The Panic Might Be Worse Than the Virus: What We Know and What We Don’t Know

We see this every time. Every. Single. Time.

Something unknown happens. The worst-case scenario is assumed. People behave irrationally in a panic. A billion arguments happen on Twitter and Facebook while the market collapses.

Then… more knowledge is gained. Uncertainty is resolved. People calm down. The market recovers.

And we move onto the next crisis (What will Prince Harry actually do for a living to gain his “financial independence”?)

I admit: After trading through SARS, swine flu, MERS, etc. this is the first time I’m legitimately scared.

NOT BECAUSE OF THE VIRUS.

But because of the panic.

Turns out the entire world got almost all of their products from China and nobody had a plan B.

With China closed down, that could lead very quickly (due to our “crack pipe” reliance on China) to a massive financial crisis, unemployment, and a complete upheaval of the financial system as people get angry, depressed, and who knows what else.

And, in a weird way, people are rational to irrationally panic.

That’s what humans have been doing for 250,000 years. That’s how our ancestors survived, as opposed to the humans who did not (they did not panic-run at the rustling of leaves. And then a lion ate them).

BUT… learning how to think (rather than rely on media, or politics, or fear or anger), even in a full disaster scenario, is more critical to survival than a surgical mask.

That’s the only thing I really know.

HERE’S WHAT WE DON’T KNOW:

A) HOW MANY ARE INFECTED

There might be millions infected who never showed symptoms and quickly got cured.

Instead of 100,000 infected cases, there might be tens of millions.

All we know is the number of infected who required hospital treatment. We have no idea if this is 100% of people infected or 0.00001%.

HOW CAN WE KNOW HOW MANY ARE INFECTED?

We will only know in hindsight. This was the case in 2010 when everyone was panicking about H1N1.

People assumed a much higher infection rate than actually occurred (discovered in hindsight).

South Korea has tested 40,000 people with 1,275 confirmed cases. 12 deaths. Less than 1%. However, even they don’t know how many of the 40,000 might have been already cured. So the fatality rate might be much lower.

B) FATALITY RATE

The media keeps quoting “2%” which is, best case, malpractice on the media’s part.

Since we don’t know “A”, there’s no way to know the fatality rate.

C) IMMUNITY

We don’t know if someone gets immunity if exposed to the coronavirus.

This is important because it gives us information about the longevity of this disease (if everyone gets herd immunity, it disappears) and guides us on how to spend dollars on vaccines.

D) IS CONTAINMENT WORKING?

We have no idea. It seems like it’s not working so well.

Wuhan is on lockdown and yet there are cases all over the world now.

It seems probable that the entire world will eventually be exposed. This is neither “good” nor “bad,” since we don’t know “B” above or “E” below.

BUT, and this is important, if containment is NOT working, then might as well get everyone back to work and keep the world economy flowing (see discussion below about “crack pipes”).

[Made exclusively in China.]

E) EXPOSED VS. INFECTED

Assume the entire world is eventually exposed. In my podcast on the topic I discuss with a top immunologist that this is a matter of “when” and not “if.”

This doesn’t mean that seven billion people become infected and then 2% of those die. I’ve actually seen those assumptions in major media outlets, which is just pure fear mongering.

We have no idea how many of the exposed, get infected. It could anywhere from 0.00001% to 100%. And, again, because of “B” and “A” above, the number of deaths could be very tiny.

All deaths are horrible but we have no idea what we are dealing with. Deaths happen from all seasonal diseases. There’s no avoiding it except to improve care.

But all the hysteria about the number of probable deaths is so far off on the actual math that it’s ludicrous.

F) IS IT SEASONAL?

20% of common colds are coronaviruses. The COVID-19 virus is a mutated version of the common cold.

The common cold is seasonal. It comes in the late fall and usually lasts until mid-spring.

Why is this important?

If this is seasonal, then we can plan accordingly. If it’s not, then we can plan accordingly on hospital needs, supply chain effects, etc.

[Almost exclusively made in China.]

WHAT WE DO KNOW:

Unfortunately, as a world, we realized that we were all smoking China’s crack pipe. I’m amazed how few industries had a plan B on manufacturing.

