815 independent sponsor (“IS”) deals analyzed. The authors found that IS deals have a similar risk profile to traditional PE deals, with greater upside.
The first large-sample study on IS deal performance just dropped from the Institute for Private Capital & the SBIA.🧵
Oh just the mellowest “Spanish Moon” cover you’ve ever heard with Marcus King on drums and his buddies playing instruments once owned by Mike Bloomfield & Jerry Garcia nbd
🎥Family Guitars
Good morning. 49 years ago today, The Grateful Dead played a legendary set at Pembroke Pines that culminated with some of Jerry’s finest soloing on an "Estimated Prophet"> "Eyes of the World"> "Wharf Rat">"Terrapin Station">"Morning Dew" run for the ages… Highly suggest.🔥
dear community notes - i am right and you are wrong
1) payroll tax goes to the federal government
2) a company that has accrued NOLs does not owe tax - the implication that they are dodging something is confiscatory
in summation, eat shit and die
You have no experience.
You’ve never started a company.
You’ve never had a full time job.
Nike is going to kill you.
You’re a kid.
You don’t have technical skills.
You shouldn’t build hardware.
Apple is going to kill you.
You can’t build hardware.
You can’t measure heart rate non-invasively.
Athletes don’t care about recovery.
Under Armour is going to kill you.
It won’t be accurate.
You don’t listen.
You’re an ineffective leader.
You can’t recruit great talent.
You’re going to have to pay every athlete.
You can’t measure sleep non-invasively.
It’s too expensive to research.
Athletes are a small market.
The product costs too much to make.
The product costs too much to sell.
Your valuation is too high.
Consumers aren’t going to want it.
Hardware is too hard.
You should measure steps.
Fitbit is going to kill you.
You can’t build a marketing engine.
You can’t raise enough money.
You need a real CEO.
Google is going to kill you.
You can’t be a subscription.
You can’t build a brand.
You can’t do consumer in Boston.
Your valuation is too high.
You shouldn’t make accessories.
You shouldn’t make apparel.
Lululemon is going to kill you.
You can’t predict Covid.
Stay in your niche.
You are going to run out of money.
You can’t build a health platform.
Amazon is going to kill you.
You can’t measure blood pressure.
You can’t get medical approvals.
The market is too small.
You don’t understand AI.
The market is too competitive.
It won’t work internationally.
The supply chain is too complicated.
You can’t build an AI.
You can’t raise enough money.
It’s too competitive.
Healthcare isn’t going to want it.
…
Just keep going ✌️
ESPN announces new 6-episode ESPN Original Series, 'Saban'
🏈 Highlighting the life & career of college football coach Nick Saban
Details: https://t.co/kfrif1s4SN
It Happened Last Night: @SpaffordMusic opened their winter tour with a set-long, 56-minute "The Other One" cover in Knoxville.
Watch/listen to the band's Bob Weir tribute ...
https://t.co/Wr58FkvC9a
In the darkest hour of my life, when everything felt stripped of color and consequence, the Grateful Dead found me.
I didn’t go looking for them. I wasn’t searching for enlightenment or salvation. I was just trying to get through the days without feeling the weight of everything pressing down on my chest. Life had narrowed into something small and joyless, a routine of endurance rather than living. And then, almost by accident, I heard them, not as background music, but as an invitation.
The Grateful Dead didn’t offer easy answers or tidy resolutions. What they offered was permission. Permission to feel everything at once, grief and gratitude, longing and laughter, confusion and wonder. Their music wandered the way I felt inside, unpolished, exploratory, unafraid of getting lost. In those long, meandering jams, I realized that being lost wasn’t a failure. Sometimes it was the point.
There was something deeply human in the way they played. Notes bent and frayed, songs dissolved and reassembled themselves, mistakes became moments of grace. It reminded me that life didn’t need to be perfect to be meaningful. It just needed to be honest. When Jerry sang about broken dreams and strange highways, it felt less like a performance and more like someone sitting beside me, saying, I’ve been here too.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the world began to open back up. Their songs taught me to listen again, to sunsets, to strangers, to the quiet hope hiding inside even the hardest days. Beauty, I learned, isn’t always loud or triumphant. Sometimes it’s subtle, fleeting, and fragile, like a melody that only exists once and is never played the same way again.
The Grateful Dead showed me that life is less about control and more about surrendering to the flow. You don’t dominate the current. You ride it. You trust that even when the path bends unexpectedly, it’s still taking you somewhere worth going. That realization didn’t fix everything, but it gave me something better, perspective.
In my darkest hour, they didn’t pull me out of the darkness. They taught me how to see in it. They showed me that joy can coexist with pain, that meaning can be found in the mess, and that there is profound beauty in simply being here, still listening, still moving forward.
Once in a while, you get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at it right.
Thank you for everything, Bob.