Raising Money

There are few things so inherently demeaning as raising money. Oh, it's one thing when times are good (OK, like they are now) and you have a great story to tell (I thought we did). Then it's shooting ducks on the pond, as we used to say. But generally the process of fund-raising is a relentless task, filled with endless rejections and excruciating frustration.

One annoying reality is that most people with money to invest think they are brilliant. They made their money because they were smarter than the other guys. And now, in 45 minutes, they can drill down to the very essence of your business and understand the secrets which have eluded the principals for the five years they have labored long and hard to build it. Their reasons for investing in A or rejecting B often can't stand up to any scrutiny but their own. But frankly, they are absolutely entitled to their opinion. It's their money, and how they evaluate investments is their inalienable right.

We have been out pounding on doors now for over a month. We are doubling our volume organically, have a major retail account in hand for 2007 (that will give us another 600% growth), very good momentum, no more legal entanglements and a management team that has, by most accounts, pulled off the seemingly impossible. And we haven't been able to put the cash together to fund the retail expansion.

Admittedly it's not all glitter and fairy dust. Our balance sheet suffered from litigation expenses and we have very tight timing on the raise. (I'm convinced that if we didn't need the money now, we could put together a very nice VC round in March or April.) We're stuck as a "tweener." We don't have time to raise an institutional round, but we need more money than private investors are typically comfortable with.

This is a long sob story, recorded for posterity perhaps. But it is what it is. I have become an organ grinder, playing my heart out on the busy streets of commerce, but my monkey keeps returning with an empty cup.

If we can't fund this retail deal it will blow up in our faces. Our reputation will be shot. And all that we have fought and sacrificed for will be lost. Our success will be our failure. Life is full of ironies, both comic and tragic. But this is only money, and not funny enough to tell at parties, or tragic enough for sympathy cards. Maybe if I could teach the monkey to dance ...

Football Rivalry

BYU beat the University of Utah football team 33-31 yesterday at Rice-Eccles stadium. It was the culmination of a magical season for BYU, and especially senior quarterback John Beck. And it ended another annual "Rivalry Week" between the two schools, which got too heated, too personal, too vituperative, venemous and vindictive.

Angelica and I went to the game and we were fortunate to sit amongst BYU fans, and a few Ute backers that were very nice. In contrast, the line to the men's room (which was interminably long) was over-populated by Ute fans who drank too much beer during the first two quarters, leaving them with full bladders and empty heads.

The Utah fans in front of me also said that last year at BYU they were treated very rudely, so it goes both ways.

We ought to somehow rise above these primitive instincts. We are no longer warrior-tribes that must rise to a feverish pitch for battle; or nomadic hunters who require courage to fill the bellies of our women and children. No, we are a pampered society with too much time on our hands, and too little good sense to know how to use it. So we dress in red and blue and gratify ourselves by cheering the home team to victory, or wallowing in its defeat.

Next year I am going to the game in Provo. I am going to wear blue, and I am going to make it a point to do something nice for Utah fans.

Thankfully

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I like that it doesn't require a lot of preparation, other than cooking for the day. I like that it's always a four-day holiday weekend--the only one of the year. I like the big traditional meal. I like that it involves football. And I especially like the simple and unappreciated idea of remembering all the things we have to be thankful for.

Maybe it's because of these reasons that Thanksgiving has become a major event in our home. Because I like the holiday so much, we try to share it with family and friends. This year we played our traditional Turkey Bowl in our new ward. Rodger Pickett and his daughters were in town, spent Wednesday night with us and played football Thursday morning. Then the customary big dinner with family and friends from Park City and Salt Lake. Followed by lots of games, including something of a Settlers of Cataan marathon. And of course football. And then, as has become another tradition, officially starting the Christmas season by watching the movie Mixed Nuts.

None of these activities are particularly meaningful by themselves. But over time, they become important traditions for our family, anchors to our past that help define us, that give us something to look forward to, that give relevance to our gathering together.

I'm thankful for these traditions. I'm thankful for Thanksgiving. And I'm thankful for family and friends that make them enjoyable and meaningful.

Viva la County!

In 2005 I served on an advisory committee for Summit County to consider a change in our form of government. The seven of us met approximately twice a month for a year, in addition to various public hearings, research interviews and the like. After a year, we recommended a substantial change to our government structure, going from a three-person commission to a five-person council, and hiring a County Manager to assume all executive responsibilities, reporting to the Council.

The current County Commission approved the measure for the ballot this year, and on election day, despite strong opposition from current county employees, voters narrowly passed the recommendation. How narrow? The difference was only 236 votes out of nearly 11,000 cast.