Here are some items almost exclusively made in China: Tylenol, all antibiotics, antianxiety medication (18 million subscriptions in the U.S. and heavily physically addictive), tissues, Clorox, vitamin C, salt, pepper, birth control pills, etc.

The list is huge.

Many small businesses expected that after the Chinese New Year, they could restock their inventories.

BUT their factories/suppliers are not even returning calls. They are CLOSED DOWN and could be for months.

Many of these businesses will go out of business if the panic does not subside even within the next few weeks.

What a disaster that essentially zero industries prepared for such a simple, and single, point of failure. That’s the real disaster here, which means the most important “cure” for the world is a cure for the panic.

Which is why if we knew more about containment or the actual fatality rate, China could make a rational decision about factories opening.

If containment is not working, then open them up.

Everyone in the world is going to get exposed anyway and we can’t avoid it.

Seven billion people will be affected if China shuts down for business. Unemployment will be the worst since the Depression. Life will change for everyone.

Long-term opportunity:

It’s weird to look for opportunity in the middle of this crisis but I think the likelihood is that, while this is a scary virus and a true pandemic, it’s not as scary as people think and there’s not much we can do about it.

Well, except wash your hands five times a day. That’s the main thing you can do.

A) EVERY INDUSTRY WILL WORK ON A PLAN B. South Korea, India, Indonesia, etc. will be more open for business.

B) THE TRADE WAR WITH CHINA IS OVER. China knows now that their manufacturing base is in trouble. Expect a much smoother conversation on tariffs.

C) A RACE TO DEVELOP cures / remedies / preparedness for potentially more lethal mutations of the coronavirus in future years.

However, it is not a given that there will be a more lethal mutation. This is also unknown. And Darwinism suggests that it can’t get much more lethal (buried people aren’t contagious and even sick people stay inside and are less contagious).

D) MASSIVE STIMULUS. To avoid a Recession in an election year, assume massive stimulus (correctly or incorrectly) by President Trump.

This could lead to disaster in 2021 and beyond (or not) but will also cause a potentially massive overheating in the stock market and real estate in 2020 if fears of the virus subside.

Why are these opportunities?

FOR INVESTORS:

Researching what investments in India, South Korea, etc. are appropriate. What companies are developing a cheap plan B? What are the ramifications of a reduced trade war with China? What biotech companies have more potential upside? What will be the upside AND the downside of massive financial stimulus which will almost certainly happen within the next month or so. What companies will be affected positively or negatively in next quarter by current supply issues?

FOR ENTREPRENEURS:

Can there be supply opportunities in the U.S.? Becoming an information resource on future pandemics or tracking of potentially fragile supply chain issues if another panic develops? Maybe more. I don’t know.

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How to Find Your Passion, Your Unfair Advantage, and Make Money

Dean had severe dyslexia and couldn’t read. Grew up in a trailer park. Got forgotten in school. People said he wouldn’t amount to anything. He didn’t go to college.

“I didn’t have any money,” he said. “But I loved fixing things. Building things. I wanted to follow my passion.”

Now he’s worth $50 million, and he told me how he did it. 

First, I want to say, I spent 12 years of my life with no other goal than to MAKE MONEY. Those were the worst years of my life. I had fake friends, I was miserable. Every time I made money, I lost it.

I just hated my life. If I have any regret, it’s that I didn’t stick to what I loved. We only have one life. I honestly feel like I wasted 12 years of mine. 

I kind of hate Dean right now also. Because he seemed to skip those 12 years. 

“I knocked on a million doors, got a lot of rejections. I guess I learned how to handle rejection at an early age,” Dean said.

“Why were you knocking on doors? What were you asking for?”

“I was trying to find someone who’d sell me a house with no money down. It was ridiculous to most people, until I found Mary Lopresti.”

Mary sold Dean his first house. And he paid $0 for it.

“She was a great, old Italian lady. I befriended her and after a month of pasta dinners on Sunday at her house, I found out what she wanted. And we made a deal.”

“What did she want?”

“She wanted a little bit more money for the house than anyone was willing to pay. Because before her husband passed, he said, ‘This is the price. Don’t sell it for $1 cheaper.’”

She wanted $125,000.

