

“Why’s that?”

“I think for the first time, I can see how fast I run my life. I have always gone at 100 mph, and if people cant keep up, then I left them behind.”

My father nodded. “You have always been impatient.”

Its true. I never cared much for the process. When starting something, I am always waiting for the end. I eat quickly, consume mass amounts of data, and never sit still. (Im not ADHD. I just run at a different speed.)

This year is an interesting one. In all my impatience, the other day, I stopped and took an accounting of all the people I know. Of all the people who have made a positive impact in my life. That list is long. I asked myself, am I willing to slow down in my life to spend more time with the awesome people I am connected to, or will I continue to run hard until I cant run anymore?

The answer was a resounding yes. I plan to spend the next year listening more than talking; helping more than taking. I plan to smell some roses, and enjoy the process just a bit more.

We are the sum of our connections.

Today, rather than celebrating that I am a year older, I am celebrating my friends. Each and every one of them. I am celebrating that the great part of “being connected” is the connections themselves.

So, thank you for all the birthday wishes, but more importantly, thank you for helping me realize that life experienced at 100mph is no experience at all.

The more I mentor and advise, the more I start to pattern match around the startups that I enjoy working with (community based customer internet) and those I have no value to add (biotech). But, more importantly, I am learning how to be a better mentor. Much of what David Cohen wrote in his Mentorship Manifesto is right, and here is my philosophy.

1) be honest both with what you can provide and what you cant. If you feel that the startup is not one that you are interested in helping, tell them that. There is nothing wrong with not feeling the connection.

2) Ask, dont tell. Its not your company. Be respectful of that.

3) Be consistent and reliable if you intend to develop a real relationship with the entrepreneur.

Being a first time entrepreneur is a lot like being in kindergarten, where your desires are initially supported unconditionally. When you were six, and you told your parents that you wanted to be an astronaut, your declaration was met with complete and total support.

Many of the entrepreneurs I meet are in this stage. They have spoken to friends, coworkers and perhaps a few customers, all who want to be supportive of the entrepreneurs dream. They want the entrepreneur to feel love, not despair, and so fill them completely with hope.

As a mentor, your job is not to dash the dream, but add realism to the endeavor. Dont tell them they cant be astronauts, tell the entrepreneur that they have to study math to be an astronaut, and give them the direction to determine if they even like math.

Usually at this point the entrepreneur will either make the necessary adjustments based around realistic assumptions, or they will not. If they dont, well, that an important data point in your decision to continue the relationship.

After that first big pivot (all startups have one), your role as the mentor is to help them determine if they have pivoted into the wind or not. Often an entrepreneur will make things more complicated given the belief that simple is easy to copy, and therefore cant be interesting enough as a business. Complicated is where it is at. Being the only one is better than being the best one.

“No one is making an automated peach pitter. Lets do that. And check it out, I did it with a Roomba, Mechanical Turk, Django and an iPad app. MONEY!”

Your job as mentor is to help the entrepreneur understand how to understand if they are solving a real problem, and if the market size and potential really has, well, potential.

Once a solution and market is decided on, and the entrepreneur starts to focus on product, as a mentor you have one question to ask.

“Have you launched yet?”

“Well, not quite, we were talking to a big VC, and they said…”

“Interesting. Have you launched yet?”

“Um, no.”

“Then go launch.”

Outside of all the crazy valuation conversation that is occurring around startups, especially Valley startups and accelerator startups, the best way to add value to your company is to have a product that people are using, and better yet, paying. If you havent launched a product, you will probably lose $1-$2mm off your pre-valuation (or cap on your note). More importantly, the company will learn that simple trumps everything, and the product will have focus and direction.

Now, the entrepreneur is coming to you as an advisor or mentor to help them raise money. There are two very specific ways you can help: 1) let them practice pitch you often; and 2) introduce them to the RIGHT investors. It is important to me to be positive deal flow for my friends who are investors. I will never present a company that I dont personally believe in or that I think is right for the investor. Many times, once a company reaches this stage, I will tell them that I am not the person to help them out raising money (mostly because I dont think they have spent enough time understanding the problem, their solution or their potential market).

The most important thing to do at this point is dont let the startup convince themselves they have to raise money. Raising money or bootstrapping is a choice of control and financial necessity. The longer the entrepreneur can go without raising money, the better, but once they are ready to really scale the business, then raising money becomes a real decision to make for the entrepreneur — not you.