I've always been attracted to politics, and even though I am no longer a Summit County citizen I was asked to serve on the Summit Steps Forward committee to help get the measure passed. I wrote numerous letters to the editor (from myself, and for others), manned a booth at the Farmers Market, did a radio interview and call-in, wrote emails, helped with publicity, etc.

And here's the gratifying thing--what I did mattered. Not just serving on the committee, which anyone could have done. But rather, getting actively involved in the political process. Volunteering. Serving. In fact, the vote was so close, that I suspect that there were hundreds of people who did something in support of the measure that turned out to make a crucial difference.

It's very easy in elections to assume that your efforts are lost in the tidal wave of the majority. And perhaps that is often the case, although I'm sure that someone's contribution is pivotal. But in this case, everyone who raised his or her voice may have provided the deciding call.

We throw our pebbles in the water and hope that in a sea of calm the ripples dance to distant shores.

In Memory of Laurence Lyon

I attended Laurence Lyons' funeral on Tuesday. It was one of the more interesting funerals I have been to. Laurence was a devoted husband and father, a talented musician and composer, and a well-versed LDS scholar. And I learned that his family called him "Laury," which I found surprising because he seemed so formal to me.

There was a lot of music, including several pieces that he had written. We sang one of his hymns. And there was a duet, and a string ensemble and a recording of a choir. It was all very appropriate, given the role music played in his life and heritage.

Sam and I have been home teaching Laurence and Donna for six months. He had been in and out of the hospital quite a bit over the past six weeks. We were by there about a month ago and I sensed a real change in him. He had softened (not that he was ever nasty, just a bit stiff, and perhaps judgmental). But I saw in his demeanor that he had experienced a change, and it occured to me that he was now seeing life from an eternal perspective. As we left the house, I commented that he was acting like a man who didn't have long to live. It was the same when Sam and I visited with them again a week later. He was positively chatty, which was unusual. (When I set up my first appointment, he said he'd like a 20-minute visit, with a lesson, and not much "chit-chat.")

I will remember him mostly by his impish grin, which came from the inside out, and genuinely reflected the pure delight of something he found clever or amusing. It was a boyish smile, and I delighted to see it. At the funeral, his brother described his sense of humor as "Puckish," and hearing that, the pieces fit together.

A great quote from the funeral, from his daughter. She said that as her father got older, he found household fix-it projects to take much more time and energy than previously. As a result, he had resolved to: "Never do anything for the first time." I wish I had said that.

I like funerals. There is such a sweet outpouring of emotions. And what a wonderful cultural tradition to gather together to learn of the best of people and to reflect on our fondest memories. It was good to know Laurence in life, and good as well to know him in death.

Stranger than Fiction

If you've seen the trailers, you know that in Stranger than Fiction, Harold Crick suddenly hears a narrative voice describing the occasional scenes he encounters in life. While one might naturally expect this to be troubling, the urgency to understand this curious phenomenon increases when the narrator drops the off-handed line that Harold's death is imminent. A shallow and boring IRS auditor, he seeks help first from a psychiatrist, then a literature professor (Dustin Hoffman), falls in love with an auditee (Maggie Gyllenhaal), and eventually discovers the author who is trying to finish Harold's story (Emma Thompson).

Maybe they should have called it Eternal Despair in an Author's Mind. Yes, this seemed a lot like the Charlie Kaufman movie that is one of my all-time favorites. And there are too many similarities to be accidental. Fiction is a surreal dramedy about a socially maladroit guy in his 30's (played by a wildly succesful comedic actor trying to make a transition)who has an unlikely romance with a wild and beautiful yet sensitive young woman. And both have a surprise ending.

Stranger than Fiction has a better supporting cast, including Emma Thompson, Dustin Hoffman and Queen Latifah, which adds some heft, but still doesn't make it as good as Eternal Sunshine because, frankly, it isn't written nearly as well. Fiction is also a funnier movie (particularly Hoffman), although most of the audience at my showing didn't recognize the humor. But in the end, Stranger than Fiction is a cool idea searching for a William Goldman to come in and make it a great movie.

Even more disappointing, Will Ferrell is miscast and turns in a woeful performance, either that or he's been watching too many Wes Anderson movies. And both Emma Thompson and Queen Latifah are workmanlike at best. But Maggie Gyllenhaal once again proves her mettle, and Dustin Hoffman (the greatest actor of his generation) further demonstrates his comedic range and extraordinary ability to make every role his own, unique creation. Without him, Stranger than Fiction would be tiresome, although even Hoffman can't overcome an uneven script.

