Average American Billionaire

This afternoon I found myself watching a “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” type show that glamorized the material buying power of a handful of billionaires around the world. From the humble, almost embarrassingly small fortunes of dot-com entrepreneurs (~ $3B) to Saudi Royalty (~$20B) to the Gates and Slims of the globe ($50B+), there was seemingly no end to the thought and creativity put into spending those hard-earned, or more commonly hard-inherited, piles of cash. So I got to thinking: What would the proportional equivalent of my last five transactions be had I the wealth of a billionaire? That is to say – if I spent 0.01% of my net worth on a cup of coffee, how many dollars would that be if I were mega-ly rich, and what could I have bought instead?

Maths:

First off I need some numbers: Prices of things I bought; a value assigned to me; and a comparative billionaire’s value. Let’s do the easy part first.

In chronological order, most recent transaction on top, these are the last five purchases that I made with my check card. They are typical prices for a variety of products and services with regular (daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly) reoccurrence. Fair game for a fun comparison.

Coffee Shop     -    $12.83

Car Wash         -    $15.00

Dinner Out        -    $40.00

Soccer Cleats    -    $111.00

Hair Cut            -    $30.00

Now for the tougher, more variable numbers: What value should I assign to myself? I have options.

• Cash on hand
• Net worth
• Income reported for 2012
• Income percentile for Americans

And while we’re on the subject of defining value, what makes a Billionaire in this sense – aside from having at least a thousand million dollars? Again, lots of options.

• Having exactly $1B
• Average Billionaire’s wealth
• Average American Billionaire’s wealth
• Average cash liquidity

I’m writing this crap so I get to choose. We’ll use what might currently be in my bank account against the net worth of the “Average American Billionaire” so we come as close to buying power apples to buying power apples as possible.

So let’s say I’ve got $20k cash in my checking account (I don’t, but let’s say I did). And let’s use Forbes’ March 13 article that says the average American billionaire has a net worth of $4.2B. As an equivalent percentage of my newly found billions, this is what I would have spent between yesterday and today:

Coffee Shop     -    $2,694,300

Car Wash         -    $3,150,000

Dinner Out        -    $8,400,000

Soccer Cleats    -    $23,310,000

Hair Cut            -    $6,300,000

So, how would I have done it? Let’s start at the top.

Coffee Shop Budget: $2.7M (.064%)

Coffee and a sandwich? No sir; coffee plantation is the new name of the game. Looks like .064% of my wealth is good for about 812 acres of prime Costa Rican coffee country, which just so happens to be currently available for a cool $2.4 million dollars. Add a few hundred grand for machinery and labor and I’ve made my first purchase of the day. Incidentally, this is a working farm, which means it’s an investment that will pay dividends. If my calculations are correct, and they almost certainly are not, this farm could begin to pay me back in a big way in fewer than ten years.

Car Wash Budget: $3.1M (.075%)

Surprisingly, or maybe not, $3.1M will not buy any car in the world. There were a handful of new models released this year eclipsing that sum, to say nothing of the vintage and classic machines selling for ten times or more what the car budget is. So discretion is advised. I choose the Lamborghini Sesto Elemento. It sets me back $2.9M so I should have enough left over to get it washed. Alternatively I could buy three of these, if the muse descends. Now, for the real me, the me with a few grand in the bank, a car wash is quite literally pocket change. As soon as I have too many quarters in my cup holder to turn a corner quietly, I wash my car. So to be clear; buying three Bugatti Veyrons to the Average American Billionaire is about as impactful as a Normal washing his car.

Dinner Out Budget: $8.4M (.200%)

Dinner – it was good, it was Indian. So can I buy an Indian? I feel like that’s what a billionaire might do. I asked Google but got mixed results. I know for sure I can pay an Indian, if not purchase one outright. And by one I mean a fucking army. English speaking live-in housemaids with good hygiene and a familiarity with Western foods (there are dozens of expat blogs that speak to these things – their words, not mine) can earn 120,000 Rupees (~$2,000) per year. IT professionals with 10+ years experience can earn 1,200,000 Rupees (~$20,000) per year. I think a good mix within that range would be beneficial. So if we expect an average salary of 500,000 Rupees ($8,400) per year, I could have a staff of 1000 Indians. Not sure what I want them doing just yet, but that’s fine. How does the Margaret Mead quote go? “Never doubt that a large group of Indians can change the world; indeed it’s the only thing that ever has” or something like that.