The biggest value you can ever provide as a mentor is helping the entrepreneur discover their path for themselves. Being a mentor is an act of supportive self-discovery not one of explicit direction. Its hard to not just tell the entrepreneur what to do — after all, you’ve gone down that path and have succeeded or failed, so you should know — but fight that instinct, and instead, help them become better leaders, dot connectors and problem solvers.

And how do you measure success as a mentor? Not by how many of the companies you work with exit — you had little to do with that; but simply by how many of the founders you work with become mentors themselves.

Related articles

• The Mentor Manifesto (davidgcohen.com)
• NASA Is Running Out of Astronauts [Space] (gawker.com)
• Mark Peter Davis On The Biggest Misconception About Startup Valuations (businessinsider.com)

Ten years ago, I woke up in Oakland, CA. Did mean much on any other day. But on that day, planes crashed into the World Trade Center, and changed so much of the American fabric.

I thought about that day in Rockridge this morning. It has a unique significance because just a few months after 9/11, I left California for Colorado for what I expected to be a summer, and ended up being nearly 10 years.

That morning ten years ago, I was busying building a startup in my bedroom in a really nice house I shared with three others. As all us startup folks do, I worked late and woke up late. That morning, for some reason, I woke up early, and as I grasped my door handled and pulled it open, still groggy from the late night, one my one roommates stood in the hallway and looking at me with wide eyes, she yelled at me “Planes are falling out of the sky!”

I remember thinking to myself, “What the fuck, Chicken Little?” But, confused, I turned on CNN just in time to watch the second plane slam into the towers.

Sitting down on my bed, I watched in silence. I kept switching from local news to national news. I knew this wasnt an accident. I knew that it was something bigger. Having family in Israel, I was taught at an early age that everyone wanted to kill Israel. Bombings were common place. Many people forget, but in the first Gulf War, Iraq bombed Israel consistently for weeks without a response (on the orders of the US). Having friends and family go through the mandatory Israeli military service teaches us that the world is full of evil and I remember at the moment being so sad that Americans were getting a taste of the same hardness. It was like learning that fire burned by having a lit cigarette smashed into your arm.

My roommates debated on what we should do — should we stay home? Was the Bay Bridge safe? The news said that the bridges were being targeted as were the major buildings on the West Coast. Mostly, we each sat and listened and watched and worried.

As the days after 9/11 passed, I knew I wanted to go to NY and see the damage for myself. It wasnt until November of 2011 that I could get out to NY given it took a good couple of months for air travel to settle down and get back into a rhythm. I landed in New York with a couple of tshirts, shorts and a pair of tennis shoes. I stayed with a good friend of mine, Channing, from college, who lived in Jersey City at the time, and worked at Edelman in Times Square.

When we got to his apartment, he brought me to his gigantic window, and he pointed to the far right.

“Thats where they were.”

I stood quietly, as he talked about that day in September where he was late for his train, the train that he never missed and always transferred at the WTC stop. He talked about standing in that exact spot and watching the planes hit the towers and feeling completely helpless.

The next day, we took the train into Manhattan, and I walked over to his office. “Im going to wonder the city.” I said. I want to visit places that I have never visited.

So, in a longsleeved orange t-shirt, a pair of long shorts and a new set of kicks, I started walking. Even in the middle of November, the energy of the city kept me warm enough (but clearly every New Yorker thought I was an idiot, and didnt fail to remind me it was November).

I walked to the Empire State Building, and went to the top. I marveled at the park and the straightness of the streets. I walked to the Chrysler Building. And I continued to walk, and walk and walk.

Suddenly, I remember noticing that all the noise of the city had ceased. The streets were relatively empty, and seemed to almost shine. As I looked up, I realized that I was on my way to Ground Zero. I hadnt planned walking there, but I was glad that I hadnt stopped to grab a cab.

As I approached Ground Zero, I remember getting almost surreal in its silence, and when I finally reached the site, I reached for my camera to take some photos.

Slowly it dawned on me that I stood in front of a huge fence with thousands and thousands of photos of people lost. I couldnt take a photo, and slid my camera back in my pocket.

