in my father’s mansion, we are an extended family of entrepreneurs.  i’m working on a new sales model.  i think about it while cross country skiing with my grandpa.  back home, under the warm yellow lights, i start to work it out.  i want it to succeed by making the world better, not by padding my bank account.  my father walks by as i’m filling out a card and smashes my cookies that are sitting out.  he says something about the idea being worthless.  i don’t see what the problem is.  i paid for the cookies! nothing was stolen or written off.

i go to a concert, a test run of my idea.  the place is packed with young people.  the charismatic lead singer asks the audience if they would like to name a cookie for someone who could use something good in their life, some acknowledgement of inspiration, appreciation for their existence and perseverance.  people begin to pass up cards with names of friends, mentors, family members.  i send up a card with my own name since no one else will.