Soccer Cleats Budget: $23.3M (.555%)

Didier Drogba. He’s a striker who plays for Chelsea. He’s the 20^th most highly paid soccer player in the world and I don’t like him. And I don’t like Chelsea. I would buy Didier Drogba for two years and bench him. Nobody said I had to use my powers for good.

Hair Cut Budget: $6.3M (.150%)

The most expensive hair cut I could find was like $30k, and that was only because the salon dude was flown to the Middle East on a private jet so he could cut a Sultan’s hair. From a fashion perspective, the watch I want is like $3k, suits seem to top out at $120,000, shoes stop around $2k, and even a billionaire shouldn’t be paying much more than $200 for jeans. There was a Victoria Secret bra that sold a while back for $12M, but that’s outside the budget and probably wouldn’t fit me anyway. So I’m at a bit of a loss. I could probably spend $300k on clothes, but I’d still have another $6M left over. I guess it doesn’t have to stay in the realm of fashion, but I may need some help with the last few dollars. Any ideas?

300 Words

I’ve always fancied myself as someone on the precipice of becoming a writer. I’ll admit to the occasional vague, fleeting fantasy of the prestige that comes with being defined by creativity. But until now I hadn't given much thought to what being a writer actually means. This on its own goes a long way in explaining why I am not that now, and probably never will be. But, since I’m on the topic at the moment, let me flesh out what exactly it means to “be” a “writer”.

So first things first: Is there some measurable threshold that could demarcate who is and who is not a writer; a line in the sand that empirically demonstrates success or failure in the realm of communication and creativity for its own sake? Of course not. That’s ridiculous and probably insulting. So naturally I’ll give it my best shot.

The notion of successfully “being” in this context can be measured in any number of ways. I’ll examine three of them: Audience, accolades, and earnings.

Audience

To me, success in terms of audience is regularly being read by more people than I have friends on Facebook. A crude yardstick if ever there were one, but it skirts the chance that my FB friends are nice, and out of sympathy, read whatever garbage I vomit onto a page. In order to assure myself that it isn’t just my mom and wife who read this stuff, we must surpass that threshold.

Accolades

And speaking of my mom and wife, (the more I look at that phrase, the more it seems as though the two could be one. They aren’t, I assure you) they are suspiciously supportive of my pencil drool. So some good, solid, third-party pats on the back are needed to differentiate between irresponsible encouragement and actual kudos.

Earnings

Replacing my current income (had I any) with money paid for writing would be a great indicator of success, if not entirely over-ambitious. In fact, now that I’m married, if our combined income could match what I made while employed – or even half that – I would count it as a success. Come to think of it, if writing brought enough money to buy one sandwich per day I would count myself a winner.

So that covers the “be”. What about that other part – “writer”. What is that?

Technique and content – two elements that must achieve equilibrium before a message can be properly received by its audience. Simple messages require little technique. Think street signs; just be clear and brief. Likewise, complex thought deserves precision, subtlety, and nuance in execution. The writer’s trick is appropriately applying his technique to match his message. But herein lies a very important implication; that the writer writes something worth reading. Otherwise you, the receiver, might be presented with miles and miles of very readable empty space (see above).

And above all else, ignoring the fact that I categorically fail at each of my own metrics for success, and forgetting for the moment that my technique falls somewhere between teratoma and high school freshman, I have nothing to say. Not worth you reading anyhow. And that’s why, I think, I’ll only develop as a hobby writer, rather than as a professional.

So that’s the landscape I find myself in – resigned to the fact that money will be made elsewhere, and writing pushed the margins of my day. It’s not so bad, really. Like I said before, there is no message that will go unheeded as a result. But I still hope to develop my skills, so my nothing to say won’t go entirely unnoticed. As a result, I am challenging myself to write a minimum of 300 words of nothing, per day, no excuses, for one week. I’ll start tomorrow.

Lincoln's Dilemma

Congratulations! You’ve just been handed the keys to the Lincoln Motor Company in last ditch attempt to salvage Ford’s underwhelming luxury brand. What do you do now? You could sell parts and patents to the Chinese for enough money to literally skydive with a golden parachute; but do you really want to be remembered as the guy who finally killed the Town Car?

Ok, bad example.

A business model with an expiration date

For too long Lincoln has simply gussied-up the exceptional work done by their “blue-collar” brothers and sisters in a half-hearted attempt at brand stratification. And while badge-engineering is, to an extent, an accepted practice by manufacturers occupying space across multiple demographics (i.e. economy & luxury makes), it is neither as thinly applied, nor as extensively used as it is between Ford and Lincoln models.

