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3/26: The incumbents have been among the most profitable companies in the world and almost every sub-vertical within #fintech was in dire need of modernization. We believe this is still true which is why we’re comfortable with the pond we’ll be fishing in over the next decade.
1/26: It’s Hard to Produ...
@fintechjunkie on Twitter
Of all the people on god’s green earth that I had met or have yet to meet, there has never been anyone more important to me than Little Richard. There would be no rock and roll without Little Richard. And without rock and roll, there would be no me. We walked a few steps to the limousine parked on the curb beside us and the young man tapped the tinted window. It lowered just a few inches, and he leaned in, whispering quietly to the person behind the glass. Suddenly, the window began to roll down . . . and there he was, in all his glory! The hair, the smile, the eyeliner . . . and the voice that screamed, “Well, God bless you, David! It’s so nice to meet you!” I was at a complete and total loss for words. I stood there like a blathering idiot as he asked if I was a musician, the name of my band, where I was from, all while signing a postcard-sized black-and-white photo of himself, writing, To David, God cares. We shook hands, the window went up, and my life was complete. I cannot overstate the importance of these moments to me. I walk through this crazy life of a musician like a little boy in a museum, surrounded by the exhibits I’ve spent a lifetime studying. And when I finally come face-to-face with someone who has inspired me along the way, I am thankful. I am grateful. And I take none of it for granted. I am a firm believer in the shared humanity of music, something that I find more rewarding than any other aspect of what I do. When the one-dimensional image becomes a living, breathing, three-dimensional human being, it fills your soul with reassurance that even our most cherished heroes are flesh and bone. I believe that people are inspired by people. That is why I feel the need to connect with my fans when they approach me. I’m a fan too.
The Storyteller
Dave Grohl
Much of the time, he was closeted in his office, where he had oil prices chalked on a blackboard. He paced this spartan office, hands laced behind his back. Periodically, he emerged from his lair, mounted a high stool, and studied ledgers, scribbling calculations on pad and paper. (During meetings, he was a restless doodler and note taker.) Frequently, he stared out the window, motionless as an idol, gazing at the sky for fifteen minutes at a stretch. He once asked rhetorically, “Do not many of us who fail to achieve big things . . . fail because we lack concentration—the art of concentrating the mind on the thing to be done at the proper time and to the exclusion of everything else?”9
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