You're gonna need a bigger check

Oddly enough, my chum Rich (oh come on, you were thinking it) also has a post about sharks up on his blog today.

Must be something in the water.

If you haven't seen the ABC show Shark Tank, you're missing out on watching capitalism at work the way it was intended.

And by that I mean people with no money begging in front of people with a lot of money. It's extremely entertaining.

The premise couldn't be simpler: entrepreneurs present their business ideas to five "sharks" - multimillionaires who have made it big in their respective fields (real estate, infomercials, fashion, etc) and are looking to invest their own money in new enterprises.

For an ownership stake of course.

There are a few fascinating aspects to the proceedings. One is how smart the sharks are. Not that I think rich, accomplished business people aren't smart. But the speed at which they can evaluate an idea or product, see its weaknesses and strengths, and make a decision about it is breathtaking.

It runs completely counter to the image of slow moving, indecisive, multi-layered management. Not that I've ever had any experience with those kind of clients...er...companies.

Another thing is how good some of the ideas and products actually are. Some are so good, you can't help but wonder why they'd surrender sometimes up to 75% of their stake just to get the seed money.

But then there is something to be said for a straight line to the money, without banks, middle men, brokers and relatives wanting in for a price (although there's some of that because the money for the prototypes had to come from somewhere).

I think the show is at its best when there's a feeding frenzy: an idea so good all the sharks want a piece of it. Sitting back and watching them outbid and insult each other, throw more money and take less of an ownership stake in the idea they're fighting over is unbelievably entertaining.

As is the look on the faces of the entrepreneurs they're fighting over, as they suddenly realize they're sitting in the catbird seat with five millionaires clamoring to be in business with them.

The show is inspiring in a way that most shows aren't. It gets you thinking about possibilities. Even more so when they do a follow up piece about the success of something or someone they've invested in.

It'll be back on the air sometime this year. Dive in.

Eye eye eye

Say the title fast. Funny, yes?

So here's the thing - if I knew the kind of gruesome images I'd have to look at while I was trying to find one for this post, I probably would've picked another subject. I won't go into detail. Just do yourself a favor: don't Google "eye" images. And if you must, do it on an empty stomach.

One night almost a year ago I was driving home with the family from somewhere. Actually it wasn't the family from somewhere. It was my family. Sorry that wasn't clearer, but English was never my strong suit. Ironic really when you think about it.

What was I saying? Oh, right.

While I was driving, out of the corner of my left eye I kept seeing this bright, white flash shooting by. I immediately figured my kids had something in the back seat they were using to reflect the bright spot across my field of vision, and I asked them to stop. My son said they weren't doing anything. But the flash continued and I got angrier, because I figured they were just being kids and pushing it.

We pulled up in front of our house, with them still insisting they weren't doing it. I was pissed. I got out of the car, slammed the door, and stood for a minute in the night, ready to read them the riot act for flashing a light in my eyes while I was driving.

Then I noticed the bright white flash was still there when I moved my eye.

Oops.

I immediately apologized to my kids, held them close and told them how much I loved them. I did this because I thought seeing bright flashes no one else could see couldn't be a sign of anything good, and I figured then and there that I probably didn't have much time left to tell them those things.

If they gave gold medals for jumping to conclusions I'd have a drawer full of them.

We went inside, and I immediately called my eye doctor. He said that while not a good sign, it didn't necessarily mean it was serious. Then he asked me a couple questions: had I noticed an increase in "floaters" in my eye.

Now whenever I hear the word floaters, I think of the dozens of movies I've seen, new and old, where the grizzled, veteran detective refers to the bloated body they fish out of the ocean or a river as a "floater."

Which is stupid, because one of those wouldn't even fit in my eye.

I may be getting off track here.

Anyway, he also asked me how bright, how many and how frequent the flashing spots were. Then he said to come see him the next day.

The big concern was retinal detachment. When you have a sudden increase in floaters, which I did, and start seeing bright flashes of light - or sparking as it's called in the eye biz - those can be signs of it. After dilating my eyes, he had a look inside. Besides all the floaters floating, everything was fine with my retina.

I won't bore you with the details (I may be past that point already), but the reason was apparently one of the floaters stuck to the retina, and every time it started to pull away, it caused the bright flashes (alright, I will bore you with the details).

