Yeah...I'm a Jerk

So...sorry for the unannounced sabbatical from the blog. Won't happen again.

Anyway, just dropping by to say that I should back on my once-a-week schedule, so if you haven't totally given up on me, check back later this week. Should have something new.

But real quick, I'm embarking on a rough week. Well, a rough three weeks. But it's songs like this coming up on Pandora late at night when I know the birds might be chirping before I get to sleep that keep me going. Thanks Pandora. If you were a lady I would totally marry you. And your ring would be huge. And we'd honeymoon in Portugal. I mean if you're cool with that. Unless you've already been there. Actually, I'll let you pick where we go. Unless you say a cruise. A cruise sounds boring. Really, you picking a cruise may indicate that you're not the right one for me after all.

But I digress.

Here's a link to the song. It's called "In All the Wrong Places". Discretion dictated the erasing (erasure?) of about 4 jokes that I just typed. I suggest listening to it. It has no words. And it's not by Erasure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mN-AHnDjG0

Kim + Mike = Comedy Superbaby

Kim and Navy Lieutenant Mike are two of the funniest people I know. And they’re both fellow MBAers.

Kim sits in the front row. That pic is Kim with her husband. Kim says things only she can say cuz she’s a cutie. And the things she says are many times a bit snarky. But she says them in such a way that really, all you can do is laugh. Cuz she’s Kim. And she’s rad. She’s the first person I’ve met that I feel could actually get away with murder. The police burst in. She’s standing there with a bloody knife over a corpse and growing pool of red. She looks at the cops and says, “Wow, I killed the hell out of that guy,” and everyone has a good laugh and sends her on her way.

Navy Lieutenant Mike sits the back row. I’m not sure whether he or Kim has sent the class into hysterics more. Mike speaks up when he disagrees with the professor. His responses are effortless, spontaneous, and painfully funny. And the professor usually doesn’t come out looking all that good. He has a way of using the prof’s own argument against them. Almost Socratic. He can do it cuz he’s super bright. My buddy Joe pointed this out to me. Joe sits next to him. Joe used to always tell me how Mike would whisper to him a couple of times in every class and just crack him up. So I tried sitting by him once last year. In Business Communications. It’s true. Within 5 minutes I’d wet my pants I was laughing so hard. Wet pants were just as uncomfortable as I’d remembered them being when I was 3. I don’t have a picture of Navy Lieutenant Mike so here’s Charlie Sheen and some dude in Navy Seals.

This is frustrating. I simply cannot express how funny these two are. I tried to think of examples but I just have vague recollections of my eyes tearing up while trying to keep composure in class. Maybe this one…last Wednesday…

Professor: I don’t want to just give you the answers.
Kim (deadpan): But it’s just so much easier that way.

Kim is about to have a baby. Pretty much any day now. And I’m secretly disappointed that Navy Lieutenant Mike isn’t the father. You know how we’re all pretty sure that Andre Agassi’s and Steffi Graf’s kids are basically going to just be tennis robots? Same thing. I think Kim and Mike would raise Jerry Seinfeld or Dave Chappelle.

Anyway, Sam had pointed out in the comments that I didn’t include Kim as a Hot Accountant Girl. I didn’t know she accounted. But she certainly meets the criteria. And thinking about Kim made me think about funny MBAers which made me think about Navy Lieutenant Mike. I figured that a blog detailing their exploits would be hilarious. But reading back on it, it really didn’t come together. Unfortunately, it’s already that time of year when I really can’t give any assignment/paper/blog post more than one shot. So this will have to do.

Incidentally, I would like to thank Jared (our University of Utah GBSA co-chair and fan of hated rival BYU (where he got his undergrad)) personally for his Brigham Young University (BYU) Cougars drawing attention to themselves only to humiliate the Mountain West Conference (MWC) in front of the entire nation. See, Utah plays sports in the MWC. In football in particular, the MWC is institutionally disadvantaged. I’ll spare you the details but basically we are given less money and respect than other conferences, which if you don’t know, are groups of schools.

For the last few years, Utah has been carrying the banner for the entire MWC. We’re the only team in the BCS era with two undefeated seasons in football. The only non-BCS team to go to two BCS games. That’s as many as every other non-BCS school combined. We won them both. That’s as many BCS wins as the Atlantic Coast Conference who gets to send a team every year. We’re also the only school ever to have a #1 NFL and NBA draft pick in the same year. If none of this makes sense to you, I’m intentionally being vague. Explaining this would take an entire blog. But if you want me to explain I will. In fact, I’m a freak for this and would wet my pants again if someone actually wanted me to tell them about it.

Anyway, Utah struggles alone. The other schools in the conference are not all that competitive with the rest of the country. BYU especially. BYU is in our conference. While Utah digs in its heels and strains in a futile tug-of-war with the powers that be, BYU holds loosely on the rope with one hand and picks its belly button with the other. To illustrate, BYU had zero wins in its last 12 football games against top 25 non-conference opponents.

Until a couple of weeks ago. They beat Oklahoma. On the road. #3 in the nation Oklahoma. Holy crap. They picked up the rope! They’re going to pull! The entire country is watching them now! So what do they do?

They lose. They lose 54-28 to Florida State. At home. Sigh.

Most headlines used variations on the words “exposed” and “humiliated”.

Thanks Cougars. Go back to your belly buttons.

WorkNet…Network…Get it? I didn’t.

This entry is about WorkNet. About a minute ago I was thinking, “WorkNet. That’s kind of a lame name.” Then I realized it’s “network” flipped around and now I’m thinking, “I’ve heard the term a million times and just now figured that out. I'm an idiot.”

WorkNet is this program run by the MBA office where groups of students go and meet big shots in the business world. And I mean big shots. They are taking a trip to Cincinnati in the next couple of months and are going to a Reds game with one of the owners. Then they’re going to meet the CEO of P&G. As in Proctor & Gamble. As in $81.7 billion dollars of sales in 2008. These guys are not unimportant individuals.

In addition to out-of-town trips, they arrange in-the-town trips. Friday we went to Miller Motor Sports Park. The late Larry Miller, Utah’s version of JD Rockefeller, loved cars. He collected Cobras and wanted to build a racetrack that he and his family could race around on. But, like hobby projects tend to do, things got out of hand. What started as a $10 million dollar course turned into a $115 million dollar state-of-the-art motor sports park.

It was excellent. Among others we got to meet the managing director, John Larson, and Larry Miller’s son, Bryan. Bryan is amazing genuine and down-to-earth. I totally wouldn’t be if I were him. I’d be a snobby jerk. He took us around and showed us the entire complex, including his Dad’s collection of cars that I now want.

