Sean Bissell's Posts

People have the same ideas all the time. Ever looked at an invention on TV or in a store and said to yourself, “Man! I Thought of that years ago, they stole my idea!”

And now that they have the idea, it’s hard for you to use it. Because ideas can be protected by law—copyrights, trademarks, patents. And that’s a good thing on many levels, I mean, people who come up with great ideas that help improve people’s lives should be rewarded for their efforts and protected.

But rewind thousands of years ago, before “civilization as we know it.” People let ideas emerge out of themselves all the time, insulated from the rest of the world. Humans all over the globe arrived at the same basic ideas around the same times, without ever knowing the others existed.

Using rocks for tools, using spoken for language, using written language, hunting animals, foraging plants. These are all ideas.

Even story structures ended up very similar. With many themes matching spookily from culture to culture across the globe, with no way of communicating between cultures.

These ideas just emerged out of the human existence, all over, right around the same time. Who knows what causes this, and I’m not going to speculate right now. But what is important is that they were basically the same ideas, all coming out of human nature, emerging naturally.

But no one was trying to “own” these ideas. There was not the same level of “that’s my idea” as there is today.

Because of our sudden value on idea ownership, we have valued originality over almost everything else. And this can be good for innovation, but it can also really horrible for things like nutrition, and diet.

Why? Because in order to be acknowledged anymore, you need your own idea. Your own unique twist on something that exists. And that doesn’t necessarily mean better. It just means, different and unique enough to “own.” It’s MINE!

Sure, this could be good for the “evolution of ideas”, maybe. But it’s also just lots of people trying to lay a stake in the ground, to try and be seen, to try and be significant. It’s hard to do that with an existing idea, you just look like a copycat. And the fact that a “copycat” is a negative word in our society is a symptom of the idea that you must have original ideas or you are irrelevant.

Who cares if the idea is better or worse, as long as you can make the idea different, and market it as better, then you’ve won, regardless of whether it really is better.

This causes diet and nutrition gurus to invent strange, new, and extreme diets that are “different” from the rest, and look better as a result. Even if they are actually harmful to their “customers/believers.”

This attitude is so intertwined into our society now that I don’t even think people who create products realize they are doing this. They just know instinctively that if it’s not different enough, they can’t sell it. And we as consumers also feel this instinctive tug, if it’s not “new and improved” or a “guarded secret” then we don’t want it.

Ideas created in this way are likely not born out of our true nature as humans, they’re ideas made from the building blocks of idea competition. Ideas not born of ourselves, but bred from other ideas, which are not our own. Like petri dish idea science experiments living in our brains, instead of letting the idea flowers grow out of us naturally.

The problem is that what grows from us naturally has probably already been done before.

Read more

NoodleFruitForSaleWhen I was 6 years old I wanted to make lemonade stand money.

But it wasn’t summer. And I lived in Seattle.

Rain. Clouds. Dark. Not really the time for a lemonade stand.

Besides, even my 6 year old brain knew lemonade was a commodity.

I would innovate.

But where to start?

Lemonade was out—and I didn’t want to be unoriginal with cookies—the girl scouts already conquered that market. Boy scouts took popcorn…

I needed something new, original, fun, and great tasting. Something no one had ever thought of before.

And with that burning determination I got to work in the kitchen.

Days later, and after some close calls with sharp objects and boiling water, I had created…

Noodlefruit!

What is Noodlefruit you ask? 

A combination of noodles and fruit. Naturally!

Sure, maybe this wasn’t the best thought out plan. But hey, Noodlefruit tasted great, and taught me a lot in the process.

Here’s 4 things I learned from creating, producing, and selling Noodlefruit. 

1.) Your market’s product, problem, and solution awareness should determine your sales approach.

If I had been selling lemonade I could have sat by the road. I could have put a pitcher of lemonade on a card table. I could have displayed a sign that said, “Lemonade, 25 Cents.” Or maybe I could have gotten a little more clever with the wording.

My prospects would have remembered other lemonade stands in their own neighborhood. They might have even set up a lemonade stand of their own in the past.

The point being, prospects in this market would have already known about lemonade stands.
With a lemonade stand there would be very little confusion or skepticism, and I wouldn’t need to educate my prospects on the wonderful taste and refreshing qualities of lemonade.

They also understood their problem and the solution to that problem. 

The problem wasn’t that they were thirsty and needed a drink. The problem was that there was a kid, with puppy-dog-eyes, right in front of them, asking for only a small amount of money to make that kid’s dreams come true.The solution to that problem was for the prospect to simply give 25 cents to the kid. Drink their lemonade and smile.