Once I found out it was harmless, I just got used to it. Now, even though it's still there, I don't even see it.

At least in my left eye.

When I got up to pee at 5 this morning (I swear some nights I feel like a walking Flomax commercial), I was seeing the bright flashing again. Except this time it was in my right eye.

I didn't panic as much this time. I figured I at least had time to record a message to leave for my kids. Kidding. Sort of.

After going through the same drill - calling, dilating, exam, nothing to worry about - I can now relax and enjoy what's left of the weekend, even though it's cloudy outside.

Those clouds are outside, right?

The finish line

I do it every year.

The resolution about losing weight.

And before the clock strikes midnight on New Year's, I also do something else every year.

I pack it away like Oprah in a cupcake factory.

I'm not proud. I'm not hungry either.

It's just that I know with the resolution made and the food deadline looming, I want to make sure and stuff my face while I still can.

Without the least bit of the restraint or will-power I've resolved to exhibit in the new year, the run up to midnight is filled with cramming down every last bit of sugar-filled, cholesterol-causing, artery-clogging, waist-growing, clothes-tightening, mirror-avoiding food I can possibly get my hands and mouth on.

I'm like a runaway train. Except my train is all dining cars.

I know what you're thinking - it can't possibly be that bad. The reason I know is because that's what I thought too. Right up until I got on the scale this morning.

Truth be told, it's not quite as dire and desperate as I've made it sound. And even if it were, it's a new year and I'm on it.

After all, I made a resolution. What could possibly go wrong?

11 is a lucky number

This won't come as a shock to anyone who knows me, but I'm not usually a cup-half-full kind of guy.

Yet as we approach 2011, I have a strange feeling about it. At first I thought it was gas. Turns out it's optimism.

I don't want to go into too much examination and analysis about it, because, you know, why kill the mood? Suffice it to say I think the coming year holds very good things for my family, my friends and myself.

So as all of us here at Rotation And Balance World Headquarters wrap up the first decade in the new millennium, I want to wish each and every one of you a Happy New Year.

Well, almost each and every one of you. You know who you are.

Nothing is something

I got nothing. And plenty of it. So here's the deal about this almost last-post-of-the-year post.

I wanted to publish one more before my New Year's Eve post (which I've already written). Problem is I don't have anything in particular I want to write about. Every time I hit this wall, an acquaintance of mine tells me to just open a new window, stare at the screen and eventually an idea will pop into my head.

I've been staring at this screen for a while now. You know what I got? I got nothing.

Then I started thinking - staring and waiting for something to write is pretty much what I do for a living. Sure, there's a strategy (such as it is) to start from. There's a subject in place. But when it comes time to actually sit down and write, there I am staring at the screen.

The difference is that when I'm being paid for it, there's always a deadline attached. And I don't get a choice. I have to come up with something. With this blog, there's no deadline. And there's definitely no money.

There's nothing but the challenge and fun of coming up with something.

In this case, that something is nothing.

Doodle Jump is so much like life

Rarely has 99¢ bought so much frustration.

Ever since I purchased Doodle Jump from the app store for my iPhone, not only have I become addicted to that little sucker jumping from rock to rock, I've also managed to squander a not insubstantial amount of time trying to get my high score past 17,326.

In meetings. In waiting rooms. In restaurants. Talking on the phone (when I'm not using free call-dropping from AT&T). I get close to that score, but have yet to tie or surpass it.

Occasionally the thought does cross my mind that maybe this maddening game is a metaphor for life. In particular, my life. I sure hope not. The fact that I only get to a certain level no matter what I do is embarrassing as well as disheartening. And the fact it's such a low score to start with is never going to have anyone accusing me of being an overachiever.

Then I think, well, okay you animated little bastard, let's take a look at how far I've gotten in my own life.

In so many ways, I'm in much better shape than a lot of my friends: financially, emotionally and psychologically (that should have them seriously concerned). I own lots of fun stuff, including my house. I have a wife and two kids who love me something fierce (love is blind, but still...). I make a lot of money doing a job that can occasionally be great fun, and isn't exactly breaking rocks. And even though I could lose a few pounds, overall I'm pretty healthy.

If I had to assign a point value to my life, I'd say it's a high score most people would have a tough time beating.

Eventually I hope to say the same about that freakin' little time waster.

Merry Christmas