Some of my passions: nature, technology, education, healthcare, science, entrepreneurship, design, music, literature, gaming, food.
It’s been a week since I shunned the dreaded double triangle of Skipdom in favor of giving each and every piece of music its due. All music was written by someone to by listened to, right? And in this age of instant gratification and finely tuned music-on-demand, I thought that this experiment would be a breath of fresh air. A week free of constantly seeking out the perfect soundtrack to my life, tapping and double tapping my way through songs whose first notes I’ve come to loathe, that trigger an instant reflex to cast them off.
So how did my week without skipping a single piece go? Mixed results, I’d say. Of course, I had hoped to undergo some kind of aural cleansing, a catharsis of the ear in which music wouldn’t come into being on a headphone only to be ripped violently from the eardrums when my brain decided it wasn’t something I wanted to hear. What actually transpired was as much an assault on the senses as a reminder of and introduction to music I too often dismiss.
The easy part was my walk to work, sheltered safely in the 1,200 songs on my phone. Handpicked from my library, they represent in some way the music I most often want to hear, or at least wanted to hear when I added them. Some of the dustier pieces on there have been hitching a ride for far too long, never getting a listen but never getting the boot, either. It’s a form of musical hoarding, I’d say. You never know! You never know when that Yael Naim song will be just what I need. In the old listening regime, these songs were passed as quickly as they started and I never looked back. The new, fairer listener, however, gave each cutesy Hebrew lyric its just deserves.
In some ways this practice made things more peaceful. It was a kind of learned helplessness, that anything that came on was going to see daylight until it was done. It let me pay more attention to hearing rather than the act of listening, always modulating sound and track. Thoughts would drift as songs that weren’t my favorite but were palatable came and went. It was kind of soothing.
And there were the moments when I would be reminded of something beautiful and fun that I had not heard in months, maybe years. A perpetually neglected piece would get to shine for four, ten, twenty minutes. I was reminded how fun the Beatles can be, how funky the Books are.
But there were dark moments, too. Music has always been a situational medium, meant to enhance and complement a moment, to elicit an emotion in context. But throughout this experiment there were times when the music and its timing were incongruous, and this was unsettling (and not in the way that it’s sometimes kind of fun to mute a TV show but blast uncharacteristic music over it). I remembered how beautiful Dvorak’s violin concerto is in the second movement, but it didn’t exactly jive with the gym scene. The Nutcracker is fun and lively, but a little odd when the trees are budding and the flowers starting to bloom. And the Strokes? Well, the Strokes aren’t really good any time, but my Pandora insists that I love them and adds them to every playlist from the Black Keys to Bon Iver.
It’s unfortunate that there’s no single takeaway from the last week, and I fear that makes for a horribly disappointing conclusion. I wasn’t converted into a believer that music appreciation is always the best practice, nor should I hesitate to slam the door in the face of work that doesn’t belong right there right now. Music is too impactful on our experience to let the wrong thing in at the wrong time, but it’s equally important in times of pure listening to let an oft forgotten piece wash over you, and you may find yourself surprised.
I’ve been in the doldrums of music discovery lately. Nothing on the horizon, no where to turn for that new sound. But rather than slipping into an auditory depression or hanging out in the wrong part of town to find that new cheap thrill song, I’m going to turn to what I’ve already got. For the next week, I vow to not skip a single song or piece that comes my way from my existing music. In a day when switching tracks and entire genres is as easy as a double-press to the shuffle gods on a pair of white earbuds, I’m deciding to honor each piece of music. Songs I used to push past after the first beat will get full attention.
Will I be driven mad sitting through that oddly-worded Death Cab song “Some Boys,” or will I rediscover a love for—what a minute, is that the soundtrack of The Sims on here? Stay tuned to find out.
The New York startup scene has been big for a while and consistently getting bigger. With government-sponsored love for Made in NY, a collection of New York-based startups, many eyes have turned to the little companies coming out of the big city. But, for most, the nexus of scrappy tech ventures has and will continue to be San Francisco. I think that San Franciscans are more welcoming to new ideas than preemptively jaded New Yorkers.
