Warning to readers: This is not my typical blog post about venture capital, entrepreneurship, startups, etc.  This is a very personal, unfiltered stream of thoughts.  If you have a problem with profanity – stop now.

Dear Mike,

I still remember giving you shit about your middle name.  Austin.  “The 6 Million Dollar Man”.  I’ve no idea why I still remember that, but I do.  I suppose some things are just indelibly etched into one’s mind.  That’s the funny thing about being in the military – you tend to forget the big shit, and remember silly little things like that.

Writing this is hard.  Really, really, really hard.

I remember your deceptive baby face.  Behind those blue eyes, blonde hair, and youthful good looks, you were built like a brick shit house.  You were quick to laugh at even the silliest of my jokes, and just as quick to punch someone’s fucking lights out if they were getting stupid. Even so, you know, I don’t think I ever saw you in a sour mood?  Not once.  Even when the shit was really bad, you just smiled, made a joke, and kept on trucking.  You have no idea how many days and nights that kept me going.

Twenty years ago, you and I were on a shared journey.  When  that journey was over, we both got swept up in life, and went our separate ways.

You died 7 years ago.  St. Patrick’s Day, in 2002.  And I just found out about it.  I am angry at myself for not picking up the phone, and calling you more often – keeping in touch – being a friend.

It’s a sad fact of life that  guys don’t write Christmas cards.  We never call home.  We do a pretty crappy job of keeping in touch with the people we care about.  I wish it weren’t that way – because now, it’s too late for me.  I can’t grab you, shake you, and look you in the eyes and tell you all of the things that I should have been saying to you for the past twenty years.  I can’t save you from yourself.  But I can’t dwell on it, can I?  Such is the nature of a soldier’s training:  Put it where it needs to be.  Toughen up.  Move on.  Deal with it later. I can’t help it, though.  It hurts.  I’m crying right now just writing this.

In 1990, we were ramping up for the Persian Gulf War.  I still remember the day that I got my little love note from Uncle Sam in the mailbox, gently letting me know that I still belonged to them, even though I had been out for 6 months or so.  You drew morgue duty back in the States.

The last time I spoke with you was in 1991, just after the war.  I was back home in Georgia, and you had made your way back to Connecticut.  We talked about things a bit, and I could tell you were dealing with it as best as you could, but you were different.  We were trained for button-pushing tank combat, where you rarely, if ever, were in close proximity to enemy combatants.  You, however, had to endure seeing the effects of war up close and personal – dead G.I.s – 379 of them all told.

My wife asked me how close we were as friends … back in the day.  “Pretty damn close,” I said.  Then, I thought about it.  Did you know that we had nearly 2,200 meals together?  Even though most of them were terrible, we made the best of it.  We also drank an estimated 2,086 beers and almost 600 shots of whiskey together.  There is the healthy side, too.  Conversely, we also ran almost 2,500 miles together, and did a whopping 36,000+ pushups together.  We spent a ridiculous amount of time in the “great outdoors” together, too:  Hohenfels, Grafenwoehr, Area Mud, Winter Warrior, REFORGER, FTX, rollouts, alerts, lariat advances, you name it. Nothing says “good times” like toting an M16 and freezing your ass off in a few feet of German snow. That’s the kind of shit that makes you a brother for life.

I remember sneaking your girlfriend into the barracks, because women weren’t allowed in the barracks back in those days.  We’d dress her up in some Army sweats, pull the hoodie over her head, and distract the CQ while we ran her up the stairwell.  You still owe me for that, by the way.

I remember pouring back what seemed like a truckful of Hefe Weissens and going out to get tattoos.  You decided to get a big red rose that stretched across your bicep.  You wanted a banner underneath it.  And while the rest of us were happy getting some gal’s name permanently inked onto our bodies, you simply put “Langster”.  I remember saying to you – “Really?  You are putting your fucking nickname on your arm?”  And of course, there was your reply.  “You idiots are going to break up with those chicks at some point, and you’re gonna be stuck looking at her name for the rest of your life.  Me?  My name ain’t ever gonna change.”

Guess what, bro?  You were right.

I remember looking at you one morning in the field.  You were brushing your teeth for what seemed like the 12th time that morning.   I asked you why in the hell you were brushing your teeth so much out here in the middle of nowhere, since there were no women out here to impress.  I remember you smirking and whispering in your best “tough-guy-who-is-respecting-light-and-noise-discipline” voice:  “Hey!  Hygiene is fucking important, douchebag!”. That still cracks me up to this day.