Everyone was offering her $90,000.

“When I found out her price, I could structure a deal around it.”

He paid her $2,000 a month. She moved to Florida. Dean redid the place, got a mortgage on it and paid her in full.

“I was supposed to pay her off in five years. I paid her in a year and a half. She’s sent me a Christmas card every year since. And that was my first deal.”

All of the “smart” people passed on Mary Lopresti’s house.

She wanted too much. So they moved on.

“I was young and dumb,” Dean said. “But we all need to go back to that sometimes.

“Then I bought the next house. And the next house. Now I have over 100 buildings.

“But…” he said to me, “I get it that you don’t want to buy a home. Most homebuyers make a mistake. They put all their money in one investment without having an unfair advantage. 

“To buy a house, find out the houses in probate. The ones where someone died and the kids live far away and will take any offer. Or if a couple is going through a divorce. Or tax trouble. All of this is public info.

“It’s amazing to me how people don’t try to get an unfair advantage. They buy at top dollar at the top of the market.

“You can only make money if you have an UNFAIR ADVANTAGE. Else, everyone would be doing it.” 

What is an unfair advantage? 

• You are passionate about something
• You put in the extra work to find where the opportunities are. Without obsession, you won’t be able to do this. 
• You figure out how to scale the method of finding  your unfair advantage. This is the key to monetizing your passion
• You go meta on your passion 
• You repeat and repeat and repeat with as many passions as you want. 

So Dean made money from real estate. NOW HE JUST TAUGHT ME HOW TO DO IT. And he’s taught many others. But I want to do it. I’m not passionate about real estate.  

And just because Dean sort of changed my mind about buying real estate… that’s not the reason I hate him.

Dean told me something interesting. 

“I know people in almost every industry who get this unfair advantage, no matter what they are interested in. 

“I know a woman who has eczema and runs an online course on how to cure it. She makes $200,000 a year. I know someone who collects toys from the 1800s. I know someone who is into sports and monetizes it using an unfair advantage. I know someone who designed their own t-shirts and made a killing.”

On an on. 

“So now I want to help others do it. Like I did it. Like so many people I know have done it.”  

It reminds me of Matt Berry, an early podcast guest. He was a Hollywood screenwriter and hated it when he was told to rewrite Crocodile Dundee, Part III. 

He quit. He got divorced. He lost everything. 

He loved sports. But he wasn’t an athlete. He started blogging for $100 a post about fantasy sports. And then he started an online community around fantasy sports. 

And now he’s the only anchor in the world on fantasy sports for ESPN. When I walk with him in the street, many people stop him to say thanks. I’m jealous. 

“I created a link for your listeners to check it out on the podcast,” he told me. 

“Tell them to go to JamesKBB.com by February 26,” he said. 

I’m forcing my daughters to do this.  

Message to my daughters: 

Go to http://JamesKBB.com (or listen to my podcast). 

1. Figure out your passion
2. Find an unfair advantage to make money
3. Scale it by teaching other people how to do it
4. Then scale that by sharing all your knowledge
5. Make $100 million a year (like Dean, whom I no longer hate). 

Go to JamesKbb.com to listen to Tony Robbins and Dean Graziosi talk about their “knowledge blueprint,” or listen to my podcast. 

If you haven’t found your unfair advantage in your passion, you’re competing against someone else who has.

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10 Years a Drug Addict

In 2010 I became a full-blown drug addict.

I had gotten divorced a few years earlier. I’d been broke at least three times by 2010. I had lost two homes by then. I had failed at many businesses.

Many times I had considered suicide or, at the very least, had no idea how I was going to afford the expenses of raising children.

When they were 3 years old, 5, 8, 10.

And 2010 looked like it was going to be a repeat of all of that. And this time I was going to break down as a human.

I had been bullish all through 2009 and had appeared so much on CNBC being bullish.

People thought I was insane. “The world is over! Are you crazy?”

People would shout at me on the street.

Even my mom called me one time after a CNBC appearance in 2010 and said to me, “Maybe you shouldn’t smile so much when you are on TV.”

“But,” I told her, “now is the time to smile — the market is going to head straight up from here.”

“Still…” she said.

