The Next Best Thing: Even Better Than the Real Thing?

There was a Monday in April where America woke up and collectively said "what!?" April 15, 2012 will forever be known in music lore as the day we resurrected a dead icon, Tupac Shakur, and watched him perform 'live' onstage at Coachella. April 16th will forever be known as the day the rest of us- those not fortunate to have experienced it in person in the waning hours of a smoky Sunday night- found out about it. And we were all talking about it. It replaced politics, the latest Mad Men episode, and the average weekend forays as the number one talking point at water coolers and cubicles across the country. The internet and social media sites were abuzz with amazement. It was one of those watershed moments that was so cool it was discussed equally among hipsters, businessmen, stay-at-home moms, and high school teens.

One of the first questions everyone began asking was 'how?' We quickly learned exactly how this 'hologram' Tupac was created, a hi-tech stroke of genius that only Dr. Dre could have conceived and only an expert in effects could have reproduced. It was cool. Of course it was cool! It was cool because it had never been done before. It was cool because it was Tupac (!) that was the subject of this technological feat. It was cool because anything Dr. Dre and/or Snoop Dogg does just seems to always have that 'cool' factor. And, most importantly, it was cool because it gave a group of people who more than likely missed seeing Tupac perform before he was shot to death the chance to now do so. It was the next best thing to seeing the real flesh and blood Tupac rapping onstage.

That sums that weed-clouded evening up perfectly: the next best thing. It sums up a lot more than that; we are obsessed with the next best thing. If we can't afford the new Louis Vuitton purse or wallet, we buy the knockoff in some backstreet bodega. If we aren't able to see our favorite TV show's season finale when it aired, we DVR it. When we can't go on the vacation we wanted, we settle for something similar. If we don't have time to grab a cup of coffee at our favorite local stop, we stop at a place that makes the next best cup of Joe. Our days are filled with moments of settling and next best things.

Businesses, both of the legal and black market sorts, understand this phenomenon. That's why fake Apple stores, fake luxury goods, fake Coca-Cola, and fake Captain Crunch cereal sells all over the world. That's why the bootleg movie and music business has stayed strong despite law enforcement's crackdowns. It's why less-than-desirable travel destinations sweeten up their image with pictures that look like more famous destinations and why Vegas has hotels themed around Paris, New York City and Italy. It's why we are now going to see a rash of hologram performers on global stages (Freddie Mercury hologram performances were announced last month, and just this week reports of an Elvis hologram took flight). The next best thing can sometimes be the first best thing when it comes to making a buck.

It can be the best thing for us as well. There are countless reasons for settling on the second (or third) best, and not all are ill-advised. There are always moments where we settle out of necessity, where the next best thing is the only thing. Maybe we can't afford the real thing, so we go for the cheaper version we can afford. You missed out on a trip to Hawaii because of a sudden family emergency so you go to Palm Springs or San Diego the next weekend instead. You missed Tupac when he was alive, so you took the opportunity to see the next best thing- fake Tupac.

But there are also as many moments where we settle for wrong reasons; we settle because it's more convenient for us. We can't be there for our child's birthday or big moment in a school play because we chose a golf trip with our buddies instead, so we send lavish gifts as guilt offerings. We forget anniversaries so we buy flowers on the way home from the office and settle for a chain restaurant. We're greedy with our money so we buy our spouses the knockoff products and hope they don't notice. We don't plan family time or vacations so we settle for a trip to the water park on our next day off when we begin to hear complaints.

When settling for second rate, we must first analyze why we are settling. If the motives are born from necessity, then the next best thing is a pure outcome, and one in which you should find no shame. When settling is birthed by convenience, it's time to suck it up and go for the real thing. Put aside your greed, pride, selfishness, etc. and do what's right. In some cases, there are no next best things at all. It's either the real deal or nothing at all. Those instances are always the ones that arise from settling for ease. There is never a next best thing for a child missing your time and attention; never a next best thing for doing something that could save or improve someone's life; never a next best thing for bringing hope into someone's life. If what you're settling on is something intangible, chances are there's only the real thing and nothing else.

So go see The Beatles' (because you know it's coming!) holograms sing Strawberry Fields and bring your imitation soda with you. Just make sure that you're not doing that instead of your kids' birthday or your anniversary.

What next best things do you settle for? Is your personal life full of next best things? What are instances in your life where only the real thing will do?

A 10-Year-Old, A Basketball Card, & Facebook- What's it Worth?