And the place was cool. Have you seen Dr. Strangelove? Know the war room? And that big round table? They have one of those! I sat at it! It was probably 20 feet across. And as I’m sitting at it I’m overlooking a 4.5 mile road course watching motorcycles race around. From John Larson’s office we could watch the off-roaders jumping around in the dirt. It’s even better than Excitebike led me to believe.

I’m not one to blow smoke. If I think something is lame or useless, I’m not going to say otherwise. Most likely, I just won’t way anything at all. So when I say this was a great time, I mean I really had a great time. The place was great, the people were great, the experience was great. And insightful. Business-wise, there’s a lot going on. The place is literally world class in market that knows nothing about motor sports. And one that’s buried in snow for a large portion of the year. How do you make a viable race venue business out of that? Creatively, I imagine.

So WorkNet…been to one so far and loved it. Gonna try some more.

I need to remedy something. Last year I wrote about the Hot Accounting Girls. There was a glaring omission. I found out last week that my buddy, Ashley, has an emphasis in accounting. For the record, she’s also into health care administration, which I assumed was all she was into. Anyway, had I known last year that she was an accountant, she would have been included with the likes of Jen and Jessie. Ashley is freckly which absolutely busts me into pieces. I think it stems from the crush I had on Cheetarah when I was 8. Anyway, Ash, sorry I left you off. You are one hot Thundercat.

Prof. Schaefer and Paula...Selfish Jerks (not really)

Last week we had a one day orientation for second year MBA students. Panels, resume review, housekeeping…good stuff. As part of it, they had Scott Schaefer, my economics professor from last year, speak to us on the state of the economy. Listening to him reminded me how ticked I was at him.

See, I was supposed to be taking a course from him this semester, but I got an email earlier this summer explaining that he had been promoted to Associate Dean of Academic Affairs. This meant the course was dropped. Crap. I was looking forward to it. I couldn’t even tell you what the course was, I just knew I wanted to take a course from him.

Schaefer’s a great professor. He’s able to walk you through very complex concepts and make them totally understandable. If my life was an action movie and the guy in the airport control tower was on the radio talking me through landing the plane because the pilot had been killed, well, I’d want Prof. Schaefer to be the guy in the tower talking me through it. The man knows how explain things.

(I originally had him talking me through disarming a bomb, not landing a plane. Still not sure I went with the right analogy.)

Anyway, I learned a lot from Prof. Schaefer. This is not to suggest I did well in his class. I did not. In fact, grade-wise, it was my worst class. I’m hard pressed to remember having done that poorly on a final since Japanese class my sophomore year in high school. I’m not giving anyone in Tokyo directions any time soon. Still, I want to learn from Prof. Schaefer. He's crazy smart. You can tell. When you ask him a question, he'll pause, look up, and you can just feel the gears in his head spinning. We're not talking simple gears. Large, important gears like in Big Ben.

So I’m ticked. Apparently, it’s more important to him to advance his career, provide better for his family, and guide the direction of the entire program than to teach me whatever the hell I signed up for. That’s just selfish.

Speaking of selfish, I need to give a shout out to Paula Crow. I take that back. I think the term “shout out” is stupid. I need to acknowledge my former academic advisor Paula Crow. She is leaving to pursue a Masters in a Communications. I’ll miss Paula. I decided I would be attending the U roughly 10 seconds before orientation. When I showed up totally unprepared in jeans and Tshirt on a day when I was supposed to be wearing a suit, she tolerated all my crap and disorganization with a patient smile. And she’s been nothing but sweet and wonderful ever since. In fact, she’s the one that has me doing the blog. But, like Schaefer, she’s putting her designs on self improvement and fulfillment above my desire to have her to around to say hi to every once in a while. Jerk.

So I’d like to wish these two luck. Jerks.

Unrelated...It occurs to me that was probably the last summer vacation I’ll ever have. Granted I didn’t do much. Mostly worked on my internships. I did go to NYC to be a godfather. I’m not religious but am part Italian, so they let me do it. Which may have been a mistake. Check it out. This picture is the exact second little Tony (named after me, sweet) got baptized. Check out my eyes. I think I’m a demon. Yipes.

Anyway, I can’t decided whether I should be happy or bummed that I’ll never have another summer vacation. So when in doubt, celebrate. Here’s my celebration song (this week). Puts me in a good mood. If you seeing me driving 90 miles an hour singing to myself, there’s a good chance this is playing in my car.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q4MXFOMpVIw

I'm Famous Part II...Even More Famous

So I told you I’d let you know when the video of me talking about the David Eccles School of Business was posted. I lied. Apparently it’s been up for a couple of months or something. Anyway, here it is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aX2m2IXrDJU

But before you watch, some disclaimers. The video seems to emphasize the fact that, at times, my eyes don’t look symmetrical. Or that maybe both halves of my face are slightly offset. Well, they’re not. My nose is crooked. I broke it when I was 9. Well, I didn’t break it. My Dad broke it. We went 4Wheeling and I did fine riding on my own. But my Dad wanted to go with me and drove us into a dry riverbed. In his defense, he honestly thought we could clear it. Not in his defense, he was a fool and there was no chance in hell we were going to clear it.

Anyway, it actually healed crooked and they had to re-break it to straighten it. You want tickly, itchy torture? Try bandages that cover your nostrils and never come off for 3 weeks. It was hell. And as you’ll see, I have big nostrils. (Wow, I’ve already written “hell” twice in this blog. I’ve come back from summer all saucy.) They told me then that if I hit my nose again before I was 16 to come back because it would probably go crooked and they could reset it. About 2 weeks after I got the bandages off, my older sister pulled my face down onto her knee all Hacksaw Jim Duggan style. And that was just the first of a steady stream of incidents that spread my nose all over my face. So I didn’t go back and resigned myself to looking like a Roman boxer. Or a Picasso.

Incidentally, I’m trusting Google that the pic is a Picasso. If it’s not, let me know. An art scholar I’m not. Unless Bob Ross counts. Watched him religiously as a kid. Happy little trees. Half painter, half philosopher, all afro.

Another disclaimer. I’m apparently boring. I’ve only shown this video to one person, my friend Brittany. About a minute into it she asked if she could check her Facebook. Then she started skipping forward through the video. She did, however, giggle a little at the end when they had me talk about this blog.

Maybe it would be better if you just watched the 3 others they interviewed...Jarum, Varun, and Nana. I spoke way too quickly and frenetically. You can actually understand what these three are saying. Please watch at least one, though, so this blog conveys something about the program and not just something about my busted up face.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YDZpD2PnVU&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MEitozK5Vy8&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsB9eMFdtXU&feature=related

In retrospect, I should have taken this opportunity to talk about Jarum, Varun, and Nana. But I wrote all about it me. Narcissistic. Oh well, I’m not going to rewrite it.