Being a NY startup in the gaming industry, though, makes for a bit of a double whammy. While it’s unfair to say all of gaming is in SF, there’s a good amount of it. And nowhere is that played out more in the Game Developers Conference’s (GDC) choice for homebase: San Francisco’s Moscone Center. It makes us feel a little lonely in New York, but it gives me a pleasant reason to head west.
Having my first trip to SF and my first GDC in one fell swoop made for quite a time. GDC itself is a nerdtastic week-long extravaganza. Throngs of young game developers with wispy goatees run like mice amongst a maze of buildings, from talk to talk so they can learn about the latest in gaming. Since I’m not a developer, my time is spent dodging these endless streams of pale, 20-something men, trying to get to meetings in various locations surrounding Moscone. The meetings are a bit like blind speed dating. You show up at a predetermined time at a coffee shop, hotel lobby, or the like. You spend some time looking for a dude in a shirt, peering awkwardly at everyone’s torso for the low-hanging ID badge, hoping to find your match. You find each other, and launch into a set of questions that each of you has heard seven times in identical meetings earlier that day. “So, how’s the show going for you?” “Nice place for a conference, right? I mean, the weather!”
Twenty to forty minutes later you shake hands, promise to be in touch next week, and scurry off, probably in the same direction, to your next meeting at another coffee shop a few minutes away with another dude in a shirt. These conferences are essentially summer camp. Everyone away from home, seeing old friends, making new friends, promising to be pen pals when you get back. The proof is in the pudding, once you get home. But so far, so good. Great, actually.
Each night, there’s a gaggle of parties to pick from. Massive, company-sponsored raves. Intimate, 40-person dinners. The sophisticated penthouse soirees. There’s no shortage of evening options, depending on who your connections are. What most of the party-parties have in common is a sense of “this isn’t right.” It seems unfair to generalize too much, but throw a bunch of video game execs and indoorsy programmers into a two-story house-music club with scantily clad women dancing behind glass and there’s bound to be awkwardness. That isn’t to say some people might not have a good time but, as is forever documented in Forbes with a curmudgeonly quote, I didn’t, and nor do many others. The big parties are too big, too loud, and too weird to appropriately appeal to this crew.
But as wonderful as the conference otherwise was, it was the rest of my time in San Francisco that really welcomed me to the area. Confined to a small radius around Moscone, I hadn’t seen any of the “real” city. None of the hills with old row houses channeling Mrs Doubtfire, views of the bay and islands. But once I was released into the city and surrounding areas, it was even better than I expected.
I rented a fun little car, pointed myself north, and started driving. Muir woods, the beach, twisting coastal roads through green hills and rocky cliffs. Marin County is beautiful and horribly close to SF. In New York, 30 minutes outside of Manhattan puts you in, at best, industrial New Jersey, dense Westchester, or whatever Long Island has going on. Thirty minutes outside downtown San Francisco, though, is redwoods, small beach communities, and ranch land. I was flabbergasted by how accessible all this beauty is, and I spent the day exploring everything that I could, from fish tacos on Tomales Bay to beach side hikes.
The rest of the weekend was spent allowing some east coast expat friends and a cousin to take me around the city. Neat neighborhoods with consistently great food, giant parks with beaches, ponds, lawns, and for some reason, buffalo. Parades and flamboyant Easter bonnet contests. Japanese gardens, random Worlds Fair palaces. It’s a fun city with a fun population, always ready for something pleasant and festive.
The trip was an important pilgrimage to the epicenter of games and a coast that has a more emphatic devotion to technology. But even with that, it was refreshing to see how connected to nature and extracurricular activities the city and its inhabitants are. They’ve got a good balance out there, one that New York could learn from.
I recently returned from Hamburg, Germany, where I went to a conference on digital games. It was my first real trip for work unless you count the time I drove to CT to draw blood at a clinic for Lyme disease. I don’t.
I’ve been fortunate to travel to many great places around this country and the world, so the idea of travel itself was nothing new to me. But the concept of working while abroad was unsettling. To land, slap yourself out of jet lag, and have back to back meetings from morning until night, and then parties from night until morning. I know many people who do it rather regularly, and something that abusive on your sense of time and place sounds horrible. I was lucky, then, that the team at SuperData isn’t insane.
