Warren Buffett made good on a promise this week. Once a year he raffles a lunch to the highest bidder and gives the proceeds to charity. This year Zhao Danyang won the opportunity to have lunch with Warren Buffett at Smith and Wolinsky’s in New York City and it only cost him $2.1M.
I like reading about Mr. Buffett to see what I can learn. I’ve been following news stories about him since my days at Salomon Brothers when he was one of the primary stockholders. It was always news when he was in the building and everyone rushed to the auditorium at 7 World Trade Center to hear him speak.
What did I learn? Simple things really. He drove a used car, lived in a modest house and believed in saving for a rainy day. He held fast to his values despite his exorbitant wealth.
I was surrounded by big money when I worked at Salomon. In the summer, the limos would begin lining up in front of 7 World Trade starting around noon on Fridays, waiting to take the million dollar brokers to the Hamptons for the weekend. They had big cars, big money, big houses and big egos. Working in HR, I saw the compensation numbers – they were big! I also saw the other side: the burn out, the high divorce rate, the substance abuse and more.
So what’s this have to do with Mr. Buffett? He traveled in the same circles; he made even bigger money but had something that money couldn’t buy . . . . balance. Most of the folks thatheaded for the Hamptons are long gone now and sadly, so is 7 World Trade Center. Mr. Buffett survives. He had a two million dollar lunch Wednesday at Smith and Wolinsky’s.
Balance. . . it’s a beautiful thing.
Showing posts with label Work and Life Values. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work and Life Values. Show all posts
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
People At Work in Brooklyn
As a career coach I find it interesting to observe what others do for a living. What calls them to the work they do? Did they pursue their life’s work consciously, did they sort of tumble into it? Were they taught? Were they born with some innate talent? Whether a physician, laborer, artist…how did they get there?
I met my cousin Nancy last Friday at The Brooklyn Museum to see Gustave Caillebotte: The Reluctant Impressionist. Nancy is an artist, so visiting an art museum with her is a wonderfully enriching experience. Not only is she enjoyable to be with, she has an artist’s eye. I get an art lesson just being there with her. She’s smart, not preachy; and knows her stuff. She would make a wonderful teacher. Caillebotte’s famous Floor Scrapers are his rendering of the actual workmen he had hired to refurbish his Paris apartment. He painted them as they worked.
My personal favorite was a painting by Francis Guy: A Scene in Winter. Painted in the early 19th century, Guy depicts his neighbors going about their daily lives when Brooklyn still resembled a small Dutch village. It was difficult to think of Brooklyn as the village it once was, especially as I drove down Flatbush Avenue. But Guy’s gift with a paint brush allowed my imagination to take off. A Brooklyn native myself, whose ancestors had a farm on what is now Bedford Avenue, I thought it was entirely possible that some of the townspeople depicted in the snowy scene were family members from 200 years ago.
Caillebotte was wealthy and could well afford to paint while others worked. Francis Guy painted what he saw from his window. Did anyone work at regular jobs like the rest of us? Certainly not either of these gentlemen. But one thing became clear to me. Whether we scrape or paint, we seem to migrate toward what feeds us. Do we choose our life’s work because it provides the income to feed us physically or because it feeds us in ways that are more important to us? Which comes first? . . . something to think about on my way home.
I met my cousin Nancy last Friday at The Brooklyn Museum to see Gustave Caillebotte: The Reluctant Impressionist. Nancy is an artist, so visiting an art museum with her is a wonderfully enriching experience. Not only is she enjoyable to be with, she has an artist’s eye. I get an art lesson just being there with her. She’s smart, not preachy; and knows her stuff. She would make a wonderful teacher. Caillebotte’s famous Floor Scrapers are his rendering of the actual workmen he had hired to refurbish his Paris apartment. He painted them as they worked.
My personal favorite was a painting by Francis Guy: A Scene in Winter. Painted in the early 19th century, Guy depicts his neighbors going about their daily lives when Brooklyn still resembled a small Dutch village. It was difficult to think of Brooklyn as the village it once was, especially as I drove down Flatbush Avenue. But Guy’s gift with a paint brush allowed my imagination to take off. A Brooklyn native myself, whose ancestors had a farm on what is now Bedford Avenue, I thought it was entirely possible that some of the townspeople depicted in the snowy scene were family members from 200 years ago.
Caillebotte was wealthy and could well afford to paint while others worked. Francis Guy painted what he saw from his window. Did anyone work at regular jobs like the rest of us? Certainly not either of these gentlemen. But one thing became clear to me. Whether we scrape or paint, we seem to migrate toward what feeds us. Do we choose our life’s work because it provides the income to feed us physically or because it feeds us in ways that are more important to us? Which comes first? . . . something to think about on my way home.
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