For next fifteen or twenty minutes, I just stood there. I just allowed the enormity of what had happened wash over me, and it did. Not in waves; more like a brick. I remember that I didnt get angry, but at that moment, I understood completely the anger felt by so many of my friends. Before me stood, as cliché as it sounds, a reminder that not only were we untouchable as a country, but that people hated us for no good reason. The feeling that sat in my gut was very similar to the feeling I had when I visited Yad Vahshem in Israel and The Holocaust Museum in DC. Its not that I am comparing the Holocaust to 9/11, but the feeling of not understanding why one people hated another for what felt like such stupid reasons.

So I stood quietly. I watched a mother bring her son to the fence and talk to him about what had happened. A young couple stood and cried. And so many people just seemed tired; really, really tired.

After about an hour, I could no longer absorb the energy of the area. Sighing, I turned and continued to walk south towards Battery Park.

As an entrepreneur these are concepts that we rail against. The first thing an entrepreneur learns is to solve a problem that they have passion about. To find something that needs fixing or changing and focus on that.

Be the change. Make something happen. Be an agent of change.

Each one of us find a particular problem or industry and we disrupt. We figure out a new way of looking at things and apply technology and work flows to add efficiencies. We take that which should operate differently, and make it so.

Some of the greatest inventions and companies have come out of this desire to see change.

But most entrepreneurs dont work on the hardest thing to change, themselves.

Everybody, not just entrepreneurs, find patterns and routine comforting. Our brains prefer it. As information is passed from short-term to long-term memory, the ability to create and match patterns makes learning and living easier. We dont have to test that a chair is a chair, you can just assume its a chair, and be right 99.5% of the time.

Even in the businesses we build, we do the same thing. Ruby gets hot. Maybe everyone is just using AWS. Want to be successful? Go to Y-Combinator or Techstars. Be a Hacker. No, be a Hustler. Just do it how everyone else has done it and you should be fine.

But what about us as people? Shouldnt the people who apply so much energy in disrupting industries and changing how people communicate, interact, fly, rent houses, meet each other, apply some of that energy to themselves?

Shouldnt we be better at it than everyone else?

My first boss out of college and I were talking one day. I asked him what type of music he listened to.

“Why?”

“You can tell a lot about people by the music they listen to.”

“Really? You would think of me differently if I listened to reggae or classical music? The truth is that most of us spend our time making assumptions about other people who are frequently wrong. I would suggest you try to make no assumptions and let people prove to you who they are.”

Great advice.

Somewhere along the road, I began to make assumptions about happiness. About what a “startup CEO” should be. About entrepreneurship. And those assumptions led to patterns, and those patterns led to routines. And those routines lead to settling. Being ok with that which should not be ok.

Starting today, I am breaking those assumptions, patterns and routines. I am disrupting myself. I am reviewing and questioning everything.

One of my favorite phrases from the Game of Thrones books is “words are wind.” Being an agent of change means being open and willing to changing anything, even if that is you.

Before anyone thinks too deeply about the personal reasons for me writing this post, let me be clear – I think EVERYONE should live in a constant state of action – outcome - evaluation – pivot personally and professionally. Improvement doesnt occur from stasis. For entrepreneurs we are so much more willing to settle in our personal lives while fighting for everything in our startups. I am suggesting that we all take a step backwards and take a moment to look within.

Be disruptive. Make yourself uncomfortable.

Be an agent of change.

I hate everything that they represent. I spent my life, since I was nine, living a life that doesnt require suits. I wear sunglasses, a t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops always. Sometimes shoes, and maybe jeans, but never a suit.

Never a god damn suit.

So when Jeffrey called me to talk about his upcoming wedding, I knew I was screwed.

“Micah. Listen. I need you to wear a suit.”

“I dont wear suits.”

“It wont be that bad. We are all wearing suits. And soon as the ceremony is over… Poof! turn back into Micah.”

“Seriously, dude, I dont wear suits. I dont even own a collared shirt.”

“And I have a tie for you. You dont even need to buy a tie.”

“None of my shoes have laces. I have no undershirts. I dont wear suits.”

I also dont go to weddings.

Ive been to three in my life. One for my best high school friend. One for my best college friend, and now one for my best adult friend.

But, here I sit at 1:53 am having done both.

I did it not because it was a chance to push myself out of my comfort zone (although suits are really not comfortable); nor did I do it because it was Jeffrey’s day and thats what I was supposed to do.