I remember pulling guard duty together in the cold air of Grafenwoehr one night.  After our watch, you pulled your Sony Walkman out of your field jacket and plopped in a cassette tape that your sister Heidi sent you.  She would always send you tapes of new music that was hitting the charts back in the States.  I still remember you handing it to me saying “Damn, bro, you gotta hear this band.  They call themselves Guns ‘n Roses.  This song Sweet Child O’ Mine is pretty awesome. These guys are gonna be big.”  Personally, I thought they were overrated.  Again, you were right.

There were countless times where I was tasked with doing something, and you were never far behind me, ready to help your squadmate out.  You were always ready to pitch in and help out your brothers.  We always knew where to find you – at the center of the fight.  Which is why it is so hard for me to understand what happened.   I just got off the phone with our old friend Dreier – the old man of the bunch – then 27, now 47. I told him the news, and like me, he is struggling for answers.

In talking with your friends and family, I am learning more about your journey in life after our time together overseas. Some things are better to be kept in the heart, rather than in print or on the Internet, and I am sensitive to that.  I do not profess to fully understand what happened, Mikie.  But I’m trying. I swear to god I am trying.

In some cosmic way, I feel like I let you down when you needed me the most in your life.  I could have, should have, would have … been there to help you. Had I just known.  Damnit, had I just known!  I would have dropped everything going on in my life if it meant making even the slightest difference for you in your own life. My wife keeps telling me that there was nothing I could do.  And deep down inside, I know she’s right.  But it doesn’t matter. You are gone, and you aren’t coming back.

This is a burden that I will carry in my heart until the day I die.

From me, Dreier, Harmon, Sinke, Gerdes, Woodberry, Hyatt, Cortez, Shepherd, Gonzalez, Cervantes, Bolden, Rivers, and the rest of 3/64 Armor, 3d Infantry Division:  Rock of the Marne, bro.  Eight times, Keeyah.

Rest in peace, man.

Michael Austin Lang
U.S. Army, 3d Infantry Division
1969-2002

You were a damn fine soldier, a good man, and a best friend. Save a spot at the bar for me.  The next round is on me.

Your eternal friend and fellow Marne dog,

Scott Burkett
U.S. Army, 3d Infantry Division

Jason Calacanis has a new cause.  He is railing against the so-called “pay-to-pitch” phenomenon.  A good read – check it out here.

My views on the pay-to-pitch thing are pretty well known, as I’ve written about it a ton in the past, and we’ve torn the topic to shreds several times on the podcast.  And I think we (the larger community, of which I am but a small part) have done a pretty good job here in Atlanta, at least, of (A) educating the entrepreneurs, and (B) tearing down the walls that allowed that sort of thing to come about in the first place.  Many of the pay-to-pitch groups don’t even bother with Atlanta any more (because they know they’ll get a boot in the face from the community). But I will add a few additional thoughts here …

I think the fact that someone with Jason’s “web-clout” is a bit late in jumping on this bandwagon is illustrative (to me, at least), of how “disconnected” the valley-minded crowd can be from the rest of the country.  Don’t get me wrong – I want Jason to fight the good fight   But StartupLounge (and others) have been screaming about this, and fighting against it, for several years.

There is a difference between someone in a place like the Valley paying to pitch, and someone in Des Moines, or Tampa, or Atlanta, et al.

If you are paying to pitch in the Valley, you and/or your idea, must really blow. It’s like the handful of applications for CapitalLounge that we get from startups in California that want to come to Atlanta to find money.  Wow – really? WTF?

If you are paying to pitch in some other part of the country (i.e. an under-served capital region, like Atlanta), you may very well be sitting on the next Google, but you likely don’t have the infrastructure and support system around you to tell you that you are wasting your capital paying to pitch – you may think that you don’t have an alternative. And that is where education comes in play.

Uneducated entrepreneur + desperation = “Gee, I bet I can charge this clown $5K to come ‘pitch’ at my service-provider dry hump fest.”

To me, it is all about supply and demand.  How do you kill the demand, since killing the pay-to-pitch organizers is, well, illegal? We’ve found that making more well-rounded, educated, and agile entrepreneurs is the best antidote for the pay-to-pitch problem.  If I had a nickel for every entrepreneur that we’ve collectively “converted” from the dark side through stuff like StartupLounge/CapitalLounge, PitchCamp, Startup Riot, ATDC, Startup Gauntlet, mentoring, et al, I could fund half the deals in the Southeast at least through Series-D

At any rate – good read – Jason’s a firebrand – gotta love it.  Kick ass – take names – peace out.

Cheers.

