By John Y. Brown III, on Wed May 23, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Generational changes, concert-wise.
My first rock concert I was 14 and went to see the band Chicago with my mother and two younger sisters.
It was held at Freedom Hall. We didn’t pose for pictures beforehand. And I wasn’t sure why we even went.
I think my mom wanted to go because she Chicago was her favorite band at the time.
Fast forward 30+ years and my daughter, age 14, is attending her, like, third or fourth concert. At the new Yum Center.
Back when I went to my first concert mention of an “antebellum lady” conjured images of a Southern belle in a hoop dress.
Today talk of Lady Antebellum conjures a very different image. Still a Southern gal but without hoop dresses ….and who is more likely to give the vapors to others than get them herself.
And pictures are taken before the concert. And the 14 year olds don’t go because their parents make them go see the parents favorite group. I think all in all, that’s probably progress. Mostly.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue May 22, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Life “Superscores.”
With the SAT and ACT, no matter how often you take the tests, colleges only get your “Superscore” (the highest score obtained in each of the individual sections).
I’ve thought about this a lot lately.
Who am I to disagree with professional test writers at the College Board? They are much smarter than I am.
And so….I have decided to apply this Superscore philosophy to every area of my life–both going forward and recalculating old scores.
Suddenly, my life is looking a whole lot better in most every category. Ha!
And to think, the problem was I was simply scoring it wrong.
I can’t wait to explain to my beloved wife, Rebecca, later today that if we take my “high score” in every category over the past 20 years, I’m in, like, the 97th percentile among husbands (not just “satisfactory”).
She is going to be so excited!!! Can’t wait to see the expression on her face!
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon May 21, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
One isn’t the loneliest number that you’ve ever heard, after all. Sometimes it can mean a lot.
On my business page on Facebook which I recently updated…(click here for the page)…it’s off to a slow start and I don’t think there’s much more I can do with it.
Or even want to with it.
It’s one of those things I felt I needed to do because it looks bad if you don’t have one.
But it is depressing when I check it in the morning and it lists the number of “likes” and then always lists “People talking about this” And every morning it says the exact same number of people are talking it: “0.”
As in Zero. Or to translate verbally, nobody.
I understand and didn’t expect anyone to ever talk about it…but does Facebook really need to have than showing on the page? Can they make that optional?
Or better yet, is there a way I can add another “measurement” piece next to it that reads “Number of people thinking about this.” And have the number 1 next to that one.
I mean, heck, if I’m checking to make sure no one is talking about it, I should at least get credit for me “thinking” about the business. Right?
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri May 18, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
When I have dead time I sometimes bide time trying to figure out what acronyms stand for.
Today I decided to tackle MENSA, the high IQ society. After being unable to think of any series of words starting with M E N S and A that signified high intelligence, I finally conceded and looked it up.
It’s not even an acronym. It’s Latin for “table” or “round table.”
I figure Latin for “round table” for a group name must be something really smart and deliberately obscure. Or the founders of MENSA got really drunk the night they voted on a group name–and are too proud to admit it and change to a more fitting name.
I mean, come on folks! Do you really think only 2% of the population can qualify for a group about a furniture shape?
I have a better idea.
I am hereby creating an even more exclusive organization and calling it BAR MENSA.
That is English acronym and Latin for Bigger and Rounder MENSA (or “round table”).
We only accept applicants who believe they are in the top 1.9% of something—but that the right test to measure that ability hasn’t been devised yet. And people who have already actually qualified to be in the tip 2% of something by an actual test that already exists (MENSA members) are ineligible to join.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu May 17, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
The mathematics of dieting (or the value of a rationalizing mind)
Apparently–and this is important if you didn’t learn this in school–addition and subtraction; multiplication and division all can have nuanced exceptions apply to their normal functions when calculating caloric intake.
For example, let’s say you buy a pastry at Starbucks that you know has 400 calories.
For dieting purposes that is potentially 300 calories you will need to record for yourself if you eat the entire pastry (because you aren’t really exactly sure it’s 400 calories and it’s a smaller than usual looking pastry–and you are just trying to be honest with yourself).
However, if you only eat half the pasty, that only counts as about 100 calories (not the usual 150 or even 200 you might assume would apply using “regular non-dieting math.”
Why?
You look at the pastry and feel you ate the “smaller half.”
But, if you come back to the pastry and decide to eat 3/4ths of it (and not just 1/2), you must add another 10 calories (because the math has gotten so complicated and hard to remember that it’s OK to use shorthand at this point). So, you eat another 1/4 of the pastry and duly note the additional 10 calories. (The fact that it is 1/4th of the “bigger half” isn’t necessary to factor in at this point because you really forgot about this small fact anyway.)
And if you decide a few minutes later, “Screw it , I’m eating the whole thing” and pop the last tiny morsel in your mouth (or final 1/4 of the pastry), you will have to make yet another adjustment. Since you will recall that you just added 10 calories from eating an additional quarter of the pastry a few minutes earlier–and since you have to remain mathematically consistent— you must add another 10 calories for the final quarter of the pastry.
At this point, all you can remember is that you just added 10 calories for eating the final quarter (1/4) of the punier than usual pastry–and can’t recall what the old total calories calculation was to add to.
But that’s the beauty of math. You don’t have to remember. There’s a shortcut. If you know that one quarter (1/4th) of the pastry is 10 calories, you can be sure that the entire pastry (4/4ths) is exactly 4 times that number–or 40 calories.
