One makes you hit a deadline, one makes you miss a putt.

The urgency/terror of a deadline brings clarity and focus. Much of the world’s great art has been delivered under enormous time pressure (See: 6 Days to Air: The Making of South Park).

One kind of stress forces us to filter out the unnecessary and embrace decisive action.

The other kind of stress causes us to miss a 2-foot putt we’ve made 999 times in a row—when money wasn’t on the line.

This is some paint. On a road.

I know the green square of paint with a bicycle icon might tempt you into thinking this is a bike lane. But that’s where you’d be mistaken…

You see, it’s actually just a road, that cars drive really fast on. All the time. It’s a small nuance to be sure, but maybe if I simplify things, you’ll be able to understand.

A bike lane does not:

• Instill mortal terror into its user
• Guarantee that motorists will be constantly pissed off at you
• Push you into traffic when any idiot opens their door

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A bike lane does:

• Have a physical barrier between cyclists and any cars
• Mean that bikes have supreme right of way inside the lane
• Feel eerily peaceful, safe and calm

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Don't be fooled again!

According to the Digital Education Council, 86% of students now use AI in their studies, with 54% using it weekly. I can only assume this is because kids these days are too lazy to use AI daily. Kidding, kidding…

But it’s not their fault—professors are also increasingly using AI to evaluate student work, being careful not to spill Drambuie on student papers as they “grade” (also kidding, my dad was a public school teacher for 30+ years).

The problem is, students in the US are paying hundreds of thousands of dollars for the privilege of cheating more effectively than any other generation in history, with a tool that costs $20/month.

Us older folk shouldn’t judge: It’s like trying to teach my toddler not to eat too much ice cream when I bathe in a kiddie pool of rocky road every Sunday. Kids copy what we do not just what we say. And they’re smart enough to know that most adults these days aren’t exactly in libraries hitting the books.

But are colleges still worth it? I’d say they are, in the same way cruises are worth it: there’s inherent value in being around other like-minded human beings, socializing, and greatly increasing our chances of contracting a Norovirus.

Imagine going to study abroad in a country after seeing exactly one pamphlet of the city?

Imagine going to live somewhere knowing literally nothing about the language, the country, or the culture?

By all rights, a pretty dumb decision.

And yet, that tiny decision would change the next 20 years of my life.

The reason my wife is Dutch, the reason I wear orange, and the reason so many silly/wonderful memories happened in my life is from that one seemingly random choice.

All the good things in my life have come from taking a chance on the unknown (and often the absurd).

For many of us, selling ourselves is distasteful. We don’t like interrupting people, convincing them, or bothering them with our needs. We believe that great work will attract the right people at the right time.

And for some of us, this is true—like my favorite mix engineer (whose name you’ve never heard of) who’s been responsible for just about every #1 hit on the radio you can name for the last 25 years. He’s known for shunning the limelight, avoiding interviews, and doing everything from his home in Virginia Beach—as far from LA as possible. Serban Ghenea has pursued career in the entertainment industry that seems contrary to every one of his peers.

Or consider Rick Rubin, making great artists come to him, shoeless and embeardified in Malibu. Living the dream!

But unfortunately, most of us aren’t Serban Ghenea or Rick Rubin—the literal best in the world at what we do. For the rest of us, selling ourselves is in the category of something we may not enjoy but must do.

Still, there’s no denying that if the work is *truly* good enough, the audience will take care of itself.