Everyone seemed to hate me. And I was afraid. I had no opportunities. I felt like I was disappearing. I would cry every night with anxiety.

It was too much for me.

—

Every night I would wake up at 3 in the morning, take out my waiter’s pad, and add up numbers.

I would add, subtract, divide, over and over again. Money here, money there, losing this, making that, add it up. ZERO.

My heart would beat faster and faster.

In the morning it was like a scene from the movie “A Beautiful Mind” with pages from waiter’s pads ripped out and lying all over. Numbers crossed out. Zeros written everywhere.

I stopped going on TV. I became a recluse. I couldn’t deal with the constant haters. I was afraid all the time.

I tried everything. Meditation, breathing exercises, therapy. Breathe for five, hold for five, exhale for five.

At night I would sometimes cry, unable to sleep.

WHAT IS GOING ON WITH MY HEAD?! I would hit my head. Why are there so many thoughts there?! Let me go!

Nothing worked.

So I went to the doctor.

—

He prescribed Klonopin for me. One milligram. A tiny pill. “It will reduce your anxiety.”

It didn’t work.

Two milligrams.

Not enough. 12 milligrams is what an epileptic with regular seizures takes. I ended up taking six milligrams a day.

And it worked.

I was free.

—

My brain would not let me think an anxious thought. I tried. But the medicine blocked it.

I got back to writing every day. I was the most productive I had ever been in my life. This is amazing! I thought.

After only just a few weeks or a month or two, I didn’t need Klonopin anymore. I didn’t want it.

So I stopped cold. Why not? I was free!

The first day was amazing. I felt like I was productivity on steroids.

The second day was a disaster.

I sat in a chair and felt like the entire world was throwing itself at me and I had to just hold tight onto the chair or I would be flung into outer space. I stopped sleeping.

—

SIDE EFFECTS OF KLONOPIN WITHDRAWAL: Seizures, thoughts of suicide, tremors.

—

I went to the doctor.

He said, “It’s true, you no longer need Klonopin.

“You really only needed it for a few weeks. It provides zero value for you now.

“But… now you can’t stop just like that. Some people die when they stop cold.”

“How do I stop? I don’t want to be on it anymore.”

“Every three months, start taking a quarter milligram less. If you are on 6 milligrams now, start taking 5.75 milligrams for three months. Then 5.5. And so on.”

“It’s going to take forever to get off this,” I said. “What if it has long-term side effects, like dementia?”

He laughed. “Once you are off it, you’ll be fine.”

We’ll see.

—

I’d reduce. A little at a time. It would work. And then s*** would happen.

I had a very unpleasant divorce in 2015 that shocked me to the core.

And when you live the sort of life I live — I haven’t had an income since 1997. I’ve only “eaten what I’ve killed.”

But it’s hard. And it’s a roller coaster. And some years were famine and some feast. I was not a “civilian.” I was in the trenches.

But I never cared about the money. Which was maybe my problem.

I’ve turned down opportunities to start hedge funds, venture capital funds, new businesses.

I never want to take time from the things I love to do more of the things I hate.

And sometimes things were scary. Divorce. Death. Relationships.

Sometimes I’d write articles and people would hate me for my opinions. I’d lose friends.

When it seems like 100,000 people all at once are trolling you on the internet, it’s sometimes hard to handle.

So I stopped my tapering for a while. And I was tempted to increase. But I didn’t.

—

SIDE EFFECTS OF WITHDRAWAL: Inability to feel pleasure, hallucinations, anger.

—

I went from six milligrams to four milligrams by 2014.

Then I started to taper even more. But even 1 milligram a day is an addiction.

And it NEVER helped me during the day.

It was out of my system by morning since I only took it at night. It had nothing to do with my life other than as an addiction.

But your body loses the ability to create the chemicals needed to reduce anxiety like a normal person.

You are left with no infrastructure inside of you to fight the physical addiction. It’s brutal and it hurts.

And it takes a long time to rebuild.

But I reduced and reduced. Now 10 years later, almost done. Every year, reduced a bit more. Almost done. I hope almost done.

—

SIDE EFFECTS OF KLONOPIN: Slurred speech, diarrhea, depression.