To recap: The lemonade stand market is very product, problem and solution aware. 

However, the Noodlefruit market was a whole different story.

I knew that if I set up a “Noodlefruit stand” on the side of the road, cars would be driving by with their heads rubbernecking in confusion. But I doubted I’d get anyone to actually stop.

“Hey honey, did you see that little kid? What the heck was he selling? Noodles?”

They were completely product unaware. And they didn’t currently have a problem that they associated Noodlefruit to as the answer.

The Noodlefruit market was product unaware, problem unaware, and solution unaware.

So, I had to make them aware. But not through some costly advertising channel.

I was a kid! I didn’t have that kind of money! I needed to “bootstrap” my way to success.

I’d have to go beat the street and walk door to door. 

My prospects may have been problem unaware, but I was going to make myself their problem. I was going to show up at their front door with a little red wagon full of Noodlefruit, pre-packaged in little dixie cups.

As soon as they opened their door… I was their problem.

But, good news, I had the solution. 

Just buy my Noodlefruit and everything will be awesome. I promise.

2.) Selling something feels very vulnerable.

Everyone knows rejection hurts, and most people avoid it however they can.

Studies have shown that our brains see rejection as the same thing as physical pain. Pain killers even work to help ease the pain of rejection.

When you’re selling something, you are essentially standing in front of someone and saying “Hey, please don’t punch me in the face.”

But you know full well, most people will need to say “I’m sorry, but I have to punch you right now.”

And they should. 

No one can possibly say yes to every sales pitch they encounter. That would be crazy.

But every time they say no to a salesperson, that salesperson feels physical and mental pain.

The good news is that salespeople build up resistance to being punched in the face over time, and they feel the pain less intensely. But the fact remains, they are experiencing some level of real pain with every rejection.

People know that on some deep level, and that’s a big part of what makes sales scary. Standing in front of someone who has the power to deliver a punch to your face with just one word.

“No.”

Anyone who says rejection doesn’t hurt is lying.

Beyond the inevitable pain, selling makes you visible. 

If you walk around door to door in your neighborhood, you are no longer anonymous. You have now made an impression on the people you interacted with.

And it’s usually a very strong impression.

It’s not like you are just saying “Hey! How are ya?” Or having a conversation about the weather.

If you’re selling something, even in the lowest pressure of sales situations, you’re still asking for something. You’re creating an uncomfortable situation for the majority of people.

On the other hand, they might delighted that you added some fun and excitement to their day. You have something new and exciting to show them.

“Hey! Honey! Come see what this kid is selling!”

In either situation, it is not a neutral interaction. You have made an impression. You either made people like you more, or like you less than the average random person.

Now they remember you. 

If they make a purchase, you are now responsible for their product experience. If they have a good experience, then that reflects positively on you. If they have a bad experience, then you are associated with the negative experience.

In any situation, more people are now exposed to you, more people know you, more people have an opinion of you, and it is much harder to hide in the shadows.

You are now visible, accountable, and responsible for a part of people’s lives.

That’s tough at any age.

3.) How to execute on an idea.

It’s one thing to come up with an idea. And it’s a completely different thing to bring that idea into the world.

I was lucky to have a supportive and loving family. They helped me implement along every step of the way. They bought me the noodles, the fruit, the pots and pans, the red wagon and the dixie cups.

My mom and dad even helped me prepare and package Noodlefruit.

I’m very grateful that they didn’t immediately knock down my Noodlefruit idea as being too silly or crazy. They could have easily said things like, “That would never work”, or “Why don’t you just set up a lemonade stand?”

Instead, all they did was enable my crazy idea, and help me along the way.

If it weren’t for them, Noodlefruit would have never happened.

This is similar to having a great team to help execute an idea. Your team must support the big idea, and work together to make it happen.

I got to experience the product creation process from idea, to creation, to sales.

That simple process is the engine behind any successful business.

And it takes a supportive team to run that engine.

4.) Unless your product is awesome, no one will buy again.

You don’t see many kids behind lemonade stands handing out business cards along with their glasses of lemonade. And that’s because they know they’re only in business for as long as they’re standing on that corner.

They know no one will be beating down their door for more of their lemonade when they’re thirsty tomorrow.

That’s because most lemonade at lemonade stands is just average. Most people could easily buy the same thing at a store for less money. And therefore, they are going to go to the store when they want lemonade.They won’t be calling those kids on the corner.

