X - Chapter Fourteen "The Thirty Percent Solution"

 

"The Thirty Percent Solution" 

Chapter Fourteen - Mike Stein 

      The weather was beautiful – clear sky, freshness in the air – and I felt enthusiastic when I pulled into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn near an industrial suburb north of Boston. It was mid-morning, and I was driving the car I had just rented at Logan International. After I parked and grabbed my travel bag, I found Bill Voldman and a member of his Technology Practice, a young woman by the name of Rani Khanna, in the dining room sipping coffee. 

      Bill and Rani had flown in from San Jose the night before for one of their regular visits with Chuck Welch, the president and founder of Semper Fi Systems, and Bill had invited me to come along so I could see how his practice worked with a relatively new tech company. Both Ted Merritt and Scott Li thought my trip was a good idea.   

      Once I was installed at their table and took a few sips of my coffee, Bill telephoned Welch to let him know that I arrived and he could drive over to pick us up. I was just a bit surprised that the president of a company would play driver. 

      So I told Bill: “Boy, you must be important if the president of the company goes out of his way to drive you around.”

      For a second, Bill looked pleased. “Not really, Mike. Semper Fi is a young company, practically a start-up, but we think it has a bright future, and – honest – we’ve helped them a lot.” 

      Then Bill turned serious. “But before Chuck gets here, you should know something. Chuck was a Marine, and like maybe all Marines, the Corps really marked him. Besides the discipline and all that, Chuck spent five years in field communications, and that’s how he was bitten by the electronics bug, and that’s what decided him to study electronics, at MIT by the way, where he earned a Master’s in data systems. But his service was tough. He spent five years in the Middle East, I think a lot of time in Iraq, and something must’ve happened there, but we’ll never know what. Some of his people kind of confided to me, he never talks about it, and when I say never, it’s really never. So, please, let’s just not talk about places like Iraq or Afghanistan, you know what I mean.”

      Since we had a few minutes, I thought it was an opportunity to give Bill some good news: The Wall Street Journal had scheduled his column, the Electronic Clearing House, to appear on the Op-Ed page in two days. 

      I braced myself to get banged on the back as evidence of Bill’s enthusiastic congratulation, but Bill surprised me. 

      He looked me straight in the eye. “Mike, you came through, did what you said you’d do. Thanks.” 

      “Bill, it’s just my job. I threw a few words onto the screen,” I said. “But the technology and the ideas, what really counts, that was all you.” 

      “Yeah, sure, okay, if you want. But if you remember, back when we had our big discovery session and the ideas were flying around the room faster than we could catch them, you were a real participant, you gave as good as you got.” Then, Bill turned real serious, “I remember, and I’ll remember.”

      Bill had to run up to his room to get his briefcase, so I gave him my travel bag to stow to save me a trip upstairs, and I turned to Rani. She was a small, attractive woman, maybe in her late twenties, with very dark eyes, and she was dressed simply in a black skirt and sweater. What I really noticed about her was her hands, very small and elegant. Just to pass the time, I asked her:

      “How’d you get to Winshire?” I tried to keep it light. “Of all the places . . . “

      She looked down for a few seconds. “To be honest, it’s called student loans. It’s like having a dark cloud following me around, and . . .” 

      “Look, I didn’t mean to pry or anything, and that’s not what I expected to hear.” 

      “It’s not your fault, really,” she said. “You know I’m not the only one. But I went to Carnegie Mellon, an unbelievable program in electronics, and I wanted to really focus on my studies, and, well, the rest is history.” 

      Rani looked a little rushed. “Mike, I want to tell you something, something about Bill, before he comes back. You have to know that he’s really a rare guy, certainly in the consulting world. He’s a straight shooter, honest, keeps his promises, the whole package.”

      “Rani, thanks, I appreciate what you’re saying. I got that idea, working with him. It’s strange, I just met the guy, but it’s clear.” 

      Bill came back just a few minutes before Chuck Welch showed up. And that was an event. Even from a distance, Chuck made quite an impression.  Seeing him walking toward us, in fact marching toward us, I could imagine him in a Marine uniform, even though he was wearing jeans and a plaid short, and he was a big, muscular guy with a blond crew-cut and a killer grip when we shook hands.

