My Google status is slipping, so I guess the gods are telling me to blog more. I've promised to write more on my experiences at Novell, but I'm going to defer that for one more post to talk about another hat that I'm wearing this summer and throughout the school year.

As a BR Ventures fund manager, I get to focus my attention on two of our portfolio companies, one of which is Jodange. The investment decision to move forward with Jodange was made last Spring, but as most people know, a VC's job doesn't end with an investment. So, to the extent that Fund managers can successfully juggle full-time academics, summer internships, clubs and activities, as well as our comprehensive responsibilities for the Fund, we should and must work to promote the success of our portfolio companies. Of course, their success is our success, so I'm not talking about charity.

Jodange is an exciting company, technologically at the forefront of its field. The company's products are based on technology developed in Cornell's Computer Science Department under the direction of Dr. Claire Cardie. Larry Levy, the CEO, has a strong track record and all the right things VCs look for in a manger. And, the company already has substantive customer success, which speaks for itself.

BR Ventures believes that Jodange is positioned for big things (hence the investment), but that's not to say there aren't mountains to climb en route. For any company in today's economy, cash is king, but start-ups have a unique relationship with cash. By that I mean, they must do more than everyone else with far less than everyone else, with burn rates constantly pulling them out and under like dangerous riptides. I've read articles like this one on how down economies are good for first-rate start-ups. To be honest, I think that's seeing the world through rose colored glasses.

Yet, some start-ups will persevere and Jodange is at the top of my list.

p.s. I'm writing this post on a ferry headed from the Cape to MV. Lucky me.

Ironically, I think the main reason that I haven't blogged much this is summer is that there are so many things to blog about, I couldn't settle on what to write. Novell (NOVL) has proven to not only offer what I have to imagine is one of the strongest MBA intern programs in the industry (i.e. access to and events with the entire senior executive team, projects that sit at the heart of the core business, social outings, not to mention recognition for hard work and delivery), but also to be a great choice for me personally.

The question of how to market and sell open source software is profoundly interesting, and perhaps what drew me to the company in the first place (in addition to the unbelievably capable team). I was at one time perplexed by how Novell could recruit and retain such talent, when so many other companies struggle to nurture the human capital that their very success is contingent upon. But as I've gotten more intimately involved with the operations of the company, I must say, I get it.

Novell is a company at a cross roads, facing unique and complex challenges. It is a company ripe with opportunity that has the maturity, resources, and alliances to take advantage of that opportunity. This sets it apart both from large, public companies that lack agility and the ability to innovate, as well as small private companies that lack resources, relationships, patent portfolios, breadth and depth.

I intend to write more later on what I've learned--specifically through my role in Alliance Marketing and generally on what I have found to be a top notch marketing organization. I also hope to offer my two cents on how this all fits with my MBA at the Johnson School, in regards to areas of strength and opportunities for improvement. But those are separate blogs for another day.

First of all, the book I've been touting for weeks is now available. Buy it here. You'll love it.

Last night I did something that I've never done before in Ithaca. I attended a phenomenal rock concert. As you might imagine, Ithaca isn't exactly a haven for popular musicians (although it's artistic spirit does lend itself to local bands). For some unearthly reason, Josh Ritter hopped on his tour bus and traveled to Ithaca to play a show. In truth, he played a half a show--the other half was played by a British alternative band called Gomez. Fortunately for me, Josh played first, because I left after a few songs of Gomez' act.

Josh Ritter is brilliant. He's a poet and he writes about all the right things, like Van Morrison in his heyday. I think he too was surprised to find himself in Ithaca. He kept saying "why haven't I been here before?" I'm pretty sure I know why, but it was nice of him to say he'd come back. The show was supposed to be at State Theatre, a beautiful large theater with an orchestra and a balcony, but was moved to a place called the Haunt. I'd never been to the Haunt, but it was a very cool venue, which I'll definitely go back to. Ultimately, I was glad to see the show there. It was far more intimate than it would have otherwise been and I prefer concerts where people are standing (and drinking) and involved, over concerts where people are sitting. The symphony is for sitting; rock is for standing (and ideally, dancing). The disconcerting thing about the last minute change of venues is that I can only guess it was because they simply didn't sell enough tickets and State Theatre would have felt empty. If colleges are supposed to have the pulse on great music--and not just music with mass popular following--but great, less known, more talented artists, then Cornell (and Ithaca College) seems to have dropped the ball.

My suggestion is that it picks the ball back up, and as much as I hate to admit it, the undergrads have to lead the charge. MBAs are getting too old. And Jackie Greene, if you are reading this, please come to Ithaca and play a show!

Earlier this week I attended BOOM (Bits on our Minds), the Computing and Information Science Department's showcase of undergraduate technologies. Once I got over the fact that undergrad engineers look about 12 years old, I began talking to some of them about their creations. I saw robots, and 3D printers for food, green technologies, and of course, video games.