—

Every day for the past 10 years I’ve practiced what I call my “Daily Practice.”

I ask myself at the end of each day, have I worked on my:

• PHYSICAL health (eat, move , sleep)
• EMOTIONAL health (prune toxic, and focus more on people I love)
• CREATIVITY (write 10 ideas a day, experiment)
• SPIRITUAL health (give up obsessing on things I can’t control. Learn the difference).

This practice changed my life in every direction. This practice made me ME.

Because of these four pillars each day, I figured out what I wanted in my life.

Who I wanted in my life.

I felt like an idea machine after working on my creativity every single day. I could feel my brain growing. My brain was shedding ideas wherever I looked.

Wherever I looked, I saw ideas. I saw opportunity.

I felt relaxed and focused, practicing not to worry about things I had no control over.

Every day, can I get 1% better at my physical health, emotional, creative, spiritual health?

Just 1% a day compounded is 3800% per year. It works. It works.

Except…

—

SIDE EFFECTS OF KLONOPIN: Blurred vision, dizziness, loss of memory, early dementia.

—

I’m almost at the end of tapering.

But, I’ll admit, I’m a little scared.

I’ve written every single day since August 1990 until now. Almost 30 years. Writing has been my life.

But my BEST writing, by far, started when I began taking Klonopin in 2010. I have to admit that.

And even though the actual change in my life lasted only a few weeks — my tolerance had expanded way beyond the level it could help me. But I was addicted.

What if I lose it? Lose my writing? What if I suddenly get anxious for no reason? What if?

“It won’t happen,” says the doctor. “This has had no psychological effect on you for 10 years.”

But what if?

I’m a little nervous about not being on it at all for the first time since 2010. Will my writing be worse? Will I have nightmares? Will I have dementia?

One more month of tapering after 10 years. No more addiction.

It worked. Take a deep breath.

I hope.

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What You Need to Know About the Coronavirus

I’m trying a new thing that’s important to me.

There’s constant fear mongering on tons of issues.

When Iran got in the news, my kids were worried it was the end of the world and they would be drafted.

So I did a podcast with an expert (as opposed to a spectator on Facebook shouting into an echo machine) and I helped calm people down.

I did this for Iran. For automation and AI. And I did it about the coronavirus today!

So many times I see common-sense turn people into animals. I want my podcast to help bring people the truth and help people calm down.

—

I don’t know what went wrong with me.

Saturday night I had some sort of panic in my head about coronavirus. I went to bed around 11 p.m. and just got into a panic until 7 a.m. I couldn’t sleep at all.

I worried about:

• Are 60 million people going to die?
• Is the world economy going to crash worse than ever before?
• Is everyone going out of business because people can’t get parts from China?
• Is China building a super-disease that is weaponized and now it’s’ too late?
• Will everyone in the world be exposed to the disease within the next few months?
• What is the real fatality rate? The math wasn’t making sense in the news.
• What’s the cure? Where’s a vaccine? How do we STOP THIS???
• How does it actually get transmitted? Will the WORLD ERUPT IN FLAMES? WILL BANKS CLOSE, RIOTS, HOSPITALS, MEDICINE???!!! ETC. ETC.

So I called up one of the top experts in the world. The smartest guy I knew on the planet about immunology and pandemics.

And he answered all my questions. And I calmed down. And I felt better. And I recorded it for my podcast.

Listen to it.

But now I have a migraine.

In any case: I just put out the ultimate podcast to learn the ups, downs, and reality of the 2020 coronavirus, right from the beginning.

The truth. Not the BS.

I calmed down.

Here it is…

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Sample Idea List: 10 Possible First Sentences for a Work of Fiction

I write 10 ideas a day to exercise my “idea muscle.”

The idea of the “10 ideas” exercise is not to produce good or bad ideas but just to exercise the creativity muscle. To become an idea machine.

They don’t have to be business ideas. Or actionable ideas. It’s just exercise. It’s just to get stronger every day.

Yesterday’s list was a list of cards for a game I’m making (my experiment of the week).

I’m sometimes asked to post my idea list. Although this list might seem inconsequential (I’ll never use these for anything), it took me a good 30 minutes. Every day that you write 10 ideas, your creativity muscle is exercised.