In order for people to come back for more, you need a superior product, and the lemonade at lemonade stands just don’t cut it.

I don’t think Noodlefruit did either. Sure, it was new, interesting, and I believe it tasted pretty good. But was it mind blowingly good? No.

Could I have sold more if I kept doing rounds to the same people over and over again? Probably. But it would have been a harder sale every time around.

In order for a business to have repeat customers coming back willingly, without much push on your end, you need to have a truly great product that people find themselves wanting to buy. Even when the lemonade stand is shut down, or the Noodlefruit salesman is not at your door.

Read more

UW TunnelsDid you know there are over 7 miles of interconnecting tunnels that run underneath the University of Washington?

They are dark, narrow, and hot. Over 110 degrees hot. 

If you brush against the pipes, your skin will melt. I saw it happen.

High school students were brought there and hazed in the year 1999. I was there.

It all started when my friends Daniel, Aaron and I, enrolled in an off-campus class in our Junior year of high school.  It was a network technologies class. 2 hours a day.

The class was held in the bottom of a high school for dropouts or expelled kids who needed a second chance.

The school was in the bad part of town.

Once, I walked out the front door and was pushed back inside by an officer in full SWAT gear.

Someone crashed a car into the house across the street. They ran upstairs and took someone hostage. We all watched as it unfolded, our faces glued to the windows.

The school was rough, but we learned a lot about routers, modems, switches, and basically how to set up and maintain computers on a network in a corporate environment.

We ended up wiring that entire broken down school, drilled holes in floors and walls, ran CAT5 cable, terminated wires, set up modems and routers, and configured computers. In 1999 it was a unique skill to have, and we were proud.

As the year came to an end, our teacher let us know that she had a summer job offer for the students. Daniel, Aaron and I decided to interview.

The interview was interesting. They didn’t give much detail about the job.But they did say we would be installing and terminating cable, setting up modems and routers, and maybe configuring computers.

Sounded right up our alley. 

Oh, and then they mentioned the pay. $12.09 an hour. That was more than I had ever made. The highest I had been paid per hour before that was $5.35.

All 3 of us were excited.

Our first job was on the campus of the University of Washington. That sounded great. Established. Credible. Academic. We were pumped.We showed up at the job site and did some quick introductions. There were 4 other people on the team. If you added us, it was 7 total.

The two guys that stand out in my mind were Joshau and DJ Dougy Fresh.

Joshau was a beast of a human, about 6 foot 5 inches tall, and 250 pounds of solid muscle. He drove a huge white truck with neon orange racing stripes. And yes his name was Joshau, not Joshua. He said his mom accidentally switched the “u” and the “a” on his birth certificate and never changed it out of pride.

DJ Dougy Fresh, was a goofy, shaggy, curly-haired, skinny-guy in his late twenties. He always looked down at his feet, bounced around, and never stood still. Whenever he stepped outside a smoke was instantly lit and between his lips.

The two other guys I hardly remember, they seemed like generic expendable goons in a movie, just extras in the cast to beef up the environment.

“So where do we start?” Aaron asked.

Chuckling. Joshau said, “You’ll see, follow us.”

Fully expecting to walk through the prestigious and beautiful hallways of the University of Washington, and end up in a classroom somewhere, we were disoriented and confused as we began to walk inside a parking garage, then  downstairs. Then down more stairs, and more… Eventually we opened a door.

And we saw it. 

A huge roll of thick black wire, taller than Joshau, on a wooden spindle, just staring at us.

Without talking, DJ Dougy Fresh bent down near the massive roll of wire and opened up a latch on the floor.

The latch opened up to a dark abyss. He dropped down inside. Disappearing.

Joshau said, “get in boys!”

Daniel looked at me, shrugged, and dropped down too.

I didn’t want to be last, so I tried not to think too much, mustered up some courage, and dropped down myself.A wave of heat blasted me in the face, and throughout my entire body, I immediately felt all the sweat glands in my body wake up and start churning.

I thought, “It must be 120 degrees in here!”

Once my brain recovered from the shock of the heat, my eyes started adjusting to the light.

A long straight tunnel expanded further than I could see in either direction. On the left there were thick metal pipes stacked on each other. To the right there were stacks of wires held up by metal trays.

There wasn’t enough room to put my arms out to the side without hitting my elbows against the wires and pipes.

Joshau yelled, “Whatever you do, DON’T TOUCH THE PIPES.” 

He pointed at his face with both fingers, swished his mouth around a few times, then spit onto the pipes. With a sharp hiss, the spit instantly evaporated into steam and floated to the top of the tunnel.