      Bill introduced me as “Winshire’s genius wordsmith.” The adulation made me feel a bit uncomfortable. Of course, Bill suggested to Welch to read The Wall Street Journal’s Op-Ed section on Thursday.

      “Bill, I read it every day,” Chuck shot back. “Wouldn’t miss it, keep up on my friends and enemies.” 

      We trooped outside, and once all of us had climbed aboard Chuck’s Ford Explorer and we were on our way, Chuck took a few moments to play tour guide. 

      “Mike, you may not know it, but this, around here is our Silicon Valley,” he began. “I’m not gonna make a detour to show you, one tech castle is the same as another, but not far from here is Dell-EMC, the biggest player in data storage.” 

      We were driving through what looked like a neighborhood mini-mall, with your usual mix of grocery store, liquor store, barbershop, dry cleaner, diner, etcetera. The shops seemed to be doing fine, because there was a good number of people on the sidewalks carrying groceries and other purchases.

      Chuck continued: “EMC was big enough, but then Dell bought them out, and now they’re humongous. Call up and ask for a visit, and they send a delegation. That tells you, these guys have resources. And they don’t just sell you the cloud, they sell you ‘multiple clouds.’ Why not? Data storage was a sure thing for too long. Every Fortune 500 company doubles the data it stores every year. But for storage companies, the easy all-you-can-eat buffet’s gonna end soon. More newcomers, more competitors are coming.” 

      The landscape was changing, and I could see big industrial parks. The glass monsters behind tailored lawns, those were the luxury offices, and then low concrete buildings with fewer windows surrounded by seas of cars in parking lots, those were the manufacturing plants. As he drove, Chuck had to raise his voice because of the wind blowing through the Explorer. 

      “Us, our little shop, I gotta admit, Semper Fi is starting out kinda small,” Chuck went on. “But we’re gonna grow. We got big ideas and even more drive. Give us a little time, and – sure – with your help, we’ll be nipping at those giants’ heels, you’ll see.” 

      When we stopped at a red light, Chuck turned toward Bill and asked: “So, Bill, whadda you think? What’re our chances?” 

      Bill turned toward Chuck. “Fella, you know what I think. If we didn’t feel good about you and your crew, and your technology, we wouldn’t be here. I know you’re gonna brief us, but you can’t deny the facts: steady growth with some good-size growth spurts.”

      As we approached Semper Fi’s installation, I could see a fairly large office complex – simple, unpretentious architecture – and what I assumed was a manufacturing and assembly plant surrounded by many vehicles in the parking lot. On a relatively small patch of lawn was a sign announcing “Semper Fi Systems, Depend on Us.”   

      As Chuck pulled into his parking spot, I could see he wasn’t impressed with titles; his space was marked with one word: Chuck. After we climbed down from his Explorer, he marched us through a few hallways, until we reached a big, airy conference room. Already seated at the long table, we found four men and one woman, who I assumed were his lieutenants, and in the middle of the table was a generous selection of coffee and pastries. 

      We went through the introduction ceremony, names, greetings and hand shakes. Bill knew everyone, but still the process took a while. Then, the dog and poney show started out with Chuck. On a big screen at the end of the table, he showed us a month-by-month listing of sales and income during the current year, of each of his business sectors – manufacturing and server sales, network rental and maintenance, and system planning and service.  Each of the business sectors showed steady growth in both sales and earnings. The grand totals for the previous year were impressive, especially the last quarter. 

      Each of his lieutenants talked about their business sector. For me, it was a surprise; network rental and maintenance showed unexpected growth. But the way the youngish director explained it, the growth was logical; data storage is a necessity, and it’s expensive by definition. But it’s cheaper to lease than to buy outright. And for Semper Fi, it’s a good source of constant revenue. 

      Another director, this one in charge of manufacturing, wanted to add servers with greater capacity to the product line.It was interesting how Chuck dealt with the issue. He asked every knowledgeable party at the table for their opinion, and he added an additional question: What current projects could be sacrificed if this additional obligation were taken on? The discussion went on for quite a while, including specifics on what new capabilities should be built into a new server. But in the end, there seemed to be agreement that the company was not ready. 