But I had fun writing these down. My only rule was to avoid clichés and passive language and try to have a sense of cliffhanger in that first line.

10 POSSIBLE FIRST SENTENCES FOR FICTION

My wife asked me to check the barbecue so we could start feeding our guests so I went outside, went to my Prius, drove out of my suburban driveway, down the street, onto the highway, and I never went back and I guess by now you all know what happened next.

—

The convention split in half and only hate was gluing it all together, until they selected me, an unknown governor of a tiny state, to be the vice president of the United States, a job I was not only unqualified for (even less so than Millard Fillmore in 1848), but I knew even then that I would eventually be exposed.

—

That was when I installed the keystroke logger on her phone to log and send to me every keystroke, every password, every message, every text kiss she would send to god knows who and why — but I’ll find out.

—

Jon was riding his bike, late for dinner, and didn’t see the car following him while the sun dimmed and didn’t see the man getting out and didn’t see the bat swinging and was unconscious by the time he was put in the trunk.

—

The Post said I was worth over $3 billion but I was thinking how they were off by a billion or so when I stared out at the crowd of strangers who had no idea who I was and did my first open mic of standup comedy — the first step that would bring me to ruin.

—

Imagine being born without eyes, being 16, only knowing voices as echoes, and then they put in the implants and suddenly all the mysteries of you and you and you and YOU became real and ugly and I knew then that the rest of my life would drown in disgust.

—

And then he realized something in the middle of our conversation, “You don’t know, do you? You really don’t know?” and he told me that Shmiddy, who I meant to call back (I swear it!), had killed himself last month.

—

Dear Diary, I really, really considered it, even tasted it, not just thought it, but really imagined — the bag over my head, held tight at the neck by a rubber band, stopping all air as I breathed in and out, the cuts to my wrists while red ink spurted out, the bathtub filling up, and I thought what Maya would say (would she laugh?) the next day when she heard at school.

—

Today my first client died.

—

“If you wake up next to him and realize you don’t care if he’s there or not, then you should end it,” is what Apple told me but I didn’t end it that morning, or the next day, or the next, and by then, a god came down from nowhere and changed him into who he is.

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Every Decision Is a Fear Decision or a Growth Decision

My dad became a broken man. His business zeroed out, his life savings were gone, he stopped sleeping.

When nothing else worked, he went on lithium to stabilize the depression. He cried in super markets, at parent teacher conferences, in front of me.

He wanted me to come home for Thanksgiving. It was my final year of college. He and my mom wanted me home but they didn’t want me to bring my girlfriend. They didn’t like her.

I said no and they cried please but I said no.

My girlfriend had nowhere to go.

It’s not like I was being noble.

I was young, afraid and insecure. I said no because if I left her behind she’d think I had no spine and she’d cheat on me.

I couldn’t take the chance.

—

Now I have a trick. If my “no” is because of fear, then it’s the wrong decision. If it’s out of growth, then it’s the right decision. I was always saying no out of fear.

“The same insecurities that plagued you at the age of 13 are still inside of you now,” says my therapist.

At 13 I wore braces. I had cysts that were big, purple mountains that oozed puss all day long. I had craters where once acne flourished.

My hair tangled so much every morning I spent half an hour with a comb trying to untangle it. I had glasses half the size of my face.

I looked like my dad looked when he was a kid. I was afraid all my life I would be like him. Broke and miserable and stupid and dead.

—

My first wife and I got divorced (just like him). I went almost bankrupt several times (just like him). I lost one home, then two (just like him). Nobody wanted to be my friend.

I sometimes was too much of an optimist (just like him).

I was HIM.

—

I had stopped paying my mortgage. I’d stopped returning calls from the IRS. I’d stopped trying to make something of myself.

A few years earlier, I had paid down my dad’s credit card. I helped him buy a new house. But he forgot to tell my mom that I helped. And now things were different.

“Can I borrow $1,000?” I said.

My mom said (while my dad stayed silent), “We’ve been paying for you all your life. If we lend now, when will it stop? You’ll borrow forever.”

I was scared. I had two babies. I had a 5,000-square-foot apartment in NYC. I was losing it. I was so scared.