I did it because I am now a grownup.

We spend so much of our lives avoiding growing up or trying to stay young. We color our hair, we date younger chicks, we listen to Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez, or we start companies that sell comic books.

Today, as I put on my suit, I cringed. I knew I was going to sweat (Its Chicago. Its August.) I knew I was going to be self-conscience. I knew I would have to deal with people joking about my suit and wanting to take pictures of this rarest of occasions.

As the day progressed, I continued to sweat my ass off in the suit and my displeasure at the situation worsened.

But then the ceremony started. And I stood next to Jeffrey’s oldest friend Burton, behind Jeffrey under a tent and in front of hundreds of friends and family.

And I finally understood.

No matter how hard I tried. No matter how much energy I put into avoiding it; I couldnt. I just couldnt.

Jeffrey and Kelly worked their way through the speeches of their family members, and recited their vows.

Then, in the moment between the words “you are man and wife” and the cheers when Kelly grabbed Jeffrey, bent him over and made out with him like he was the last man on earth (at least thats what I wished happened – in truth, they lovingly kissed one another) – it was clear.

I was a grown up.

We were.

We have a million stories about things we did as kids. Stupid shit — illegal shit — stuff that if we ever have kids we would beat them within inches of their lives for doing. But, we would never do those things again.

We would never be made fun of by our friends while we puked from being so drunk that getting home was a blur. We would never skip a week of school just to get the high score on the Pacman machine at the local supermarket.

You get it. We grew up.

But growing up isnt the horrible thing I thought it would be. It isnt about the lose of identity and the assumption of our souls into the Borg of The Man.

It doesnt even mean PTA meetings and living with plastic covers on the couch.

It means that we can enjoy each other for what we are–good and bad–and on occasion, when asked, we can put on a suit just to make someone else happy.

I love the fact that my life is about being proud of the success of my friends and the people I love. I am energized by watching some of the smartest people I know, who look at the world in unique and highly innovative ways, dance with each other just because they can.

It made me think of the final scene in The Breakfast Club.

“Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong.

But we think you’re crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us… In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions.

But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain…and an athlete…and a basket case…a princess…and a criminal.

Does that answer your question?

Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.”

I spent the night with my Breakfast Club. My grown up Breakfast Club. My suit wearing Breakfast Club.

And it was perfect.

Congratulations Jeffrey and Kelly!

A secret isn’t a secret when everyone knows.

But, what I have learned is that it’s not the secret itself that matters, but the reasons behind that secret.

Lets get the secret of out the way.

Next month, I will be moving to SF. Not Graphicly, just me.

Why?

That’s a pretty easy answer. It’s the right thing to do.

Why?

I grew up in California. This is the longest I have ever been away from California. I find myself travelling out there more and more, mostly because its home. And that’s the crux of it. No matter where I have lived, for how long I have lived, California has always been home.

Why else?

Because the business told me so.

In today’s world you can start any business anywhere (and raise money for that business anywhere). Location is a far secondary consideration to starting and building a business. I have seen plenty of awesome startups in Boulder, and plenty of idiot founders in San Francisco. The location doesn’t matter.

As the business grows, you find that the majority of your sales and partnership activities start to focus on an area. Your talent recruitment begins to coalesce in a single location. For Graphicly, I found myself in LA and SF at least once a month. NY was every couple of months. Where I didn’t find myself a lot was Boulder.

David Uslan, an awesome business development guy in LA came onboard. We recruited an amazing product (Micah Laaker) and tech lead (Dan Theurer) in Palo Alto, and two fantastically talented developers in SF (Mark Rebec) and Palto Alto (Zach Graves). I started to spend 95% of my day on Skype with the team in California.

Even though I was in Boulder, I was spending little time in Boulder. And when I was working out of our Boulder office, I spent all my time on skype with folks on the West Coast.

The business is telling me that I should be in California.

It’s the money right?

Fundraising really didn’t factor. We’ve had no problem raising more than $4 million in Boulder, with both rounds being well oversubscribed. We have investment from top-tier investors from Houston, Omaha, Arizona, LA, SF and NY. Recently, we have started to field a lot (a lot!) of calls from investors in NY, LA and SF. We are about story and entertainment. We are about community and collaboration. Those are businesses that East and West Coast investors understand and have more experience.