Did Someone Say Moustache?

Chris indicated to me, via the comments section, that he was concerned the photo of him accompanying the post about his financial prowess portrayed him as less than manly. So here he is at Ragnar. All man. All the time.

For the record, instead of “moustache” in the header of this post, I should have used a term that starts “po…” and ends with “…rn ‘stache”. But I’m worried that might get me firewalled.

DESBMBA...All G-Rated, all the time.

Running Utes. Sweaty, Tired, Sore, Running Utes.

A while ago I mentioned that Jessie (who, along with getting into the Lassonde Center, has already landed a job upon graduation. God, I hate her. Hate her with me. We’ll hate her together) organized a team to run the Wasatch Back Ragnar relay. Basically, 13 of the other MBAers ran about 200 miles straight, relay style. That is ridiculously macho. Way to represent for the U MBA kids. So here’s a bunch of pics of my classmates who I think are just awesome. And no, I didn’t run. When I exercise, I prefer to take my life into my own hands. And I’m not talking eating-at-the-suspect-taco-cart taking my life into my own hands. I’m talking mountain biking with much better riders while being naturally blessed with no balance whatsoever. But I digress.

That's Ashley running at night. She is so not afraid of the dark. I've never written about Ash. I'll have to one of these days. She's the sweetest spelunker ever.

And that's Filip passing the baton off to Jarum who is, apparently, harnessing the wrath of the gods.

BTW...I should not say anything bad about the taco carts. I’ve eaten there hundreds of times and only gotten sick once which, I feel, is a totally acceptable ratio. You can’t go wrong with the cart in the south parking lot of Sears on 8th South and State Street. There are two in that parking lot, actually. Go to the one on the east end, not the south end. The eastenders were first. I used to drive by there every day on my way to work and remember vividly when the southenders started showing up. It got ugly fast. For a while there they were both simultaneously blaring music over each other. Dueling fiestas. That’s the problem when your brick and mortar is actually wheels and a trailer hitch. Competition can set up shop in your backyard. Sears, incidentally, seemed ambivalent to the whole thing. It's been dying a slow death there for 15 years. Mariachi requiem.
Check out this picture of Yogesh. Eye of the Tiger? This picture is so that song. That is a look that hits 3 out of 4 at the dunking booth.

Next to him is Sam getting shot out of cannon.

"Brick and Mortar”. That’s a term I heard for the first time when getting my MBA. It’s a clever way to refer to a physical place. I mean, it’s kinda clever. Of course here in Utah, instead of brick and mortar it’s more like stucco and…uh…stucco. Variety is the devil’s plaything. No, I exaggerate. Salt Lake is a beautiful city. Uniformity only really festers in some of the sub-divisions. They can be very Edward Scissorhands sans the cool hedge sculptures.

I don't know what Filip did to justify a judo chop from Robert, but I don't imagine that Filip survived.

On a Utah Culture note, Moroni got struck in the face by lightning. Utah has a bunch of Mormons. It was founded by Mormon settlers. We have lots of Mormon temples. Each Mormon temple has a gold statue at the top of it. The statue is the same on each one. It’s an angel named Moroni blowing a horn. Apparently, Moroni will blow the horn at the end of the world. Basically, it's dinner bell for the apocolypse. So if you’re driving by a Mormon temple, roll down your windows and listen. If you hear a horn blow…well, roll’em up.

Anyway, one of these statues got struck in the face by lightning. My knee jerk reaction was to call all my Mormon buddies and warn them that they might be barking up the wrong tree. But it occurs to me, those statues are basically lightning rods. I’ve lived here my whole life and this is the first time I’ve heard about one of them getting hit. The fact that those aren’t struck a dozen times every storm is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe these Mormons are onto something.

Incidentally, I think Microsoft’s spellcheck recommendations for Moroni are downright offensive. In a row… Moronic, Moron, Maroni, Morons. That is not nice.

Here's Aline with Dan's belly. Everyone's a winner.

Will Wonders Never Cease?

…I got an internship. Two of them actually. Started last week. Y’know what I just found out is my favorite thing in the world? Waking up. More specifically, waking up with no alarm clock. Like when nature intends me to wake up. And for me, it involves a few of those wake up, roll over, and slide back into sleep maneuvers. So nice. I had about a month where I got to do that every day. Then go to the gym. I hear people say if they didn’t have jobs they would just go crazy. What has two thumbs and would NOT go crazy? This guy.

But anyway, I have now committed myself to 55 hours of work a week for the rest of the summer. It’s good though. These internships are good news for me. I found one through Utah CareerLink and one through good old-fashioned David Eccles School of Business networking. I hate that word. Networking. It suggests to me that the only reason I want to know someone is because the relationship will somehow benefit my career. Which is lame. And I would be friends with Varun even if he didn’t get me an internship. But he totally got one for me. A good one. Thanks Varun. You are my favorite DESB grad. And that’s saying a lot because one of my best poker buddies graduated from the program a few years ago. I think the program frowns on gambling so I should point out that when we play poker we bet buttons. And cupcakes.

I want to mention that Varun hooked me up after we finished taping for a video that’s going to run on the DESB website. When they post it, I’ll let you know so you can see me in my internet debut. There are three guys and I’m whichever one you think is the most handsome. No seriously, I’m the one that looks like he’s on your nephew’s T-ball team. I’m 32 and look like I’m 17. I got carded for a Rated R movie when I was 30. And I was with a girl at the time. Emasculation seems to be a theme in this blog.

Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John just came on over Pandora. I love this song.

The only bit of a bummer is that both internships may want to me to continue working part time through the school year. Ug. Last year was a killer and I had no job, let alone 2. I’m banking on the rumors that the workload eases up a bit during the second year. Of course, most people probably don’t pick electives that they know they will find baffling. Like advanced finance stuff. Oh well. Too bad, too. I was actually doing really well grade-wise. It amazing what you can accomplish when, unlike most of your classmates, you have no spouse, no family, no job, and English is your first language. Grades are pretty low on my list of priorities, but I’m not looking forward to watching them tank.

Actually, I was planning watching them tank regardless. I’m going to take this opportunity to tell you about the Lassonde program. Utah has this amazing program that any potential students should really look into. Basically, a ton of research is done at the U (that’s what locals call the University of Utah…the U. Sorry Miami, your nonsensical logo may be the shape of a U, but Miami Hurricanes lacks the sheer “U” power that the Utah Utes carry. We’re fine sharing, but it’s clear that you aren’t. Luckily, you haven’t been particularly relevant recently so it’s easy not to care what you think. Wow, I’m snippy tonight.)

