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 Thu Apr 25, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
I am 49 and turn 50 in less than 2 monthsMy mind is racing this morning to come up with a few final reckless behaviors I can engage in over the next few weeks.While I can still blame the bad behavior on being a “youthful indiscretion.”
… I mean, there have got to be some things you can get away with at 49 that you just can’t get away with at 50.
Right ?
I want to find out what they are. And do them. While there is still time. While I am still young enough to get away with it.See More
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Apr 23, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
The other day I was interviewed about who I thought run in the 2015 Governor’s race. Here is an answer I fleshed out that didn’t get quoted but I re-read it and liked.
“As fun as it is to speculate about who will run for governor in 2015 and who will be the strongest candidates, it is more art than science and more about personal timing than politcal timing. At bottom, running for governor is an irrational decision. One morning you wake up and decide to run because you can’t not run. It is a leap of faith. One of the boldest leaps of faith a mortal can ever take who is also politically inclined. And especially in Kentucky. Where it is two parts political and one part horse race.
And the gambling metaphor is fitting. Running for governor is like walking up to a casino craps table and grabbing the dice. But before you throw the die, striping off all your clothes and crawling onto the table. And betting everything on yourself –physical, mental and emotional–on a single roll. Not because it is a wise or prudent thing to do. And not because you have nothing to lose or something to gain. It is deeper than that. There is something in the gubernatorial candidate’s DNA code that makes him or her feel they are betraying their genetic make-up if they don’t run. They run not because they worry of what others will say in their presence if they don’t run —but rather worry what they will whisper to themselves when no one else is around.
It is, in these candidate types, as if they were born with invisible wings. And like any animal blessed with wings, there will come a day when it is time to try to fly.
And that day, so to speak, is more about instinct and impulse that intellect and preparation. The day a gubernatorial candidate files to run for office is, in a very real sense, the day that particular political animal believes is the day he or she is finally ready to fly.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Apr 22, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
A seven foot basketball goal at a neighboring condo from the one we rented in Amelia Island, FL where I played basketball with my kids almost every spring break for nine years.
And probably will never see or play on again
The first few spring breaks the goal seemed big to my kids. And then about right. And then too small. And then too embarrassing to be seen playing on
For me, today, it seems too big —as I drive away for the last time
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Apr 19, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Creatures of habit and dorsal fins
I remember in 3rd grade learning that some fish used to have a dorsal fin but no longer does because over the centuries there was no longer a need for it and it just sort of evaporated with time.
We humans are comfortable with what we know and have to be dragged kicking and screaming to try a new way of doing things (in the workplace and at home), even when it is obvious to everyone but us it is a far superior to our current approach
And then we try it.
And eventually get comfortable with it and even become an advocate for the “new way.”
Until there is a newer and obviously superior way to do things.
And we have to be dragged kicking and screaming to change from the old new way we are now comfortable with to the newer new way,
Maybe the solution is to give up our notion of ever being on auto pilot. Of ever getting too accustomed or comfortable with any process. Maybe the comfort of habit is like a human dorsal fin that has outlived its purpose
But that’s an awfully uncomfortable thought.
Maybe we can at least make a fashion statement with our dorsal fin of mindless habit. Pierce or tattoo it –or hang our new high tech gadgets (iPhone or Wifi tablets) on our hook of a needless fin.
But don’t get rid of it completely.
I may not need or use it but I don’t want to give it up.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Apr 18, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Gangsta fantasies and crotchety, judgmental old men (me) advising.
Seeing several privileged white kids at a private school in Louisville trying to look “gansta” made me remember this video.
This is as about as tough, fellas, as you coul…d ever hope to look. (Please watch the video.) And you will never look or be as “street” as Vanilla Ice. And that should deter you.
It just ain’t happening.
Comb you hair. Pull up your pants. Tuck in your shirt. Do your homework. Because not doing your homework is about as “bad” as you are ever going to be.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Apr 17, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
What would you think if you were at a dinner party and discovered you were seated next to this woman?
I would get very nervous and try furtively to move the name cards so I could sit next to someone who looked more like Richard Branson–who would allow me to enjoy whatever is being served for dinner and be able to digest it without sweating bullets about which fork I am using and trying to think of the name “Endive” to describe my salad.
Manners are very important. No doubt about it. It’s the oil that lets us navigate human relations smoothly.
