Misc.

I learned something recently from Ron Finley, the Gangster Gardener. He said that if you have soil that’s been poisoned, by lead paint falling off of your house or some other happenstance, hope isn’t lost. To reclaim it, you can look right back at mother nature to one of her brightest and most recognizable children:

The sunflower.

The sunflower, it turns out, is a righteous fixer. If they had a nickname, you could call them “the cleaner.” They suck up toxins directly from the soil. Even in extreme circumstances, like at Chernobyl and Fukushima.

After the meltdown at Chernobyl, sunflowers were planted around ponds. At Fukushima, there’s been over 8 million sunflowers planted in the surrounding area since the 2011 disaster. Each day, little by little, a bit more radioactive material is pulled from the soil.

The radioisotopes in the soil mimic some of the nutrients that sunflowers take up normally, like potassium and calcium. As the plants grow they themselves become radioactive, and are harvested and replanted prior to sprouting seeds that could spread the radioactivity to birds and other animals.

Pretty amazing to think that in the aftermath of such incredible disasters, sunflowers are one of the best restoration options. Nature is wild.

via GIPHY

Kobe Bryant’s name is known around the world. He was an incredible father, an Oscar winner, an investor, an advocate, and yes, a basketball player.

To anyone who followed his career, there was one thing that separated Kobe from his peers: His work ethic. It was legendary. Tales were often told about him wrapping up a training session before anyone even arrived at practice. He took just two weeks off after winning a championship before heading back to the office. He had a drive like no other.

It’s what made him one of the greatest of all time.

The truth is, though, Kobe didn’t see the accomplishing of his goals as the dream. The dream, to Kobe, was the journey.

Here are his words on the subject during his retirement ceremony at the Staples Center, speaking to his family:

“If you do the work, you work hard enough, dreams come true. You know that, we all know that. But hopefully what you get from tonight is that those times when you get up early and you work hard; those times when you stay up late and you work hard; those times when you don’t feel like working – you’re too tired, you don’t want to push yourself, but you do it anyway…That is actually the dream. That’s the dream. It’s not the destination, it’s the journey. And if you guys can understand that what you’ll see happen is that, you won’t accomplish your dreams, your dreams won’t come true, something greater will.”

Kobe’s story isn’t about how to be a great basketball player. It’s about how to live a great life. It’s about pushing yourself for a cause that’s worthwhile, working hard, focusing, and giving everything you have. The journey is the dream. Here and now.

RIP Mamba.

I recently got back from a two-week vacation in Italy. In two cities, Bari and Florence, I reserved a rental car so that I could see the sights on my own terms, and on both occasions, I regretted making a reservation at all. I won’t name the company.

Budget. It was Budget.

This company, in my experience, could not care less about their customers. They’re in a field where there’s little competition, with four companies dominating the industry.

-Enterprise owns Alamo, National, and Enterprise

-Hertz owns Advantage and Hertz

-Avis owns my archenemy Budget and Avis

-Dollar Thrifty owns, you guessed it, Dollar and Thrifty

The check-in process took hours. The up-selling is relentless. The staff hates their jobs. The reservations are taken, but not held. Here’s a slice of what happened at the Budget in Bari.

We show up. To set the stage, Budget is the only car rental company in the area. There are 15 people yelling in the lobby of the store when we open the front door. When we get to the front desk we realize why. They’re out of cars despite taking reservations. They have no clue when they’re getting any. It could be days. It’s been 15 days as of today – still haven’t heard from them.

In an attempt to make me feel better, the staff member tells me it’s been like this for 10 days. This doesn’t, in fact, make me feel better. For some reason, no one has yet thought to inform people ahead of time that they’re out of cars. They just go through this insanity every day.

An hour goes by. At 1 PM, the manager tells everyone to leave as he and the other guy who runs the Budget go on break for two hours from 1 PM to 3 PM, as you do. The angry mob refuses to leave. The two guys turn off the lights and leave anyways.

And by the way, this has been going on since the 90s. We have the proof!

Businesses like this don’t stay in business. No one has yet dominated the Airbnb for rental cars market, but I have little doubt that someone will. I can’t wait for that.

A running list of the most historic business tweets. Some of these are inspiring, some embarrassing, but all are a part of Internet history. Check the dates on them.

Jack Dorsey (Twitter)

just setting up my twttr

— jack (@jack) March 21, 2006

Ryan Hoover (Product Hunt)

Just announced a new experiment: Product Hunt http://t.co/wM3F7rF0Xr

cc @choosenick, @jongold, @stef

— Ryan Hoover (@rrhoover) November 6, 2013

Travis Kalanick (Uber)

Looking 4 entrepreneurial product mgr/biz-dev killer 4 a location based service.. pre-launch, BIG equity, big peeps involved–ANY TIPS??

— travis kalanick (@travisk) January 6, 2010

Brian Acton (WhatsApp)

https://twitter.com/brianacton/status/3109544383

Elon Musk (Tesla, SpaceX)

Am considering taking Tesla private at $420. Funding secured.

— Elon Musk (@elonmusk) August 7, 2018

Warren Buffet (Berkshire Hathaway)

Warren is in the house.

— Warren Buffett (@WarrenBuffett) May 2, 2013

Ja Rule, (Fyre Festival)

I too was hustled, scammed, bamboozled, hood winked, lead astray!!!

— Ja Rule (@jarule) January 20, 2019

On July 15th, 1927, Jeanne Olive McRae was born. Her given name was Olive, but as she was quick to tell you, she sure as hell wasn’t going to be called Olive. She (not so) quietly swapped the names legally as quickly as she could. 

