Free The Monk and the Riddle: The Art of Creating a Life While Making a Living by Randy Komisar, Kent Lineback

to use it positively. In the U.S., the rules of business are like the laws of physics, neither inherently good nor evil, to be applied as you may. You decide whether your business is constructive or destructive. I help people understand this and express themselves in what they do, trying to make a difference through business.
    It probably wasn't the answer he expected. He chuckled.
    “Creative? Personal expression? Making a difference?” he mused. “Must be nice, but that's not my experience. I can't remember how many ideas I've brought into my company that have gone nowhere. We fight for the bottom line. ‘Beat the numbers. Beat the numbers.’ I've given up. So I play the game, do my job.”
    No wonder he was hawking a startup.
    “I didn't say every business situation is creative or constructive,” I responded. “I only said business at its heart has the potential for creative expression and positive change.”
    He rubbed his hands as if they were cold.
    “I really wish that were true,” he said. “But I've never seen it.”
    “It took me years to understand it,” I said. “It's not obvious.”
    I pulled on my leather jacket. We shook hands. He stood by my bike as I put on my helmet and revved the engine.
    He seemed at a loss for what to say. Another frustrating day. No money. His cofounder bailing out.
    “I'd like to stay in touch on this, if that's OK?” he asked.
    “Send me an e-mail. That's the best way.”
    I slowly pulled away from the curb. Lenny and I would probably never see each other again. Nonetheless, I wished the best for him. Another short-timer struggling to do something he hoped would, if it succeeded, clear the way for what he really wanted to do, whatever that was. In my rearview mirror I glimpsed him standing alone at the curb, briefcase in one hand, file case in the other.

Chapter Four
     
    T HE
D EFERRED
L IFE P LAN
     
    I ARRIVED BACK HOME LATE that evening after dinner with some old friends at the Iberia, another of my local spots. It was a bit of a “My Dinner with André” gathering. We postulated, between the paella and a few bottles of Spanish wine, on just how high the market could go and wondered whether there would be a bottom if things deteriorated. By my second glass, I was holding forth on the metaphysics of business, the human and social dimensions of commerce. My companions—all variously involved in the Valley as founders, funders, or functionaries—had heard this bit so many times, they just nodded in faint agreement and tried to steer the conversation back to the practicalities of buying low and selling high.
    My afternoon had divided neatly into two parts: First back at the Konditorei for another pitch from a group of upstarts proposing to use the Net to improve customer service, retention, and recovery. Then a board meeting at which, depending on how you wanted to look at it, we wrestled with an impending cash crunch or we readied the company for a public offering. What looks like a cloud to one person is a chance to sell umbrellas to the next.
    My wife, already off to bed, had left a light on. Debra is a high-powered senior executive at Hewlett-Packard, now one of the Valley's most venerable companies, decades beyond its scrappy start. Tika and Tali, our more-or-less Rhodesian Ridgebacks, shoved their muzzles through the door as I opened it, their tails drumming the wall in unison.
    I ditched my boots, poured myself a Calvados, and headed to my office for the final task of the day: clearing phone messages and e-mails. Through the window, the distant lights of San Francisco twinkled like the Milky Way.
    ----
TO: [email protected]
     
FROM: [email protected]
     
SUBJECT: Dead or Alive?
     
Randy, any chance yet to talk to the Funerals.com guy? Unusual idea. Lemme know what you think.
     
Frank
     
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    A sandy-haired, softening, former fraternity boy out of UCLA, Frank is a genuinely nice guy. But his easy affability hides a fierce competitive streak. On the