But as I tried to explain to my daughter this past weekend in one of my non sequitur fatherly talk tangents, “If you have to chose which type of person to be—it’s more desirable to be a pleasant and approachable person at a party rather than be the person who merely knows how to send out the perfect party invitation.” Or something like that.
In other words, I wouldn’t mind reading Ms Manner’s book. But wouldn’t want to have to sit and discuss it with her. It just seems like she is always looking for a comma splice in ever conversation. And to point out that something from lunch is still on the corner of your mouth. I would probably tell her (politely) she had bad breath and “something on her nose” (even though she didn’t), just to help me level the playing field with her and relax enough to get through learning, again, which fork goes where. So I can, again, feel like a “manners failure” when I inevitably forget the rules again.
Whoever invented forks should have made a rule we only need one kind. A simple single all-purpose fork. That would have made eating a lot less stressful. And one less thing to feel ashamed about not ever being able to remember.
Manners violation confession. While out of town last week and eating at Asian restaurant, I picked up the dipping sauce for the steamed dumplings and drank the last few drops. I made sure no one was looking and took the chance.
It was worth the risk!! Even if I had a little on the corner of my mouth 30 minutes later.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Apr 16, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Mr. Manners (My first advice column).
I think we need a Mr. Manners.
Miss Manners, in my opinion, talks too much and interrupts people in her mind before they can interject something. She doesn’t actually interrupt them, of course. But you can tell she wants to.
Which to me is disrespectful. Especially when you are already being lectured by someone about manners.
In fact, I think lecturing people about manners is rude. But that’s a different subject altogether.
Which leads to today’s question.
“Is it possible to be too polite sometimes?”
Yes! It is. A good example of this is Jimi Hendrix and the song “Purple Haze.” Jimi, of course, was a very well-behaved young man who liked to play the guitar and even wrote some songs. In one song, Purple Haze, he opts for the more informal “Excuse me, while I kiss the sky” over the more formal “Pardon me, while I kiss the sky.”
Had Jimi gone with the latter approach (which was preferred at the time in Great Britain), it would have been a musical disaster.
So never use more formal etiquette when it would cause a musical disaster.
Jimi Hendrix was respectful without seeming disingenuously polite –and was still musically appropriate.
I think that’s the key.
That’s the end of today’s Mr. Manner’s column. Which may not make much sense but compared to Miss Manners, rocks.
And “rocks” is preferable to the more for formal “is preferable.”
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Apr 15, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
This is the story of KFC. Or at least a chapter in that story. Not the first chapter. But possibly the most exciting. Certainly one of the most pivotal chapters.
Told first hand from a gentleman I’m proud to call my father. And who at age 79 still hasn’t lost his ability to hold a crowd’s attention. Most especially when he recounts the fascinating tale of when preparation, opportunity, luck and timing all seemed to converge, somewhat fatefully and always fretfully, on a restless young lawyer from KY as he met a gifted and persnickety restauranteur named Colonel Harlan Sanders who was supposed to be a new legal client but something bigger seemed to be at play. That moment that passes quickly if not acted upon. An opportunity at a leap of faith that promises only to be a life changing event, good or bad, but nothing more specific than that.
He took it and found himself at the helm of an historic moment in the fast food industry and not knowing what he
was really to do day to day–and hoping and working diligently and creatively as he improvised what he imagined needed to be done so that one day, when he stepped down and enough time had passed, people might look back and say “That guy seemed to have done a lot of things right at a critical time even though there wasn’t a playbook or owner’s manual around to guide anyone through this transformational moment in the food industry.”
The story is a triumph of courage over fear; creativity over predictability; and mostly instinct over expertise.
And the lessons one draws are mostly personal and range from from the “So that’s how it’s done! I could have never done that!” to “So, that’s how it’s done? My goodness, I can do it if that guy did!” Here’s to the latter response. Which was my father’s back in the early 1960s when his “moment’ presented itself and was wearing a goatee and a white suit and black string tie.
I know it’s true. I hope to one day be a better example of what the author prescribes…
I hope the same for all who can relate too well to the problem described.
As the ancient Greeks taught us any virtue taken to an extreme becomes a vice.
For those of us over-connected, what was supposed to be a tool to free us up has instead enslaved us to a degree we struggle to honestly admit –and we have been knowing accomplices.
Right ?
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