Rivalries are stupid

One more lesson generated by Los Angeles Dodgers’ (and former San Francisco Giants’) front office guy, Ned Colletti: I know I’m way way in the minority on this. After all, people love to hate. But I find myself identifying with and liking both sides of rivalries. I’m a Giants fan, but I don’t hate the Dodgers. I like Ned Colletti, for example. I like Dodgers right fielder, Andre Ethier. I don’t understand why, just because I like the Giants, I have to hate the Dodgers. The Dodgers are human beings. Some of them may be jerks, but a lot of them, like Ethier, are probably pretty cool. Maybe it’s because I went to college in LA. Maybe it’s because my daughters both live in SoCal. I mean, should

Best New Singer/Songwriter around…

Estee is an incredible new talent. Her music combines creativity with hard work. (She's pretty much self-taught.) She has a soulful vibe that's unique and addicting. And guess what? She's from the Bay! http://www.facebook.com/SharonEstee

The College Dropouts Hall of Fame

What did these people already know that allowed them to create great success WITHOUT a degree? Whatever it is, why aren't we teaching it in our schools? http://collegedropoutshalloffame.com/nogo.htm


More on Dodgers' (and former Giants') general manager Ned Colletti. The guy has the dream baseball front office job. He's gone just about as high as a person can go in his profession. So he must have gone to Harvard, Yale or Princeton, right? Or Stanford. Or, at the very least, Cal! But no, Colletti went to Northern Illinois University – not exactly a name brand college. I love it. Colletti, like so many other super achievers, (Oprah, for one) is evidence that it's not the college, it's the person. A fascinating website to investigate is The College Dropouts Hall of Fame. I'm not advocating that anyone drop out, but I am saying that whatever the successful dropouts know – the list only start

School's Out. Stop Cramming!

School’s out. Stop cramming! The Daffodil Principle is one of the most important lessons to use, not just learn. My wife’s first graders could learn it, but that doesn't mean they'd use it. (Although some would – maybe more than many of my seniors, the master crammers.) The Daffodil Principle teaches that what’s most important CAN’T be crammed. Losing weight, for instance. You can try cramming it – sit in the sauna for four hours and you’ll lose plenty of weight – but it won’t work. Not only is I not safe, it won’t last. It’s not real weight loss. The way to successfully lose weight is to use the Daffodil Principle: Shed a pound or two a week until you reach your goal. What else can’t be cra

Pleasure and Passion

Pleasures vs. Passions I definitely agree with Stacie Orrico's MORE TO LIFE ("There's got to be more to life than chasing down every temporary high to satisfy me…"), pleasures are needed, too. True, life is about having passions. They're hard and they cost. They cost time spent working and practicing. They give us fleeting moments of great joy, but at least as many moments of great sorrow. After all, the literal meaning of "passion" is "suffering." So, to balance the pain, we need our pleasures. Unlike passions, pleasures are almost always satisfying – as long as we don't over satiate. (Sleep is pleasurable – until we've had enough. Ice cream is pleasurable – until we don't want any more.) T

What-It-Takes is Back!

I'm overly into credibility. I'm obsessed with the three questions: Who are you? What have you done? Why should I listen to you? If you don't have good answers, I'm not that into what you have to say and not that interested in learning what you have to teach. Which is why I'm biased against bloggers. To blog, you need zero credibility. Any idiot can have a blog. For over 12 years, until print journalism was mortally wounded by the Internet, I was a paid newspaper columnist. A professional. Hired by a professional editor, but only after being recommended, interviewed, and submitting several dress rehearsal columns. My column was called "What It Takes," and that's exactly what it was about. Wh