And herein lies the major problem: Lincoln does not have the luxury (pun very much intended) of falling back on the rock-solid reputation of a parent brand in the same way that Acura, Infinity, and Lexus enjoy the near mythic reliability of Honda, Nissan, and Toyota. Admittedly Ford has moved heaven and earth to convince the buying public that theirs is a brand finally worthy of comparison to neo-traditional competitors from Japan and Korea, but this has done little in the way of bolstering their luxury arm.

In fact, the shift in perceived quality at Ford has drained what little value Lincoln held, prompting major differentiation between brands now to be found in the buying experience and service orientation, rather than on a product level. And while these are important elements of a successful luxury brand, they are not enough on their own.

Solving for Lincoln

The first order of business is clarify, if not redefine entirely, the role of the American luxury car in a competitive and globalized businesscape. We must reconcile with the notion that consumers shouldn’t have to sacrifice quality for domestic loyalty, realize the right to build the finest cars in the world, and recognize that heritage and evolution are not mutually exclusive.

This challenge is met through the conception of a halo project – a clarion call of brand values to inform design language and performance ideals – something that excites a new generation of potential Lincoln enthusiasts. Our new flagship will be from the beginning a proof of concept in engineering perfection, not an exercise in mass production, and never to be used as fleet meat. The Lincoln Halo will breathe life into the brand by highlighting strengths in the current portfolio and buy enough time to ready the next generation of product made in the Halo’s image. But this begs two important questions: Who is Lincoln now, and who must Lincoln become?

Well, who we are now is underscored in a Polk survey showing that at 60 years old, ours are the most “distinguished” customers in the industry – three years older on average than Cadillac buyers (the  next closest competitor) and 10 years older than the performance oriented Audi – BMW crowd. So for argument’s brevity’s novelty’s sake let’s split the difference and start getting to know our new target market: At 55 years young, the Lexus buyer becomes a challenging yet highly enticing source of inspiration and income. And the expectations they bring are no less than perfection in terms of reliability, refinement, class, and tech. But builder beware; we must never take the fatal misstep of imitation – as the nature of imitation is limitation in terms of creativity and innovation. So with that in mind, and market share ready to be stolen, our new product portfolio begins to take shape.

And now to address the third and final major challenge to becoming a world-class luxury brand: The buying experience. As your grandfather moved through the ranks at his job, the guy who sold him his first Ford also sold him his first Mercury and then his first Lincoln. And until recently, this was status quo. Now, Ford and Lincoln showrooms have specific employees with specialized training, a step in the right direction. But we need to go one step further and completely decouple the two brands. Separate showrooms, service centers, customer support call centers, and any other touch-points potentially shared between the two families must be different, must feel different, which is imperative for success in brand-conscious China and developing Asia – markets we must find success in to remain competitive on a global scale.

And that’s it! Generate excitement; build to the consumer; and Honor Thy Father but move out of his house. Think you can handle it? We’ll be right here if you’ve got any questions.

The Bouncer King

INT.  BOUNCER KING BACK OFFICE - EVENING

A slightly disheveled young man sits at a DESK in a small and cluttered BACK OFFICE. He mindlessly clicks around on an ancient DESKTOP COMPUTER. The PHONE on his desk rings. He quickly grabs the handset and rests it between his ear and shoulder without taking his eyes off the computer screen.

OFFICE EMPLOYEE

Bouncer King, this is Brian

INT.  BIKER BAR - SAME TIME

A bar manager stands behind a busy COUNTER in a dark and crowded BAR with the house PHONE pressed tightly to one ear, his finger stuck firmly in the other. There is a ROCK BAND beginning to warm up on STAGE, and a few dozen intimidating men with LONG BEARDS, SUNGLASSES, and BIKER GEAR are milling around between the bar and stage.

BAR MANAGER

Hey, yeah, hey, I need to get a couple bouncers down to Paddy’s on 4^th for an event tonight.

INT.  BOUNCER KING BACK OFFICE - SAME TIME

The office employee grabs a PEN and PAD, still keeping his eyes glued to his computer.

OFFICE EMPLOYEE

                                     OK, great, have you used our services before?

INT.  BIKER BAR - SAME TIME

The manager almost has to shout over the din of the band warming up. Stage hands in BLACK T-SHIRTS run cables past him as he tries, unsuccessfully, to get out of the way.

INTERCUT – PHONE CONVERSATION

BAR MANAGER

Nope, it’s just that neither of our bouncers are working tonight.