But I was talking about the Lassonde Program. Long story short, Lassonde takes business, engineering, medical, etc. students…teams them up…and has them investigate and develop business applications for technologies developed in the research arms of the school. Market size, business plans, financing, marketing...all the fun stuff. And it’s for real. Real money. Real business. Real opportunity. Amazing, amazing program. Having said that, they didn’t want me. I did not make the cut. I was bummed. And surprised. I shouldn’t have been. My classmates are bright, ambitious, and awesome. I don’t know who all made it into the program from my class, but I know who applied and there is no shame in losing a spot to anyone.

I did however, remind Jessie about applying. And she got in. I hate her.

Anyway, I was planning on doing Lassonde during my second year so instead I’ll do my internships. And my one internship does almost exactly what I would be doing in Lassonde. So right on. I’m cool with it. Except for stupid Jessie stealing my stupid spot. Brat.

BTW... the fact that Prof. Schallheim's son commented on my last post made my whole summer.

My Hero...Sigh

See this guy? This is Chris. Followers of the blog may recognize him as the GQ guy fleeing the scene of the gas leak. He’s my hero. FDR, Bill Russell, Hugh Hefner…make room for one more. See, Chris and I took Cases in Financial Analysis together. I passed. In fact I did well. Because of Chris. ONLY because of Chris. He was in my group. And I don’t think any of my other groupmates would be offended if I asserted that he was pretty much our entire group.

He carried us. Well, at the very least he carried me. And I feel bad about that. I feel like I was just a weight around his neck all semester. I wanted to understand and he always patiently explained. But I was like the kid who is kicking and punching the lifeguard in the face as he’s being dragged from the pool. I’m sure it would have been so much easier for Chris if I had just resigned myself to the fact that I was being rescued and gone limp. Or really, if I hadn’t jumped in at all.

I’ve been Chris. In my undergrad, I’ve totally been the Chris. There were certain subjects I seemed to catch onto pretty easily and scholarship pressure had me pretty motivated to succeed. So I’ve carried the group. I just never thought I’d be on the other end of that. But I was in this class. It was awful.

This class I’m talking about, Cases in Financial Analysis, turned out to be one of my favorite classes by far. Dan said he wished he could take the class again and I totally agree. It’s basically a David Lynch movie. First time around you are exposed to great stuff, but you know there are depths that you are just not diving deep enough to reach. Chris is swimming around down there. Aline, too. But not me. I’m in the shallow end with floaties and earplugs. Still, I learned SO MUCH. (See that? I capitalized it. I must be serious.) This class gave weight to my MBA. It made me feel like I know business. Like I know it more than the day-trader scientists I play poker with. Beyond the mechanics or theory that anyone can just look up. This class gave me real insight. Real analysis and valuation skills. Real understanding. I totally have a crush on this class.

Dr. Schallheim, my professor, was great. For one, we had a dunking booth at the end of the year at some festival thing and Schallheim was handed a ball, turned, and nailed it. No prep, no hesitation. Got’er done. What a stud. But if he parents anything like he teaches, I feel for his children. Seems like his idea of swim lessons would be tossing the kids in the pool and diving in after them just before they drown. That was the class. He frequently left us to our own devices when working cases. Lots of mistakes, lots of “wasted” time, lots of frustration, lots of learning. Classes like that are great on one condition. Don’t have more than one per semester. If you have a schedule full of Schallheim and Schmidt, well, good luck with that.

Lots of aquatic references in this post.

One more thing. Why Yogesh, a guy in my class, is just rad…he’d thrown 8 balls at the dunking booth. Missed all 8. Some quite badly. He shook his fists, clenched his eyes shut, and declared for all to hear, “My blood is boiling!” Then he bought 4 more balls. Hit, hit, miss, hit. Well done, Yogesh.

Know what? Aline's gonna be pissed when she sees I cropped her out of the pic.

Well, I’d better get back to looking for an internship. And yes, it’s probably too late. Crap. I’m assuming no one will be reading this over the summer so I’ll probably stop posting until the fall. But it appears they’ll have me doing this again for year 2 so if you enjoyed reading it, check back. And if anyone has any questions or issues they’d like me to blog about over the summer, leave a comment. I have a feeling I may end up with an uncomfortable amount of time on my hands.

Darned Kids with Your Music

It sounds as though people in the program are starting to read this blog. Eep. I guess I’m not going to run the “Professor So-and-So is a Complete and Total Ass” post. I want to make something clear, even though Jen told me not to. “It will ruin your rebellious and ruggedly manly mystique,” she said. Maybe those weren’t her exact words, but I know that’s what she meant in her heart. Anyway, the school asked me to do this blog as part of my assistanceship with the MBA office. I only bring this up because I don’t want people thinking I feel like everyone needs to hear the stuff my brain craps out. So Sam, as much as I’d like to follow your suggestion and talk about Dan and the furries, I really can’t in this forum. All I will say is that I always thought of Dan as a bunny. Turns out he’s a squirrel. Who knew? Isn’t that bushy tail just a nuisance?

One would think that a week before all my giant projects were due and 2 weeks before I face waking up with no school and no internship, I’d be working on those things. Not so. I chose to indulge in University-Related-Extra-Curricular good times. First, Grand Kerfuffle. Holy crap. Spellcheck just fixed “kerfuffle” for me. But now it’s telling me that that’s not how you spell “spellcheck”. Odd. Anyway, Grand Kerfuffle is an annual out-in-cold campus concert. Girl Talk opened for Lupe Fiasco. Kick. Push. Coast.

Good show, but disturbing. Kids these days. I heard that the 80s had come back, but I had no idea. Pinks, yellows, neon greens…all striped together. Ill fitting tops. Stretchpants. Dear Lord. It’s what all the kids are wearing. And I totally know why. They’re not old enough to remember the first time this tragedy took place. Flock of Seagulls, Qbert…meaningless to them. So they don’t understand the pain of looking back and remembering you once wore that stuff. Pictures of me from 5th and 6th grade no longer exist. I made sure of that. No one wants to see me rocking my Miami Vice pink/grey look. Crockett and Tubbs rolled up into 75 lbs. of skinny white kid was completely against God’s plan. It’s ok, though. I was the cutest toddler ever and my parents had me in leisure suits up through 3rd grade. So there are plenty of cute little Tony pics out there. And no, that's not me in the green. That's Girl Talk.

