Car Jacking After Midnight
Risk, Bravery, and Life
"A coward judges all he sees by what he is. ― Stephen King, The Dark Tower"
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Beginning in the late 90’s I ran a website design and web hosting company before getting into the commercial real estate private equity business. One night, well after midnight and among the whiff of human fecal matter in the curb, I jumped into my green land rover discovery – a lemon of a vehicle not worth the capitalization – after I finished another successful launch of a website for a mega church.
By this time, it was 2000 and I had several companies, and the church client was putting up all-black billboards across Oklahoma with just the website address in big white letters the next morning. Thirty of them. So, wanting to get the DNS and the hard drives swapped over – running RAID for redundancy – I decided to do it in person in our downtown leased data center.
If you want something done right…
And crossing the bridge over I-37 in downtown Corpus Christi – not the best place to be – a group of thugs blocked the one-way bridge. The haze from the port a block over struck against the yellowed lamp on the opposite corner. About a dozen figures, plus the outline of two cars angled behind. The site launched at midnight, so it may have been closer to two by then.
A weak man is a dangerous man. I was a little afraid, but I will blame that on my sleep deprivation. And being outnumbered.
And seeing a group of potentially armed men blocking the road, you too would only have three options if you are unarmed like I was:
1. Stop and encounter them outnumbered and unarmed,
2. Reverse and hope they don’t follow you or worse, have someone else to box you in, or
3. Play chicken and risk killing them. And going to jail, hospital – or both.
These options also tell us a little about business and life. Alan Jackson sang of this in 1992: ‘A Lot About Livin’ (And a Little ‘Bout Love).
I think it was a little more refined Pascal who said something about it:
"When I consider the short duration of my life, swallowed up in the eternity before and after, the little space which I fill, and even can see, engulfed in the infinite immensity of spaces of which I am ignorant, and which know me not, I am frightened, and am astonished at being here rather than there; for there is no reason why here rather than there, why now rather than then. Who has put me here? By whose order and direction have this place and time been allotted to me? Memoria hospitis unius diei prætereuntis. ― Blaise Pascal, Pensées"
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Encounter as the First Option
My first option, to stop and encounter them, did go through my mind. In that situation, I figured I could hand them the cash in my wallet and head home, but that was assuming these were reasonable men.
What if they wanted the truck too? They couldn’t all fit in it, so what would they do with me on a bridge at midnight after they took my truck and I was left with the others. What about my driver’s license with my home address? Would they show up at my home for more? Or worse yet, knowing I was not there and had no vehicle or phone, beat me there?
Reasonable men do not try to stop vehicles in groups of a dozen at midnight. If a man knows a dozen others who would do such a thing, he would very likely be an individual who is not worth knowing for me.
A good read on your counterparty will often bring you to a quick conclusion.
If they were masked, these were the types of people who needed to have masks as a course of their daily lives.
If they were unmasked, then these would be people who, if I stopped, would know that I had seen their faces. Too many mob movies with bridges.
Reverse as the Second Option
Next, the idea of reversing back over that bridge did occur. Would they follow me? Would there be another vehicle to box me in from the other side?
Would another car come over that bridge – it was arched and I couldn’t see the other side – and cause an accident?
If I fled, would I just enable them to attack the next vehicle? What if it was an old woman coming home, and they killed her instead? I’d never live with myself.
"To permit evil – even suspected evil – is evil itself."
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Making a Bet on Risk
I’ve never admitted to going to Vegas – certainly not in this blog post. But I may have gone to Nevada a few times. When your wife’s family asks where the conference is, you tell them, Nevada. When your buddies ask, it’s Vegas. Do you see how specificity matters?
As a betting man at the blackjack table, I would know the way to get ahead is to wager against the probability. And the place the pit boss would allow me to play four or more hands is the MGM Grand. But one must play four quadruple bets or more to get the house to agree. And that begins at $1,600 per hand. A hand rarely lasts more than thirty seconds when you’re alone at a table. Pain arrives swiftly.