      After taking a break for lunch, the entire group reassembled in the research lab to witness some demonstrations and discuss progress made in the company’s data storage technology. In particular, the technology director wanted to show off methods to increase the compatibility of customers’ internal data files. Because it was my first visit to Semper Fi, Chuck took it upon himself to explain the context and the challenge to me. 

      “You see, Mike, one big issue in data storage is format,” Chuck began. “Years ago, fifteen or so years ago, big industrial companies used maybe five or six standard formats in their servers to store data, which caused all kinds of problems, like they were blocked from easy access to their own stuff. Then, a company in New Jersey found a way to unify these standard formats. But the companies still didn’t have access to all of their their own data files; they still used different formats for their own files. But now, with your help, with a hand from Rani, we came up with a program to grab those data files and make them all march together.”

      There followed a series of test runs. To be honest, I was as lost in the discussions of technology as I was in the colors of the wires connecting this unit to this other one. All I can do is to report that the technology succeeded in translating different data formats from one server to another, numerous times over, and the dominant emotion exhibited in that lab was one of celebration. Also, both Chuck and the technology director deferred numerous times to Rani on technical issues, so I drew the conclusion that she played a role in the technology’s success. However, once the technology director suggested that Semper Fi announce its new technology to the electronics media – both print and web based – Chuck stressed caution.

       “Well, so far, it looks good,” Chuck said. “Let’s not hex it. We still got some more tests to run. Let’s hope. One of the big mistakes I see some companies make is to announce new products or new technologies, and . . .  and then bang, they don’t work. We gotta be sure when we announce anything.” 

      Then it seemed Chuck made a special statement to Bill. “We got a lot of help, good, solid advice and tech support from you folks at Winshire,” Chuck said. “If the software keeps working . . . Well, I don’t want to hex it  . . . Let me just say super. I just hope that this, and some other projects succeed, so that in a reasonable time we have the financial and production resources, and the credibility in the marketplace, to become a major player. If we do, you guys deserve a lot of credit.”

      Chuck was just as effusive as he drove us to his favorite sushi bar – it was called Sushi Mako – but I have no idea about its location. As a sushi lover, I can state that the meal was very good, along with the feeling of a day well spent. After Chuck returned us to the Holiday Inn, Rani pleaded fatigue. She told Bill that she just wasn’t accustomed to sitting through so many presentations and consuming such big dinners. “All I dream of now is my pillow.”  We bid her sweet dreams. As we watched her walk away, her gait showed she was exhausted. 

      Bill and I settled into a booth at the Holiday Inn’s bar for a last drink. Bill asked me for my conclusions from the day. 

      “Frankly, it was a wonderful day,” I started out. “Sure, I learned a lot about the data storage industry. But so much more important, I learned about the real role of the firm, what the real job of Winshire is.” 

      “Then the effort was worth it,” and it almost seemed that Bill’s eyes were tearing up. I didn’t know if it was the emotion or the Bourbon we ordered. “Thanks, Mike. Thanks for coming with an open mind.” 

      Then I moved to my agenda: “Bill, you told me that if I got into a jam, I should give you a call. Well, right now I’m calling you. I’m troubled by a few things, and I’d love to get your input. Also, let’s keep this between us, because I’m afraid if word got out that I’m snooping, . . . . well, you get my drift.” 

      “You got it.”

      “Some stuff seems really strange to me at Winshire. Did you know that the night of your arrival in New York, the night before our fantastic work session, there was a frat-boy party with hired babes or escorts and lots of booze at a ritzy club on the Upper East Side? Just for us, just for Winshire! 

      “Yeah, I did,” Bill said. “I know about ‘em. I don’t attend ‘em. That’s all.” 

      “Well, me neither,” I felt I had to set the record straight. “I gave a lame excuse and got outta there. It’s not that the babes weren’t beautiful. That’s not me, it’s not my thing.” 

      Then I just started blasting away. “Anyway, then, one day last week, I was working with Ted on a big speech, the speech he wants to give at a big firm meeting, somewhere up in Westchester. We worked a long time, and Ted kinda opened up and actually gave me an idea what he wanted to say. Anyway, while we were talking, Gordy broke in, and he wanted to explain something to Ted, something about fifty percent, an increase of fifty percent. Ted kinda dissed him, basically told him to get lost, to write down whatever he wanted to say. But it was getting late, so we, Ted and I, we called it a day. 