As a six-year old boy I was turned on to the world of basketball- the NBA to be exact- by my basketball loving dad. I was immediately drawn to the high-flyer sticking his tongue out with the cool shoes. Now, mind you, this was before Michael Jordan had won any championships (he wouldn't win his first title until a year after I started following the game), but the hype machine had already been built around him. There were the nightly outbursts of prolific scoring, the Nike contract and hip signature shoe line, the suits in post-game interviews, the on-court swagger, and the grafity-defying dunks. Of course the dunks!

Of course he went on to win six NBA championships and countless other awards as the league's most valuable player both on and off the court. He became a one-man brand with a Midas touch. Even when he was failing miserably in his attempts to play Major League baseball for one year, he was still golden. Hype justified? Obviously a yes...but what is the intrinsic value of hype? What do all the awards, trophies, accolades, and shoe commercials add up to for me as a consumer of not only basketball as a product, but Michael Jordan as a person?

Naturally, as a young boy with an escalating affinity for sports, I started collecting trading cards. For my birthday one year I asked for a specific Michael Jordan basketball card. I still remember to this day the sheer excitement I felt when I opened up a present from my parents and saw that magnificent piece of printed cardboard. There was nothing spectacular of flashy about the card. MJ wasn't soaring over anyone or even setting up for a shot in the photo. But it was my hero on the exact card I'd asked for. As I grew older I got more involved in collecting cards and began trading with my friends. Naturally, I was a little entrepreneur (as were my card-trading friends) and I only traded on value. If someone wanted one of my cards, they would have to at least give me a card that had the same monetary value...except, of course, for my 1988 Fleer Michael Jordan. The thing about that particular card is it wasn't particularly valuable. If I recall, it had a going value of somewhere around $35 (and, upon investigation the card is now available for as low as $12.50!). I had countless friends offering me cards that were at the time worth far more than that; some upwards of $100. Obviously missing the point of entrepreneurship, my response each time was a resounding NO! Michael Jordan was my first hero and I wasn't willing to let any part of him go.

Contrast that with the Facebook IPO fiasco, as detailed here in this excellent piece. The company saw itself as one of the time-tested big boys. and valued themselves to be a $100 billion company. Hype set in months before the initial offering with people marking their calendars for their chance to cash in. The sappy line from Field of Dreams says "if you build it, they will come." Well, Facebook built it and they sure did come running. They ran right into record highs for trading volume on the first day of going public. And just as
quickly as it had been bought, it began to drop. And it continued to drop. In fact, it's still dropping and to date has fallen 15% from its initial $38 per share price. Overnight the company went from the darling savior of the stock market to the whipping boy of pundits and, now, the judiciary system.

What went wrong? Well, there are many possible explanations, but none more obvious than the sheer fact that the company and its underwriters overvalued themselves. Sure, they had a track record of tremendous success. Facebook is an international icon synonymous with internet success and money-making opportunity. Their product is largely unrivaled in the still-in-its-infant-stages world of social media. Their hoodied founder has graced magazine covers and spawned a hit movie. The hype was in place long before this IPO, but in this case hype was used to portend even greater earnings. Hype was the catalyst making it all work.

Except, hype can also be fleeting. And, more importantly, hype in the business world is grounded in the here and the now. There's a reason why Warren Buffet, one of the most successful investors in this world's history, doesn't own a share of Facebook stock. He's a man who's built his empire on a simple premise: investing in the tried and true, the necessity. In the tech and web world, today's big thing can be tomorrow's has-been. There's no guarantee that Facebook will remain viable in the social media realm in even four or five years. Tomorrow's next big thing can swoop in at any moment and devour it, leaving it to be a 10-year footnote in business class text books.

See, as children with simpler agendas, we buy into hype as well. Just like as a 6-year-old I became entranced with an areal acrobat who wore the number 23 on his journey, we all buy into hype of some sort. Just like the eager investors with hungry eyes waiting to pounce at opening bell. Just like voters running along the campaign trails of their party's candidate. Just like teenie-boppers awaiting the latest Justin Beieber record (or in their case, digital download). No matter how counter-culture, hipster, trend-setting, in-the-know we all might claim to be, the fact is that at some point you and I have bought into hype. And we will buy into hype again in the future, regardless of what Public Enemy tried to teach us.

