THEN: Secretary of State (KY), 1996-2004; Candidate for Lieutenant Governor, 2007
NOW: JYB3 Group (Owner) -public affairs consulting firm; Miller Wells law firm (Of counsel)
Full Biography:link
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Jun 14, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Parental competition.
When a 19 year old son is traveling abroad and the two parents are trying to keep up with what’s happening based on short cryptic texts from said 19 year old son, the information exchanges can be interesting–and a little competitive.
Rebecca: “Have you heard from Johnny today?”
Me: “Yes, he sent me a text giving me an update of how he’s doing. Sounds like he’s having a …really good time.”
(Truth of the matter is I received only an abbreviated text saying, “Someone mentioned one of the company’s you represent.” That was all I got…but I didn’t what my wife to know that.
Naturally, I read more into the text than was really there. But the day before my wife had received not one but two texts from my son. According to her, he advised her of a number of updates about him personally and the itinerary.
But now I’m suspicious. Maybe she only got a short semi-coherent text and is trying to read much more into it to impress me…..
Next time Rebecca asks if I’ve heard from Johnny, I am telling her, “Yes, just a short text that he likes me more than you.”
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Jun 13, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Just because a middle-aged man looks at an ad in a magazine that discusses a supplement for low testosterone does not in ANY way suggest he thinks he might one day need to know about such a supplement for himself personally.
Not at all.
Lets be clear on this
A lot of men just read over advertisements because they are bored or curious and like learning about something new, or like the pictures in the ad, or maybe are just admiring of a well done magazine advertisement on a complicated subject.
A complicated subject for other men, that is. Obviously.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Jun 12, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Me and cars. What do you want to know?
Me (with friend asking sales clerk for directions) : Are you sure it’s on Hubbards and Shelbyville road ?
Sales Clerk: Yes, across from Mini Cooper Dealership
Me (to sales clerk). OK. Thanks
Friend to me: (smiling because he knows I know little about cars) Do you even know what a Mini Cooper is?
Me: Are you serious ? Of course I do.
Friend: What are they?
Me: They are cars. They are, obviously, a smaller version –a sort of miniature version –of the regular-sized Cooper…..
(Pause). Snickering .
Me: I know Austin Powers drives one. You probably didn’t know that, did you? You want to know any more about Mini Coopers or entire Cooper line—including Medium Coopers, Jumbo Coopers and the soon-to-be-released Teeny Tiny Micro Coopers (mostly in Europe, of course). Or are you gonna quit before I embarrass you with my deep knowledge of cars?
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Jun 10, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
What’s in a name? In the business world, more than we usually think….
Award for worst named new technology in the past decade?
“The Cloud” A remote point for storing massive amounts of sensitive data
Nothing says security like “I’m moving my data from the server in IT to a place where it will be more secure and accessible. Something called “a cloud”
It’s like calling a sturdy new product for storing dangerous liquids “The Sieve.”
I know that were naming the new technology based on its physical (or rather non-physical) characteristics.
But it’s important to remember when naming a new product or service–especially one that is supposed to change the world— to think not only of the “appearance” but also of the benefit it produces for future users.
And surely the name “The Cloud” has given pause to IT directors who might otherwise be eager to take the leap (worth billions for a truly superior product)but resist because they have to explain to their boss how “The Cloud” isn’t anything like a cloud but just the opposite.
Of course in naming some things, like boys and girls, neither appearance nor functionality are helpful. But even painful names like Helga and Norbert would have been better for remote data storage than “The Cloud.”
I would feel secure with all my sensitive data stored in “The Norbert” or “Helga”
Then again maybe the person who came up with the name “The Cloud” was named Norbert or Helga —and was just trying to get even. That might explain it.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Jun 7, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
If I could give high school freshmen one piece of advice to motivate them to work hard the next 4 years, it would be this.
“The primary importance of working hard and achieving a lot in high school is that high school, fairly or unfairly, is where we develop our core opinion of ourselves. If we do well, we have high self-esteem. If we do poorly, we worry we will have to spend the rest of our lives fooling our bosses.”
It’s a self-image thing primarily.
But there is also a very measurable financial component that can be measured.
Over the course of a lifetime your success over the next four years in high school will be worth about $300,000. In avoided therapy bills.
But at the end of all that therapy you’ll learn that the people who did well in high school that you envy, think they are faking it too and fooling their bosses. They just believe they are better at fooling others than you are. That’s the chief advantage in life. None of us feel we’re up to the task. Except that one family member we all have who is a certifiable narcissist. (Or four or more family members in certain families.)