And with digital media and Facebook and MySpace and the interweb and all, well, stuff doesn’t disappear anymore. So don’t do it. Don’t wear that stuff. Especially if you’re a guy. One day, your son’s not going to care that your clothes were hip. He’ll see the pics and all he’ll know is that one day his Dad woke up and thought, “I think I go with turquoise today. Oo, and hot pink!” There’s only one person I know that can pull off super colors, and that’s Samantha. Hi Sam! And I’m sorry everyone else, but you are no Sam.

So the concert was Wednesday. We also had an Attitude Adjustment on Friday. I wrote about them once before. This one was uneventful relative to the last one. Let’s just say the after-party of the prior Adjustment involved the cops and we all learned a valuable lesson. That pilot that landed the plane the water? Is he a hero? Turns out that the real hero is me. But that's a different story.

But one thing I want to reiterate about the Attitude Adjustments is that they are paid for by Dean Brittain. Thousands of dollars, I’m sure. And he’s leaving! We’ll miss you Dean Brittain. And not just because of the free booze. I mean, a lot because of the free booze, but not totally because of the free booze.

I must say, I'm really enjoying the contrast between the Dean Brittain pic and the Girl Talk pic.

Made-Up MBA word of the week…"imitability". Frankly, it’s stupid that that isn’t a real word. I just used two "that"s in a row. Can I do that? Again, English majors, we ain’t. Thank you, Jen, for that.

My Classmates...How I Hate Them

So I need to write about Jen. She is my bff in the program. My bmbaf, I suppose. And as long as I’m writing about Jen, I need to write about Jessie. One of my other MBA friends. These ladies are hags. Hot Accountant Girls. It’s a very interesting phenomenon. I discovered it in my undergraduate career. Accountant women are just knockouts. A dozen years ago in my undergrad it was Allison and Stacy. Now it’s Jen and Jessie. Even the one MACC (Masters of Accounting) student I know, Lauren, is crazygorgeous. Yes, I meant that as one word.

God’s cruel joke, really. Their poor boyfriends. Sure, someday your wife will be beautiful. But eventually you have to ask her about her day. Then it’s “debit” this and “credit” that. Oy. Talk about a Catch 22. Listening to that’s gotta be a kick in the teeth. I’ll take the homely sportscaster or peg-legged brewmaster any day.

I kid.

Jen (the blonde) and Jessie (the brunette) are phenomenal individuals, really. Jen heads up the MBA Womens Association. I don’t know the exact name of her group and I don’t care. Ouch. That wasn’t nice. I suppose I’m bitter because she picked the one group I can’t join. Where I’m persecuted for my parts. Some bmbaf she turned out to be. Jessie put together an MBA Wasatch Back Team. The Wasatch Back is a 24 hour relay super marathon race thingy. If you like running up mountains in the middle of the night, boy howdy, does Jessie have just the thing for you.

Anywho, point is, they’re awesome little overachievers. Which comes to why I hate my classmates. They’re all awesome little overachievers. They keep showing up to class in suits and pantsuits. I know what they’re up to. Interviews. Jobs…internships…silently, they’re snatching them all up. I learned to stop asking about their plans for the summer. It’s depressing. “I’m interning at Goldman’s.” “I’m splitting time between a couple of startups.” “I’m going to China for a month and then coming back to chair the Fed.” Jerks. I should be working on that.

I register for classes tomorrow. One mandatory management course, a field study, two finance courses, and two information systems courses. Did I mention I’m in marketing? Hm. Not a whole load of marketing in that line-up. Isn't college the time for experimentation? It's Prof. Schaefer’s fault. The finance course I took from him was just a gateway course leading to harder, more dangerous finance courses. My HP 12c calculator is basically paraphernalia. It’s an after school special, really.

Made-Up MBA word of the week…”depercentalize”. English majors, we ain’t. We can thank Dan for that gem.

Prof. Austin...in 300 Words or Less

Bonita Austin teaches my Business Strategy class. She used to be a big city securities analyst. Senior Vice President at Lehman’s Bros, among other impressive things. But she missed the open spaces where she could ride her horses and train her show dogs. So she traded in the power lunches to be a professor. Now she’s pulling hay out her hair minutes before facing down 65 graduate students. Basically, she’s a character out of a chick flick. …strong, successful woman taking on new life to follow her heart. Shouldn’t Harry Connick Jr. be the janitor or something? (I don’t have a pic of Prof. Austin, so here’s the trifecta of chick flick crap I’ve had to endure in the last few months.)



There’s a very tricky element to Prof. Austin’s class, the Position Outline (or PO as the hipsters call it). We have to write up 4 POs over the course of the half-semester. These are 300 word case write-ups. The key here is “300”. Verrrrrry short. When I first read about the 300 words I thought, “Sweet.” No. Not sweet. Not sweet at all. Sour, actually. Some of my classmates have spent their 20+ years of life mastering a sort of refined eloquence. For them, I’m sure 300 words is no problem. Me, I’m all about barely coherent rambling. I drop 300 words in about 4 seconds. So POs and I don’t get along. I write out my thoughts but by the time I wrestle them down to 300 words, the mangled corpse of a paper that remains bears no resemblance to what I intended. “…competitive advantage good barriers to entry purple monkey dishwasher.” …and words like “the” and “a” never make the final cut.

So the POs are tough, but they force you to be succinct. Which is good. And they force you to choose between a myriad of issues and focus on just a couple. Which is also good, especially for someone like me. It’s interesting because so much of the class is just common sense, but it’s surprising how many elements of a situation one misses when thinking about things. This is a core class and that’s good. I think it will make us all better business professionals.

If you’re one who worries about grades, word of advice. Sit on the right side of the classroom in Prof. Austin’s class. Participation is 1/4th of the grade and her hair sometimes falls over her left eye. I’m convinced that Brittany doesn’t get called on because peripheral vision doesn’t exist when it comes to the left side of the room. Got to get out from behind the blonde curtain. Besides, all the cool kids sit on the right. It’s like the back seat of the school bus.

Speaking of the cool kids, we 1st years beat the 2nd year and MACC students in the annual basketball game. We rule the school. (When I say “we” beat them, I should point out that “we” is not “me.” I played basketball in 8th grade and scored 2 points all season. That’s my career.) Apparently Dmitri hit the game winner. Hardwood assassin. It has come to light over the course of the year that our class is so much better than all of the other classes at absolutely everything.

300 words exactly. (Not even close.)

Dmitri, in the Student Lounge, with the Candlestick

Since I’ve written about professors, it occurs to me I should probably write about classmates. They are people, too. And what better place to start than the international students? My class holds folks from all kinds of strange and exotic places…China, India, Russia, Brazil, Taiwan, Thailand, Wisconsin, Poland, Czech Republic, and Georgia (the country, not the peaches.) Granted, you have to sift through a lot of white bread like me to find them, but they’re there.