 The trick, then, is to be careful with what we're actually doing with that hype. Are we buying it and trading it like stocks, overvaluing the reality? And what are we hype are you buying in the first place? There's certainly no problem with a 6-year-old boy buying into hype and finding a childhood hero. There's no problem with an adult buying into the hype of a political candidate they believe in and seeing that person champion the causes they have personal stake in. There's nothing wrong with buying into the hype of a new band and discovering a personal favorite that will last into your waning years. There is not a problem with buying into hype when it's attached to sentiment, because you can't overvalue sentiment. You can't overvalue childhood heroes or adult ideals and beliefs. You can't overvalue spending time with your kids or with loved ones. You can't overvalue family and friends. You can't overvalue your dreams. You can't overvalue emotions like love and comfort.

You can, however, overvalue money. You can overvalue stocks and corporations. You can overvalue your devotion to work or the time you spend with people who aren't invested in your life. You can overvalue your knowledge and your own self-worth to those around you. ...and most importantly, you can overvalue  negativity and the ideals that buy stock in it (hatred, bitterness, jealousy...). If you buy into the hype of the right things, they'll last you a lifetime. If you buy into the hype of the wrong things, they'll be gone before you know it and you'll be stuck with huge losses.

I still have that Michael Jordan basketball card...and I wouldn't trade it for 5,000 shares of Facebook stock.

What do you overvalue in your life? What do you undervalue in your life? Is it time to buy or sell certain stocks in your life?

*Update: Facebook stock has continued to fall as detailed here. 

Solving For 'x' in Today's World

When America wakes up tomorrow morning it will be saying good morning to a newly-crowned American Idol. The show, wrapping up its 11th season, has become a staple of American pop lore. The television factory has created genuinely viable superstars (Carrie Underwood and Kelly Clarkson to name two) and given us some laughable moments (William Hung, anyone?). We've seen judges ranging the gambit from formerly washed-up (Paula Abdul) to obscure (I'm sure 90% of America had no clue Randy Jackson had been a member of Journey before Idol) to masters of reinvention (Steven Tyler). And despite its sharply declining ratings, it's been overall a massive success, one that will take its place, rightly or wrongly, alongside such monumental TV staples as American Bandstand, Soul Train, and the Ed Sullivan Show when it comes to buzz-worthy musical moments.

But one thing it hasn't given us is any sense of authenticity. Everything about the show, from its carefully selected judges to its contestants to the individual song selections feels contrived. Before you get defensive, I promise that this is not a hipster rant about the lack of a "cool factor;" I'd rather put a Michael Jackson record on than Bon Iver's latest drama and I can easily throw on a copy of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road  immediately after listening to the latest Little Dragon offering. I'm not saying the contrived nature of the show can't be entertaining, but it is oftentimes misunderstood for something of more value. While it may go neck and neck with a show like American Bandstand in terms of cultural relevance, it will never match its predecessor in terms of actual value. American Bandstand was relevant in more than its entertainment value; they were introducing a lot of America to a whole new sound, a whole new thing! There were musicians performing songs that had never been performed before that sounded like nothing that had been heard before. They were attempting to break down preconceived notions and racial barriers with brand new art! The only thing American Idol can be charged with on the originality scale is that it was the first program of its kind to make us realize that we've grown stale in terms of what we want from our art.

A while back I was asked to define what I considered to be 'genuine.' I wrote that "rather than recreating something old, we should strive to create something new and fresh each time." Ok, of course there have been some excellent musical covers. Jimi Hedrix' All Along the Watchtower was better than Dylan's original and Johnny Cash's rendition of Hurt was at least on equal footing with the Nine Inch Nails hit. But, in order for a reproduction of someone else's art to stand alone as its own expression it needs to take the original piece someplace new and different; that's why Hendrix and Cash's renditions can be taken as true art. It's why the Cohen brothers' True Grit won awards as a remake of a 60's film. Although not wholly original when it comes to the birth of idea, they still took something preexisting and made it feel fresh.

By nature, we're not going to see a show like American Idol churning out dozens of original songs each week. It wouldn't work with the tried and true success of the show's formatting. So, we're stuck with watching contestants forge through 'Whitney Houston Week' and 'Lady Gaga Week.' And instead of taking the songs somewhere new and exciting, instead of capturing them and making them their own, we see the contestants plodding through someone else's art trying verbatim to hit each exact note at the exact same time with the exact same emotion as the original artist. Some of the contestants do an amazing job at this too! They can sing with the best of them and they can mimic the exact feeling of a given song, but it's still as hollow as Al Gore's claims of cyberspace invention. 

