The Stuff of Experiences

When I was in the auction and antique business we had a saying- “it’s all about the stuff”. And it was true. If you had great “stuff” people would show up in at a barn in the middle of nowhere to buy it. And this is still true in many ways. The best art, antiques, furniture, etc, still gets a premium price but the rest of it is increasingly just “stuff” and sells for whatever it sells for, there is less and less of a floor for antiques and collectibles. 

This is not an isolated trend. Objects are transitioning from destination to vessel. Older generations amassed collections of “mint in box” objects- dolls, pottery, etc. But more recent generations collect experiences- stories, photos, videos, etc. Before, a collector's quest was a complete collection of objects (Hummel figurines, for instance), now it is a complete set of experiences (a fully realized persona/story). 

This is not to say all physical objects have lost their relevance, it’s just that their role is changing. They are increasingly playing a supporting role to experiences. 

As we have begun to collect experiences the objects accumulate meaning by association. That experience, or story, ties itself to the physical object and deepens that object's meaning in our lives. It goes from being anonymous to personal. To gather this meaning the object must color and add to the experience in some way.

Consider our phones, those marvelous little things that follow with us wherever we go. A phone only has value as the device which enables and documents experiences. We understand that we can quickly backup and reload the data on another device. In many ways the data is more real to us than the device. The device itself has passing relevance. It adds very little color to our experiences. It's no surprise that very few people collect digital devices, mostly we recycle them. 

So where does this leave us? Value is shifting from stuff to experiences, from collecting items to collecting memories. The objects that remain in our lives will mostly fall into two categories- they will fill a very basic human need or they will be tied to an experience. Toilets or totems. “Stuff" that falls in-between risks obsolescence. So if you want to bring more objects into this world I suggest you find ways to tie them to compelling experiences. 

Obsessing Over: Carl G Fisher

I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t know who Carl G Fisher was until a couple years ago. My buddy Dan Ripley turned me on to him. He kept going on about everything Carl had done- the Speedway, Indy 500, Prest-O-Lite, the Lincoln Highway, (the first transcontinental highway) the Dixie Highway, Miami Beach, Montauk Bay… it seemed impossible that one guy could have been responsible for so much and yet known so little. If you think I’m making this up then check out his Wikipedia page.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_G._Fisher 

So I dug in and Dan’s obsession became mine. I read a biography over vacation and then another when I got back. I began to see something very specific in Carl’s life, something, perhaps, unique to Indianapolis. 

Carl never cared much about recognition, despite being a brilliant marketer, he hated being in the spotlight and rarely gave interviews. But this didn't stop him from pulling brilliant marketing stunts when needed. See the picture above from the Indy Star when he flew a car across the city attached to a hot air balloon to promote his auto-dealership (the first in the state). For Carl it was always about the idea. He loved cars, planes, boats...anything that went fast, he was obsessed with speed. 

He left his name on none of his achievements.  Carl served whatever idea captured his attention and felt that any focus on him was a waste of time. That being said, he had one of the most interesting personalities of his time. Stubborn and persistent, charming when needed, whatever it took to get something done.

I see so much of that entrepreneurial DNA still bouncing around Indy. People coming together to do great things, not worrying about the credit. I see this spirit alive in many Indianapolis entrepreneurs and residents. Sometimes we chide ourselves for our lack of ego but I suggest we look at the life Carl lived as an example of a deeply passionate and impactful life in the service of big ideas, not big egos. 

I urge you to take some time and get to know Carl, he’s someone well worth obsessing over. 

Every Record Tells A Story

It was 1996 and I lived in Bloomington with 3 of my closest friends. It was our last year of college. We were all fans of Big Star, myself especially. I realize not everyone reading this is a music nerd so here's their Wikipedia page.  Big Star was a rock band from the early 1970s that influenced almost every "Alternative/Indie" band that came after them- REM, The Replacements, Teenage Fan Club, etc. They put out three albums, going from pristine power pop to heartbreaking sketches held together by threads. When I first heard Big Star's "Big Black Car" in 1991 it felt like I'd made land. It gave me a new vocabulary, a new world to explore. I was in love.

So me and my friends decided to go on a pilgrimage to Big Star's home town of Memphis. We piled into a 70s Econoline van with no seats in the back. We decided to turn it into a living room on wheels, pulling in every blanket, pillow and bean bag we could find along with our guitars. We didn't have a plan as much as a map. But I knew what success looked like for me. I wanted to find some original Big Star albums, on vinyl, the real stuff. 

