Journal : OpenRoadWorks

I'm sitting in a meeting right now and simultaneously processing thoughts for a brief post and brainstorming on new products... ...In post, out of post, juggling a couple of mental models, talking about companies, business models, value propositions, all the best of what business lingo can bring... ...Stepped out for a hallway conversation, the Presidential Inauguration, work updates, personal updates, later plans... ...This is how the day comes and goes, wrapping up a meeting, taking stock of the interim steps of the day, projecting to the future, staying present to close out thoughts before packing up and driving home to perform the same mad steps all over again.

Time flies - it's been almost 3 years since my first trip to China and exposure to this most intricate of cultures. And now that I am part of a Chinese family thanks to my wife, I get to join in all of the culture's beautiful celebrations moving forward. This starts with the Chinese New Year, or more broadly the Lunar New Year, which is celebrated all across Asia as the true beginning of the year. It is a time for crazy abundance of firecrackers and the sorts of pyrotechnic displays that would put American Independence Day displays to shame. It is a time for red envelopes and monetary gifts to make the children squeal with glee over the untold riches of candies and toys that those yuan can buy. It is a time for ritual and symbolism regarding fortune, health, and happiness that certain traditions and foods can bring. Above all, it is a time for the greatest migration on the planet, where hundreds of millions of Chinese return home to their families all over the mainland, c...

“Which brings me to the third and main reason why this was not just a campaign but it was a movement… and that’s you. Because when I look out across this… this place.... When I look out and see all of you, I think… look at you, you guys are just kids! And maybe it’s because so many of you are so young, or at least young at heart, that you could imagine what had not been done before. You didn’t know any better when people said I couldn’t win. You didn’t understand that that’s not how it is done, when people said, ‘well you can’t raise money over the internet $25 at a time.’ You didn't know, so you just went out and raised money over the internet $25 at a time. Yes we can. [Crowd chanting "yes we can, yes we can..."] “When people said, ‘you know what, you can’t build a grass-roots organization in all 50 states and have people just get on a website and just decide, ‘well, I’m going to vote for Obama and I’m just going to start organizing.’ You’re not suppos...

After a weeknight party with the stars (the infamous Youth Ball ) and a weekday fighting to stay alert, I prepared for another night of Presidential Inaugural activities. Sure, the President was out longer than me at his 10 balls vs. my 1 Youth Ball and sure, Obama was working harder than me at helping the economy and repairing America's reputation abroad, but I was determined to keep up with him and attend the final ball, the Obama for America Staff Ball. Over the course of two years of campaigning, hundreds of thousands of volunteers and campaign staffers joined up with the Obama movement and worked to get him elected. On the President's first day in office, his Presidential Inauguration Committee organized a thank-you event for a lucky few thousand of that enormous support crew, complete with open bar, never-ending buffet, and Jay-Z, of all people. Little did I know that this event of seemingly mundane proportion would be the highlight of the Inauguration week and go a...

After the momentous Inauguration Ceremony and the mishaps of our delegates on the Mall (witness the Infamous Purple Tickets ), we were poised to experience the upside of Inauguration Day through attending the Youth Ball in the evening, one of the 10 "official" balls where the President would himself make an appearance. Setting context first, the Presidential Inauguration has established a tradition for itself ever since the rise in power of the federal government in the first part of the 20th century, evolving to encompass three major activities in subsequent order: 1) Inauguration Ceremony: a swearing in of the new president at 12pm EDT, followed by the new president's inauguration speech to the citizenry 2) Inauguration Parade: a triumphant march from the Capitol Building to the White House (incidentally moving day for the new President), followed by a processional of marching bands, troupes, and delegations 3) Inauguration Balls: a series of elegant soirees (usually bl...

Imagine waking at 4am EDT after falling asleep just three hours before, partially for completing a 5-hour drive through traffic from NYC, partially for staying up to chat with welcoming friends who offered accommodations for fellowship. Imagine joining an early-morning stampede on the Metro, scrambling yet patiently biding lines with 1.7M other revelers clogging every conceivable train, plane, car, bus, bike, and pedestrian route into Washington DC. Imagine facing pre-dawn winds that blustered and drove temperatures well below zero, even if those measured temperatures neglected to measure a bone-rattling wind chill factor. Imagine exiting the Metro to face a wall of revelers, altogether commiserate but undeniably determined to bear witness to the noontime event that would mark a new chapter in American history. Imagine forming a strange brotherhood with same revelers while fighting every inch of advancement to the entrance gate, moving with the grit that some describe wartime front...

The Presidential Inauguration events drew me away from my work activities this morning. Living in DC, it is hard to concentrate on the normal tasks at hand, so I set aside my action items and watched the overflowing crowd (over two million strong) on TV. We have a delegate inside, the singer from our wedding , who is braving the cold for an eyewitness account of this amazing moment. "Bearing witness", said one woman on the radio - and she was right. Our delegate left with his "roommate" this morning around 4am; he was able to enter his assigned seating area at 9:45am, where he will eventually take position in the coveted stands (Purple section rules!) at the base of the Capitol Building. The text messages are flying furiously as the event unfolds in the early hours: "Crazy" "still havent moved an inch. weve had a couple of ambulances cause people have freaked out!" As President-elect Obama left the Blair House, received service at St. Thomas Ch...

Obama's inauguration is not the only big celebration this week...

I have associated the World Trade Center buildings with New York City ever since my first visit to NYC back in 2001. Those two pillars were a symbol of for what New York City means to the US and to the world, towering above and almost omnipresent in their command of the skyline. Surprising to me and most everyone else that these huge steel monuments to commerce would fall on a beautiful fall morning later that year, left to smolder with the remains of thousands and conjecture what would become of a world considered less safe than before. I was reminded of these thoughts as I worked out of an office that affronted the north end of the once-magnificent buildings. Same brilliant sunshine pierced through the gorges formed by a litany of skyscrapers, but the light was altogether brilliant passing through what once was steel and concrete. Below were the cranes fighting to resurrect what was once so proud, crippled not just by the immense task at hand but by the "politics-as-usual...

Something is afoot in Washington DC. The town is buzzing in a way that transports me deep into the pages of a Tolstoy epic. Although not nearly as stunning in architecture and geography, I picture DC as St. Petersburg during the Napoleonic Wars and the great balls held at the Winter Palace. I can see the soldiers in green uniform and the women in Empire dresses, both poised for gallantry and yearning for courtship and dancing. I can hear the mindless chatter of the commoners and the cultivated gossip of the social climbers. I can feel the bustle of the court staff and the anticipation of the ball pageantry at the Tsarist court - all of St. Petersburg would have been charged with the candlelight of a thousand souls yearning for excitement, greatness, and intrigue. It is the same in Washington DC as Obama ascends to the presidency. Inaugural committees furiously prepare festivities, FedEx couriers feverishly distribute ball invitations, women nervously fret over their ball gowns, and men...

I found this photograph in a book that I donated to charity this past weekend. A couple is pausing to smile upon their dinner salads, likely a happy occasion - these are my parents. The year is somewhere in the early 1970's, before children, before responsibilities, before aging parents, before cell phones. I wondered what might have been the thoughts of that seemingly joyous evening and what conversation topics flowed from this meal. Signs of the times are prevalent - smaller food portions, colorful attire, an ashtray with a cigarette butt inside. But the smiles are the same, many years after. And in those smiles is a deeper connection to what remains, timeless and poignant. I am reminded of a classic yet obscure song from my high school days in the 1990's, a collaboration between REM and Natalie Merchant called Photograph . I am grateful that the pages of a worn book surrendered this treasure - "I found this photograph"...

I am looking out over a clean desk full of promise. Listen for a moment: rhythmic silence. There are house creaks, highway murmur of cars and trucks, but that noise drifts away on the sea that you picture next. Imagine a solid ship conquering the waves rolling before you, standing triumphant over the bow and looking out towards a horizon bursting with shades of blue. Feel for a moment: crisp sea air, some brine peppering your face but a fresh feeling nonetheless. For this moment, imagine unfurling a map that makes perfect sense to you, and upon simple decipher, points the way towards yellow and green mingling with the horizon yonder over bow. And imagine, over that rhythmic silence that sounds like constant waves, upon the bow of a solid ship, crisp sea air refreshing the lungs, the first sight of a beautiful new land emerge in the distance, beautiful blue meets verdant green. This image is heaven to me as I render pure to cleanse the mind and prepare for the day. A quiet morni...

Today is a not-so-subtle mix of rain in its various forms (wet, icy, cold, big, small, what have you), and I am trying to scale the mountain of productivity set before me. As the window bears the constant presence of this dreary day, I embrace a slow morning as calm before all the storms that inevitably await me.

2009 is upon us. The holiday decorations have come down - save our tree, which will find its hibernating spot this upcoming weekend. The college football bowl games have all been played - save the mythical national championship game, which is nothing more than an ESPN orgy of soundbytes and commercials. The work pace has quickened with the start of a new year - save no one, incidentally, with barely complaint due to thankfulness for gainful employment by those still in good jobs. There is nothing left to do except remember what resolutions presented themselves to my psyche. Ah yes, the typical ones - health, well-being, fortune, and good luck. The work ones - yearly priorities and commitments for the boss, in writing. The highly personal ones - some not realized until deep in the throes of a peaceful slumber. All these endings and beginnings are a natural part of life. It reminds me of the class that ended my MBA experience in Switzerland, taught by a certain Professor Kohlrieser ...