My grandmother was a sweet, caring, generous soul. But she wasn’t going to live her life on someone else’s terms. Jeanne Herriot, from the beginning, did things her way. I spent the better part of my childhood and adolescence with Gramma Jeanne – here are some of the lessons she taught me through her quiet brilliance. 

Show Up For Your Loved Ones

It didn’t matter what it was, how long it lasted, or whether she was interested in the subject matter – Gramma Jeanne was there for her loved ones. When my mother and father decided to have five boys, they took on a serious commitment, as you can imagine. While this commitment was theirs to bear the load of alone, my grandparents didn’t see it that way. Gramma Jeanne was at every football game, every dance recital, every school play, and every birthday party. What sets her apart though, is her willingness to show up on the regular days. The days when many grandparents choose to live their own lives and enjoy their twilight years for themselves. No one would’ve blamed her – after raising four children of her own, she’d earned it. But that wasn’t Gramma Jeanne.

My grandmother was at our home on multiple days every week throughout my childhood. Laughing with us. Caring for us. Tucking us in. Lightening the load on my parents. She never acted as though we were a burden or a responsibility that had been forced upon her. She acted as though we were her purpose. As though helping us succeed as a family was helping her succeed, too. She showed up at every opportunity with a smile on her face and (scotch mint, Werther’s Original, or sweet berry) candies in her pocket. 

That resonates with me and all of my siblings today. We understand that it’s not about being there for our loved ones when it’s convenient. It’s about being there always. It’s why in her passing, we’re able to lean on each other for support. It’s her final gift to us. 

Giving Builds Connections

Life is about the connections we build. Gramma Jeanne had a network of family and friends that extended well beyond the circle built by the average person. Her secret to building connections was simple: give.

She gave in every way possible (I’ve already detailed her propensity to show up above, but I’ll go further). She loved her church and gave herself and her pocket book to the community every Sunday without fail. She volunteered at my elementary school as a lunch monitor and quickly became more popular at school than any of the Kerby boys could have dreamed. And she gave countless back scratches, hugs, and little kisses all in an effort to soothe and comfort her grandchildren. No one has, or will ever make you feel safer than Gramma Jeanne did when she gave you her love. 

Gramma Jeanne also gave through her cooking. We were at her home nearly every Sunday for a ham and scalloped potatoes dinner. Saturdays were spent gobbling down tomato soup, bacon sandwiches, and toast with copious amounts of butter (never margarine – margarine was the only thing in the world she disliked more than her given name, Olive). She baked gingerbread cookies that her grandchildren will continue to make for their children, banana bread with a caramelized icing that would knock your socks off, and at her best you could even get a dish of homemade pirogies and cabbage rolls. A labor of love that never disappointed.

When we threw a 90th birthday celebration for Gramma Jeanne last summer, I was shocked to learn just how many people had been touched by her giving nature in the same way I had been. We heard many stories about how her home was always open to children around the community, and her cooking was always the main attraction. She gave her time, love, and food to anyone who needed it with no favor to ask for in return. It’s no surprise that she has so many people today that are proud to call her a friend. 

Laugh Whenever You Can 

My grandparents saw countless movies together. After almost every one, I have to admit, their reviews were not great. They were usually at least somewhat offended. Their faith often guided them on what could or couldn’t be funny, and profanity often didn’t fly. 

Given this, you might think she didn’t have a sense of humor. If you assumed that about Gramma Jeanne, she quickly proved you wrong. My grandmother always knew what made her laugh, and she believed a healthy dose of laughter was good for the soul. In particular, I have fond memories of watching her favorite TV show with her – Seinfeld. Or as she called it, “Jerry” (they were on a first name basis). She constantly would ask when “Jerry” was on, and whether or not I saw “Jerry” last night. His humor spoke to her, and I count it a great blessing that it speaks to me as well. I couldn’t be happier to know that my favorite season of comedic television ever, season nine of Seinfeld, was her favorite as well. It’s a comforting feeling to know that I can throw on that show at any time and still hear her laughing along with me. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Near the end, Gramma Jeanne had lost a lot of her memory. She spoke very quietly, and to the passerby, she may have seemed gone already. But when you spoke to her, as many of her loved ones, friends, and nurses can attest to, she always kept a sense of humor and a twinkle in her eye. She’d often tease, then rub her hand against your cheek as a sign of affection, as if to say, “just kidding”. A lot was taken from my gramma, but her sense of humor was never touched. She flirted with the young caretakers in her nursing home. She called the other residents “old farts”. She laughed whenever she could. 

It’s What You Leave Behind

We’re all busy trying to get ahead. Trying to make money, save for the future, keep up with the Joneses. In my Gramma Jeanne’s passing, she’s left one more life lesson that I’ll take with me forever. A lesson to help me remember what’s important. 

It’s not what you take when you leave the world behind you, it’s what you leave behind you when you go. 

Gramma Jeanne left some of the best people in the world behind her. She shaped them into the people they are today. Loving, giving, funny, gracious, resilient people. When I look at her mark on the world, it’s the people that were closest to her that stand out to me. She’s left behind a beautiful network of children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and friends that no one other than she could have orchestrated. She loved us all passionately, and if there’s one thing we can do to honor her memory, it’s this:

Live with as much love, compassion, and joy that she did. 

I hope heaven has herbal tea and Seinfeld reruns, Gramma. I love you with all my heart.