Formulas make us happy because we know they work. Mathematicians find comfort in knowing that if they have the right values plugged into a given formula, they'll get the right answer every time. Television and record producers oftentimes (through no fault of their own) possess the same mentality; they want to plug the variables into the equation to ensure they get the answer that works every time. And, sadly, I think it's where we as Americans have arrived as well. We aren't as keen on innovation -artistic or otherwise- as we had been in generations past. We'd rather see the safe bet on TV singing a song we already know the exact way we remember it...rather go see a movie that is a 10-year update of a movie we've already memorized...read a book that rips off other books. But it's not just about American Idol and art. It's about what this says about you and I in general.

We like to play it safe. We like the comfort of formulas too. We'd rather go to the same restaurant every Thursday instead of trying something new on the other side of town. We'd rather be friends with people who remind us of ourselves instead of pursuing relationships with people who might challenge us or teach us something new.We'd rather stay home than walk down the street and get to know our neighbors. We'd rather go to school to get the job that will pay us the most instead of learning what interests us the most. We'd rather stay at our current jobs instead of pursuing our dreams.

Maybe it's time we leave the formulas to the worlds of mathematics, science, and business and live our lives more artistically, striving to move forward instead of remaining static and stale.

What song are you mimicking?

I Want You!...To Grow Up

"When will you grow up!?"

Most of us probably heard something like this repeatedly pouring out of the mouths of our parents and guardians. In fact, it seemed like the closer we were to the magical world of adulthood the more frequent similar phrases seemed to be uttered. And then just as magically, those words stopped. We did grow up and we started figuring things out.We went of to college. We got jobs. We developed our values and beliefs. We got married...had families...changed the world from our computers! It became universally accepted that responsibility and maturity went hand-in-hand with age, part of some algebraic equation with x's and y's representing our emotional growth and ages.

Our adult lives often become monuments to our evolution as man. We begin to say things like "I used to do that too," "When I was a kid I liked that," "I can't believe how stupid I was back then," or maybe even passing down that immortal phrase to our own children: "When will you grow up!?" What we are implying is that we've graduated into a time and place where we no longer make the mistakes of our youth and that we're better off as a result of our advancing years. 

 Things feel pretty good when we've made it, until something comes along and shakes our confidence in ourselves. Makes us realize that maybe we haven't evolved as far as we thought we had. We come across someone like Leeland Camara. Leeland isn't some über-successful CEO. He's not a politician. He doesn't have any hit records or movies. He doesn't drive a fancy car- in fact he doesn't drive a car at all. Leeland is 5. He also suffers from a life-altering disease. 

What Leeland did recently is one of those moments that make us feel like we've gotten horrifically off-track and the life equations we thought were universal suddenly fail us. The Make-A-Wish Foundation approached Leeland, who suffers from Leukemia, about helping him achieve one of his life wishes. Of course, like most 5-year-olds, he wanted to go to Disneyland. Unlike most 50-year-olds, he also had a wish to feed the hungry children in his hometown. And that's exactly what he did. He dressed up in a tuxedo and served dinner to a group of children through a local non-profit. He served everyone and didn't eat anything until he personally had ensured that everyone else had been served.

Uncle Sam pointed a finger at us in the early decades of the 1900's and stated that he wanted us. He wanted us to join the U.S. army and serve during the first and second World Wars. This iconic image went on to represent not only the U.S. asking for young men to enlist, but for men and women everywhere to lend a hand in whatever capacity they could to serve their country, be it joining the workforce to keep the economy and the supply of goods going, making wartime supplies, reporting news of the battles abroad, or caring for families who'd lost husbands and fathers during the War.

Those were different times, and the Lost Generation and Greatest Generation, to borrow from popular lexicon, were far more inclined to step up and serve. The Uncle Sam posters were quite effective, and these generations seemed to take on a unified identity, one that would be defined by caring for something greater than self and accepting responsibility for things that benefited the greater good of all. The world, and our country, was changed- largely for the better. It was changed by practical service. By people everywhere stepping up and doing what was necessary. It was changed by sacrifice and dedication, by responsibility and service. It was not changed from bedrooms, corner offices, or social media sites on our computer screens.