From that roof I’d watched the World Trade Center collapse a year earlier and the black cloud come rushing to surround the entire building I lived in.

What a fool I’d been.

My mom yelling, “We’ll give you NOTHING!” My dad not saying anything.

I hung up the phone. I don’t know what I was thinking.

They called back but I didn’t pick up.

—

Seven months later I was in exile. I was living in upstate NY. Burnt out. Nothing to do.

My routine was: 5 a.m. basketball and watch the trains go by; 6 a.m., the local coffee shop opened and I played Scrabble; 9 a.m… nothing for the rest of the day.

I memorized all the seven-letter words. I once won a game with “ETESIAN” because I got the 50-point bonus and then my opponent challenged me and I got to go again.

My sister called one day and said my dad had had a stroke two days earlier.

I went to sleep really scared that night. I tried to find the bottom of that fear but I couldn’t.

The hospital store sold Teddy bears with “Get well” signs and I smelled cheese in the cafeteria but I hated cheese.

“Everything’s going to be OK,” said the doctor but then an hour later he said, “It’s not going to be OK,” and it was the first time in many times they wanted us to consider “making a decision.”

I saw my mom and sisters for the first time in seven months. You feel that awkwardness when there are so many layers of anxiety. Fear of death. Fear of saying hello.

They were crying. But I made them laugh.

Jokes!

—

People who didn’t know me kept saying, “You’re nothing like him.”

But I was scared.

After two years in a waking coma where he could only blink, his heart finally gave out and I got the call.

Inside of me is still that 13-year-old. Still terrified of betrayal. Still wanting attention and validation from others. Still afraid of what people think when they look at me.

Still afraid I’ll have a stroke. And be in a coma for two years.

At least now I know that 13-year-old is there. I know he’s always there.

My dad told me, “The only way to succeed in business is to be honest. Don’t ever lie.”

He told me about sales: “Don’t bring a presentation to a sales pitch because you don’t know yet what they really want.”

He told me, “Treat employees and customers like partners. And don’t ever gossip. People will always find out what you said.”

Still I was afraid of being just like him. I looked in the mirror and saw him. Today I looked in the mirror and I saw him.

But my dad died so long ago. And I am still alive.

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Bono Just Gave Me Advice

Bono stepped into the elevator of the hotel with four of his friends. I stepped toward the back.

Last night, I spoke at Scribd about the habits of billionaires. I wonder if they eat breakfast. I imagined my next taste of bacon. Mmmm.

The three of us already in the elevator moved over and made room. Bono stood right next to me.

He said, “Let’s all hold hands together and it will all be all right.”

Everyone laughed. I like how he turned the elevator crowd into a performance. That’s an art form.

I said to him, “No it won’t.”

He turned to me and laughed.

He and his friends started talking a bit.

We had 30 more floors to go. They said something and Bono leaned to me. “There are some strange people in this elevator,” and he pointed at his friends.

I said, “It might not be a good idea to make friends in elevators.” He laughed.

We landed on the first floor. Everyone piled out. Bono and I were in the back. He started to walk out.

Then he quickly turned to me and hugged me.

“It’s going to be all right.”

Then he rushed out of the elevator.

—

I told Robyn the story when she got to breakfast.

Keto breakfast. But then I had potatoes.

She said, “You should’ve asked him to come on your podcast!”

“Ugh, maybe you’re right. I was acting all cool. But maybe I didn’t want to seem like a salesman. People probably ask him to do things for them all the time.”

“Still,” she said.

—

But he reminded me.

Whenever I am stressed about something — if business is a mess one day, if I’m nervous on stage, if I’m late for an important appointment…

If someone in my family is upset at me. If I’m afraid about money, or I feel over-stressed about my schedule…

I always tell myself it’s going to be all right.

And I always feel relief. For a brief moment it always feels true. Like I just surrendered to the Force.

Still.

Like the mess of chemicals and emotions in my head, chest, stomach are all slurped up by the straw of a god. Straight out of the top of my head. Leaving me empty. Clean.

Because years later the world still spins, the people chatter and make their new faces. The troubles shift like Viewmaster images.

“Everything’s going to be all right,” Bono said and hugged me and I felt happy.

Still.

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