Thanks. But why did his grandmother start crying? AB
On 23 July 2010 12:15, Udhay Shankar N <[email protected]> wrote: > Very interesting way of putting it, from Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos. > > http://www.princeton.edu/main/news/archive/S27/52/51O99/index.xml > > "We are What We Choose" > Remarks by Jeff Bezos, as delivered to the Class of 2010 > Baccalaureate > May 30, 2010 > > As a kid, I spent my summers with my grandparents on their ranch in > Texas. I helped fix windmills, vaccinate cattle, and do other chores. > We also watched soap operas every afternoon, especially "Days of our > Lives." My grandparents belonged to a Caravan Club, a group of > Airstream trailer owners who travel together around the U.S. and > Canada. And every few summers, we'd join the caravan. We'd hitch up > the Airstream trailer to my grandfather's car, and off we'd go, in a > line with 300 other Airstream adventurers. I loved and worshipped my > grandparents and I really looked forward to these trips. On one > particular trip, I was about 10 years old. I was rolling around in the > big bench seat in the back of the car. My grandfather was driving. And > my grandmother had the passenger seat. She smoked throughout these > trips, and I hated the smell. > > At that age, I'd take any excuse to make estimates and do minor > arithmetic. I'd calculate our gas mileage -- figure out useless > statistics on things like grocery spending. I'd been hearing an ad > campaign about smoking. I can't remember the details, but basically > the ad said, every puff of a cigarette takes some number of minutes > off of your life: I think it might have been two minutes per puff. At > any rate, I decided to do the math for my grandmother. I estimated the > number of cigarettes per days, estimated the number of puffs per > cigarette and so on. When I was satisfied that I'd come up with a > reasonable number, I poked my head into the front of the car, tapped > my grandmother on the shoulder, and proudly proclaimed, "At two > minutes per puff, you've taken nine years off your life!" > > I have a vivid memory of what happened, and it was not what I > expected. I expected to be applauded for my cleverness and arithmetic > skills. "Jeff, you're so smart. You had to have made some tricky > estimates, figure out the number of minutes in a year and do some > division." That's not what happened. Instead, my grandmother burst > into tears. I sat in the backseat and did not know what to do. While > my grandmother sat crying, my grandfather, who had been driving in > silence, pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway. He got out of > the car and came around and opened my door and waited for me to > follow. Was I in trouble? My grandfather was a highly intelligent, > quiet man. He had never said a harsh word to me, and maybe this was to > be the first time? Or maybe he would ask that I get back in the car > and apologize to my grandmother. I had no experience in this realm > with my grandparents and no way to gauge what the consequences might > be. We stopped beside the trailer. My grandfather looked at me, and > after a bit of silence, he gently and calmly said, "Jeff, one day > you'll understand that it's harder to be kind than clever." > > What I want to talk to you about today is the difference between gifts > and choices. Cleverness is a gift, kindness is a choice. Gifts are > easy -- they're given after all. Choices can be hard. You can seduce > yourself with your gifts if you're not careful, and if you do, it'll > probably be to the detriment of your choices. > > This is a group with many gifts. I'm sure one of your gifts is the > gift of a smart and capable brain. I'm confident that's the case > because admission is competitive and if there weren't some signs that > you're clever, the dean of admission wouldn't have let you in. > > Your smarts will come in handy because you will travel in a land of > marvels. We humans -- plodding as we are -- will astonish ourselves. > We'll invent ways to generate clean energy and a lot of it. Atom by > atom, we'll assemble tiny machines that will enter cell walls and make > repairs. This month comes the extraordinary but also inevitable news > that we've synthesized life. In the coming years, we'll not only > synthesize it, but we'll engineer it to specifications. I believe > you'll even see us understand the human brain. Jules Verne, Mark > Twain, Galileo, Newton -- all the curious from the ages would have > wanted to be alive most of all right now. As a civilization, we will > have so many gifts, just as you as individuals have so many individual > gifts as you sit before me. > > How will you use these gifts? And will you take pride in your gifts or > pride in your choices? > > I got the idea to start Amazon 16 years ago. I came across the fact > that Web usage was growing at 2,300 percent per year. I'd never seen > or heard of anything that grew that fast, and the idea of building an > online bookstore with millions of titles -- something that simply > couldn't exist in the physical world -- was very exciting to me. I had > just turned 30 years old, and I'd been married for a year. I told my > wife MacKenzie that I wanted to quit my job and go do this crazy thing > that probably wouldn't work since most startups don't, and I wasn't > sure what would happen after that. MacKenzie (also a Princeton grad > and sitting here in the second row) told me I should go for it. As a > young boy, I'd been a garage inventor. I'd invented an automatic gate > closer out of cement-filled tires, a solar cooker that didn't work > very well out of an umbrella and tinfoil, baking-pan alarms to entrap > my siblings. I'd always wanted to be an inventor, and she wanted me to > follow my passion. > > I was working at a financial firm in New York City with a bunch of > very smart people, and I had a brilliant boss that I much admired. I > went to my boss and told him I wanted to start a company selling books > on the Internet. He took me on a long walk in Central Park, listened > carefully to me, and finally said, "That sounds like a really good > idea, but it would be an even better idea for someone who didn't > already have a good job." That logic made some sense to me, and he > convinced me to think about it for 48 hours before making a final > decision. Seen in that light, it really was a difficult choice, but > ultimately, I decided I had to give it a shot. I didn't think I'd > regret trying and failing. And I suspected I would always be haunted > by a decision to not try at all. After much consideration, I took the > less safe path to follow my passion, and I'm proud of that choice. > > Tomorrow, in a very real sense, your life -- the life you author from > scratch on your own -- begins. > > How will you use your gifts? What choices will you make? > > Will inertia be your guide, or will you follow your passions? > > Will you follow dogma, or will you be original? > > Will you choose a life of ease, or a life of service and adventure? > > Will you wilt under criticism, or will you follow your convictions? > > Will you bluff it out when you're wrong, or will you apologize? > > Will you guard your heart against rejection, or will you act when you > fall in love? > > Will you play it safe, or will you be a little bit swashbuckling? > > When it's tough, will you give up, or will you be relentless? > > Will you be a cynic, or will you be a builder? > > Will you be clever at the expense of others, or will you be kind? > > I will hazard a prediction. When you are 80 years old, and in a quiet > moment of reflection narrating for only yourself the most personal > version of your life story, the telling that will be most compact and > meaningful will be the series of choices you have made. In the end, we > are our choices. Build yourself a great story. Thank you and good > luck! > > > -- > ((Udhay Shankar N)) ((udhay @ pobox.com)) ((www.digeratus.com)) > > -- J. Alfred Prufrock "Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded I do not know whether a man or a woman - But who is that on the other side of you?"