And, if you don’t have a have a successful run in high school and become a therapist yourself, you’ll eventually get to treat those students from high school who achieved the most. They will want to meet discreetly and late at night and you can charge them a lot more than your other clients. And they can pay. So charge them. It will make you feel better and finally realize they really had nothing on you all these years and are a bigger mess than you are.
It’s awesome when that happens.
Which leads to the second thing I would tell 9th graders if I could.
The universe has a way of balancing out in the end. So don’t sweat it if you aren’t able to take advantage of my first piece of advice. Just be patient and keep a sense of humor. And have an office space you can meet wealthy but screwed up salutatorians after hours.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Jun 6, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Some people who claim to always go the “extra mile” –actually often only go a few extra yards. Or feet .
And just hope nobody notices and measures.
I have done that myself a few times. I find it helps to look like I am out of breath, so it will look like I really did go a full extra mile in working on a project
In the future, I think we ought to consider the practical advantages of changing the phrase “going the extra mile” to “going the extra kilometer”
Sure, chalk one up for the metic system but its also much more efficient and realistic . A kilometer is about 6/10th of a mile but is about as much extra a person can go on something without looking like a fool, or martyr.
Once you go a full mile over what is required, you are just trying to show off. But a kilometer is more believable and sends the message you really do try harder.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Jun 5, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Keep an open mind….don’t jump to conclusions.
If the first thing you think of when letting your mind wander on a Saturday morning while having your coffee is, “Jack Rabbit Slims,” it’s probably worth asking yourself “What did I have for dinner last night?” and making sure you don’t eat that again since it must have caused indigestion that led to disturbing images the next morning.
At least that’s what was my first thought in reaction to the first thing I thought of this morning, which was “Jack Rabbit Slims.”
But it turns out it isn’t such a bad thing after all. I wasn’t thinking of the famous Travolta-Thurman dance scene or the great dialogue scene. I thought of the tracking shot of Travolta-Thurman entering the restaurant and walking to there table.
And I found the video of clip and watched it twice. It turns out that watching (and thinking) about Jack Rabbit Slim the first thing on a Saturday morning while having coffee is a pretty cool way to start the day off after all.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Jun 4, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
My first and last Beiber rant.
I just watched a video clip of two people reacting to the reaction of several commentators who offered their opinions on the reactions of two other people to an event that I personally didn’t find important enough for anyone to form an opinion on in the first place.
And now I feel the need to add my two cents to the two people reacting to the several commentators… reaction to the two people who originally reacted to an event that doesn’t seem very important in the first place.
My commentary is this:
If an event isn’t that important–or involves the name Justin Bieber– it’s probably not worth the time to form a full opinion about it. And certainly not worth the time to form an opinion and publicly express it.
And if someone does do those two things, it’s not really worth the time for a commentator (or group of commentators) to comment about further because that will only lead to more people, or at least two, who will feel compelled to comment publicly about their disagreement with the commentators commentary about the original two people’s reaction to the unimportant event.
And then, dammit, I’ll feel compelled to get involved and suggest that maybe, at the end of the day, when it’s all said and done, whatever I think about Justin Bieber, I should just keep to myself. And maybe other people should do the same.
Let’s all just agree that Justin Beiber seems like a nice enough fella and sings well and has the same hair like of a lot of young people we know. And leave it at that.
It just saves everybody time and energy to talk about more important things.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Jun 4, 2013 at 8:15 AM ET
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My own dark night of the soul. Without a crisis manager to guide me.
At the age of 22, most of my friends had graduated college and were beginning to wear suits and ties and dress shoes and carry a sleek umbrella when it rained, as they went to work at enviable places like accounting and law firms and growing businesses and established organizations.
I was doing none of those things and felt ostracized and dismissed by my peers and friends and loved ones who had run out of patience with me. I was out of all of my “second chances.”
Hope from others had been displaced with sadness, concern and eventually disgust. Friends were calling my parents telling them I needed help and that they were worried for my safety. One of my old friends had just visited me while he was back in town and saw me in shambles, in a deliberately dark and dank apartment wearing only my dingy robe (ironically decorated with Roman Empire images), as I sat disheveled, unshaven and un-bathed amid a sea of empty vodka, bourbon and beer bottles.
I had squandered my last few jobs and dropped out of college for three consecutive semesters from three different colleges. When my friend asked me what I was going to do next, I joked in my own macabre way that “I was torn between starting my own business and committing suicide.” I laughed through my pain, but he had only a look of concern and sad confusion.
A few days after that, my father came to my apartment late on a rainy Sunday afternoon and knocked furiously on my door. He knew something was very wrong, but I kept the shades drawn, lights out and refused to answer.