We’ll start with the Brazilian. Our resident Brazilian, Aline ((uh-LEE-nee) I have no idea how to spell things phonetically) is…well…you know that stereotypical view of Brazilian women as beautifully fit girls dancing around on Carnival floats? Aline does nothing to dispel this stereotype. So what type of man gets a lady like Aline? Two words. Pediatric Neurosurgeon. Her husband is a pediatric neurosurgeon. If I ever pull a George Costanza and lie about my career to impress strangers, I’m not going with architect, I’m going with pediatric neurosurgeon. You could introduce yourself by saying, “I’ve dedicated my life to saving children,” or “I’m a brain surgeon.” Either way, you’re golden. Pediatric vs. Marketing. Neuro vs. Data. Surgeon vs. Analyst. Every aspect of what he does is so much more impressive than every aspect of what I do. Grrrrrrrrrr.

Then there’s Dmitri, the Russian. He’s straight out of a Guy Richie movie. Best dressed guy in class by far. Jackets, hats, scarves, hip shirts…he’s got it all. Total slightly formal Eurochic. Just enough to make the every other guy in the class look like a complete no-style Neanderthal. I can’t decide if he’s a spy or an assassin. He's just too laid back. Too sophisticated. This is no MBA student. What’s more, I can’t decide who in the class he is spying on or planning to kill. I worry about David. Dmitri’s always sitting right behind him. If Dave goes missing and Dmitri suddenly drops out of class, remember that I called it.

Both Dmitri and Aline share the same two characteristics I find in every single international student. Super friendly and super smart. Without exception, I find this to be the case. It’s to the point that if you look like you’re from around here, I’m probably assuming you’re a little dim. That was a joke. But if you look you’re from around here and you’re wearing a Cowboys jersey, well…

I'm Famous!

Totally famous. See this picture? Cover of the Utah Chronicle on Tuesday. Like front cover. Page A1. Granted, that particular publication only has, like, 4 pages. Still. So see the guy on the far right in the dark orange jacket holding an invisible basketball? Totally me. Me leaving the library. There was a gas leak and the entire campus was evacuated. That’s me fleeing. I’m a little bummed though. If you look a couple of guys to the left, you’ll see my buddy Chris. Hand in pocket, head turned, sunglasses on…how did he end up being all GQ and I ended up being the ballboy?

Being famous is hard. I must have signed a hundred copies of that thing yesterday.

I guess it was pretty serious. The gas actually bubbled the asphalt. People could see the gas blowing through the grass. Craziest thing, though, was the news coverage when I got home. They had a helicopter filming down on the guys fixing the leak. I would expect them to have oxygen tanks and fire proof suits. Nope. Hard hats, levis, sleeves rolled up. That’s a Ford commercial if I ever saw one.

Those people around me in the picture are my group members. That’s us getting prematurely pulled away from working on a group paper. So Dr. Schallheim, if we missed the boat on what bond rating Deluxe Corporation should target when setting their debt/equity ratio, it was the gas’s fault and not my utter incompetence in your class. Who knew I would be so clueless in finance?

The worst part, though, was that my 4 hour night class was cancelled. We’re making it up with an “extra long” class during finals week. Technically, 4 hours is already extra long. I’m pretty sure anything over 6 hours is considered a seminar. If that’s the case, I want some shwag. There better be free pens, mini Nerf balls, and laptop bags or I’m walking out.

Incidentally, I had my first internship interview last week. You know what they say…A journey of a thousand miles that I should have started months ago begins with a single step that I should have taken months ago.

I lied last week...and it worked out.

It was an honest mistake. I was late for class and forgot that the most direct route between my apartment and Business Strategy with Prof. Bonita Austin went straight through the campaign booths for student elections. I had intentionally been avoiding these folks all week. But I turned the corner and there they were. From a distance, they looked like a crowd of those giant M&Ms you see in commercials. See, each party picked a color and had Tshirts made. The Tshirts were the party’s color with some black writing. Every party supporter wore those shirts for, like, 3 weeks so that you knew which side they were on. Kinda reminded me of those huge capture-the-flag games at summer camp.

Anyway, on this particular day, there were only members of the green team and the yellow team. Apparently the orange team had been knocked out the week before in a primary election. I was fine with that. Their party name was “Synergy”. Synergy? Really? That’s such a used-up Kleenex of a buzz word from ten years ago. The yellow team was the “Go” party and the green team was the “Revolution” party. Shouldn’t the “Go” party have been green? I’m just sayin.

That’s a picture of me and a ladyfriend with one of the green team. Actually, I better not suggest that, being that I’m holding a yard of margarita. That was in Vegas. Why was I with a giant M&M in Vegas? It’s a story I love to tell but really doesn’t have anything to do with MBA school. So I’ll resist.

In defense of the ousted orange team, they gave me a fortune cookie. People used bagels, hot dogs, pancakes, and coffee to curry my vote. But I liked the fortune cookie best. I was hesitant to take it at the time. Not supposed to take candy from strangers. But I figure cookies aren’t really candy. I know, that’s dangerous thinking.

Anyway, back to my lies. I was late for my date with Prof. Austin and her Business Strategy class, so I really didn’t have time to listen to the yellow and green team spiels. So I lied. I told them I planned to vote for them. I told them I was already on their e-mail lists. I told them whatever I thought they wanted to hear. Just so long as I didn’t have to slow down or stop.

I got to class on time.

Completely unrelated…Here’s a study music recommendation. Go to http://music.aol.com/radioguide/indie-radio and click on any of the stations. That will get you into the player. Once there, in the drop downs on the left, go under Lite Sounds and select “Ambient”. Mostly instrumentals, but not relaxing. Very kinetic.

Y the U? Y not the Y?

So Cory (my favorite blog follower by far) asked why the University of Utah? Value, Location, Flexibility.

That’s the short answer. If it were only that easy. To be honest, Utah was not my first choice only because I got my undergraduate degree in marketing from here. I felt like I should use my grad school experience to gain a different perspective. But the University in Utah is in Utah, which is good for me because I’m planning to be in Utah for a while after I graduate. If I had left Utah for school, I had planned to return afterwards. So when choosing schools to which to apply, I wanted a local one. For me, there were two I could consider…Utah and (gasp) BYU.

BYU has a good program. But they are BYU, otherwise known as the Y. In my own defense, I went to a recruiting dealy down there. I knew ten minutes into the 2 hour session (I want my other 110 minutes back) that it was not my cup of tea. It’s a Mormon school. I’m not a Mormon. Got nothing against Mormons. Some of my best friends are Mormon. But the culture is very palpable on the BYU campus and I think I would leave a bad taste in Provo’s mouth. Honor code? Who is this man you call “Honor Code”? Their “can’t do” list reads like my Friday night.