Now, obviously times change, and there certainly are ways to use new technologies and advancements for good. The now infamous Kony 2012 campaign was a prime example of this. Within one month of the Invisible Children organization releasing their expertly-edited video of the Ugandan war criminal, over 86 million people had clicked on and/or shared the clip. Posters, flyers, and spray-painted stencils began to appear all over the place- street corners, sidewalks, alleyways, churches. This is not an indictment of this relevant campaign; there is nothing wrong with what the Invisible Children people did. Their video was much needed in today's tuned out, apathetic United States. This is an indictment on us! On you and I.  We felt good about ourselves because we suddenly knew about a horrible man and his horrible acts on children and the country of Uganda. We were aware.

And that's the thing. Awareness has replaced service. If we relaunched the Uncle Sam campaign to accurately reflect today's world there would be Facebook pages, internet memes, Twitter accounts and websites with the still famous pointing Uncle Sam uttering slightly different words: 'I Want You to be Aware!' Again, there is NOTHING wrong with awareness, but awareness can be extremely hollow if it does not translate to action and service. I'm aware of the growing problem with homelessness and hunger in our own country. I'm aware of the increase in violence on children in schools. I'm aware of the number of children who can't read and thus won't have a proper education. I'm aware of the horrific hate crimes that increasingly take place because of someone's sexual orientation or skin color. I'm aware of many things, but what am I doing with this awareness? What are you doing with your awareness? If we're honest, most of us would say not enough.

That's why a 5 year-old kid named Leeland gets it. He was aware of a problem in his own hometown, and he put that awareness into action. He served. Nike had it right all along: 'Just Do It!' It's not enough to just know it. And there's an addendum to that as well- don't let your circumstances get in the way of your action. If a child with a serious disease can act, so can we. In fact, we seem to have gotten it wrong. Responsibility and maturity isn't something that we inherently evolve into with age. There's a certain sense of devolution taking place in fact, at least in terms of our attitudes towards the problems around us. Our minds can't conquer everything, and maybe Leeland Camara has something to say to us:

"When will you grow up!?"

What do you think about awareness and its relationship to action? What can you do to change your own immediate world? How can we use social media for more than awareness?

The (below) Average American & 10,000 Hours of Television

Researchers Ernest O'Boyle Jr., of Longwood University's College of Business and Economics, and Herman Aguinis at Indiana University's Kelley School of Business published the findings of their studies on the normality of human performance this week. The conclusion of their study is that most Americans, contrary to belief, aren't average. The premise of their studies, in which they looked at performances in the fields of entertainment, politics, and athletics, was that there are a few "superstars" in each of these fields who contribute most of the output...enough output that, if mapped out on a bell curve, the "average" would be skewed higher than it should. 


Now, in statistical terms, we know these numbers as "outliers," figures that are either significantly higher or lower than what shows up most frequently. However, if, say, 75% of the output in one field was being done by a select few, does this really mean that because the other 25% of output is being done by the majority of people, that is the average? Well, if we're talking in terms of number of people, then yes...but in terms of actual productivity, the answer is a big fat NO!


It's tough to swallow, because most of us don't want to admit that we may be below average; nobody really even wants to be average. If I was an average baseball player I'd hit somewhere around .250 with10 home runs a year- in other words, nobody would even remember my name 5 years after I'd retired. If I was an average musician, I'd have at best one album out and make enough money to pay the gas for the van I was using driving across the country. If I was an average husband in my age range I'd have about a 50/50 chance at seeing my marriage last. None of the above scenarios are appealing to anyone. Nobody wants to be average...let alone below average. 

Malcom Gladwell

Malcom Gladwell, staff writer for the New Yorker and author of several influential books popularized the rule of 10,000 hours in his book Outliers: The Story of Success. This idea is built around the principle of dedicating 10,000 hours to a specific task or practice. Gladwell theorizes that in doing so, one can become an expert in their field of focus. His book famously cites Bill Gates, The Beatles, and his own career as real-life illustrations of this rule in action. What is shocking about this claim is that it leaves the power to succeed up to the individual. Sure, the sociologists and cultural anthropologists might chime in that we're neglecting environment and emotional impacts, and to an extent these arguments are valid. But, largely, circumstance aside, ANYONE can devote 10,000 hours to something, in fact we all do already! The majority of us have spent 10,000 hours watching television over the course of our lives. Most of us have spent 10,000 listening to music. Many of us have spent 10,000 hours reading various magazines, books, and newspaper articles. Nowadays, most of us have spent 10,000 hours online!

