The year was 2009.

I was living in San Francisco’s Mission District, running a small audio production business. Scott was a promising young artist on the other side of the country. He reached out to our team about mastering his upcoming album “Smoke Stack”.

It was a pleasure working with this guy, and over the course of countless emails sent back and forth, we eventually became friends. We wrapped up his album and he began working on the next.

Our team loved his sound (by this time he had already surpassed even Bob Marley on itunes!).

Well, as many of you know, I have a restless spirit. An opportunity to move to NYC presented itself in 2010. I jumped at the chance, but was quickly hit with a good dose of reality. It was the peak of sweltering summer, and finding an apartment was much more difficult than I thought.

The Let Down

I had already committed to doing Scott’s next album. I was confident that I had streamlined my process enough to pull it off – even during a major transition such as this.

Well I was wrong. Apartment hunting was exhausting, and the humidity was oppressive. Instead of just apologizing to Scott and backing out of the project, I assumed I could rely on our friendship – and deliver some rough “preliminary” versions just to tide him over.

I didn’t want to let him down…and at the time, giving him something felt better than nothing.

Some days went by, and eventually Scott responded about the mixes he was sent. However, this time he called instead of the usual email. I knew something was up.

He expressed his concern about the rough sound, even though I had assured him that it would be polished and finalized once feedback was received. (Previously, I had always made sure to get him the cleanest, most balanced preliminary versions I could.)

Something was off, and it was clear to him.

To his credit, Scott was quite calm and diplomatic about everything. He apologized and told me that his team wanted to take the project elsewhere. I understood.

We never heard from him after that.

A Valuable Life Lesson

I realized that if I had a mildly difficult conversation with him – simply let him know timing wasn’t good for this album – he would have still brought his future projects to us. The relationship could have been salvaged. In business, as in life, that’s what it’s all about, right?

Relationships.

Life is not a transaction.

So, instead of hurting him a little with a simple truth, I ended up hurting him a lot by promising something I probably shouldn’t have.

Letting people down in life may be inevitable from time to time, but there are ways to dramatically soften the blow. A little preventive maintenance goes a long way.

In truth, I think Scott outgrew our humble little studio anyway. He’s still out there pluggin’ away – one of the most talented, hardworking artists in the business.

(By the way, even after all that, he still recommended us to an up-and-coming friend of his. I think that’s a testament to what a good guy he really is.)

Anyway, I like to think he’d get a kick out me sitting here on a beach after all these years. I’m on the other side of the world, and Stick Figure is still providing the soundtrack to my life.

Thanks, Scott.

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Quite literally, it’s bananas.

Okay, enough of the punny stuff. It really does amaze me how quickly they go. Sometimes my siblings come over and I notice that they, too, seem to love bananas. Must be genetic.

Now, I may live an interesting life, but my breakfast routine is about as mundane as it gets. Each morning I have a simple bowl of oatmeal with a banana. If I feel like splurging, I *might* throw some blueberries on top (it’s rare).

More or less, this is how I’ve started my day for over 20 years. However, we live in quite a remote location. It’s great, but the nearest store is about an hour away. We tend to wait weeks between trips, and buy in bulk when we go.

So, a few days ago, I noticed there were only two bananas left. My wife is nursing a baby right now. I figure she needs these bananas more than I do. So I ate my oatmeal sans banana for the past few days.

The thing is, I woke up this morning and the bananas are still there.

I didn’t count on the fact that, knowing I was on a 20 year banana-and-oatmeal streak, my wife had the same thought I did. She saved the bananas for me.

In my mind, this is what marriage is all about – or at least it should be. It‘s not a one way road. It’s a partnership, and partners look out for each other.

She is better than I in this regard, but at least this time I got it right.

So…what are we going to do with these old bananas?

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