So once the essays were written and interviews were conducted (I had to drive to Las Vegas for one…fun, but what a pain) it came down to Utah and a fancy outfit back East. The other school was in Pittsburgh. I went and visited. Fell in love with the town. Found an apartment 5 minutes from campus with a fireplace. And the school was pretty prestigious, especially in my field. Plus, I’ve never lived anywhere but Salt Lake. I’d like to. Not because I don’t like it here, just because I feel like it’s something I need to do. Test my mettle.

Long story short, I could not justify $110K in debt at 6.5%-8.5% for an education that was not going to get me any closer to a job in Utah than staying here would. Utah is a great school. Prestige for the money is unbeatable. And the program is flexible. This isn’t the University of Indiana. You can taste all the chocolates before picking one once you get into the real world. This was important because, when I was applying to schools, I was considering veering off the marketing road and onto the finance path. That was, of course, before the finance path led right to the toilet.

Did I make the right choice in schools? I’ll never know, really. But earlier today, and this is totally true, the Gambler was playing over the muzak in the bookstore. Hate country, but not old country. I was frantically glancing back and forth to make sure no one was around to hear me singing to myself. I’ve known those lyrics for over two decades. And on the other side of the binder shelf, I heard the woman behind information desk singing to herself, too. This is my kind of place.

Prof. Schmidt-You Know the Final Isn't Going Well When...

…you press “Enter” on your calculator and read .0000000674. And that’s supposed to be your answer. D’oh.
So that was my Production Operations Management final for you. A frustrating end to a frustrating class. But a good class. Can’t say I wasn’t warned. Prof. Schmidt told us on the first day we would get frustrated. He also said we would probably hate him. He was correct on the former, incorrect on latter. The more he taught, the more I liked him. He wanted you to think and forced you to do it. He’d give you hints but wouldn’t tell you the answers. It’s disaster for someone like me, who overcomplicates making an order at McDonalds, let alone calculating inter-arrival rates. But I learned a lot.
And he’s tall. Real tall. With loooong arms. I recall once he had reached up as high as he could to write something on the white board. As I (5’7”) left at the end of class, I remember walking by the board and looking up at what he had written. Remember when you were kid and you would put your chin on the outside wall of a really tall building and looked straight up? Remember that feeling of insignificance and vertigo? It was totally that all over again.
He’s bright. The year I finished my undergrad (I’m older than I look) he was wrapping up his PhD from STANFORD. Isn’t that the school that gets mentioned in the same breath and Harvard and MIT? Yeah, well, how many BCS Bowls have they been to? Oh snap. Anyway, I imagine Prof. Schmidt’s research is intense. When he’d doing equations on the board, he can pull some wicked arithmetic off the top of his head. Calculator-lever division.
And he’s stoic. He always has a bit of a grin on his face. Every once in a while we ask a question that demonstrates we’ve completely missed a vital point. I know that, on the inside, he dies a little…but he doesn’t show it.
One aspect of the MBA program that spices things up is the fact that I’m having finals in the middle of the term. There are a bunch of classes that only run for half semesters. Prof. Schmidt actually taught us the last half of the first semester and the first half of the second semester. So we had a full semester final the middle of mid-terms. This was really my toughest week of the year, worse than finals. I had a midterm last Thursday, a final on Monday, 2 on Tuesday, and a couple of classes that just trucked along meaning homework, reading, and studying. And relative to some, I got off easy. But it’s over and I did all right, outside of the comically incorrect answers I came up with on Schmidt’s test.
I’ll miss Professor Schmidt. I would take a class from him again in a second but probably won’t simply because Operations isn’t my focus. It’s probably for the best. I don’t want blood pressure to become an issue.
I noticed I got my first comment…thanks Cory. Feedback is surprisingly validating.

Prof. Cadman-He Makes Accounting Fun! No, that's Impossible

Easily the most impressive thing about the DESB MBA program so far for me has been the quality of the professors. They may be quirky. They may be a pain. But they’re all really bright. And I’ve learned a ton from them. So I think I’ll tell you a little about them as I go along.

We’re going to start with Brian Cadman, my Managerial Accounting professor, for four reasons. One, I spent all day yesterday studying for his final, two, I’m planning to spend most of today studying for his final, three, I missed an MC Hammer/Vanilla Ice show to study for his final and, four, after Tuesday I probably won’t ever have another class with him.

Cadman is a hoot. That picture is him. He's a young guy and totally excited about costing. I can tell he really likes his research. It is surprising because I always kind of thought accountants were just robots made to look like people. Truth is, the stuff is actually really interesting. I just hope none of my accounting friends read this. I would hate to lend any validity to their career choices. Apparently, too, Prof. Cadman is hot in a “dorky sort of way.” At least, that’s what the girls in class tell me. If he were going to be hot, I would think it would be because he does psychocross. Goes to show what I know.

He divulged in class that he made an attempt at entrepreneurialism, but it didn’t go so well. So, as he put it, “Those who can’t do, teach.” He’s funny. Like ha ha funny. And smart. I looked at his bio and he got his ungrad from Harvard (la dee da) and was faculty at Kellogg, Northwestern, and Wharton. So I listen to what he says. Too bad most of what he says involves accounting.

BTW…it’s ok to rip on accountants. They are the untouchables of the business school caste system. As a marketeer, I’m no Brahmin, but at least I’m no accountant.

Anyway, if you are a student or potential student and you get to take a class from Dr. Cadman, be excited. He genuinely wants you to learn and is totally accessible. My advice, too…keep up on your cases.

You read that right. MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice. If you think you’re too cool to go that, you’re not cool at all.