There was one aspect of the afternoon that stood out: it is really really fun to see things, and by things, I mean inventions. Even if the inventions are totally purposeless and will never meet the hands of a consumer, they represent progress, evolution, and to borrow a cast aside ideology from the Obama campaign--hope.

That business people often do not interact with things is odd. We interact with money, markets, customers, partners, debt, and equity, but we are not inventors and many of us have never built anything ourselves.

The truth is that making things is therapeutic. So, put away your yoga matt, fire your psychologist, and go make something, write something, or play a song on the piano. Those young, idealistic undergrads may well have a thing or two to teach us after all.

For the first half of the year, the walls of Sage Hall were impenetrable. The world outside virtually didn't exist, and conversations revolved almost exclusively around core classes and impending job searches.

Times have changed. The Immersion program, although segregating, has enabled a certain depth of knowledge and practical experience. But there's more. I've begun exploring some of the research produced by the truly great minds of the Cornell community--the engineers.

Let's face it, business is just a tool--a mechanism to bring products to market and keep capital in the system. It's not magic, though it can be highly creative. The real innovation happens well before commerce is even relevant. The amazing thing about Cornell is that the University manages to produce some of the greatest science and technology in the world, in a wholly unpretentious way. CCTEC, the University's technology transfer office, opens its arms to MBAs, professors are supportive, and engineers are willing and excited to share their research. In a world where doors are constantly closed on young entrepreneurs and where individuals sideline themselves all-too-often, this dynamic is truly breathtaking.

When we were little kids we used to decorate shoe boxes and make cute valentines out of doilies for all the other kids in our class. A couple decades later, this kind of trade has changed slightly, but the spirit remains the same. When I learn about an exciting technology, I literally get butterflies. And then there is the unritualized, awkward process of putting myself out there, making sure there's chemistry, and finding a common goal. Truth be told, sometimes you get a valentine back and sometimes you don't. Regardless, the process is heartening.

Ethics is a far more subtle phenomenon than most people would like to think. We tend to compartmentalize our world and in doing so, we regard leaders as clearly ethical or obviously unethical. In hindsight, we always point to overt ethical missteps and say, "how did the SEC miss that?" or "why didn't someone blow the whistle?" But the reality is that most ethical issues aren't grand or seemingly significant enough for individuals to pause and consider them.

We are lumbering through on-campus interviews for summer internships this month, and one common behavioral question is "Tell me about a time you faced an unethical situation." I don't know what other people say when they get this question, but I imagine many are hard-pressed to think of a situation they are comfortable talking about, if they can think of anything at all. This, I would argue, is because overtly unethical (and usually illegal) activity, even though perpetrated by someone else, is highly embarrassing and difficult to talk about in an interview, and subtle unethical behavior, the kind we are surrounded by, day in and day out, often goes entirely without notice.

For instance, slacking off is unethical--when an individual doesn't pull his or her weight, someone else has to fill in the gap or the business suffers. This is true of team projects here at business school and it's certainly true in the real world. Start-ups have very little tolerance for poor performers, and one or two really bad apples can lead to the dissolution of the entire firm.

Last week in my Entrepreneurship and Private Equity class, we discussed the management and organization of high-growth businesses. One feature of the CEO's position that Professor BenDaniel astutely pointed out is that the CEO is the role model to which every employee responds. People come into the office based on when the CEO comes in, they limit expenses during travel based on the CEO's example, and they even treat their colleagues with a similar degree of kindness and respect as the CEO exhibits towards them. What is so remarkable about this phenomenon is that individuals aren't inherently ethical or unethical--they are inherently malleable.

For the most part, no one is even conscious of how they are being influenced or whether their behavior is ethical. In the beautiful words of C.S. Lewis: "The moment of his consent almost escaped his notice; certainly, there was no struggle, no sense of turning a corner. There may have been a time in the world's history when such moments fully revealed their gravity...But for him, it all slipped past in a chatter of laughter, of that intimate laughter among fellow professionals, which of all earthly powers is strongest to make men do very bad things before they are yet, individually, very bad men," [That Hideous Strength].

My route to business school was by no means direct, but as far as I'm concerned, it makes perfect sense. An entrepreneur and a writer at heart, I found my way here via studies in religion and philosophy at Stanford, followed by a stint in public relations, marketing roles for two software start-ups, and a bit of post-acquisition work at IBM. I like wearing jeans to work, going in late and leaving late, and sitting at the same table as the CEO. I am and I always will be a Pittsburgher by association, but I've now spent almost a third of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area. Today, I'm thrilled to spend two years in Ithaca at the Johnson School-I wouldn't have it any other way