I'm Not a Businessman, I'm a BUSINESS, MAN!

I talked to my friend Madeline today (Yay! She has a new blog! Check it out: Reckless Reading) and we came up with a business plan. We're going to make something and then we're going to sell that something. I'm not going to say what it is, because I don't want you thieves to steal our idea. Also, we're stealing the idea from someone else, and I'm not prepared to deal with any legal ramifications just yet. But the point is, we've got a plan and we're going to do it and then we're going to make a zillion dollars. I will say that it involves a lot of crafting, and everyone knows I'm crafty.

Anyway, mere minutes after figuring this out with Madeline, I got an email from my dad. It was a link to an article about 10 people who made a million dollars by the time they were 25 - like, say, Mark Zuckerberg. Well, Dad, I hate to break it to you, but despite my youthful glow and my affinity for using adolescent slang, I am not 25. I missed that Millionaire Mark, and by quite a ways. But my dad, God love him, is insistent that at least one of his kids becomes an overnight millionaire. None of us is sure exactly why, but in my case, I'm sure it has everything to do my English degree and lack of a savings account.

Around Christmas, my dad wanted us kids to make a viral video. There wasn't really a concrete IDEA or CONCEPT, but he just wanted us to put our minds together and come up with the next "hide ya kids, hide ya wife" video and cash in. Needless to say, we didn't do it. We're not exactly "viral" material. Plus, can you even MAKE MONEY on those videos? I kind of doubt it. But to my dad's credit, seriously how hard could it be to make a video like this: Annoying Orange.

See, here's where my dad and I go our separate ways. First of all, he's hopelessly optimistic in the abilities of his kids, whereas I'm surprised if I remember to brush my teeth at night. My dad sees something good and thinks "Why couldn't we do that?" whereas I think "This could be cooler if I had a vodka tonic". My dad DOES things. I, on the other hand, need someone to tell me exactly what to do, and then I do it and the results are average. Sure I have my creative moments, but my talents are solely in writing snarky comments about celebrities and my sub-par grooming habits.

Example: I had a poster I stole from my dad found in college, of the iconic Farrah Fawcett. I love that poster. I wanted to hang it up, but I didn't have a frame. So I cut the cardboard out of a huge moving box and Scotch taped mounted the poster on top of the cardboard. Voila! Acceptable. My DAD, on the other hand is quite the opposite. My mom saw a big piece of geometric art in a Pottery Barn catalog. She loved it, and she wanted it. My dad was all "Uh, it's like $450,000,000,000. And it looks like something I could make." My mom called his bluff. So what did he do? He went out and bought paint and supplies and recreated the whole damn thing. It was an incredibly accurate reproduction - like, freaky good. See? He can DO those kinds of things. He recreates works of art, I mount posters onto cracked cardboard with tape.

I have yet to start a business, or film a wildly viral video, or start Facebook. I do take the opportunity whenever possible, to remind my dad that I write a blog like, every night! Still he sends me these emails, with encouragement like "Go check out what this person did on $20 and a dream" and then say something like "Why couldn't WE do something like this?" And I'm all "But Dad, my blog...it's like, sooooooooo important!" and he's all, "I just don't get how you're going to make a million dollars with it, though."

Despite my less-than-desirable skill set when it comes to businessing (it's a word), my dad continues to have an unshakable faith in me that I can start (or help start) the next Google. I mean I can't do math, I lose interest in things quickly, and my knowledge of economics and other abstract concepts is, uh, nil. But I CAN come up with punny product names. If anything, I've got a shot at NAMING the next million dollar idea. Maybe that's what I need to do. That'll be my business. You come in with your fancy idea or product, and I'll tap my chin, lean back in my chair, and say something genius. You have an innovative knife sharpener? Blade Runner. Boom. Give me a million dollars. (Okay, so that's a horrible example, but I'm not going print my best ideas on here! I'm savin' 'em up to cash in at the patent office!)

Well, luckily Madeline is a vicious go-getter who has no patience for slacking, so the above mentioned business we're going to start is sure to be a success. I mean, IF we start it. Sorry, Madeline, but I kind of have a history of flaking once an idea has lost its luster. Just ask my dad.