      “When I got back to my office, guess what?” I was talking fast. “Gordy was there, behind my desk, waiting for me. All of sudden, he was panicked. He was pleading with me. He wanted my help. It was kind of ‘help me or else.’ He wanted to know what Ted and I talked about. He told me he had to come up with some ideas, some kind of a business plan, I really don’t know. When I asked him about his fifty percent, he said it was bullshit, and that there’s a lot more bullshit going on around the firm.”

      I stopped for a moment and just looked at Bill. “So, you told me, you invited me to reach out to you, so that’s what I’m doing. What’s going on? Do you know what’s going on?”

      Bill waited, taking a long sip of his Bourbon, and then started speaking slowly. “Mike, maybe . . . with your background in journalism, it’s not like this, but in big organizations, big companies, especially if there’ big money at stake, there’s always a lot of turmoil below the surface, always some kind of a power struggle going on. I know this will sound strange to you, but it’s not normal, and at the same time it’s normal.” He stopped for a second. “And you gotta know, Ted and Gordy, they go back a long ways, and they been butting heads probably that whole time. 

      “But let me tell you, fighting for power’s not my thing.  For me, where I feel best, where I get thrilled, where I get my consultant’s high is helping good people and getting good businesses get off the ground. I love being presented with problems or opportunities, and brainstorming with smart people, and finding solutions. That’s why you’re here; I wanted to show you that with Semper Fi. And that’s what we did, you and me, that’s what we did with that column. 

      “So, for me, I don’t care who wins that fight. I know what I love about this job, and I make a good living at it, a real good living. The fights are gonna go on, no matter what. I guess we have to ask ourselves, do we want to get involved? Because the firm’s gonna survive, one way or another. And, Mike, for you, do you wanna get involved? You’re smart, and you’re good at what you do. You could just walk away. Because for us, there’s no winning. For me anyway. We’re kinda low on the totem pole.”

      I felt it was a tough session. We stayed quiet for what seemed a long time. Then, a question jumped into my head; I asked it. “What if it’s illegal?” 

      Bill’s answer came fast: “Then all bets are off.”  

      We looked at each other, and we didn’t know where to go from there. I didn’t have the facts, and I bet Bill didn’t either. We raised our glasses and savored the last drops of Bourbon, and then headed for our rooms. 

      For me, Bill laid out the choice. For me, those were good questions. Is anything illegal? And, mostly, do I want to get involved? Do I? Do I have to pick sides? Should I just walk away? Or, is that human nature? Is that the best we can be, as human beings? That night, I didn’t know. Not that night.  

-0-

      Back in my room at the Holiday Inn, I thought of calling my Dad in California. I wondered if he might have some wisdom to share. 

      Our lives had completely changed since the time we lived in Pacific Heights and I was a sophomore at Abraham Lincoln High. Of course, that was twenty-two years ago. Right now, as I’m writing this account, my mother died two years ago. She had always been the true anchor of our family. She dedicated herself to introducing her four children to all of the forms of culture – literature, music, dance, art, all of them – she could fit into the time we had, and she made clear that she loved every one of her four children equally. Her death left a void that couldn’t be filled, especially for my father. Now 85, he’s been living in an apartment in San Mateo and still running his business in a small factory in South San Francisco. 

      Dad had told me he wanted to know how Wendy and I were doing, and I knew he was lonely, so I tried to telephone him at least every few weeks. But then, I remembered the kinds of conversations we had. He loved telling me about how he closed new business deals, and when he offered me advice, I hate to admit it, but he just seemed to be talking about a world that no longer existed any more, at least for me on the East Coast. Sitting on my Holiday Inn bed with my mobile phone in my hand, I came to a realization: I just had no idea how I could describe my situation in terms he could respond to, not because of any failing or limitation on his part, but because I just didn’t really understand my own situation. 

      I did telephone him, but we had the kind of positive conversation he really wanted; I told him how fast Josh and Isaac were growing and how fast they were learning.