ISSUE 265 : Wednesday, September 30, 2009

I'm buzzing around like a bug in a glass jar over here. Not enough time to do what has to be done. Never enough resources to nail it,  but just enough to get it off the ground and airborn. Life is a bitch  and then you do five years in Lexington or go to work at WalMart.

Given all of that, you would think I would welcome all the help I  could get. And yes, a guy like me gets bombarded constantly by people  wanting to "help." What they're really doing is looking for a fast  track in to the business by working for somebody with a track record.  But what's really in it for me? There is "help," and there is "no  help at all." Unfortunately, most interns, assistants, apprentices  and volunteers fall into that second category.

Some kid called me and said he wanted to intern at Smart. He said  there was a list being circulated at Miami Portfolio School of the  top 50 people to work for in the business and I was number 12. I told  him I would pay him $100 bucks to scratch my name off every copy of  the list he could find. He took me up on it. Smart kid. But not smart enough for me to want to babysit his ass.

I have a simple policy about such a practice. It's my pass/fail  criteria and it has yet to let me down. The only reason for a person  to subject themselves to the indignities of an internship is to either learn about the business or have something worthwhile to put  on their resume. The ones who honestly want to learn our craft can be  a true blessing. The ones who are looking for a resume entry have  already checked out the first week on the job. They got what they  came for. Every spare minute these guys are on FaceBook or Twitter spilling their guts about our business to their "lifecasting" followers.

So I cut right to the chase. It goes something like this.

"How much do you want to be in this business?" (sfx: crickets)

"Do you think I have something to teach you?" (silent head nod)

"Good. It will cost you $1,000 a month for me to teach you what I know."

That's it. Simple. Clear. Direct. Those that look nervously towards  the door, or their watch, I put out of their misery with "Off you go.  Thanks for stopping by." Those whose eyes never waver, but just swallow hard I ask, "Do you think I'm worth it?"

Either they shake their head "yes" or shrug and look for the door.  "Think about it" is the last thing I say, knowing I'll never see them  again. Every once in a great while one will surprise me and say,  "When do I start?" There have been six of them over the past two  years. Every one of them was a diamond in the rough. And their money gave them the confidence they would need to put up with my cranky ass week after week, month after month.

There was nothing more valuable to me then learning at the right hand  of Berry Gordy, Helmut Krone, Mary Wells Lawrence and Dan Cracchiola.  Knowledge transfer is a wonderful thing. But when a generation truly  believes that world history started from the moment they tumbled down the birth canal, a  serious conflict of interest comes into play. Who gets to talk and  who gets to listen? There is absolutely nothing a 24-year-old can  teach me about the world. So most of the benefit in the mentor/mentee  relationship is going to accrue to the one gaining the knowledge.  They need to pay.