No I didn’t start an Airline… (yet)
I’ve had quite an interesting journey from suburban wannabe rockstar to CFO for Gary Vaynerchuk’s VaynerMedia. Over the coming months and years I hope to share my different stories, adventures and experiences with the world to hopefully inspire some of you to take chances and do things that you are passionate about. The universe has a funny way of rewarding you for things that drive you the most. I also want to be a resource for folks who might need help in managing their business.
So in the spirit of keeping this platform exciting, unpredictable and hopefully inspiring, I am officially announcing the launch of my new company HeydtAir, providing financial navigation for your business. HeydtAir is my 60’s/70’s inspired fictitious airline that allows me to combine my love and sometimes fear of flying, and all the endless analogies that come to mind when running a business and how similar that is to flying an airplane. I hope you will allow me to indulge in sharing my stories, even if they seem a bit “off topic” from a typical business blog.
Here’s my first story that I’ve also shared on my Flight (b)Log on my company website www.heydtair.com. I promise you more of these strange and not so strange adventures in the coming months. Also feel free to get in touch with me if I can be a resource to help your business. email@example.com
It’s the 5th day of SXSW 2012. I had arrived in Austin 12 days earlier to help launch a new venue with new lights, sound, and furnishings for the annual conference. On 30 hours of sleep in those 12 days, living on sugar-free Red Bull and Texas sushi, at 7pm I get a text from my partner: “He’s coming”.
Two hours later “He” and I are standing in a room together silently, with an occasional nod to each other to make the awkward situation less awkward. We both breathe a sigh of relief when a hulking bodyguard enters the room carrying a small box and removes its contents. Stage Sneakers. I forget if they were gold plated or Back to the Future auto-laced, but they were cool. He squats down and changes into the sneakers. A few minutes later I am leading him and the guard through a meandering maze of hallways and the underground Kitchen of the Belmont. I mutter “Hello Cleveland!” under my breath to no reaction from either of them. Finally, we reach the back door of the basement. After climbing six cement steps, I open the door and we are completely and overwhelmingly pummeled by a veritable tsunami of flashing lights and frantic screams. Of the thousands of pictures snapped at that moment, this is the only one I could find…