I hadn't really started collecting records before then. I switched to CDs around 1984, an early adopter I guess. CDs sounded so amazing back then. No background noise, just bright, crisp and consistent sound. They seemed so much better than records. Now I know that in reality I probably just needed a new needle for my turntable- in fact, I think this was a big driver of the CD revolution, people had gotten lazy and their records all sounded noisy and dull thanks to old needles. 

By the mid-90s I'd started listening to records again and was liking how they sounded, how they felt more "real" than CDs. But finding rare records back then was a real challenge- no internet, no eBay. Original Big Star records were, and still are, pretty rare things, selling for $50+ when you can find them. You almost never see them in the "wild", i.e. record stores. But I figured if any place would have a Big Star record it would be their hometown of Memphis. 

After digging through a number of Memphis record stores and coming up empty I was beginning to give up hope. Then I got lucky at the last store we visited.  I asked the guy behind the counter if he knew how I could track down some Big Star records. He completely shocked me when he said "actually I was just at a garage sale for an old Ardent Records employee (Ardent was Big Star's original label in Memphis) and they had the first two records but without the jackets, I guess they were promos or something. Not sure if you still want them but I can do $8 each". He then went behind the counter and pulled them out. Sure, I would have loved to have the original jackets but I was thrilled to get them for so cheap. That's one of the records (#1 Record, to be specific, what a great title for a first album!) in the picture above. I listened to it while writing this post. I have a much "better" copy now I still like to listen to this one. Maybe it's my imagination, but it seems to carry some of my personal history in its grooves. 

So here's where I going with all this, I believe that physical objects can attach themselves to our memory in a deeper way than digital objects. Think of your phone, almost no-one saves their old phones. It's the content on that phone that matters, not the vessel that carries it. For most people, losing a phone is simply an inconvenience (buy new phone, hit restore), not an emotional event. We don't feel like we have lost any of ourselves in losing that device. I did a little research on this topic and came across some studies that show we remember content better when reading on paper vs screen. 

I think some of this stems from the fact that reading on paper engages more of our senses. The more senses we engage, the richer the memory. I believe the same goes with records. We have a deeper connection with the sound we are hearing when we know it is coming from a physical object- one with artwork and grooves, something we can physically engage with, one that can travel with us through time and build its own life alongside ours. It is no longer just sound we are hearing, it is our sound, it is our object, we own it and it becomes part of us. When we lose it, we lose part of ourselves.  When we give it away we share part of ourselves with others. I love giving people records for this reason, it feels like I am connecting with them on a deeper level. 

Over time I have come to see my record collection as my memory bank. Every record tells a story. In the past few years I have started hiding little ephemera in-between the records. Little drawings my kids have done, tickets from shows, cards from my wife, letters from my parents. These things matter more and more to me as so much of my life becomes digitized.

I'm not a hater of digital things, they are awesome in their own way, but our digital experiences often feel thinner than their analog counterparts- like going from whole milk to skim. Digital experiences don't engages us as deeply, they don't travel with us through life, they become "outta sight, outta mind" far too often. I expect to see more of us going back to analog objects and experiences as we find digital experiences more and more unfulfilling. I think the opportunity here is to bridge the analog and digital worlds, finding ways to create meaningful experiences that jump between the two. I look at our friends over at BrainTwins as pioneers in this new handicraft digital world. I love how they move seamlessly between analog and digital experiences. 

So I hope we can find the right balance, embracing analog and digital experiences while pursuing the magic that happens when they come together. Oh, and Long Live Vinyl! 

What I Learned from 2014's Big Freeze aka Snowpocalypse

This past Sunday the snow was falling and I was looking forward to being snowed in for a few days. I had a pork butt smoking on the Green Egg, a fire going, records playing, games with the kids, etc. I was looking to do some reading, catch up on email and hibernate a little more before heading back to work. But everything changed around 2:30pm when the power went out. After waiting a couple hours we decided, with the approaching cold front (Arctic Vortex!) that it was best to evacuate. Fortunately my in-laws live in town so after some packing we made our way through the snow and resettled at their house a few miles away. 

Tonight, back home at last, I am sitting by the fire, listening to records and reflecting from the last 3 days. What was learned?

I wash my clothes way too much. You can wear the same jeans and shirt for 4 days.

In-laws are awesome. Jenny's parents took the 5 of us in, and our big dog Russell, and made us feel at home. Good food, wine, games. We were hardly roughing it. I know we put them out but they never complained and I feel lucky to have them in my life. Thanks John and Cheryl! 

