Mark Cuban Says Your Dad is Right

Mark Cuban answers a reader question on the Freakonomics blog.

Q. My father immi­grat­ed to the U.S. in the 1970s. He came with noth­ing and has done very well for him­self and his fam­i­ly. He feels that Amer­i­ca has lost its way, specif­i­cal­ly that Amer­i­cans don’t work as hard as they used to, don’t work as hard as peo­ple in emerg­ing coun­tries, and have a belief that they are enti­tled to things (such as mar­kets that always go up, that the gov­ern­ment should take care of them, that they don’t have to plan for retire­ment). I whole­heart­ed­ly dis­agree with my father. Whose side would you take? -Wes

A. He is right. But so was his father when he told your dad how much hard­er he worked.  Pro­duc­tiv­i­ty has increased gen­er­a­tion by gen­er­a­tion. Things change. Remem­ber, you never live in the world you were born into.

Sometimes I want to go live on a farm and chase chickens and eat their eggs and pick coffee beans from the branch outside my window and slap my river-washed clothes on a rock by a well while a cat purrs on the window ledge and the school kids run by rolling a spare bicycle tire with the tap of a garden twig.

Love is in your grocer’s meat aisle

Sajan and I strolled through Whole Foods today to find these delightful heart-shaped chunks of meat.

Facebook’s Timeline is the Scrapbook of My Life

If who I was wasn’t recorded somewhere I would forget who I was.

Sometimes I search my old gmail chats or hotmail/yahoo emails from years ago. Conversations reveal a carefree, engaging me. They reveal rich relationships.

Sometimes I forget how close I was to certain people.

I forget how amazing a time period was. I forget that I really did accomplish things.

When it’s all written down or pictured or laid out before me, I see it and remember again. The blur of my memory is comforted by the record of what really happened.

And that’s why I like the Facebook timeline.

Remembering who I was helps me realize what I can take with me as I build who I’m going to be.

Ommagio a Crostata di Mora

I’ve been on a baking binge since the age of 7. Unfortunately, my expertise does not live up to my years of experience. I make sloppy but delicious stuff. You can’t go wrong when sugar, butter and flour make a love child. My latest favorite is a version of blackberry pie. Please enjoy my ode to this palate-pleasing wonder.

Layla’s 1-Month Birthday Story

Saturday was Layla’s 1-month birthday.  Little did we know we would be celebrating in the hospital with our little one recovering from surgery.

On Friday morning I’d secured a last minute appointment with her pediatrician to look into her persistent vomiting after feedings. An ultrasound showed the culprit was pyloric stenosis. This meant the opening to her stomach was too small for food to stay down, which happens to a few out of every thousand babies. Immediate surgery was the only option, and it would fix the problem permanently. The doctor reassured us it would be a quick 20-minute procedure that babies bounce back from in a matter of hours.

We headed to Texas Children’s Hospital West Campus. Although we worried about our tiny baby undergoing this procedure, I felt good that we had access to the best doctors in the world. 

Layla did a great job through her pyloromyotomy, and we were out of the hospital in 24 hours and back home by 7 p.m. Saturday.

5 Things I Wanted to Be When I Grew Up

1. Scientist.

In kindergarten, we had to draw one of those “When I grow up” pictures about our future career aspirations. I had no idea what any of this meant. Thus, scientist was my pulled-out-of-the-air answer. I drew a person with a lab coat and a bubbling test tube.

2. Artist.

In first grade, we learned about Picasso and other painters. He became my new idol. I loved cubism and the blue period.

3. Motivational Speaker.

Around fourth grade, I started perusing self-help books around the house by authors like Dale Carnegie and Miles Munroe. I wanted to perpetuate the message of overcoming adversity and thriving.

4. Cereal Box Designer.

Doctor, lawyer, traditional careers. BORING. I wanted to create things, beautiful and functional things.

5. Writer.

By the time I was 11, I knew.

I believe who you are as a child — your dreams and desires — these never change. They make up the real you. But the pressures of adulthood can blur your true identity and make you forget what originally brought you joy. Tapping  into your childhood tastes will show what makes you tick.

Your turn: as a child, what did you enjoy or aspire to? What did you see yourself doing in the future?

Image Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/cstm-mstc/3109040806/sizes/m/in/photostream/

Hello, Layla!

Twenty days ago our new pride and joy entered the world. Many thanks to our friends and family for welcoming Layla so warmly! She has received so much love in her first few days.

Of course, the grandparents are beaming over their first grandchild.

Fine Friends & Food at Zelko Bistro

Dinner at Zelko Bistro on a Wednesday evening is the perfect way to perk up midweek. Better to go on a weekday than a crowded weekend.

35 Weeks.

There is a full grown baby in my insides.

I am baffled that such a thing is even possible.

But I’ll be reading a book or have my elbow on my stomach and all of a sudden the book or elbow is bobbing up and down. Because there’s a baby beneath wriggling all over the place.

Yesterday she had the hiccups. One time Sajan put his head on my stomach, and she kicked him in the face. Or maybe it was a friendly hello with her hand.

A Baby Shower

My favorite women in the world threw and attended a tea-themed baby shower for me.

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Shower images courtesy of Elizabeth Varughese.

Don’t flatter yourself. We’re all dysfunctional.

This blog has seen fewer posts the past year and a half — my life has been undergoing radical change and fears and blows and successes.

This morning I was trying to reflect and put it into words.

Mary DeMuth at Live Uncaged took the words out of my mouth:

God has been up to something new in my life over the past year. An unsettling. A shift in perspective. A new life. He is freeing me, moment by moment.

I’ve seen how each one of us is truly broken, haunted by the past and pretending to everyone else that things are OK. Because you think that’s what you’re supposed to do. It’s a huge deceit: our belief that no one else is experiencing the dysfunction or vulnerabilities that we are.

Here’s the promise I held onto that I’m seeing come to life:

Though you have made me see troubles,
many and bitter,
you will restore my life again;
from the depths of the earth
you will again bring me up. (Psalm 71:20)

Things I’ve learned:

• You have to be entrepreneurially minded to make it. A college degree and 9 to 5 are no longer the path to success.
• I create, therefore I am. You’re only as good as the last thing you’ve made/expressed/implemented.
• You’re never ready for the season you’re in. And that’s a beautiful thing. When the season’s over, the light bulb flashes over your head, and you’re a new person, equipped with even better tools to plow through the next season.
• If you’re not making mistakes, you’re probably not doing anything.
• Fear is the enemy.

I am very thankful for doors that have been opening and opportunities arising out of the blue.

Image Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hanx40d/3787549914/sizes/m/in/photostream/