City of Babble

Most of San Francisco lies in a grid. It lacks the topologically wandering avenues of Pittsburgh or Boston. Sure there is Lombard, but at either end of the crooked tourist magnet is pure grid. No, the real exception is Market Street, the cross-town traversal nightmare. It is the off-kilter divider of downtown, and its pedestrians share the slightly skewed view of the world.

There is a man who wears a Christmas hat year round and carries a sign offering poems for a price. Another has long streamers that flow out of his glasses, wears a trench coat, and tends to mumble to himself. And in that sense he isn't that much different than another special form of market street life - the cell phone shufflers.

The latest phones have a built in microphone and earpiece. Technology that was once reserved for the secret service to track interns around the White house now makes its users seem like they are conversing into the ether. They ramble past Stacey's bookstore and Wendy's talking very loudly about "B2B", "Open Source IPOs", and "e-pricing in web time." - word combinations that didn't exist when Michael Jordan was playing basketball and the hum was about "portals" and "push." Somebody important must have thought to start words with the letter "e" than "p". This has result that our tobacco billboards have been replaced by e-bay, e-trade, and e-toys. More addicting than nicotine is commerce.

Or perhaps it's the potential of commerce. Companies with no real idea of how they are going to make money are giving away stuff to other companies that also aren't making any money, but these deals cause more buzz and further financing. Layer after layer this city of babble is being built as the cash is being pumped across the north of Market Street to the south, orthogonal to the direction gold went 150 years ago, when the first wave of entrepreneurs reached the city.

So the question comes up as to why the guy on market street mumbling about "virtual servers" is going to be paid 30 million more than the guy trying to huck poems. That there is such a large gap between thestreet.com and "Street Sheet."

I think the difference is the guy with a cell phone has a community that believes in him. It is not only his contacts stored in a palm pilot - the investment bankers, the lawyers, the accountants, and the marketing research firm, but also a nation that has decided to throw the retirement dice into the NASDQ. If the idea was just his and his alone, it wouldn't get past the frighten tourists to whom he shouted leaving the Embarcadero. Even though we are spending a great deal of our time building a digital network, in the end the personal one is the one that became the most important.

The concept that a team joined together around a common belief can accomplish far more than the sum of its members is not a new one. Our country was founded in part on that concept (as well as lowering the stamp tax, and better roads around Boston) as was for that matter the A-team. And while our group lacks the insanity of Murdoch and perhaps the wisdom of Jefferson, we do wondrous things.

The research does make a difference. We do get people into the best shape of their lives. And on those days when it doesn't rain we have a great timedoing it.

For all of his boxing prowess, I am not sure if Mr. T. ever ran a marathon. Some how I don't see him working the water stops, or going over a fundraising letter with his mentor group. However, in the mid '90's he was diagnosed with T-cell lymphoma. We run for him.

So when you cross market street on a buddy run or during the marathon, I hope you take a moment to appreciate the tilted nature of our city. I dovery much enjoy running with you folks.

But perhaps, I am just babbling.