OFFICE EMPLOYEE

                                    Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I can just send a tech over, if you want.

BAR MANAGER

(Sidelong glance at the stage hands) No, we’re good there. We just need a couple bouncers. One for each entrance, I think.

OFFICE EMPLOYEE

The employee has turned his attention from his screen to his pad of paper. His brow is furrowed, and one hand props up his forehead as he tries to wrap his mind around the situation.

OK. And you said Paddy’s over on 4^th? Like Paddy’s the bar? What kind of event are you talking about?

BAR MANAGER

(Becoming slightly annoyed) It’s just a music event. Will that be a problem?

OFFICE EMPLOYEE

No…No I don’t think so. But you’ll need to use our "Tuff Bouncers", which are an extra $150 each for the night.

BAR MANAGER

A BOTTLE flies past his face and smashes on the wall behind him.

                                    OK, fine, whatever. I need them quick. How long will they take to get here?

OFFICE EMPLOYEE

                                    (Still has a confused look on his face) I can have them there and working in an hour.

BAR MANAGER

                                     Brilliant. See you guys soon.

EXT.  BIKER BAR - TWILIGHT

Thumping rock music can be heard in the background. A line of bikers has formed outside the bar, but it appears to have started inside, rather than out. Stoic faces and dark sunglasses mask emotion of any kind. The line leads up to one of two over-sized BOUNCY CASTLES, each have two bikers bouncing vigorously around inside, entirely emotionless, still with sunglasses on.

Adventures (?) in Unemployment: Day 2

Dollars and Sentiments

Happy Monday. There is an older man across the street from this coffee shop who is digging aluminum cans out of a garbage dumpster. He wears a backpack and some gardening gloves. He fishes his wares from deep within the dumpster by putting a stick in the mouths of the cans, lifting his prizes out quickly and easily. They’re probably worth 5c a piece, and it looks like he’s found about 20 so far. Interestingly, there is a recycling bin next to the garbage dumpster which he largely ignores. While it may be worthwhile to point out that he is in fact working, while I am not, this is not why I bring him up. Rather, what caught my attention is how he wears his backpack: He’s going one-strap style, but instead of left strap over left shoulder (standard playground rules); he slings the left strap over his right shoulder, effectively turning the backpack into a messenger bag. Again, I mention this because I have worn a backpack nearly every day since I was about 3, and it has never once occurred to me to do that. What else have I been missing?

Dollars seem to have a polarization effect around certain aspects in a relationship; let me fumble through this explain: Imagine for a moment you are standing on a pier on a sunny day, looking for fish in a lake. Put on polarized sunglasses, and all of a sudden you can see right to the bottom and know exactly where all the fish are. The same seems to be true when including money in the equation of a relationship: formerly obfuscated elements suddenly become highlighted. Now to be clear, I’m not suggesting that adding money eliminates problems, or vice-versa, but to recognize early on a shift in focus of relationship elements brought about with a change in dollars would not be a bad thing.

I bring this up in part to acknowledge the unfailing support I’ve received from friends and family during this first phase of change. I’m getting married in a month, which is more than enough reason to become stressed by the dismantlement of the framework of my livelihood, but all y’all little fishies have kept me from even thinking I could drown. So thanks a lot.

Though if I’m honest, this experience has brought to into sharp relief the role of a (soon-to-be) husband as “provider”, and what it means to have lost functionality in that regard. Deep-rooted self doubts asking “what am I good for”, however quickly squelched by the lovely lady friend, bubble up now and again. To work, in the abstract, lends a sense of purpose to the station of an individual; the satisfaction of contribution as one half of a couple; and the strength found in membership of a team. Taken together, the opportunity to feel devastation at the loss of these components is, in my mind, justified.

Not in Nura’s though. Good lord not even for a moment. Trying to use “but I just got fired” as reason to eat extra cookies, or play games on the phone, or even sleep in on Sundays will get you slapped across the face. FYI.

Adventures (?) in Unemployment: Day 1

I was laid-off on Thursday. I’ve decided to write about the experience of being unintentionally unemployed for a few reasons: to ward off lethargy; to build routine; to stay sharp and think critically; and so I can look back next time and perhaps be better at being unemployed. Whatever that means.

I had a bad feeling about the cuts this time around for three main reasons;

• This was the first time the company seemed an exciting place to be
• I was finally doing something I liked and was pretty good at (if I do say so myself)
• Looking at my team objectively, I would have fired us. Evidently they felt the same way.

