If listening is an art, I’m no Michelangelo. More like Van Gogh... after the ear incident.
Shortly after I met my wife 13 years ago, my grandmother advised us to have kids right away. “Do you ever want to meet your grandchildren?” she said. I had already known Grandmom for 30 years at the time, so I didn’t see the rush.
Now that Simone and I finally have a son (Lex’s first birthday is in May), we both wish we had become parents years ago.
Grandmom was right. My advice: don’t wait, for anything. If you try something today, you might like it, and then you can do it again tomorrow.
My good friend and longtime accountant, Homer Koliba, always said, “Take the cash, pay the tax.” If there was profit on the table, his advice was to grab it. Period.
When I invested in a Logan Heights condo, there was a moment when I could have gotten my money back with a small return. I passed on the opportunity, and the economy evaporated three weeks later. When the project went bankrupt, I found a silver lining and went to Homer with the good news: I was going to get a tax write-off for my losses.
“That’s great, David,” he said. “That’s like getting syphilis and saying, ‘Hey, at least I got laid.’” Homer always had away with words. (R.I.P., buddy. You’d be proud - I take the cash now.)
Homer was right. My advice: go for broke, but recognize when to cash in your chips.
Everyone knows drinking and driving is stupid, and my friends always told me to hand over the keys. What they said made perfect sense - especially when I was counting backwards from 53 to 17, standing on one leg with my eyes closed by the side of the road a couple years back - but I never listened.
My friends were right. My advice: take a cab.
My father always told me, “This is not a dress rehearsal. Don’t live for tomorrow, life is happening now.” It was good advice he never heeded, as he was always looking for what was next and not what was right in front of his face. And then it was too late.
I can see it now - Dad was right. My advice: carpe diem... and buy lots of life insurance.
My friend William recently suggested I hire an editor-in-chief. Simone echoed the sentiment. It’s time to hand over the reins, they told me. Lex is growing, and it’s time to come home.
Hand over the reins? I may finally be ready to listen, but I’ll have to start with a short leash.
In the meantime, take my advice... I never could.
Editor-in-Chief (for now, anyway)