I have more-or-less recovered and returned to an almost regular schedule. Not that we have a regular schedule in comparison to most people (e.g. we had a meeting last night with someone in Japan), but regular for us. Over the last week and a half, though, I have watched more movies and television than normal. One of those movies was Dune, fare outside my normal entertainment diet but a film I had planned to see for some time. This is a movie based on a book, a book I read and enjoyed.

I was underwhelmed by the movie. Sure, there were some tweaks to the story that ranged from unnecessary distractions to contemporary pandering, but I expected that. Everything just felt rushed. There was nothing wrong from a technical perspective. The editing was good, everything flowed, and the scenes were shot to provide an epic scale. Despite this technical proficiency, the characters and the story were flat. The book contains large chunks of inner monologue for each of the characters, monologue that reveals motivations, desires, and concerns. The movie contained none of that, to the point that if I hadn’t read the book I doubt I would have even been able to follow why certain characters took certain actions (or even who those characters were).

My overall impression was that in changing the medium, a masterwork was made into a good but forgettable piece. It is a common refrain that the book was better than the movie, but maybe this is more a product of the book coming first than any inherent superiority. I’m ruminating on how this concept might affect my business or my life more broadly, but writing out my thoughts is part of the process and one of the less-intended benefits of writing this newsletter every week.

For the Fourth of July, I took a bit of my own advice from last week’s newsletter. I opted to go somewhere I had not been before. There is a large state park (Umstead) located between Raleigh and the RDU airport. There are miles and miles of walking trails, a few lakes for boating and fishing, bike tracks, and there can even be horses on the multiuse paths. A few years ago, one of the large trees beside one of the multiuse trails fell parallel to the trail. A few local artists took the opportunity to carve into the tree with chainsaws. Over the span of nearly thirty feet of fallen tree, there are numerous animals depicted—herons, owls, foxes, squirrels, rabbits, etc. The carving has become something of a landmark and even gets its own signage at the nearby trail junctions. I have visited the park a few times previously for the hiking trails but had never ventured to see the carved log and decided Monday was the day.

The log is only about a mile from the parking lot, so I added in one of the other hikes too to get more value for my journey. This was also a hedge as I knew I enjoyed that particular hike and the log was something new. That attitude is akin to the concept of the zone of proximal development in my mind, but that may just be a mental crutch. In any event, I do often mix the familiar with the new to reduce the risk of being overwhelmed. It may not be that that is necessary for everyone, but it is a tactic that has worked well for me down the years.

It’s a good thing that I took the other hike. I won’t denigrate the artwork, but that is definitely not a site I will be taking guests when they come visit me. I’m glad I saw it since I’ve wondered about it for some time, but that wonder is now permanently sated. On the walk back, my face displayed a combination of a wry smile and a knowing head shake of resignation. So it goes.

Last Friday, I joined some friends for wine night. This is a regular event that they have been attending for months but was my first time. Although I did have a few glasses of malbec while in Argentina, no one would ever mistake me for a sommelier. I am trying to expand my horizons though and saw this as low-risk.

The event took place outside a bakery café currently undergoing renovations around a makeshift bar with tables and chairs filling a parking lot. They are installing a bar on the back patio as part of the renovations, but the place had a temporary feel that did little to create ambiance. My friends were sitting on barstools talking to the bartender when I arrived. It was clear that they were regulars from their conversation. They had just returned from a trip out west and so were regaling the bartender with some of their stories, and I just listened in also as I hadn’t seen them since they got back either.

I don’t know what wine I had. It was something light in color from Portugal and on the funky side, a bit like some sour beers. For me, the wine wasn’t the point. I wanted to have some conversation after a hectic week of dealing with lawyers on the other side of transactions. I didn’t even choose the wine I drank; I left that decision to my friend who knows me well and know wine much more than I do.

My friends knew everyone who was there and talked to most of them. This was their spot. Being there with them was a reminder of what I have missed thus far in Raleigh. I don’t have my spots yet, and that needs to change. Will change. I write that knowing I’m planning on a short trip away again after the holiday weekend, but summer is the time for this exploration and that will be my focus over the coming months. I encourage you to do the same wherever you are this summer—go out and explore and find your own local spots.

I attended a startup pitch event last week, the sort of event I have been attending on a regular basis for a few years now. Investors in the Southeast have always been more concerned with a path to profitability than their counterparts in Silicon Valley, but sustainable growth was even more of a focus at this event and there seemed outright disdain for the growth-at-all-costs mindset that dominates most venture capital (e.g. there are publicly-traded companies that grew with venture funding that still aren’t profitable). This event was more for practice for the founders than anything else and most of the companies speaking will never seek investment from venture funds, but that wasn’t the point—I was there to listen to the investors and get a sense of what they are thinking.

