Notes from My Journal:
Wednesday and Friday evenings at my private Cigar Club in Delray Beach are always good but never the same. And that’s probably because the people that drop by for a chat have so many different interests and experiences.
The number of people that show up also varies considerably – from small gatherings of just five or six to pop-up parties of 40 or more. The size of the crowd depends on how many “We’re open this evening” emails I tell Gio to send out. Most of the time, the notice is restricted to my inner sanctum. Sometimes, when I’m feeling spunky, it goes out to a larger list. And sometimes, she sends out nothing at all because I’m on a deadline and planning to work late or I’m feeling like a solo sulk. (If I change my mind after she leaves, I can signal that we’re open with a little remote-control gadget I keep in my desk drawer that illuminates a string of little lights that run across the outside of the building.)
Last Friday was mostly an inner sanctum night, so I wasn’t expecting a big crowd.
The first to arrive was R. He had emailed me earlier in the week, telling me that he had started a business using Ready, Fire, Aim for ideas and inspiration, was going to be in town for a few days, and would like to stop in and say hello. My memory, as you know, is nothing to brag about, but I did remember having several conversations with him years earlier. I remembered him as smart and ambitious. And for some reason, I mistakenly remembered him as having red hair.
We spent the first 15 minutes reminiscing about the old days, but I didn’t get to ask him much about his business before the “regulars” began to appear. (I gleaned that R was in the general field of direct response marketing and that he had clients, as opposed to customers, but that was about it.)
P, a good friend and occasional business partner for 30+ years, was my next guest. It’s always good to have one or two of my older friends around at these get-togethers – not only so they can experience the fun, but because I’m interested to see how they interact with the younger people and hear what they think of my reactions and “takeaways.” Above all, I want to know if they thought the conversations were as good or as bad as I thought they were.
Next was H – a young man who was delivering pizzas six months ago when he decided to drive to South Florida to volunteer to work for R, whose ideas about optimizing artificial intelligence he found exciting. H just walked into R’s office, said he wanted to work for him, and said he’d be happy to do it for free. I met H several times after he began working for R, and I had high hopes for him. His advancement was even faster than I expected. He’s currently running one of R’s many income streams.
A pleasant surprise (something that has happened at least twice before with these smart, young people) was that H was accompanied by his mom and dad, who, according to H, wanted to meet me. They were both delightful and, to my chagrin, at least 10 years younger than I am. In introducing us, H told the story of how it was that knew who I was. Apparently, in his high school years, H’s father made him read books about business, wealth-building, and self-improvement. One of them – which H now swears was his favorite – was Ready, Fire, Aim.
Let’s see… Who else was there?
Oh! Z showed up! Z is a guy I’ve known for six or eight years. I don’t know how to describe his occupation. I guess I’d say he’s a well-regarded influencer in the world of plant-based medicine, particularly the kind that Dr. Timothy Leary was interested in. Z gives lectures to doctors and psychologists, produces documentaries on his field of work, and sometimes conducts “guided experiential tours” for his clients. From what I can tell by following him on social media, he’s lately become popular with some professional athletes and movie stars and such. But he’s not letting this go to his head. He still drops by the Cigar Club when he’s in South Florida to check in with me and hang out with us ordinary people.
Then B arrived. I’m sure I’ve talked to you about B before. Like Z, B’s work is multifaceted and cannot be explained with a title or in a single sentence. In his 30s, B made a fortune starting and then selling some sort of software company. Since then, he’s been consulting with and sometimes investing in software start-ups. He’s also an accomplished musician who has opened for A-level rock bands, a writer of screenplays, and a formidable opponent in debate.
A few more were present, but you get the picture. The conversations that took place were lively and diverse, covering topics ranging from classic movies, to legendary comics, to politics, to the war in Iran, to the average IQs of various ethnic groups. And it wasn’t long before we were exchanging news and views about – yes, I’m going to get into it again – artificial intelligence.