We nodded in bewilderment. No touching the pipes.

As we walked, Joshau yelled, “There’s 7 miles of interconnecting tunnels just like this under the University, and they want us to wire them up with fiber optic cables.”

He kept walking, “That means we’re taking wires from the top, and running them through the tunnels to the end points. It’s going to take team work, and it won’t be easy, but we can do it.”

Joshau banged on a swinging metal door, “You see these gates? These gates show up about every quarter mile, if they close on you then you’re stuck inside. We tie them off with rope to keep them open. So don’t mess with the rope. Only I have the key. Don’t let these close on you.”

My head was reeling trying to take in all of this, what did we get ourselves into?

We started pulling the cable from the spindle and would hand it off to the next person at set intervals. Maybe 200 yards apart.

Once everyone was at their spot, pulling the cable became kind of like a one-way game of tug of war.Each time you grabbed the cable to pull, it would jitter, stutter, bounce around, and sometimes completely get locked up.

The 110 degree heat and the constant jittery-pulling induced drenching-sweat beyond anything I’d ever experienced.

It was the type of sweat that started out as thousands of perfectly formed beads. Eventually it became a salty sheen that would build up, sting your eyes, and puddle around you.That pool of sweat didn’t last too long as it soon evaporated from the intense heat.

Quickly we found out one of the perks of the job. Every hour there was a mandatory break due to health regulations.

We would use our cable as navigation and climb back up top. Often a very long walk. Sometimes a mile.

A blast of cold air would welcome us, accompanied by literally a truck load of Gatorade bottles. We would guzzle them down, pant, wipe our brows, chat for about 15 minutes, and then go back down below again.

I had never drank so much Gatorade in my life.

Weirdly no one ever needed to pee. It went straight out our sweat pores.

The third time we went above for a Gatorade break, we noticed that our friend Aaron wasn’t looking so great.I figured it was probably normal, as I’m sure I looked like hell too. I sure felt like it. Daniel didn’t look too great either.But something seemed a little off with Aaron, even for this situation. We just shrugged it off. We were doing our best to cope with the strange situation we had found ourselves in.

When we went back down again, we picked up our same stations and started pulling once again.

It felt hotter this time. Probably the contrast. 

We kept pulling. Stutter, jitter, jumpy cable.

Then it totally stopped. Hard. Then went slack, smooth. Something was up.

I could hear a voice yelling at the top of their lungs from far down the tunnel, then another voice picked it up and repeated. Then another.

“STOP PULLING! GO UP TOP!”

Once I heard it, I found myself yelling it down the line too, “STOP PULLING! GO UP TOP!”

Up top we all huddled together, not drinking Gatorade this time, wondering what was up. In a few minutes DJ Dougy Fresh climbed up from the tunnels.

He walked over to us and said, “Heat exhaustion. Your buddy Aaron yacked all over the place. Almost fainted too.”

Daniel and I looked at each other in shock.

DJ Dougy Fresh continued, “I think he’s OK, but they’re going to keep an eye on him. I don’t think we can let him back down in the tunnels.”

And it turns out we wouldn’t see Aaron in the tunnels again…It was a bit discouraging to not have Aaron as part of our team any longer, but after a couple weeks Daniel and I slowly got used to the rhythm, the heat, and the narrow tunnels.

I even started recognizing parts of the tunnels, whereas before the whole place seemed like a repeating never-ending maze. It was fun to explore the hidden depths of the university hardly anyone knew existed.

But what wasn’t fun, and what I did not expect, was the hazing.

At first everyone was pretty nice to Daniel Aaron and myself, but shortly after Aaron was out of the tunnels, the game began to change.It started slow.

First, they would ask us to go up top to find something like a left handed wrench for one of the guys.

Of course, a left handed wrench doesn’t exist. They knew that. We knew that.

But when we couldn’t find the imaginary tool, it was a perfect excuse to be punished with the gruntiest of grunt work.

Next they had us lug a heavy bags full of tools around with us “just in case.” The bags were difficult to maneuver in the narrow tunnels and the heat made them even heavier. Of course, we never ended up needing what was in those bags.

They just wanted to watch us sweat and squirm.

Next was the longest running “gag.” If we did anything that was even slightly “wrong”, talked back, or showed any sign of disrespect, disobedience, or for any other reason… They would all start chanting “Nooooo Gatowaaaddee!” In a mocking baby-talk tone.