For a traveler like me, who meticulously plans out most of his itinerary, the thought of handing over the decision process to someone else was also odd. Other than general details, I didn’t know much about the arrangements until I really sat down a day or two before to look. I’m the kind of guy who heads to the airport having memorized the flight number weeks before. Maps are printed, important numbers are laid out. This time, though, it was both refreshing and nerve wracking to just pack and show up. But that’s what I did.
Of course Germany is a fantastically functional country, and used to travelers for business and pleasure. The flight and trip to the hotel were easy. It was then, oddly, that I felt kind of stuck. With nearly two thankfully-offered grace days, I had time to fill in a city I knew nothing about. I had planned nothing, knew little about where I was. Did you know Hamburg is way in the north? Other than the nagging hint of bitter cold, I didn’t. So I did what I normally do in foreign cities. Grabbed a map and started walking.
I pride myself on this travel tactic. I’m very comfortable traversing the compass anywhere. Between the woods of Connecticut, the streets of Manhattan, and whatever is going on in Florence, the places I’ve lived have equipped me with a great sense of direction and the knowledge that something awesome is likely just around the corner. And you won’t actually find it on the map.
In this way I see everything from the local fish market to churches, museums to little alleys with cafes. It’s endless exploration and I always stumble upon nearly all the major sightseeing anyway. In a city like Hamburg, whose main center is a few miles in radius, I feel like I’m familiar with most of the city very quickly. I could tell you how to get from A to B and oh! there’s a cool place to get a sandwich, just a few hours in.
My crisscrossing pilgrimages, though, do have the nasty habit of destroying my feet. By my calculation I put in a good 14 miles my first day in Hamburg. The second day I did at least 8. This would have been not horrible if I hadn’t then had 3 days of on-your-feet-all-day-in-nicer-shoes. Suddenly the work part of work travel kicked in. Compounded by a violent jet lag that rose up, cruelly, a day late, my bleary-eyed, limping shuffle around the conference probably inspired a Walking Dead: Deutschland Edition.
Still, for a reanimated corpse I must have been charming and intelligible enough, because the work part of the work travel went quite well. Maybe it was the language barrier. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a Eurotrip without some sort of union shenanigan, and my connecting flight to Frankfurt on my final day was botched by a strike. Had I been on personal travel, there would’ve been some minutes of mild panic while my cash-strapped mind wondered how far it would be to walk to Frankfurt. (Did you know Hamburg is way in the north?) Very far. But thanks to the home team and a midnight walk over to the train station (my need for planning wouldn’t let me wait until morning) I was equipped with a ticket on the high speed rail. A pleasant train ride later and I was in Frankfurt, sore-footed, exhausted, but happy to have a job well done behind me.
While I can’t speak directly to life at a tech-based startup—only what my sad, tired developer friends say—nor yet to the drudgery of starting my own business, I can say from working at a New York startup that life isn’t always as dismal as the hashtag says it should be.
A cursory search of Twitter makes it evident that life at a startup is stuffed to the gills with poor eating habits (I just wolfed down 3 red bulls and a can of cheese balls #startuplife), late nights and working weekends (4am on a sunday, workin hard! #startuplife), and drunken launch revelry (just vomited on my CEO! #startuplife). Yes, bravo, you’re all so scrappy. But there’s a lot missing from this depiction. Anyone with a workaday job can eat horribly, sleep poorly, and make jeopardizing workplace decisions.
What makes a startup special is how important each decision is, how quickly it can be made, and how great an impact every individual has on the course of the work. Not to mention the potential impact of the work itself. #startuplife, to me, is being able to potentially drastically change the way your company does business in a one-hour, two-person meeting. That made my Friday. It’s the team lunches where everyone gets to share what they’re doing over the weekend. The mid-afternoon tea and coffee and videogame research breaks. The ability to actually see change on a daily, hourly basis. There are some companies that only see change when the world forces them to do so.
So buck up, startuplifers. Push through the minor setbacks and unpleasantries, be scrappy but humbly so. When all is said and done, you woke up and did exactly what you wanted to do that day. Most wish they could say the same. Be thankful, #startuplife.
As an addendum to my earlier post about biking, this isn’t a bad way to get from A to B, either.
