“Do something awesome …something amazing.”
That was the job description given to me a long time ago just before I accepted a position at a small start-up IT company. I was trying to break out of the life-drag called Corporate America and during the interview process I asked for more details on my potential job duties. And the quote above is was what I heard in reply. When I realized he wasn’t kidding I was …moved. I was so inspired that I wanted desperately to do something, well, awesome and amazing. It was everything I needed to hear at that point in my life. With that one sentence I had been both empowered and granted personal accountability. The trust coupled with expectation that was handed to me was nothing less than food to my starving motivation. In the year that followed I
Last year, amongst many other things, I bred a ghost mojave to a 100% het ghost black pastel spider (black bee). Sounds like a cool pairing, right? To my knowledge the ghost mojave black bee hasn’t been produced yet and I was gunning to be the first. With eight eggs in the incubator I was feeling optimistic; all I needed was a little love from the Odds Gods and I would hit on something amazing to share with the world. I watched with hopeful anticipation as the eggs finally pipped. And like a popped water balloon I felt the excitement rushing out of my body as I checked the contents of each egg. Disappointment. Disappointment. Disappointment. To say that I got murdered on the odds was a bit of an understatement. But I didn’t just miss on the ghost mojave black bee. The clutch didn’t produce a single ghost black bee, honey bee, ghost mojave,
Not really a tough question, I suspect. Money in-hand is tangible and usable; it represents capability. In order for me to convince you to wait for money in the future it has to be more than what you can have today. But how much more? If the offer was $5,000 today or $5,200 in four years I feel pretty confident that you would still reject the deal and opt for today as the payday. The capacity for progress created by having money in hand will trump the promise of a meager future return. What the exact future return needs to be in order to entice someone to take the deal is going to vary from person to person. But barring extreme and pressing financial need most people will eventually agree to wait for a future payday.
Every year I am fortunate enough to produce some absolutely amazing ball pythons. There have been a tiny handful of times when the animal I produced was unique to the world, the first combination of its kind. I admit, it’s a neat feeling. Being the first to make a particular morph and getting to name it is a goal for many in the business. The naming of a morph is your chance to become a permanent, albeit largely irrelevant, part of the industry’s history. It’s unlikely that anyone will remember that it was you who named it or that you were the first but you and a small group of others will always know. Die in a car crash tomorrow and you will soon be forgotten by most. But the name given to that designer morph combination will still have the moniker you decided. That small contribution to something that will outlast you is, well, …cool.
Ball python enthusiasts often ask others for advice while trying to determine which ball python investment is the best. Unfortunately, questions such as these don’t come with straight answers. The best response is different for each of us and it is only after a bit of self-assessment that any of us can really hope for useful conclusions. In the end the only person from whom you can get a complete answer is yourself. Despite the very best advice from others you ultimately have to figure it out on your own. It’s your motivations that lead toward the best answer. Is it money that moves you? Recognition, perhaps? Or is it the challenge? A sense of accomplishment, maybe? A little bit of each? Knowing the answer will take you closer to making the best decision about which morph is the best investment.
Note: Before reading this you need to know a few things:
– Compared to the average blog post this is long …very long. It’s more like a chapter than a blog post.
– The purpose of this post is not to try and discourage ball python breeders. Quite the opposite, actually. I am enthusiastic about the prospects of this business and I want people who decide to be in it, myself included, to understand the consequences of their choices and adjust their behavior in order to allow an opportunity for profit.
– I am neither an economist nor an accountant. I’m just a guy with a spreadsheet and an opinion; a perspective for your consideration.
By my standards and expectations last year was a tough breeding season. In addition to losing a few key clutches during incubation I had an amazing number of clutches that bludgeoned me on the odds. At times it was depressing. But one thing that all breeders rely on is the fact that sooner or later the odds tend to swing around in their favor. It’s the nature of averages; sometimes you win, sometimes you don’t. Last season wasn’t all bad, though. I had a few moments that really stood out. My perspective is arguably tainted, mind you. With very few exceptions I do not try to produce single-gene carrying animals and producing things like black pewters, albino spiders, super pastels, and bumble bees has become business as usual. While I am certainly very glad to produce those animals I have my genetic sights set much higher. As I type two-gene animals are a common (but often still pricey) staple of the industry while the immediate future is in 3, 4 and 5-gene animals. To steal the words of a friend of mine, “I’m not in this for socialist reasons. In this business there will be winners and losers.
“The things you own end up owning you.” – Tyler Durden
I’m self-employed. I have been that way for almost a decade. In addition to my reptile enterprise I am a founding owner of a small information technology (IT) company. Because I have a passion for computer networking and information security I long ago decided to start my own business doing the thing I love. That is a theme familiar to a lot of self-employed people and if you are not currently self-employed I’ll wager that a good number of you aspire to one day be so. For those of you not currently at the helm of your own enterprise let me remind you of an expression I’m sure you have heard before: “The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.” Owning your own business does nothing to eliminate the stress and frustration you
They say the first step on the road to recovery is admitting you have a problem. Well, after several years of denial and inner-confusion I have come to realize that I have an odd sort of problem. Now that I know I have it I’m not entirely sure what do to about it. It vexes me because it’s part of me, I internalized it long ago. People who don’t suffer from one type of affliction or another often don’t understand why people struggle with such things. Skinny people who eat to live can’t figure out why fat people live to eat. People with no particular desire to gamble are baffled by the compulsion others have to do it. Souls at the mercy of a bottle of Jack Daniels are odd to people who don’t have any desire for a drink on Friday night. The problem I have may be just as elusive to understand as those just mentioned. My problem is the strange combination of ball pythons and money. It’s a multi-faceted problem with the ever-present “too much out, not enough in” issue riding on top of the heap. But the problem I’m writing ab out today is not how much money is coming or going; it’s about how the money goes after it comes.
Pull any breeder aside and they will tell you that there is no better way to build an excellent reptile collection than to produce your own babies and raise them. The problem is that it usually takes forever to build a collection worthy of note when you do it this way. Producing new morphs of your own is an incredibly gratifying accomplishment, though. It’s a big part of the reason that so many of us are in this business. Pretty much every breeder holds back a few animals each year but it’s often a tough call to to determine which ones and how many to set aside. Producing something cool and deciding to keep it means your pocket is ultimately missing some cash. Sell it and your collection is not as cool the following year. It’s a constant battle. Unless you are financially well-to-do from other sources you do, at some point, have to take the money. But that point is different for each of us. People who know me know that I am a notorious ball python hoarder. I hold back a lot of production each year. It is an addiction for which I am unable to find a cure.