Is it Boulder?

Look, if I was married, had kids, was dating someone, or a huge lover of snow or the outdoors, I would have found a way to stay. Other than the tech community and my coworkers, Boulder is not my home. I’m a California Kid, and it’s just time. I feel that I am not “leaving” Boulder. I’m just not going to live here anymore. All the relationships stay intact. We have an office here, that I will be at–a lot–and most importantly Techstars and my friends are here.

Boulder, as a community, is amazing. It’s not any one person, and I am grateful for whatever part my interactions have been received positively.

Look out San Francisco. Be ready for a dude who learned his best startup tricks on the streets of Boulder, CO.

Hope you are ready.

Related articles

• Cars and Sweet Tea (learntoduck.com)
• 5 Ways to Inspire (learntoduck.com)
• What’s in the water in Boulder, Colorado? Collaboration and success. (thenextweb.com)
• “Boulder is for Startups” (whitehouse.gov)
• TechStars Boulder: Inside the magic and mentorship of the top startup accelerator (thenextweb.com)

That how I describe the last two months. Since March 23, I have been on the road for 31 days (31 / 58 days).

Hell.

During all those flights and late nights in hotels, this thought has been percolating in the back of my brain.

What inspires me?

More accurately, who.

Now before I dive in and start naming names, let me start by saying I am limiting myself to 5. Which is hard. Really hard. I get inspired by moments. And everyone, from my mom to the Queen of England have done one thing that is inspiring. (Think about it. Go to a coffee shop, watch how much care the barista takes in pouring coffee — not making it, just pouring it — its amazing that someone cares so much about something that will disappear in a matter of seconds.)

Back to my five. Why five? Because five is hard, both in limit and selection.

Here are my rules:

1) They have to be people I call friends. People I know in real life and have spent more time talking about not-work than work.

2) They have to be alive. Sorry Grandma.

3) They probably dont realize the effect they have on my life daily.

One last thing. As you read this, think of the five that inspire you. Write a post. Link to here. Or dont. But thank them. I bet they have no idea.

Michael Galpert

Michael (@msg) Galpert and I met a few years back at SXSW. We were introduced by Jeffrey Kalmikoff in a very Jeffrey way: “You guys will love each other. But not like that. You dont think I meant that, did you? I mean I am not homophobic at all, right?”

Jeffrey was right. I have no idea what MSG thought of me, but I knew immediately he would be someone I could learn from, and boy have I.

Michael has inspired me with his ability to actively listen and care. As a founder of Aviary, he truly cares about his company and the people that use their tools. He cares that the people around him around enjoying themselves — not in a playboy/host kind of way, but in a “it matters” kind of way.

People like to like Michael.

Me? Ive been a pretty unlikable person most of my life. I am pushy and arrogant and think I know everything (which is true). I cut people off when I talk, and I worry about me. All the time.

Michael has taught me to care. Not just about the people and world around me, but for me too. Being a good person is not just so others like you; its also so you like you.

Thanks MSG. Im glad we are friends.

David Cohen

This was hard, only because I put David Cohen/Brad Feld/Seth Levin/Jason Mendelson/Howard Lindzon in a unique group. I finally decided to list David because he really got me re-involved in the tech industry. After I sold Current Wisdom in 2007, I was itching to start a new company or get back involved in the tech industry. I was introduced to David through my friend Danny Newman, and I put together an email outlining an idea I have been mulling about around the pet industry.

Here was his response: “I dont know anything about the pet industry, so I cant be helpful, but why dont you come up to Boulder and we can chat about Techstars?”

Since that moment, I have dove head first into helping entrepreneurs, and through it all David has been a great friend and advisor. When I was thinking about jumping back into the fray with Graphicly, he was the first to be supportive about the move.

David taught me that the greatest value I could bring to the tech community was participation.

Thanks David. Glad you asked me to participate.

Lauren Leto

If the first two made sense, I would guess this one doesnt. Not because Lauren isnt awesome, but because I havent known her for very long. Soon after she launched Bnter, I started following it and her. I tend to be a bit of stalker  in learning what I can about founders of companies I find interesting, mostly because I want to understand the why. Why this company, why now, why the passion?