So, write down 40 calories for eating that entire Starbucks pastry that was really 400 calories.
This is why so many people fail at their diets.
It not only takes willpower to succeed dieting. But you have to be really good at math, too.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed May 16, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Children’s books matter.
I love–LOVE–trying to take perceived problem and turning it into an unforeseen solution. Creating a new situation that is “better” than the condition before the problem.
I was wondering what my first exposure to this concept was and think I remember–at least in part.
A favorite book of mine as a very young boy involved a family of bears. The playful young boy bear was picking blackberries (so the story goes) and got blackberry juice stain on his plain-colored shirt. The mother bear–tempted to get angry and scold her son—had a better idea. She took blackberry juice and dyed the entire shirt a pretty blue-purple color. The “new” shirt was not only not stained– but better than before.
I can’t remember the name of the book…but I sure remember the story. I can’t imagine that I was over 5 years old when I read and re-read it.
And to this day when I’m surprised by a disappointment, I almost always quickly ask myself, can we make blackberry dye –figuratively speaking–to solve the problem
So, yes, children’s stories matter. That one either gave me an idea for a life philosophy or reinforced it. Or both.
But it started with a kids book about imaginary bears solving an ordinary problem. Differently and creatively. And successfully.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon May 14, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
My night as an outlaw.
Some people aren’t good at being bad….but the important thing is to not focus so much on the mischievous act itself as much as on how loved ones should react–proportionately and appropriately.
I’m convinced that one of life’s most difficult to learn lessons is this timeless truth.
30 years ago while a freshman at Transy, I had a friend with two tickets for us to go to the Rolling Stones concert at Rupp Arena.
I also secured two last minute tickets myself. My friend asked what should we do and I said, “Let me handle this. I know what I’m doing.”
Arriving at the concert I overheard a gentlemen with a buzz haircut and wearing an army flak jacket asking about needing tickets. I offered two and named the price, $75.
He said, “I’m going to have to take your tickets and write you up a citation for ‘scalping tickets’ which is against the law in KY.” And he flashed his badge.
“Uhhhhh” I said.
And added, “Uhhhhh”
And finally, “Uhhhh” again.
He took the concert tickets and my license and handed me a $52.50 citation and wished me well. My friend had bolted with my ticket and was enjoying the concert. I went to our car which was blocked in for the night. This was pre-cell phone days so I went to a phone booth and called my mother.
“Some friends heard on the radio you’d gotten arrested for scalping tickets. Is that true?” She asked.
“I was cited. Not arrested! And I’m stuck without my car until after the concert. And they took the concert tickets too!” I responded.
“Well, as my friends said, it’s kinda funny and not that big a deal.”
That was my mom.
As for my dad, a few weeks later we had a family dinner and during the prayer before dinner my dad jokingly thanked the Lord that I was safe and not in prison. But added he was personally disappointed I only asked $75 per ticket when I could have gotten much more.
And finally, after dinner, my grandfather Brown, the renowned criminal lawyer age 81, offered to represent me pro bono and suggested we plead “temporary insanity.”
I was so relieved….and had learned my lesson.
The whole awful episode ended for me with my family supporting and laughing off what was a dumb thing to do–but not much more than that. Just a dumb kid being a dumb kid. But not being a “bad kid.”
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri May 11, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
“Don’t be frontin'”
I heard this phrase a few days ago and looked it up and like what it means. Basically, don’t put on airs to impress or deceive people.
That’s an important message and one I echo and would like to share with others.
I try to keep up with hip new lingo…and even occasionally use it, if I can get away with it.
But it’s been three days now since I’ve been looking for an opening to use the phrase “Don’t be frontin'” and I haven’t found the right opportunity yet….and am starting to think there may never be a way for me to get away with using this phrase without people cracking up….as I crack up with them.
That’s unfortunate. In other words, that’s neither “fly” nor “dope.”
By the way, I’ve been looking for an even longer time to use the terms “fly” and “dope.”
And this post probably wasn’t ideal. Just doesn’t work. Oh well.
Sometimes it’s better to just be who you are than something your not. Otherwise, you’re just frontin’
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu May 10, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
I know some people swear by the value of “Product Replacement Plans.” (PRPs)
You know those 15-20% of the sale price insurance policies that if the product breaks shortly after you buy i you get it replaced easily?
I don’t care for them, personally.
They suggest to me either that somebody is layering in another layer profit margin (since products sold new are supposed to work) or are we are making products so poorly that customers need to buy insurance against the product breaking in the first few months. Neither seems an appealing conclusion.
Do other countries push PRPs like we in the US?
It seems more a sign of clever sales gimmickry, in my view. But subconsciously sends the message that “We don’t make things well.”
Imagine if McDonald’s tried to sell us a PRP at 20% of each meal to protect against food poisoning? And people bought it!
Or the next time I bought a watch paying an extra 15% for PRP against the watch not telling time?
I just left office supply shop and was asked about a PRP for a technology item. I asked, “Why? Is something wrong with it? Should I expect it to break in a few months?”
The salesperson laughed and so did I….but I was sort of serious, too.
Although I didn’t say anything more I wanted to add “If you don’t have more confidence than that in this product, I don’t want to buy it. Is there another product that works well enough that it doesn’t need insurance against breaking right away?”
Maybe I will add that the next time. Or tell them I’ll come back when they are selling products that won’t break so easily.
Generational changes, concert-wise.
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