This could have been a great movie. Instead, it is a singularly interesting idea of the interwoven realities of art and life that manages to mildly entertain as it meanders its way to the final chapter.

Crossing Arizona

I don't like propoganda films, especially documentaries.

Monday night we went to the Public Library for a showing of Crossing
Arizona, a documentary about illegal immigration from Mexico over the Arizona border. Producer Danny DeVivo (no, not Devito!) was there to talk about the movie, which purported to show all sides of a sticky and complex issue. But to me, it looked about as fair and balanced as Bill O'Reilly discussing Hillary Clinton.

Nevertheless, the movie had no obvious premise, glossed over the problems and offered no meaningful solutions or insights, except perhaps that George Bush and the conservatives are mean-spirited idiots. How else will the director get invited to the cool Sundance parties?

Tragically, over 3000 people have died on the Arizona border in the past 10 years, wheras prior to that none had. The cinematic finger keeps wanting to point to NAFTA as the cause, suggesting that subsidized U.S. produce flooding into Mexico has crippled the market for competing Mexican goods. Well, maybe that's part of it, but ... even the movie acknowledges that stiffened border policies in California and Texas in the 90's had a siphoning effect, leading more illegals to attempt the more dangerous Arizona route across the deserts. And while U.S. agricultural subsidies make an easy villain, the low prices probably have more to do with the same large-farm production efficiencies that have put most domestic small farmers out of business. And why didn't we learn why Mexico signed NAFTA in the first place? After all, at its conception it was supposed to benefit the Mexican economy. But unfortunately, even with the elimination of tarriffs, the Mexicans can't compete with the Chinese economic juggernaut fueled by ultra-cheap labor.

But somehow the filmmakers made this all look like George Bush's fault, even though Clinton signed NAFTA. I thought Bush was the guy that was at least floating solutions, while ost politicians preferred to ignore the problem as a no-win issue.

But what reallly bothered me was the emotional manipulation to sell a point of view. I didn't like the selective portrayal of the "Minutemen," the armed volunteer border patrol, who came across as racist zealots, hunting Mexicans like so many bucks and does. And I resented the lingering and sensational footage of the dead, pregnant Mexican woman. It's so easy on film to create good guys and bad guys. Give me a camera and a limited budget and I can make you love or hate almost anyone.

Crossing Arizona was at its best when showing the many selfless volunteers that place water along the routes to help save lives. These people aren't for or against illegal immigration. They are humanitarians. And above all, it was these individuals that I found most compelling.

There are no easy political solutions. Afterwards, DeVivo talked about the failed U.S. immigration policy, but without offering up alternatives. He has every right to make a political documentary if he wants, even a manipulative one that feigns impartiality. And I guess the audience had every right to react with anger and indignation, truth and reality notwithstanding. Welcome to America.

For People Who Talk

We often underestimate the importance of our words. Many people will rationalize their words with the explanation that they weren’t intended to be mean (or nasty, disrespectful, critical, etc.) but they were misinterpreted. The fact is, we are continually judged based on what others hear us say. If we’re misinterpreted, it’s our problem. Others can’t read our minds. And besides, almost every time I’ve heard these rationalizations, it occurs to me that they are exactly that—feeble attempts to logically justify poor judgment or thoughtless behavior.

Beyond their preeminent importance as a communication tool, words can be used to shape how we feel and think, to drive the subconscious in directions we would like it to go. It's not what goes in, but what comes out of the mouth that defiles us.

So here are my Ten Principles for People Who Talk, for your consideration:

1. Think before you speak. If I mastered this one principle, I would silence a fourth of my words and change another fourth.

2. The less “I’s” the better. So many of us want to talk about ourselves, not recognizing that the listener is politely bored. How about a few questions?

3. Quit complaining. Complaints are the static in life's radio. Everyone wants to change the channel.

4. Quit making excuses. Your friends don't need them and the rest won't believe them.

5. Don’t criticize. Didn't your mama teach you that if you don't have anything nice to say about someone ...?

6. Graciously give and receive compliments. This takes surprisingly little practice to master. Mainly sincerity. And if you don't immediately see something worth complimenting, look more closely.

7. Resist the urge to correct. Most egregious is that you might be wrong. But really, is it that important? Probably not.

8. Be an active listener. Don't do this to feign interest. Do it to enhance understanding and appreciation.

9. Be honest. It's easier, and usually more fun. And it's one less thing to worry about.

10. Overcome the desire to win. It's always a hollow victory. And in the same vein, only play "I can beat that" at frat parties.

11. Never pretend to know more than you do. 'Cause you don't, OK?

12. Remind yourself to Shut Up! Much better than waiting for someone else to remind you.