Living by probability is a fool’s game.
"Living by probability’s tracks leads to hell upon the railcar of mediocracy."
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If I keep playing the odds according to the book, the casino will always destroy me. The statistics are in on that game, too.
"Strategies built on the likely are built upon the mud of the crowd."
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Worldviews of the contrarian, however, are built upon relevance and impact. Risks with disproportionate upside are the only savior if we live in a city – or a casino.
Risk as the Remaining Option
Sometimes, risk is right. And sometimes you just need to want to live more than the other person wishes not to die. Risk has always been right for me. Not in some reckless manner but in a cold, calculating form. That form navigating the nuances of opportunity.
"Cowards see threats as threats. The wise flip threats to opportunities."
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And so, at midnight, in a blink of an eye, I chose the insane. After a quick thought as to where I could rinse off the blood and guts at this time of night without being seen, I decided I’d just deal with consequences directly rather than run. All the good car washes were closed that late.
Firming on the steering wheel and approximating the distance between the two angled cars blocking the road again, I decided to let my life ride.
The cars, were angled towards me like a point. Meaning, their engines – the heavist parts of them were in the center of the street. Every good student of CHIPS and A-TEAM knows that a car will only spin if you hit it on the light side – trunk. But the trunks were on two opposite sides of the road. And if I bet on the wrong car moving first, I’d hit the car head-on instead of the truck.
So, I decided I’d point my truck straight ahead. Hoping one of the cars would reverse back, then I could swerve to navigate that opening. But if neither could move in time, I’d likely be killed – by mob or by me.
Sometimes risk is right, but Rick is wrong. Most of the time.
Powering toward that group from thirty meters away, I began to see the beltless thugs run toward the sides. But they were not the major issue. The cars weren’t moving.
25 yards………..20 yards………..15 yards……….
Finally, when I was about 10 yards away, both cars rushed back, leaving barely enough room for me to squeeze by.
And thankfully, they did not chase me.
"Risk is right."
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Cowardice
The great sin is cowardice. More than murder, lying, or treason.
Cowards commit treason against their selves.
Like Pascal’s encouragement above, we only get one life. One self. One chance. One roll of the dice.
And if we are to truly live, we must take on life itself with all its challenges and fears.
"Cowards die many times before their deaths;
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The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar"
Bravery is a Muscle
I live in Houston – one of the great old-money cities. And I frequent many of the others every few weeks – New York City, Dallas, Chicago. I’ve known many third—and fourth-generation millionaires. They tend to decline in fortitude and competency the further they get from the second generation. Perhaps this is why so many family dynasties are ruined by the third. I have many friends who have overcome that however—to take their family businesses and family offices to the next level out of sheer determination to make a difference. But they are difficult to find. Why is that?
Bravery is a muscle that must be worked out. But there’s a catch: it can only be worked out with a risk attached.
"You can never get good at poker by playing for chips you never buy."
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Risks—unless you are a fool or gambler—can not be practiced in a controlled experiment. They must be seen out in the wild. For the wild is the only place you can kill or be killed. That’s what I love about entrepreneurship—you only eat what you kill. And to kill means to be dangerous. Every man and woman must know how to be savage if they are to live free.
Damn the thugs.
And so, I wish to leave you with three pieces of encouragement:
"Find a threat to murder – that thing which threatens you will continue to return unless you flip the risk back on it."
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"Self-preservation – preservation is not life – the life is in the risk."
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"Seek out asymmetric risks – when the dealer is showing a six, double down every damn time."
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And remember, risk is right because risk is the only place you will ever find life – or love. They cohabitate.
(Don’t believe me? Learn about Black Swans and vulnerability)
Here are two bonus quotes on living with bravery:
"Hatred is the coward’s revenge for being intimidated.
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― George Bernard Shaw"
"A coward dies a thousand times, a soldier dies but once.
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― Tupac Shakur"