I found out that Lauren was the founder of Texts From Last Night, which, frankly, I have never found to be particularly compelling. Funny? yes. Interesting? No. Its like watching someone get kicked in the balls. Texts from college kids about getting drunk or having sex? Thats like watching people breathe. Its a 21st century fart joke. Still funny.

But Bnter is really interesting. Its about moments. About pieces of conversation. Its about a loss of context. Imagine sitting in a coffee shop and overhearing 15 seconds of a conversation, and building context around that. As a people watcher and someone who loves trying to understand the motivation behind behavior, communication and interaction, bnter is right up my alley.

When I found out that Patrick Moberg was her cofounder, I was sold. I have been a huge fan of his for the past several years, and I credit him with getting me into blogging full-bore.

So when I finally reached out, we connected via twitter, and I invited them both to a Startup Breakfast I hosted in NY, which they both blew off. I assumed that Lauren, given she is that rare thing — a chick in tech, assumed that my intentions were not pure, and bailed out.

A month or two later, when I was headed to Detroit to speak at Funded By Night, she tweeted that she should also go, given she was from Detroit. So did John Laramie, co-founder of AdStruc, a company I mentored at Techstars. Turned out to be awesome to have both of them.

Over the next week, John, Lauren and I had epic email conversations and ended up spending about 2 days in Detroit together chatting. Those email conversations, which showcased each of our personalities (John’s confidence is a wonder to behold. Just ask him.), and are probably only funny to us, have continued in double epic fashion.

So what about Lauren inspires me? My personal biggest battle is my image. Not in terms of looks and dress, since I am a fat slob, and probably will always be “eccentric” in my fashion choices, but in terms of me.

Lauren is amazing at handling the difference between expectation and self. I wish I could do it. Instead, I tell poop jokes. But after interacting with her, I am picking up some great tricks to move myself beyond just being a kicked in the balls joke.

Thank you Lauren. Glad you realized I wasnt a stalker (and made it possible for me and Patrick to hang out).

AJ Vaynerchuk

The easy Vaynerchuk to pick is Gary, right? Wrong. I met AJ at the same time I met Gary. We were at a conference in Chicago, and that night, I ended up with Gary, AJ and a couple of others playing Cranium. Luckily for me, AJ and I were a team, and I am pretty sure we won. (We certainly beat Gary’s ass).

At the time, AJ was still going to BU, and from the outside, it appeared that his job was to hang out with Gary. To be his right hand, perhaps head of his entourage.

Boy would you be wrong.

Soon after graduating from school, AJ co-founded VaynerMedia with his brother. With Gary’s commitments, AJ doubled down on building VaynerMedia. Was it easier because Gary was also involved? Sure. But not a slam dunk.

Over the past few years, AJ and I have become solid friends and as time has passed I have watched his growth as an entrepreneur. He handles being “Gary’s Brother” with major aplomb. He keeps his identity while be associated with a big personality like Gary.

But, what most people dont know about AJ is how competitive he is. He is the quiet energy to Gary’s explosiveness, but he his constantly thinking about how to win, but in the right way. Winning because you are better and its clear to the vanquished that you should have won. Winning in a way, where the beating is served with learning, and everyone is glad to see you win.

Thank you AJ. glad you taught me how quiet is as important as noisy, and winning is always ok.

Natalia Baldwin

Not in the tech game — I think she has six followers on Twitter — my sister is the type of person that worries about how she effects the world. (The other type of person — me — worries more about how the world effects him. Neither are bad, they just are.) A teacher at an East San Jose high school, she teaches a couple of classes of kids that want to go to college, and if they do, will be the first in their families. They fight against social blockades to this dream, and often, are unable to rise against everything that is trying to hold them back.

Natalia tries hard. She is a good teacher. She cares. Really cares. Its something that I struggle to do. Each person has their own struggles; Im happy to be helpful, but to commit my life to see other succeed, is something I cant do. I try to change the world by providing people with opportunity. She tries to change the world by helping kids understand there is a new path.

Amazing.

Every year, I go to her classroom and speak to her classes. These are not bad kids. They want to excel — you can see it in their eyes. And that desire to excel is directly related to the effort Natalia puts in with them.

Thanks Natalia. You’ve inspired me to care. Actually care. Its hard, and you’re awesome at it. Thanks.

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• TechStars Boulder: Inside the magic and mentorship of the top startup accelerator (thenextweb.com)
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