Good neighbors are priceless. My neighbors kept a watch for our lights to come back on, their text last night "Lights are on!" was the most exciting text I've gotten in a while. When we finally got back in the house my neighbor Ray across the street came and cleared my drive with his snow blower (I really need to buy one of those) when my Volvo couldn't hack it. I can't believe how poorly that car handles the snow. 

I don't like having a beard. I left my razor at home and finally had a chance to shave tonight. It had been about a week since I was already slacking before the storm hit. I really don't like having facial hair. It seems like I can never get past the itchy stage. I don't know how those dudes in Williamsburg do it. 

Being uprooted messes with the mind. One thing I noticed when I started to come back to work this week was that I was more unfocused and discombobulated (love that word) than usual. I was a mess, basically. I didn't feel centered or on my game. My energy was off. A lot of that, I think, comes from being uprooted. It made me think about how fortunate I really am. I mean, come on, I packed up the family and drove 3 miles south to stay in a very nice, warm house- first world problems all the way. But so many people around the world live in an almost constant state of disruption. Often we think of this in physical terms but this small sample experience reminded me that the mental impact is equal if not greater. I feel much more sympathetic to those that struggle with maintaining a safe and comfortable home. Now I want to challenge myself to do something about that, how can I build on this increased awareness?

We (still) crave shared experiences. It was really interesting to watch, almost as peaking through a window, everyone's reaction to the storm via social media. Sometimes I like to look at my wife's Facebook feed and vice versa. Since we have many of the same friends it can seem weird how different each feed can be. So it was interesting to see that the storm/freeze created an overwhelming shared experienced that forced us out of our highly personalized feeds, if only for a small period of time. As a culture we don't have many shared experiences at this time. There aren't a lot of moon landing moments. It felt good to go online and see all of us talking and sharing about the same thing. We may have been snowed in but it felt a little bit like we were in it together. 

What was your experience? What did you learn?

What Exactly Is A Pink Eagle? #thinkkit

Today's Think Kit prompt is, and I quote, "What did you make this year? Whether something personal, like a song or some art, or a work project, share your process, the end result about your creation."

That helped me remember. I made some music this year. In fact I did more than usual. Prior to the past year I'd been in hibernation mode with music. Sure, I would play here and there but mostly my guitars sat unloved and unplayed. I guess I felt with my focus on a growing business and family I didn't have the time. But I also knew I missed it pretty badly. Fortunately I was able to turn things around over the last year and a half.

It started with regular Sunday night jam sessions with Matt Hunckler and Kevin Bailey. We call ourselves The Startups because we think that's hilarious and we write silly songs about the start up scene. And since we are all marketers we have started writing persona soundtracks as well. Here's one for a persona named "Joey". He lives in Brooklyn, works as a barista, struggling artist, etc. You get the picture. We think there's a whole business writing persona soundtracks but that's an idea that must wait for another post.

So it's been great to play regularly and really deepen my friendship with these two guys. They are both awesome and it's been a real highlight of my year to get to spend regular time with them. Our conversations range widely from technology to science to cities to the future, space, etc. And sometimes we play music too.

The other big music project I undertook this year was an EP In A Weekend project with two of my oldest friends- Finn Swingley and Simon Hanstad. We did a little planning and entered Queensize studios in April to knock out 6 songs in 3 days. Andy Fry manned the boards (with help from Vess Ruhtenberg on the tape machine) and Devon Ashley (the best drummer in town, no joke) on drums. We worked hard and fast and I'm really proud of the results which you can hear below. (I wrote tracks 3 and 6, Finn wrote 2 and 5, Simon, 1 and 4. It just says "Jeb Banner" on all of them because it's my Soundcloud account)

Recording and mixing 6 pieces of music in one weekend is no small feat and it reminded me of how important time management is. There are times in our lives when we can, and should, ignore the clock, just let things happen and try to exist outside of time. That's very freeing when you can pull it off. But I think to have kind of freedom you need to be very intentional about your usage of time, the rest of the time. This weekend was all about being intentional. We called the EP "Commit To It" because the time constraints required us to make quick decisions. The success of the project was due to this commitment. It reminded me of how important it is to have a shared vision that can create clarity and alignment. I continue to take that lesson back to my work. There are few forces in the world that can stop a committed team of people who share a clear vision. 

Queensize Studios during Pink Eagles session

Oh, and why did we call this project the "Pink Eagles"? It stems from a comment Vess Ruhtenberg made when we were listening to playback "this sounds like Pink Floyd being played by the Eagles" which we thought was awesome and hence the "Pink Eagles".