I don’t have a 7 year horizon. Yet.

Also inspired by Valeria Maltoni’s Learning Habit newsletter. Check it out.

I love the thinking behind a seven year horizon. It’s less than an arbitrary decade, but longer term than most. Compromise, and yet not.

In June, I was let go from LeadMD. They’re a tribe of fierce robots hell-bent on delivering results to customers. LeadMD was founded in 2009.

I started GBXM in 2009.

My friend Adnan runs CarThrottle.com. He started that in 2009 as well. (Gave me the ground floor opportunity in 2010, too, but I passed because GBXM.) He now has millions of subscribers and offices in London and New York.

GBXM never went anywhere.

More and more, I think the lesson learned is compromise has its place, but not when it comes to delivering value.

In any case, I’m in the process of rebooting GBXM. Again.

I don’t have a seven year plan. I don’t even have a three year plan.

It’s just the thing I feel like I need to do right now.

Where will I be in seven years? When GBXM turns 15?

I don’t know, but there’s only one way to find out.


You lose if you talk about it.

I think that was Abraham Lincoln.

[ quick visit to Google ]

Nope. It was Hemingway. From the short story, “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber.”

“Doesn’t do to talk too much about all this. Talk the whole thing away. No pleasure in anything if you mouth it up too much.”

Not that I’ve actually read that, but I heard it somewhere along the way.

It suits me.

There’s apparently a neurological component to this one, too. Tell someone you’re going to do something wonderful, and you get a dopamine hit–as though you already did it.

Which I haven’t.

So I won’t.

Writing About Cars (Again)

I miss Gearbox Magazine.

I miss writing about cars. I miss getting to know next level gearheads and their projects. But I’m not about to relaunch GBXM again.

A few weeks ago, my best man, Dan, tells me there’s somebody I have to meet next time he’s in town. Turns out this cat, Mike, and I are on the same page.

Beers are drank.
Ideas are shared.
Emails are exchanged.

The plan is stories from the garage—the professional garage. Tales of craftsmanship and precision; culture and passion; success, failure, and pressing on regardless.

You know, the kinda shit that made Gearbox special. Only this time, there’s already a few million people a month visiting the site.

More to come once we’re off the jack stands.