There has been some heavy consternation in the startup space during the last few months. Y Combinator published a memorandum to founders telling them to prepare for lean times that has become a lightning rod for both criticism and praise. The current economic state might best be summarized by a quote from Game of Thrones: Chaos is a ladder. Lots of companies will retract and recoil. Some might fail entirely. Yet there will be others that come through this crucible and become juggernauts. And for those of you reading this who don’t have your own businesses, a similar logic holds for people as well. There will still be opportunities, just maybe not the ones you thought would exist a few months ago.

During the final weekend I was in Buenos Aires, I went to a soccer match. It was the first game of the new season so there was an air of novelty, though Argentina is unusual as there are two seasons every year for its top division. I chose to attend a home match of Boca Juniors, one of the two biggest clubs in Argentine soccer along with River Plate. This match was not a superclasico between the two Argentine giants, but Boca is famous for having one of the most imposing stadium atmospheres anywhere in the world. The stadium is called La Bombonera, which translates to the chocolate box, so named for an older version of the stadium that looked like a box of chocolates and one of the great stadium names anywhere.

Attending a soccer match in Argentina is not as simple as just buying a ticket and showing up. For one thing, visiting fans aren’t allowed inside stadiums. Argentina is not the only country in Latin America with this policy that is a sad reminder of the violence that has sometimes broken out in the stands. There are also different classes of tickets. Most tickets are allocated to socios, a form of membership that is comparable to being a season ticket holder. There can be additional single tickets for purchase, but there is no guarantee that any will be available.

To eliminate the risk, I overpaid to ensure someone local would be with me attending the match. As it turned out, I’m not sure this was an overpay at all as there was an issue with the socio card I was given to enter the stadium. I still don’t know exactly what the problem was, but I was escorted by a team employee to another line where he explained the situation to a cashier and she placed a wristband with an embedded scannable code on my arm. It was stressful, but there was nothing I could do other than laugh at this misfortune. Eventually, though, everything got sorted and I was able to pass through the turnstiles.

There was still almost a half hour before kickoff, so I was still able to get the full pregame experience. My seat was along the sideline, about at the 25 yard line if it were a football field. Mind you, this is not where our tickets were, but I preferred to be a little higher up than the fourth row so I could see more of the pitch. The atmosphere inside built as more and more people crowded into the stands. When the crowd really got going in the minutes leading up to kickoff, both ends of the stadium were just noise and color of waiving banners and balloons. They were singing the same songs, but the timing was a little off between the two ends so the effect was a very strange and rapid echo. A few flares added some smoke to the atmosphere, and then we were ready for kickoff.

For large stretches, what was taking place on the field was almost an afterthought. Boca were dominant in possession, but the final killer pass was lacking for most of the half. Then someone finally found that perfect pass and it resulted in a simple tap-in goal. When Boca scored, the place shook. This was both exhilarating as it resulted from such an outpouring of joyful emotion and disconcerting as the structure is mostly concrete and steel. A second followed shortly thereafter and all signs pointed towards a blowout. Then out of nothing the visitors stole the ball in midfield and broke forward to score themselves. And the Boca fans responded by getting louder to back their team to respond, something I’ve always wanted to see but that never happens when the other team scores in our stadiums.

The second half was rather drab with the only real on-field action being a mistake from one of Boca’s central defenders and a great save to keep the score at 2-1. When the final whistle blew, I stood and slowly turned in circles to take in the receding scene around me. The wall of people and noise to my left only began to fade after the players left the pitch, but those in my section filed out in quick order. Exiting the stadium was much less chaotic than entering, and we walked backed to where the car was parked. I was then driven back across the city and dropped off at a subway station to proceed with the remainder of my time in Buenos Aires.

In order to traverse Buenos Aires as quickly as possible, I have taken many journeys by subway during my stay. It helps that each ride only costs about fifteen cents. During off-peak hours, vendors walk through the train cars selling things. They sell boxes of tissues, face masks, chewing gum, sewing kits, highlighters, or whatever else they have managed to procure (chewing gum is a consistent best-seller). There is an established protocol for how these vendors operate. The vendor places the item in the lap of everyone seated in a train car (you can opt out with a simple hand gesture no) then doubles back to collect the goods. Prices are listed on stickers on the items. If you don’t want to buy, the vendor will pick up the goods as he circles back. If you wish to make a purchase, you hand him money instead of the item. If you want a different flavor or color, he will make it happen. And then the vendor will move into the next train car and repeat the process. The whole operation takes about the same amount of time as traveling a single stop, but if you wish to purchase before exiting the train you can flag the vendor down and he will make his way over to you. And you can just leave the item on the seat if you aren’t buying but have reached your stop.