I think normally I would have felt self conscious about my performance (or lack thereof) that led to the separation. But I am proud of the work I was doing, and among those who also found themselves on the business end of a severance package were some of the more talented and charismatic folks I’ve been around at work. So I’m not taking it personally.

However, I am beginning to realize how closely connected I have allowed my identity to become to my job title. “I am a Program Manager” is no longer an applicable phrase. So what is left? Well, the need to decouple myself from my title, for starters.

The actual experience of being separated was pretty good, all things considered. The director who did the dirty work was appropriately – if not unnecessarily – macabre. I’m sure there were others in much tougher positions than my own, so his air of seriousness was mostly lost on me. Also, the lump-sum payout was nearly three times higher than I was expecting, which will lighten pretty much any mood.

I walked out of my meeting and back down to my desk feeling a slight sense of excitement at finding myself in a situation I’ve never faced before; being handed a puzzle with some weight that needs solving and a timeline to solve it in. I grabbed a few things from my desk I didn’t want to lose, wrote the obligatory “so long and thanks for all the fish” email to my coworkers (come to think of it, why the fuck didn’t I put that as the subject line?!), hugged a few folks who had gathered around my cube to say their goodbyes, and headed home. I had a soccer game at 8 pm, and no amount of firing was going to wreck a day that ends like that.

So that was day-of.

Day one, today, is Friday. I suspect that I would have been precisely as productive at work as I have been so far, had I retained employment. The biggest challenge I have right now is trying to understand what kind of progress I should expect to have made and by when. I don’t want to panic and go find just any job. But I also don’t want to hold out forever and pass up acceptable opportunities. How to strike that balance is something I’m looking for more clarity around.

They say you should switch companies every 5 – 7 years to expand breadth as well as depth of experience. Three months shy of six years into T-Mobile, I'm now I’m forced to do that. The other thing I’m forced to do is better define (or rather, begin to define) what it is that I want to do. This may be an opportunity to align work with personal interests and passions. This also may be an exercise in naïveté. We shall see.

Ram Trucks: A Brief History

In 1900 the brothers John and Horace Dodge established a machine shop in Detroit, supplying R.E. Olds with engines for his new motorcar; the Oldsmobile Runabout.

In 1903, using the profits from the Oldsmobile gig, the Dodges were able to partially bankroll Henry Ford’s fledgling company; $7,000 in parts and $3,000 in cash would be exchanged for 100 shares (or 1/10^th of the total) of the Ford Motor Company, as well as a contract to manufacture Ford’s Model A chassis, which included the engine, transmission, and axels.

That same year this guy named Maxwell (who, by the way, was co-developer of the Runabout along with R.E. Olds) co-founded the Maxwell-Briscoe Company of New York, which 10 years later became the Maxwell Motor Company of Detroit, making some pretty bitchin cars.

Also in 1913, the Brothers Dodge decided to build their own automobiles, rather than simply be a parts manufacturer for Ford. In July 1914 they broke ties with their only client and created the Dodge Brothers Motor Car Company. Their first car was completed a mere four months later.

The 10% stake in Ford, and the $5.4m in dividends they would receive backed their new company, much to the irritation of Ford, who in 1916 decided to stop paying stock dividends, partially in an attempt to quit financing his own competition. By July of 1919, after a lawsuit worth $1.9m, and a stock offload worth $25m, the Dodge’s original investment of $10k had paid out more than $32 million in just over 16 years.

Six months later however, in January 1920, both brothers contracted the H1N1 virus (this time called Spanish Flu). John passed away almost immediately, Horace died from grief and pneumonia within the year.

Anyhow, a year later in 1921 and on the other side of town, a guy named Chrysler joined Maxwell Motors and bought a controlling stake in the company that same year. Chrysler dropped the Maxwell name in 1925 and replaced it with his own. Also in 1925, Dodge Brothers was sold to an investment firm, and in 1928 was purchased by Chrysler.

Dodge became a successful subsidiary of Chrysler and things were going pretty well until the 1973 Oil Crisis. Here are a few words that describe what happened next:

1.     Iacocca

2.     Government Bailout #1

3.     K-Car

4.     Minivan

5.     ???

6.     Profit

7.     Daimler Chrysler

8.     Cerberus

9.     Government Bailout #2

10. The Italians

Which brings us to today. Ish.

In 2009, Dodge, under Italian CEO Marchionne’s guide, split apart the truck and car business for branding and marketing purposes. Ram Trucks was born as a focused truck marque leaving Dodge to only sell cars.

I told you that story so that I could tell you this one: