It's the little things

I went into Stop and Shop today to buy a jar of mayonnaise. One can buy mayo in many sizes, from convenience jar to family bucket. But at Stop and Shop in Jackson Square, brand-name mayonnaise does not appear in small sizes. "Light" is the only branded mayonnaise you can get smaller than 32 oz., and light mayo is a hypocrisy I will not brook.

Let me be clear: mayo is not a staple in our household. We use it sparingly, about once a week - like others might use hot sauce, or something. The thought of buying unbranded mayonnaise from God knows where is unsettling enough in these days of poisoned toothpaste. Thinking of leaving any brand of mayo sitting in the fridge for longer than two weeks? A 32-oz. jar would be in my fridge for a month or more, and that thought makes me shudder.

OK, you call it prissy. I call it protecting my family. Laugh all you want now, but I guess you won't be laughing when your tuna salad has you writhing on a shopping mall toilet seat. To end on a good note, I went to Roche Bros. in West Roxbury (the World's most unfortunately named supermarket) and got a 15-oz. jar of the gloppy white stuff for $2.99. And I was happy.

Phone companies I am putting you on notice

Here's how I know my wireless phone service provider doesn't love me: I can't subscribe to a service that will automatically text me when I'm in danger of running over my allotted minutes or data. If I received such a message, the temptation would be too great to just bump up my plan and forget about it. I'd be their best customer.

Instead, they act like a credit card company, banking that in the whirl of torrid text exchanges and loquacious interview subjects, I'll forget last month's resolution to check my balance regularly. Then I picture them rubbing hands together gleefully as they rack up the exorbitant fees.

I just opened my bill. For the second month in a row, it's double the usual amount. Last month it was the minutes. This time it was the text messages.

I think a normal person would buy a bigger plan. Me? I thought a long minute about throwing my phone into Boston Harbor. As satisfying as that would be, I need the lousy thing. So I've decided not to use it unless I really need it. All the times I've left the land line idle, too lazy to dial the numbers, or afraid my friends won't pick up if they don't recognize the number - goodbye to all of that.

I used to think I was saving money on the cel, getting my long-distance service for free. I now know that, due to an invention called broadband Internet, the concept of "long distance" is a quaint joke. So, instead of rewarding AT&T for poking me in the eye, I shall attempt to cut my phone use to a trickle.

Just in case I fail, would some alert and trustworthy programmer please develop a Web app that can take my att.com password, crawl my online statement and ping me when I'm on track to run over? Thank you, and godspeed.

What does "out of context" mean?

Ticket Stumbler's Dan Hauber commented on today's Mass High Tech article, which mentioned his company as one of several that's going places with little or no VC funding (so far). Dan's comments said I took his quote out of context. It's true I left out some of the other things he told me - like the company isn't ruling out venture capital in the future. But I don't think that distorted the meaning of Dan's own words, which were, to his credit, frank and straightforward:

Medford-based Ticket Stumbler Inc. isn’t looking for venture capital at all. It isn’t using the cloud, either, but traffic on TicketStumbler.com, the event ticket resale aggregator’s website, is growing 50 percent a month.

“We don’t even have a financial model,” said co-founder Dan Haubert. “Just going that whole route is very time-consuming when we could be building and talking to our users and improving the site.”

I think that meaning is pretty clear. The company isn't looking for VC funding. I shall decline to comment on the photo (or the size of anyone's hands).

Rush is right. (or: Fall Guys and Girls)

Today I have to admit I have been wrong about Rush Limbaugh. Because today, I heard him say something I think is worth repeating. He said something I would repeat in mixed company - not to mention post here for everyone to see. Here is what he said:

There are people in that campaign trying to save their own skins for the next campaign.

Limbaugh was talking about the Republican campaign staffers who shamelessly stretched credibility this week with some anonymous insights (and other nasty things) about Gov. Sarah Palin, including:

She did not know Africa is a continent;

The Secret Service told aides that after Palin's rallies began, they tracked an uptick in threats against candidate Barack Obama.

Sure, Palin was in no way qualified for the vice presidency, but these claims set off the BS meter. I don't think the Secret Service gives out information to incontinent campaign aides. (Remember? They're the Secret Service.)

What's no secret is Sen. John McCain let his campaign staff run amok. And that led to botched strategy over botched strategy. Many of us breathed a sigh of relief during McCain's concession speech Tuesday. For me, it was double: America picked the right guy; and I got back the John McCain whom I'd registered Republican just to vote for in the 2000 primary.

Marc Ambinder of Atlantic Monthly reported in a blog post a few hours ago that someone is blaming the leaks on the Romney camp. I guess the leakers are looking for another fall guy. I'd bet all that's left in my 401(k) they're wondering whether maybe they went too far. In Washington, it's not whether you win or lose. It's how you lay the blame.

Venture capital running dry: why that's a good thing

It has become far too easy to start a business in software and Internet. As one VC marketing exec told me recently, most venture capital investors are followers. They find someone who's doing something good, and they throw dollars at the best people they can find to copy it. I talked with serial entrepreneur John Landry yesterday. At McCormack & Dodge in the 1970s, things were a little different.

Every component that you needed to build a system with was scarce. Programming talent was scarce. Machines were expensive. Competitive info was really hard to get. [Landry told me he used to put on a mustache and go to competitor's events at the Mariott.]

When you built something in that environment you had a lock on it. If you got through those hurdles and built something people wanted you could dictate pricing and you could have a lead position forever as long as you kept it fresh.

Now, companies like animoto put their stuff together and run it up on Facebook. The next morning, through the wonders of virtualization, they're transacting massive amounts of data over the Web, without needing to invest in a room full of servers.

So if you've got a really solid idea, now's the time, right? The venture capital firms are all putting their cash back into their existing portfolio, so you don't have to worry about a pack of followers scheming for your intellectual property or your market share. And with cloud computing, plus armies of hungry programmers, you don't need to share the pie with Daddy Warbucks. By the time the economy turns around, you'll be rich. Either that or we'll all be living in grass huts.

Next week's post: how to build a better fish weir.

Words that should be banned: "passion"

I've been getting myself annoyed and worked up for a while about the bloviating over-use of the word passion. It's a word that's now near meaningless thanks to the neverending search for the next greatest superlative. It's not good enough any more to be interested in your career. You have to be passionate about it. I reached the tipping point last week when an interview subject told me he was "passionate about marketing."

No one should be passionate about marketing. Consider Lincoln's use of the word, which Barack Obama quoted in his victory speech Tuesday night:

We are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

Passion is a kind of madness. Like Civil War allegiances and hatreds, it can quickly become self-destructive. It's Romeo and Juliet, Samson and Delilah. It's not marketing and communications. So please. Lay off passion.