There are 8,765.81277 hours in a year. It would take 1.14 years of doing nothing but devoting one's self to their task to become a so-called 'expert.' Obviously, completely unrealistic. But let's take this down to 2 hours a day. At this rate, it would take 13.69 years of dedicating 2 hours a day to achieve this classification. A long time, no doubt, but also something that is completely manageable for almost all of us. And if we encourage our children to start doing this towards things they love, we can set up a generation for true success. 

A few years back I decided I wanted to learn to play guitar (for the 10th time). I dusted off my old acoustic guitar that I'd received for Christmas one year and decided I was going to really learn it. After about a month of (very) infrequent practice, the guitar was back to collecting dust in the corner of my apartment. Probably no more than 30 hours into my endeavor, I'd given up. I'm now back to being a painfully below-average guitarist. 

Maybe it's time I devote my time more seriously to the things I want to actually succeed at. Maybe it's time we all do. Maybe we'll become average again or even above average!  Maybe I'll actually excel at playing guitar by the time I'm 45. We can become the outliers...or we can stay below average... 

...but at least we'll have watched our 10,000 hours of television.

What would you like to excel at? What do you make of this research? What could you cut out of your life to create more time for the things you want to succeed at?

What McDonalds and the Olympics Can Teach Us About Partnerships

McDonald's has begun ramping up for the Summer Olympic Games already. For the ninth consecutive Olympic Games, McDonald's holds the ear-pleasing title of "Official Restaurant of the Olympic Games." In preparation for this summer's Games in London, the fast food chain has begun construction on 4 brand new locations in and around the event centers, including one inside of the Olympic Village where the athletes from all of the competing countries eat, sleep, and unwind. One of these 4 new locations will be, on record, the largest McDonald's to date- a two story monolith capable of serving and seating over 1500 people at any given time. Advertisements featuring fit athletes will begin airing anytime now. Feel good Olympic stories brought to you by McDonald's are right around the corner.

Here's a commercial from the 2008 Games in Beijing:

If you believe what you see, then the Olympic Village is filled to the brim with in-shape athletes who love shoving Big Macs and Value Meals down their throats. Good health and fitness go hand-in-hand with burgers and chicken patties made from food with questionable origins. It's perfectly acceptable to not only eat McDonald's food, but to also feel good about it. 

But then reality kicks in and tells us it is NOT acceptable to feel good about eating McDonald's food, at least not if I'm trying to be as health and body-conscious as the average Olympian is. McDonald's has no place in the health and fitness world. And most serious Olympic athletes are probably sticking to their protein shakes and tossed green salads instead of their Quarter Pounders with cheese. How do we know all of this? We know this reality because of the sad state of obesity in our country (and the growing obesity rates in other countries). McDonald's has taught this country how to get fat, not how to prepare for an Olympic competition, or even a backyard competition!

So just what is McDonald's even doing sponsoring the Olympics in the first place? Sure, it's great on McDonald's end because it provides endless publicity to their already undisputed empire and will no doubt bring in tens of millions of dollars to the company. But what about the Olympic Games themselves? Is this really the kind of sponsor they'd like to have around? A sponsor who has encouraged multiple generations to eat cheap and quick, health be damned. A sponsor who has directly been part of the obesity problems in not only adults, but children now as well. A sponsor who'd rather see kids eat a Happy Meal than set out to be the next Olympic gold medalist.  A sponsor who, if they were honest, would show an image of this kind of athlete in their advertisements instead:

And now we get to this: the problem with this sponsorship is that it doesn't seem to be a problem at all! We've grown accustomed to ill-conceived partnerships. McDonald's sponsoring the Olympics is just part of a long history of bad partnerships in modern history. Our own government partners with countries of questionable practices all the time. Companies that are known to produce their goods in foreign sweatshops partner with Boys and Girls Clubs. Some churches have partnered with violent parties and individuals to demonstratively protest abortion clinics and U.S. soldier's funerals. Many of us have partnered with the wrong spouses. Our children partner with the wrong people in school and end up doing things we never would have imagined them doing. The list goes on. 

So then, maybe this McDonald's-Olympics partnership isn't so out of the ordinary after all. Maybe it's the norm because we've devalued partnerships altogether. Maybe we just partner up out of convenience instead of out of conviction and ideals.

What is the value of a partnership...and do you even think about the partnerships you are part of?

I'd love to hear your thoughts; please leave them here.