Why am I starting a blog now?

It’s 2014--people jumped on this blogging bandwagon, like, 5,300 days ago. Maybe I was too busy. Maybe I felt there was TMI out there. Maybe I feared being this handsome and a great writer would likely tick you off and I just don’t need that kind of hassle.

Well, two things inspired me to start. First, a great article I accidentally found by the wonderful yet likely from another planet James Altucher:

http://www.jamesaltucher.com/2013/12/the-ultimate-cheat-sheet-for-reinventing-yourself-2/

(I love how I am barely seven sentences into my first blog post and I am already directing you to leave my page. I really need to curb my generosity).

Second, I thought about all those times in Business School when I invented creative challenges for myself and it felt—well, purposeful.

Some of those challenges were directly related to standing out, like during a Leadership presentation when everyone else played it pretty much straight (and, in fairness, we were supposed to act as consultants advising a client on a serious matter), yet for my part, I created a loud, hyperbolic CEO persona who used verbal aggression, magic tricks and the timely assault of a helpless Cabbage Patch Kid doll to make his points.

It went down quite well with the class, yet my professor—who is blind—felt completely terrorized.

Marketing Tip #1: Know your audience.

Marketing Tip #2: You can’t please everyone.

**It's Always So Sad When the Kids Turn to Meth.**

Good thing my wife advised me against using fire in my presentation.

No joke—I was going to pull live matches out from under my lapels to make some random point. I learned that magic trick from a clever high school friend (thanks, Matt Antinoro). My professor likely would have had a coronary if she smelled smoke and, really, hasn’t she had enough to deal with already?

Marketing Tip #3: Off-the-wall thinking is a blessing but it's nice to have someone around to reign you in. Sometimes.

Other challenges were a bit more…frivolous (funny how assaulting a children’s toy in an Ivy League classroom is not something I consider frivolous).

Like the time when my good friend Brad randomly mentioned Paul Simon’s “50 Ways To Leave Your Lover”, which prompted me to drift off and, by the end of class, create a version of the tune as if it were written by Jack the Ripper as a celebrity stalker (it was a boring class anyway!).

Sample verse:

I took a trip to London just to meet the Queen

I stabbed her with her crown, I guess that’s kinda mean

They’ll never find me, I’m disguised like Mr. Bean

There must be, 50 ways to cleave your monarch.

(Just consider yourself lucky I didn’t post the verses I wrote about Reese Witherspoon, Mariah Carey, Stephanie Meyer and Nancy Pelosi. Then you would have felt exactly like my Leadership professor).

On a completely separate note, e-mail me if you want to know the match trick.

**There Must Be, 50 Ways To Leave This Blog Post.**

So to wrap up this epic and likely award-winning first post, I will share a story.

I’ve worked in the music business most of my adult life, first as an attorney and then in marketing with the agency I co-founded, Takeout Marketing. An older friend of mine is a true legend in the business. I first worked with him at a major label and later, he served on my company’s Board of Directors. He’s not a household name but he’s had a remarkably successful career. Let’s call him Freddie (not his real name).

Every year, Freddie goes to the international music business conference in Cannes, France known as Midem. He’s probably gone for the past I-can’t-even-count-that-high number of years. Freddie told me a story that I’ve never forgotten.

In 1973 at Midem, Freddie was walking around on the floor of the exhibition and he kept passing this tiny booth, staffed by one malnourished-looking British kid with a turntable. This dude kept playing the same song over and over (and over) to the point where it was driving people nuts.

Freddie said it was the weirdest sounding tune, completely instrumental, symphonic with a hollow, evil-sounding melody (apparently not meant for summertime sing-a-longs while drumming on your steering wheel).

Freddie went up to the kid and asked him about this song he kept playing. The kid – whom Freddie described as very nice and polite – excitedly told him it was the first release on his new record label. Freddie—who has signed and produced more than a fair share of hit songs—smiled, shook his head, wished the poor bloke luck and walked away.

About a year later, Freddie decided to take in a movie that seemingly everyone in America was buzzing about (it would go on to become one of the highest-grossing films of all time). Freddie was digging into his tub of popcorn (and in 1974, that tub was probably the size of piece of children’s bedroom furniture and cost 13 cents) when the opening credits appeared and THAT CRAZY SONG STARTED PLAYING. It was the title track, actually.

The movie? The Exorcist.

The song? Tubular Bells.

The label? Virgin Records.

The polite, skinny British kid? Richard Branson.

Yes, Richard Branson--he of Virgin Airlines, Virgin Cola, Virgin Mobile, Virgin Hotels, Virgin Intergalactic and, likely someday, Virgin Heaven, Virgin Hell & Virgin Purgatory-- started his ENTIRE FREAKING EMPIRE playing one weird song in a 3x3 booth for people who thought he was crazy.

And something else of note: Sir Richard had dyslexia and was such a poor student that he barely graduated from high school.

Just Wait Until You See The Altar Girls at Virgin Church. — **Just Wait Until You See The Altar Girls at Virgin Church**.

We can start anything at anytime from anywhere.

What are you starting today?