A few weeks ago, while in Europe, I had a free day and decided to spend it in Liverpool, England visiting a museum dedicated to The Beatles.

Now for those of you 40 years of age and younger, I might have to explain that Liverpool is the home of the venerable rock group “The Beatles.”  The Beatles were “war babies,” John Lennon was born in 1940 and George Harrison (the youngest Beatle) was born in 1943.  

These kids were from the hardscrabble parts of a very hardscrabble town. Liverpool is a blue collar city that fancies its soccer (make that football) team far more than any of cultural icon, of which there are quite a few.  Liverpulians are descended from dockworkers who tend to the nature harbor that includes the Mersey River.  Like I said, blue collar all the way.  

The Beatles were in their teens when they began to gain notice around Liverpool and found their way to a club called the “Cavern.” The Cavern was pretty much what it sounds like ... a basic World War II bomb shelter turned into a nightclub.  I’m claustrophobic, so it was very difficult for me to stay in the Cavern once my mind began to remind me of exactly where I was.  Picture walking down the narrowest alley you have ever been in, turning left into a flight of very close stairs, and then descending even further into a sweltering pit that was so closely crowded with people that the walls themselves perspired!

For 294 consecutive nights, The Beatles turned up to play at the Cavern.  Along with them were the hard core fans; these were the people that would arrive early and sit and wait in the alleyway until the club would open.  In time, club management (sensing a good thing) even added a lunchtime show.  

Two-hundred ninety-four nights.  Think of it.  No matter how much you love what you do, this has got to become aggravating at some point.  

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I know it may sound melodramatic, but might Tuesday, November 6, 2007 be the day that the great metropolis of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania reaches its “tipping Point”?
 
Think of it: especially if you are like me and over 55.  I remember the bustling Holiday Seasons, where one took the streetcar downtown just for the experience.  I remember walking through not one, not two, but THREE huge department stores … each replete with “Toy Departments” (even though I had at most 50 cents to spend at those wonderful oases).
 
I remember the huge corporations and their company picnics.  Things just seemed secure as we all looked to the big-money/mega-power executives of the Allegheny Conference for guidance and wisdom.
 
Of course, much of this was through the prism of a young boy’s eyes, but one thing that could not be denied was the fact that this city, this metropolitan area, was among the ten largest in the United States.  This meant that we had clout. I believe that today’s term for this is “gravitas”, which I do admit sounds rather cool.
 
But whatever you wish to call it, we were important!
 
Then, we were hit by a combination of punches that would make Cassius Clay proud.  First, somebody discovered air conditioning.  Then came mass media - showing us all that one could lie on a beach in the dead of winter without first having to show a passport.  But atop all of these technological changes also came the inevitable - complacency.
 
The Chinese call complacency “the curse of the third generation”.  I call it, “The fire usually goes out whenever you’re sitting on a big fat trust fund.”  Either way, all I know is that while New York City survived, we sank.  As Washington built upon the growth of centralized government, we went ahead and gave up on the steel industry.  While Boston capitalized upon its rich history, we acted as if we had no history whatsoever.  We failed to study our natural assets and resources and thus we lost any opportunities to exploit them altogether.
 
Now, we’re in the bottom of the ninth, down 6-0 with the bases empty.  We’ve used our best pinch hitters and our bullpen is completely depleted.  We’ve sold off or traded away much of our young talent, and while there is no clock in our game, there is the reality of the scoreboard and our ability to affect it.
 
What to do?  Who to rely upon?
 
Panic has already set in.

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Ever since I “cashed out” of my last big operational company in late August of 1999, I have felt as if I were being “hunted” by both skillful and unskilled sportsmen.  Most of the conversations with these predators would start the same way, “Ron, I am stuck and you are the sharpest (fill in the blank) business person I know.”  They would close by saying, “I’d just like to get a few minutes with you, perhaps over lunch (at which point, they always make sure that I know they'll be paying) you name the place, I need only a short amount of your time.”

In the beginning, I was being contacted around a dozen or so times a year.  This was something that I could easily handle and, in fact, I enjoyed listening to the business stories of these aspiring entrepreneurs. But as we got into the latter part of 2001 and especially after 9/11, the up tick was more than perceptible.  In fact, it was downright overbearing!
 
I had also just started my talk radio show around this time … so you could easily make the case that I was “asking for it”.
 
Since many saw these lunches as a tacit agreement to move on to the next step and as the number of requests continued to grow, I simply stopped agreeing to go.  As such, the conversations and e‑mails became more strident.  They would generally dispense with any small-talk and go right to something like, “Ron, I am in significant trouble with (fill in your favorite supplier and/or government agency here), and I really need to see you and talk to you.  I normally wouldn’t bother a person as busy as you, but this is extremely urgent, my wife is on the edge of a nervous breakdown, and my kids are even going without food.”  These people wanted to meet that very same day.  

Although they provided little to no background data on their predicament, they were not the least bit shy in asking for huge sums of money.  Instead of a financial statement, statement of sources, and uses of cash, people were bringing two or three of their employees and suppliers (e.g., accountant, lawyer) with them.  The sole purpose of these folk’s job was apparently to “sing back-up” testimony for the original entrepreneur’s tale of woe.

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On Wednesday, September 26th, I had the privilege of meeting and hearing a speech by Dr. Aron Ralston, a CMU graduate who is a presenter in the Robert Morris University Speaker Series at Heinz Hall.

My wife and I have attended these events regularly since the first year.  Throughout that time, we have had the privilege to hear such luminaries as John Major, Colin Powell, Nora Ephron, and Robert Kennedy, Jr.  (And these are just a handful of the impressive people that we’ve heard.)

In all cases, these speakers have provided a surfeit of talent and anecdotal knowledge.  I am especially overwhelmed by the stories of people who have undertaken impossible tasks and yet, somehow, still succeeded; stories from people like Aron Ralston.

At the age of 25, Mr. Ralston became trapped in a canyon where his arm was wedged between a giant boulder and the canyon's very narrow walls.  The dynamics of the accident are just too complicated to explain herein; except to say that most of the bones in Ralston’s lower hand and wrist were completely crushed.  In fact, “pulverized” might be a better word.

To make matters worse, Aron was in the hot desert sun during the day and the freezing desert night each evening.  The nominal amount of water he had was so little, in fact, that by the third day he was ultimately forced to drink his own urine.  He had no food and soon lost some 40 of his 165 lbs. 

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Regular listeners to TAE may recall the episode not too long ago when a well-intentioned caller asked my guest (a venture capitalist from New York City) about securing a two million dollar investment for his latest start-up.

I say “latest”, because I've lost count  of the number of business this guy has started or attempted to start in just the past five years.

His start-ups are always “trendy”. For example, when Sarbanes-Oxley was sweeping the nation, his start-up was (all together now) designed to deal with Sarbanes-Oxley!

I oftentimes wonder when this guy, as well as probably a million other American entrepreneurs, might learn that the real secret of entrepreneurism is to “Work against your base nature --- and do just one thing at a time.”

You heard me: “work against your nature” … and you entrepreneurs know exactly what I mean … you must bury the son-of-a-gun that keeps on sabotaging your start-ups.

(To I.D. that son-of-a-gun, please check the nearest mirror.)

Yep, he’s “the man in the glass”. The person who habitually prevents entrepreneurs from reaching their financial independence goals.

But why do so many business operators chronically refuse to “stay the course”? Why do these entrepreneurs start their second enterprise way before the first one has even approached profitability, much less stability?

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