Finally, the knocks became kicks at the base of the door. Followed by more knocks that eventually trailed off with a sense of defeat I had come to recognize from others trying to help me. It was my father, a man whose time was precious and I’d always wanted more of; and I finally opened the door and walked outside. The bottom of the door had scuffmarks from his shoes; and my father was in his car, and I got in the passenger side.
I said, “I’ve screwed up, Dad. I’ve really screwed up, and my life is a mess.” My voice cracked, and I looked down dejectedly as I began crying tears of desperation. My father was a man of action who had built Kentucky Fried Chicken, owned the Boston Celtics, and just finished serving a term as Kentucky’s Governor. He wasn’t accustomed to not having a quick answer to solve any problem that faced him. But he was bewildered, too. I remember him saying “we’ll get through it,” and that he would help find a way. He had heard of treatment centers for problems like mine, and maybe that’s what I needed to do. He said, “You are my flesh and blood, and the blood that runs through your veins runs through mine, too. We’ll figure this out. I love you and want to help however I can.”
But, again, there were no quick fixes for how to deal with my problem.
A few weeks after that, I moved back home with my mother, since I was not functional at either work or school and unable to care for myself with the kind of minimal self-care expected of some my age. I was a listless, beleaguered and bewildered soul. Mostly, ironically, confused. I had no idea what was really wrong with me or what next to do. I just knew something was terribly wrong, and I was out of solutions and out of any help from friends or family.
One of the last nights I was in my apartment (an apartment, by the way, that the exterminator who visited routinely once told me was the worst kept apartment of the 4,400 he serviced monthly), I was standing alone in my bedroom trying to come up with a new plan. I looked at the world map hanging above my bed and decided what I needed to do was move.
Again.
Read the rest of… John Y. Brown, III’s “Dark Night of the Soul”: AN EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT from The Recovering Politician’s Twelve Step Program to Survive Crisis
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Jun 3, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
It’s never too early—or too late—for vindication: The ABA.
The old American Basketball Association (ABA), with all its quirkiness. eccentric characters and hilarious stories, was also home to the greatest basketball players and basketball prowess on the planet during the league’s hey day in the mid 1970s.
The NBA nervously sneered at the league that played with a “beach ball.” But as the stuffy NBA tried to marginalize it’s competitor league struggling with ticket sales and fiscal viability, the inevitable was happening. A merger. The nimble, dynamic but financially strapped ABA would merge 4 of its teams into the vaunted NBA in 1976.
Many in the NBA privately believed none of the 4 teams would be around 4 years hence.
What was the result? The first year after the merger almost half the NBA’s leading scorers were former ABA players from the merger. As well as the player who led the league in assists and steals. Nearly half the All-Stars were from the much ridiculed ABA. Even in that year’s championship series between two traditional NBA teams, 5 of the 10 starters were former ABAers.
Most notably, however, was as the old NBA league adopted the playing style of the former upstart ABA league —shorter shot clocks, run-and-gun scorning, high-flying slam dunks a la Dr J, pressing defense, and the ABA signature 3 point shot—something remarkable happened. The NBA which seemed always to be playing in black and white, began playing basketball in technicolor. The league that looked like it learned the game of basketball from an Army training video, integrated the spirit and heart of the game of basketball that was so flamboyantly nurtured in the ABA. Thanks to what the NBA borrowed and learned from the ABA. TV revenue soared and professional basketball in the US became as beloved as pro baseball and football, perhaps ever more so. And pro basketball emulating this playing style exploded on to the international scene.
And how about those 4 teams that merged with the NBA 37 years ago but weren’t expected to make it into the 1980s? All four of them are now staple NBA franchises. And two of them, the San Antonio Spurs and Indiana Pacers, could be battling it out for the NBA championship this year!
And our hometown team in Kentucky, the Kentucky Colonels, was the ABA’s all-time winningest team.
Many of us, of course, wish the Colonels had stayed put. I certainly did and wish a better business case could have been made for the Colonels to merge with the NBA. We have debated for years and can continue to debate the merits of that decision, but one thing that is beyond debate anymore is that the American Basketball Association was truly as great as many of us secretly imagined.
And each passing year further vindicates that belief. Even 37 years later!
I’m pulling for the Spurs and the Pacers to have a brilliant NBA championship series, ABA -style!! The way great basketball was played back in the 70’s in our little bush league—the bush league that transformed how the rest of the world plays basketball.
37 years later I believe that vindication for the ABA can’t come too early or last too long. And the world of sports is better for it.
Naturally, I read more into the text than was really there. But the day before my wife had received not one but two texts from my son. According to her, he advised her of a number of updates about him personally and the itinerary.
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