Board Member At Large

[Martin Hash]

Like all ambitious men at their prime, I read the famous book, “The Millionaire Next Door,” that influenced me more than any other. It’s supposition was that the vast majority of financially successful people, mostly self-made small business owners, aren’t ostentatious in any way, but are instead frugal and live in humble surroundings. The frugality part was appealing to me, someone who grew up getting free school lunches, but since I was at the height of my success, I couldn’t help but engage in a certain level of conspicuous consumption: house, cars, suits, watches; sigils of my achievement. That didn’t last too long because one of the most entertaining and satisfying things in life is getting a good deal, even if it’s only a dollar-off coupon at Arby’s, so I regressed back to the miser I was inside.

The other unique proposition from the book was its admiration of CPAs. Up until then, I’d never considered accounting seriously, even though I was a details guy when it came to money, almost a fetish, but I took the impression to heart and became a CPA myself. Supposedly, one of the things being a CPA did was make that person an attractive candidate to be on the board of directors of companies, something I did find appealing. After spending decades finally achieving complete “homo Universalis” status, the world’s only-ever simultaneously licensed doctor, lawyer, accountant & engineer, I was under the false impression that other people would be as impressed with me as I was. An idea formed of what I could do with such a resume, and becoming a board member at large, meaning someone not actually part of the organization, seemed like a perfect fit since I knew so much about so much, and could be a fount of wisdom and advice. I thought companies would only need to know I existed to get invited onto their boards. Because I act on my initiatives, don’t just talk about them like most people, I made up brochures that espoused my qualifications, got an address list of venture capital firms, bought $1000 worth of stamps, and sent out 100 advertisements at a time; I didn’t want to have to deal too many responses. Disappointingly, this idea wasn’t the first nor the last to completely flop but it was the most discouraging. Thousands of inquiries resulting in absolutely nothing; never heard back from anyone, yes or no. I was disillusioned of the false premise that merit will suffice to break through nepotism into the upper echelons of business & society.

Resume.jpg