Ah, biking! A favorite childhood activity that I engage with too infrequently in my adult life, especially living in the city. But the city is actually, oddly, made for bikes. In the annual metro transit race, the biker has never failed to best the driver, subway rider, and runner from A to B, and I’m sure had a lot more fun in the process. What a way to go!
Thanks to a little folding bike that has taken up residence in my apartment, today I saw the city as I haven’t before. Walking it down to my neighborhood bike shop for some free air, I took to West Village streets on newly plump tires, the wind whipping through my hair. And freezing solid my hands, for which I had totally neglected to bring gloves. The old cobblestones proved more cumbersome on these small tires than I would have thought, but it wasn’t long until I was on Hudson River Park, cruising south with the water on my right and the sun on my face.
Downtown is wondrously flat, and my view of the river, the far New Jersey wasteland, and the looming financial district and Battery Park was as uninterrupted as my peddling. It made my realize how physically small this island is—about the size of my hometown, albiet with 1.5999 million extra people—and how easy, thrilling, and refreshing it can be to get from one place to another, and with no agenda in mind. Certainly a far cry from that 9th circle of hell, the subway. Biking really is the freest and most liberating way to get around this city. And now that I’ve had a taste, I’m sure to be doing it more.
Some time ago I mentioned that I was joining the super awesome company SuperData as head of sales and marketing. It’s been a couple months now and I can’t believe how busy I and we have been. Part of the fun of working at a small startup in the tech world is the speed with which things move. Is this working? No? Nix it. What sounds like the best next step? Do it today. I get to collaborate so closely with all of my coworkers and as a unit we influence and consult on each others’ activities and goals. Team lunches are pretty great, too.
The research world of psychiatry and psychology that I was in previously moves quickly, too. But only as a whole. There are new studies published daily, and some of them fundamentally change how we look at a given topic. But an individual study can take years. The realm of digital video games, however, is changing more rapidly than the industry can predict. So it’s exhilarating to not only fly with the speed of the market but preempt it a month, a year, 3 years down the line. We could tell you now where an entire segment of the industry will be. And you could tell me tomorrow the kind of data you’d like, and it can be done. Quickly. I wish the rest of science worked so wonderfully, but the mere constraints of what it studies make that impossible (as do constraints of funding and red tape that surround so much research).
It’s also rewarding to see the fruits of one’s labors materialize so quickly. As soon as the research team puts out a written report and numbers, I make it into an article. And as soon as that article gets written, it’s picked up by other publications: The New York Times, VentureBeat, Gamasutra. Sometimes it’s by accident that I stumble upon someone quoting our work! Now that’s cool.
And the breadth of work that I’ve have a hand in is terrific. Handling our sales, going to conferences, meeting with the titans of the industry. Social media marketing, blog writing every week. It keeps my mind churning and stimulated all day long, and I wake up wondering about and excited for what’s next. And as quickly as I wonder, I get to do it.
• Head of sales and marketing at SuperData, a market intelligence startup providing analytics and research on all aspects of the digital games industry with data that come directly from publishers and developers
• Editor in chief of active industry blog; SOE
• Brand development and management, social media marketing, traffic growth, liaison to press; overseeing website redesign
• Product development in conjunction with research team
• Advise on and manage projects for development of child, adolescent and family fMRI and behavioral phenotyping research protocols in a startup research lab
• Develop community-based healthcare educational programs and proposals
• Development of manuals and standardization of business and clinic processes
• Serve as liaison for clinical/research integration; coordination of cross-sites
• IRB correspondence and oversight; grant proposal preparation
• Development of infrastructure for neuroimaging studies and overall biobank initiatives including funding and software suite purchases
• Large-scale database management and analyses
• Substitute instructor across all subjects, including special education, for grades 5 through 8
• Familiar with educational technology (e.g. SMART Board and Black Board)
• Managed first large-scale, NIH-funded, placebo-controlled treatment study of hypochondriasis
• Supervised performance of IT team; revamped data management system and spearheaded quality assurance protocols
• Oversight of all day-to-day operations including: patient recruitment; diagnostic interviews and neuropsychological testing; administrative duties
• Managed social media outreach for recruitment through Facebook and blogging;
handled all print and digital advertising
• IRB correspondence and protocol writing
• Consulted on startup of other clinic and institute studies
• Top-ranked Mac Specialist in sales.