The rules for this commerce are not posted, but all of the locals know them. This has been a simple example of something that I don’t normally notice but that is heightened by being a visitor here. Everywhere as its own quirky customs, things that don’t make sense when first viewed by outsiders but that often have internal logic. In the case of these subway vendors, it is an efficient way to purchase things in transit even if there is a lottery to what is offered. Stepping out of my normal environment into another has allowed me to observe this, and that is one of the great benefits of travel.

Now that everyone who was with me has returned home, I can publish about last week. A group of six of us flew to Argentina for a high-volume dove shoot. I was something of a tagalong. The trip was purchased as a gift, only for COVID to delay it by a few years. There was a minimum number of hunters required to make the trip happen, so invitations were circulated back in Kentucky and Dad received one. He invited me along too to help fill out the numbers. I also brought to the group my ability to communicate in Spanish and my willingness to act as travel agent.

We stayed at a lodge outside Arroyito, a small city about an hour and a half east of Cordoba in country that is reminiscent of the Great Plains of the United States. Some parts of the lodge were almost comically built for Americans, especially the massive walk-in showers in the cabins, but overall the feel was modern estancia. While green roofs meant the complex lacked the grandeur of some of the old Spanish estates I have visited elsewhere on the continent, it was much nicer than I needed it to be for a shooting trip. The food was wonderful all week, with the lodge employing a chef just to cook for the guests (ten in total during our stay—we were joined by four others from East Texas). Since I was the only one who could converse with the kitchen staff, I also received preferential treatment in the form of customized orders and seconds and sometimes thirds of what I enjoyed. This being Argentina, that included steaks of various cuts and never less than two inches in thickness. Add in some chimichurri and not much more is needed for a great meal. You can even skip the chimichurri if you want.

For the shooting, each hunter is paired with a helper/gun boy, an ayudante in Spanish, and these were not boys but men who do this for a living. His job is to make your blind and reload your shotgun with a taped-up thumb to avoid blisters from loading hundreds of rounds. Mine was Mauricio. He was four months younger than me and spoke the best English of all of the ayudantes. He later told me that he picked me because I spoke the best Spanish, and we went back and forth all week switching between the two languages learning from each other. During the second half of the week, I shot together with Dad, which created the opportunity for three people to talk about him without him really being able to understand. Everyone was amused by much of that conversation.

There were morning and afternoon shoots to correspond with the flight of the doves. Sometimes we would stay in the field for lunch and sometimes we would return to the lodge. The drives were longer than anyone would have preferred, but the conversation was always entertaining in the way only conversation at hunt camp can be. In the evenings we would eat our massive dinners and then sit around talking or standing outside looking up at the Milky Way around a campfire. During part of looking upwards, I even saw some of the Starlink satellites moving as a line of lights. Let me tell you, that was a weird sight and one of the stranger things I’ve ever seen.

While the rest of the group returned to the United States after a return connection to Buenos Aires, I stayed in the Argentine capital and will be here for the next few weeks. This is an extension of the European experiment, though one that should be simpler as there is only one hour difference in time and I have a second monitor. It was jarring to be back in a bustling city after a week in the quiet countryside, but I have already shaken this off and started to find a rhythm.

Sunday was a strange day. It started with an overnight flight and maybe two hours of sleep, but I have been on a few long flights recently so that wasn’t the weird part. Nor was returning to a city I’d visited before. I’d been to each of the cities on our recent European jaunt at least once already. No, what made Sunday strange was trying to compress the best parts of what took me two weeks to explore before into a single day for the benefit of others. It was like trying to be the tour guide of all tour guides, yet my charges had so little by way of expectations that anything I showed them made them happy. Maybe there is a lesson to be learned there, but I’m not yet sure what it might be. In any event, the expectations can lengthen the joy of traveling as anticipation builds during the planning phase. I am not the only one in my group who has looked forward to this week for several years.

I have been accused of taking people on death marches before, and was yet again on Sunday, but this walking wasn’t bad. Besides, at the end of each leg of the journey was either food and drink or a change of clothes and a hot shower. I wanted my travel companions to get a feel, ideally a positive one, for a city I greatly enjoyed in my previous visit and hope to enjoy again soon. The best way I know to gain a feel for a place is to walk through it and eat its food, and this we did. I carefully selected the neighborhood just as I carefully chose the location of the hotel, and even during the early afternoon on Sunday there were inklings of the vibrancy that characterizes the place. I felt slightly insulted when they were surprised by how good lunch was, but I have come to expect that people will erroneously question my food choices.

We spent the afternoon on a whirlwind tour by private car. I directed the drivers from spot to spot. Once we arrived at a location, we exited the vehicles, we walked around the location, at least one of the members of our group took way too many pictures, I instructed the drivers where to go next, we got back into the vehicles, and off to the next destination we went. I tried to cram as much as possible into a half-day tour, a very American way of traveling but appropriate for the circumstances.