Dedication and Emasculation

Here’s a picture of our class. I’m the guy in the bottom right corner flexing. Those are guns. Fun story about this picture. It was taken during the first week when we’re all still meeting each other. We’re told to go stand on the steps and as we’re all standing there the photographer says, “Let’s get the shorter people to the front and the taller people in the back.” Really, we were already all assembled and we were on steps so we could all be seen...so no one moved. “Tony,” the photographer pipes up, “Why don’t you come down to the front here?” All right. No worries. I’m short. I’m game. But then……that was it. I was the move. Everyone else was apparently fine. But me. So as I’m wading through people to go stand with the ladies I couldn’t help but think, “My, this is slightly emasculating.” I got to go stand to next to Jessie, though, who’s way cute, so that was good. Sorry boys, she’s already taken. By the nicest guy ever. And apparently quite a bowler.
Unlike me. I’m a crappy bowler. But I want it known that my team (Yes I’m on a league, shut up) is playing for the championship next week and I won’t be there. I’m missing the last few weeks of the season for a night class. That is dedication. To education. I really would rather say “sacrifice” but dedication rhymes with emasculation and I think I’ll use that as this entry’s title.
So MBA stuff. There is a program called Board Fellows where you can sign up to sit as a non-voting member on the board of local non-profit. Great way to get insights into the whole dynamic of a board room and great way to meet people. I’m on a board and tonight I was at my non-profit's 20th anniversary gala sitting next to one of the owners of Gastronomy. Gastronomy runs a number of local restaurants and employs about 1,000 people. Good guy to get to sit next to and chat up for an evening. One of my buddies on the board also took me around and introduced me to a grundle of people. I suppose this is networking. I wasn’t giving out my card or anything, but it’s nice to meet people. Too bad I never remember names.
The entrée tonight was chicken. That was breaded. I was cautious.
Wish my luck on my Cases in Financial Strategy mid-term tomorrow. Won’t sugar coat it, it’s going to be a beast.

For Posterity...Cuz No one is Reading This

...well, except maybe my Mom. She might read this. Hi Mom! And apparently the undergraduate equivalent of me is also following along. Hi undergraduate equivalent! And some other person. Hi Mystery Person!

So I better finish the rubber band story, even though it was not much of a story. The luncheon itself was pretty useful. I was able to speak to a couple of local professionals that I had met at prior networking functions who, perhaps, are starting to remember me. I got some cards so I might give them a call when my internship hunt flips into high gear.......which it totally will.....any day now......really. Anyway, one of these professionals, Meghann, was speaking directly to me when I began chewing into something that rebounded and, like I said in my last post, tasted like burning. At some point a chunk of big, flat, blue rubber band must have fallen into the chicken breading. I just remember praying to God that whatever she was saying to me didn't end in a question. I needed to spit. Luckily some undergrad bullied their way into the conversation giving me a chance to spit into my napkin. Thank God it was just a rubber band. For I second I thought I was biting into hot death. But the chicken was quite good outside of the inorganic parts. And I stole, "Tastes like burning," from Ralph Wiggum.

That's the second time I typed that story out. Lesson #1, Don't Eat Rubber Bands. Lesson #2, Don't Accidentally Hit the "Page Back" Button or You Lose Everything You Just Typed. Now I'm in Word. Stupid Keyboard. That button is a ticking time bomb. I hate it so badly. And it’s, like, 2 feet from my alarm clock as I type. Which I also hate so badly. Lots to hate on my desk. But I love how I’m calling a folding table “My desk”.

Back to MBA stuff. Since the last post I helped judge the Utah Entrepreneur Challenge. It was a whole bunch of classmates and I, along with some undergrads, reading through a bunch of business plans for a couple of hours. Very interesting stuff. Lots of ambitious people and lots of cool research being done at the school. Excellent business opportunities.

Anyway, I just finished my busiest non-finals week so far, so I got to get to bed. Night.

Career Fair...I GOT HIRED! That's a lie.

Went to the Career Fair yesterday. The theme was “Due to the current economic climate, we are not…”. Or at least I think that is what it was. I imagine that is the case with career fairs everywhere right now. My focus was on getting a summer internship and I’m not being picky, so it was good to get a feel for who was looking. I need to spend a few hours this weekend getting online and applying. I’ll start with the shotgun approach, as many as I can…then go from there.
But I have some advice about job fairs. Have a system. Lots of booths. Lots of people. You would hate to walk up to someone and 30 seconds into talking to them realize that you came by and asked them about their company a half an hour earlier. Which I totally did. Twice. The second time, the guy looked at me like I was out of my mind. I could tell at first that he was trying to decide whether I was a complete idiot or whether he was just having wicked déjà vu. He didn’t say anything but I think he figured it out. Crap.
So have a system. Go to all the booths you want to see first. Stand in line and feel awkward if you have to. If you keep trying to “stop by” and find an available recruiter, you rarely will. Don’t feel awkward standing and waiting. They know why you’re there. By waiting you indicate interest. Anyway, once you’ve seen the booths you want to see, start at one end and work to the other. I kept trying to “stop by” booths and went back and forth the fair about a dozen times, mixed where I had and had not been and well, ended up being the idiot.
Gotta get back to studying. Production operations management mid-term tomorrow. I’m leaving this sentence as a reminder to myself to talk about the networking lunch I went to today. I learned a valuable lesson, rubber bands taste like burning and the taste doesn’t go away. I’ll explain next time.

Let's see how this goes...

This is my first time blogging so we'll see if this works. Welcome to the University of Utah David Eccles School of Business MBA student blog. Does this have spell check? It does. Excellent.

Some background on me. I got my undergraduate in Marketing at the University of Utah in 1998. I worked for 10 years for a national food brokerage doing marketing data analysis. Decided to come back to get my MBA. The building I take all my classes in now was built years after I left and the building I took all my classes in then is being torn down now. I've been out a while.

We are providing this blog to help anyone interested get a sense for the DESB MBA experience. And we'll start with last night...Attitude Adjustment. Every few weeks, the Dean of the Business School, Dr. Brittain, opens a tab at Lamb's Grill for the students, faculty, and any prospective students for what's called Attitude Adjustment. It's basically is just a chance to get together, relax, and socialize. Lamb's Grill is this wonderful old restaurant where all the politicians eat. If Salt Lake had a mafia, this is where they'd hang out. I always secretly hope to spot Paulie Walnuts or Uncle Junior in a booth, but they're never there. Anyway, there's sushi, cheese, beer, wine...good stuff. I was designated driver so I was hitting the ice teas pretty hard.

I love Attitude Adjustments because I get to talk to 2nd years, professors, and the few people in my class that I don't know well because we're not in groups together. Who knew Pete the back row was so cool? Last night was great because I got to talk to Bob Allen, my Financial Accounting professor from first semester. One of my favorite people ever. Funny, funny guy. Total storyteller. Learned a lot in that class. Although I didn't do as well on the final as I would have liked. My debits and credits must have been in a fight that day because they were totally not getting along.

One of the most beneficial parts of the MBA is the access to professors. They have great career insights, know tons of people for networking, and are all just really bright. My professors have been particularly accessible. I bumped into one on campus last semester and asked him if he felt I should enroll in a particular elective for which I was not sure I would be totally prepared. Opened my email at the end of the day and had 4 emails. They were from him and the professor who would be teaching me. They discussed what would be covered and how my background would probably be sufficient. I'll tell you more about the profs later.

Ok, wow. I need to get faster at this.