Sometimes “Nooooooo Gatowaaaaaaddeee!” would be chanted in a group. Other times you’d hear it echo from a quarter mile down the tunnel and then be repeated on down the line.

And, as the chant implied, you would no longer get your Gatorade on that break.

I learned very quickly to know my role and not attract any unneeded attention. This helped me avoid bad situations, but Daniel on the other hand is a loud-mouth and doesn’t take crap from people. I respect that about him. But this cost him many Gatorades and I found myself sneaking him some when I could.

Daniel’s hard hardheadedness and strong spirit drove the guys on the site to pull out the big guns to try and break him.

While we were walking through one of the hottest segments of the tunnels Daniel was in the back of the line. DJ Dougy Fresh told Daniel to go back and grab something they dropped about 100 yards back.

As Daniel walked back through the tunnel, I saw Joshau shut the nearby gate and snicker. When Daniel came back, he got close enough to see the gate was closed and he said “Hey guys, can you open the gate for me?”

“Sure” said Joshau, and looked for his keys to unlock the gate.

“Wait, I can’t find my keys. Hold on.” He bumbled.

“Man, looks like I must have dropped ’em. You might want to go back in there and try and find them, I’m not sure where they are. Really sorry man. I’ll wait here.”

Daniel looked a bit shocked, trying to figure out if this was serious or another “joke”.

We all knew that this could be bad. There was only one set of keys, and to get another set would be tricky. Especially because hardly anyone on the UW campus even knew about these tunnels, let alone where to get a spare key.

Daniel went back to try and find the key. I told him I’d wait for him and look for the key on my side.

The other guys went up top to “see if the key was up there”.

It was already late in the day, and we were about to head home. Not only was Daniel trapped, but potentially the whole team was held up from going home.

5, 10, 15, 20, then 30 minutes went by. Tired and sweaty both Daniel and I frantically searched for the missing key, knowing that we would likely not find it.

A guy from the team came down. I thought, “Great! Good news! He probably found the key, or has a spare.”

Instead, he let us know that the office that has the spare key is closed for the day, and we won’t be able to get another key until tomorrow morning.

Looks like Daniel would have to spend the night in the scorching hot tunnels with no relief.

Panic set in. What were we going to do? What would we tell our parents? Would Daniel survive? Should I stay with him?

It felt like hours passed. Daniel was scared. I was scared. I told Daniel I’d be right back. I was going up top to see what was happening.These guys were just hanging out, waiting, chatting, they didn’t seem worried at all, they seemed pretty happy.

I asked what the plan was. They shrugged their shoulders, then looked around at each other.

DJ Dougy Fresh said “Time?”

Joshau said, “Time.”

Joshau walked towards the entrance to the tunnels. I followed him back to where Daniel was locked.

I watched as he did a not-so-sly move of dropping the keys on the ground. He then pretended to look around and said, “Here they are! How could you guys not see these?”

He unlocked the door and let Daniel out.

Daniel didn’t say much, nor did I, and nor did the rest of the team. We didn’t talk about that incident, that day or after.

But something changed.

Daniel’s spirit didn’t break, and I think DJ Dougy Fresh and Joshau knew they went too far.

Somehow that torturous act had a normalizing effect and we became on the same level together. It was a strange mix of resentment and mutual respect after that point.

Work was strange for about a week, people were quiet, but slowly after we became a tight team. Everyone got Gatorade.

We even created some unorthodox methods for pulling the cable quicker. And we finished the job ahead of schedule.

After each successful cable pull Joshau would yell and jump at the top of his lungs, “We kicked that cable’s ass!”

I learned a lot from that experience. Sometimes I think that I shouldn’t have put up with their crap, that I should have stood up for myself, that I should have quit.

But another part of me is glad I did put up with it, that I did navigate that insane physical and social landscape, that I was able to maintain my friendship with Daniel, and become accepted as part of the team even in that environment.

  • I learned that even if something is super scary and intimidating, you can usually do it if you just put your head down and power through.
  • I learned that age difference is often irrelevant. We were 17 year old kids working with people in their early 30’s and by the end it hardly mattered.
  • I learned that if you do work that no one else wants to do, you can get paid a lot more than anyone else.
  • I learned to know my role and respect those with more experience, expertise and knowledge than myself.
  • I learned that there really are entire hidden worlds right under your feet. Secrets are real.
  • I learned that hazing can help a team bond, but there is a line that should not be crossed. Finding that line is difficult and dangerous.

I can’t say I was sad to leave those tunnels, but they’ll always have a place in my heart.

And so will Joshau and DJ Dougy Fresh.

Read more