I was questioned even more about my choice in restaurant for dinner. As there was a nice brisk walk before we arrived from the hotel (chosen based largely on its location relative to that specific restaurant), the peanut gallery was in full voice by the time we arrived. Not even being greeted by champagne while we waited for our table was enough to silence the doubters. The meal did though, and I basked in the glorious silence that sets in during a feast when everyone is eating and no one wants to waste any precious time talking while all that food is just sitting there. That feeling and the satiation that came from the meal made for a very pleasant walk back to the hotel. Then we were off early the next morning, onto the next destination and the main event of the trip.

This week at work has been all about consolidation. We learned a number of lessons during our European sojourn that we are presently implementing. We continue to tighten our availability in order to improve our productivity, energy, and focus. We are making our intake process more standardized so that there is less slippage. We are building out improved documents as we learn best practices through doing more deals. We are consolidating relationships that we have made over the past few months that should prove fruitful for all involved. While we are taking a bit of a pause to incorporate what we learned into our working procedures, it isn’t much of a pause as we are moving towards what may be as many as seven or eight closings before the end of May. It is an exciting time for the business.

Over the weekend, I was also reminded of how important family and friends are. This is a different form of consolidation of some of the ideas I had while abroad but no less important. I was in Kentucky for a wedding-retirement-Derby party. On the drive, I picked up my brother and sister-in-law at the airport and was able to spend some time alone with them over dinner. On Saturday, a large number of people gathered at my parents’ home for the party and I was thrust back into the social life of a small town. This meant a great deal of talking about the business and of what has been recorded in these newsletters as many of my most faithful readers were in attendance.

It was decided that the most fun way to handle the horse race itself was to have a random drawing for horses in two pots. I did much the same once in college and hilarity ensued as everyone yelled at the television for two minutes, but this crowd was more educated about horse racing and more sedate. Well, most of the crowd was more educated about horse racing. I spent the race giving a running commentary to two of my young cousins who had never seen a horse race before. They were transfixed by everything going on around them during the race but I’m sure they will need further instruction. Everyone at the track was stunned by the result, so much so that you could almost hear the silence through the television, but somehow no one at the party was surprised when I won the loser pool. Yes, it may have been a random drawing, but I drew the horse that came in last place and so won the whole pool. Because of course that’s what happened.

The weekend was a marked contrast to much of the time I spent in Europe over the last month alone. This provides yet more fodder as I continue to think about how I want to live this phase of my life now that we have proven to ourselves that we can work from elsewhere.

When this post went out, I was aboard a plane flying back to the United States after almost four weeks in Europe. This was the first real test of whether we can truly work from anywhere in this legal practice, and it has been a qualified success. There are some additions that will be needed (i.e. getting a portable monitor like I mentioned last week), but our deals have kept progressing and our long-term clients have had their legal needs met. A few other observations follow.

This was my first time in Europe in the spring. The mornings and evenings have required jackets of varying thickness, but that is preferable to the rising humidity and temperatures in the high 80s to which I am returning. It has been an ideal time to be here. I have noted the temperature ranges and may take steps to increase the number of days during the year when I am in such climates.

Being in Europe and working west coast hours is not viable for me. The nine-hour time difference has not meshed with my early rising. This has not been helped by a lack of blackout curtains in my accommodations. I’m not sure what the answer will be to this problem, but further experimentation will be required to find a solution that doesn’t leave me dragging through half of the afternoons during the week.

Eating out at every meal has been both blessing and curse. It has given me a better feel for these cities, yes, but it has also been a frequent reminder that most of this trip has been spent alone and has meant that my diet has not been as regimented as I prefer. I will tweak these protocols when I take my next sojourn.

In order not to sacrifice on location for my Airbnb rentals, I opted for private rooms instead of having an entire place to myself in both Vienna and Berlin. Neither one worked as I had hoped. Instead of gaining a guide, I felt more like an intruder living a parallel life under the same roof in both apartments. Having a place to myself will also help with the food issue as I am more comfortable cooking somewhere that isn’t someone else’s kitchen who is sitting in the living room.

Being with other people created the potential for greater enjoyment. Some of the more enjoyable meals on this trip were in busy Parisian cafes with colleagues. And my weekend in Berlin had the most variation and spontaneity of any weekend so far this year as I leaned into the activities on offer as I reconnected with an old friend. This took me to a family birthday celebration, a Kreuzberg bar, some great doner kebab, and a meetup with a group of people I wish I could meet again. It wasn’t that the activities were only possible in Berlin (though there are few places that do doner kebab as well as here where the food was invented), it was that I was thrown into groups of people who accepted and even embraced my presence, the sort of thing I have never managed without some help even in the English-speaking world. It has left me wondering about possibilities. I don’t plan to take any action on these thoughts immediately, but it has left me wondering.