Several weeks ago, Unblakeable and I spoke at the monthly gathering of the Atlanta Web Entrepreneurs group.  We provided a pretty thorough treatment of where we thought the Atlanta startup community was in terms of its maturity, and then presented a concept that we thought was pretty compelling at the time - the Atlanta Startup Cloud.  We put the call out to the community, and had a ton of people volunteer to help us build it.

We were pretty excited about the reception we received both at the event, and afterwards via email and other conversations.  Nevertheless, up to now, we haven’t had much time to get the ball rolling on some progress. Such is the joy of having day jobs

Fast forward a few weeks to now.  The ATDC announced a big revamp under the leadership of Stephen Fleming (of VentureLab fame).  As part of the revamp, the ATDC is proposing a number of new initiatives and policy changes.  Many of these initiatives either mirror or complement some of the things we were proposing as part of the Atlanta Startup Cloud concept.  As such, we don’t think it makes much sense for us to duplicate the effort.  Instead, we want to do our part to help ensure that the ATDC’s efforts are as successful as possible - and we ask that you get involved as well!

Note: I do think the first part of the Startup Cloud video is still worth watching, especially if you want some background on the Atlanta startup scene.

If you weren’t able to attend their open forum meeting, check out the video here.  It’s definitely worth the time.  Also be sure to read Stephen’s post (Why Are We Doing This?), and our most recent StartupLounge.com podcast featuring Stephen and David Sung (who manages the ATDC Seed Fund).

Mike and I both think that this new ATDC is going to have a profound impact on Georgia.  Stephen is the perfect man for the job, he has a good team in place, and we think his plan is pretty solid.  There has never been a better time to be an entrepreneur in Georgia, and we hope to see everyone at the upcoming CapitalLounge event in a few weeks!

Cheers.

A few months ago, Paul Freet (VentureLab) reached out to me and asked if StarPound would be interested in being a beta tester for a new software testing platform (Tarantula) being developed by a team of researchers at Georgia Tech.  I forwarded the message on to our CTO, Wei Wang, who followed up with the team down there.  We are incredibly busy right now, and Wei didn’t think he would have enough spare time to dedicate to the task, despite the fact that we have wanted to bolster our QA processes for some time now.  I was a little disappointed (not at Wei, but at the situation), because I believe very strongly in QA, even in an agile environment.  Then, something wonderful happened.

The Tarantula team took the initiative, downloaded our open-source platform, and started running their own tests.  They are coming in next week (I think) to share their findings and get our feedback.  Kudos to the Tarantula team for thinking out of the box, and finding a way to get their product out there in the hands of users. There is most certainly a lesson there for other entrepreneurs - never take no for an answer - be creative - adapt, improvise, and overcome.  Be a real partner!

I am excited about the meeting, and I’ll post a followup here with the results of their findings.

If you aren’t familiar with Tarantula, here is a quick rundown:

Tarantula is a technique and tool for helping developers find bugs in source code.  The tool takes source coverage information from a set of test cases and produces a color-coded visual representation of the code. The color coding identifies areas of the code which are most likely to be buggy so that the developer may focus his/her attention in suspicious areas first.

For each statement in the source code, a suspiciousness and confidence value is computed. The suspiciousness is based on the relative numbers of passing and failing test cases that execute a statement. The confidence is based on the percentage of the total passing and failing test case sets that execute a statement. In the visualization, suspiciousness is represented by hue ranging from red to green; more suspicious statements appear more red and less suspicious statements appear more green. Confidence is represented by the brightness of the color; less confident statements appear dimmer and more confident statements appear brighter.

How does it work?

The Tarantula tool requires the source code, a set of test cases and per-test coverage information. While it has an independent data format that will support other tools in the future, the current implementation requires test cases written in JUnit and the use of Clover for coverage instrumentation. To use Tarantula, one instruments the source code with Clover and then runs a set of JUnit test cases. Assuming there are failing test cases to address, the data is imported from Clover reports into Tarantula. Then, the project is opened in Tarantula and the code is reviewed using the information it provides. The import functionality is available both as a wizard and a custom Ant task.

According to their FAQ, the original version worked only with code written in C, which makes it an prospective fit for Linux/UNIX system developers, embedded systems developers, etc.  StarPound is over one million lines of J2EE (not C), so it will be interesting to see how their approach and tools fare against a different code base.  Stay tuned!

Cheers.

I can still remember the grainy television images of the smoke billowing into the sky, people screaming, sirens blaring.   The images of hundreds of body bags stacked neatly beside the rubble, juxtaposed against a noisy backdrop of frenetic movement.  It was October 23rd, 1983, just 8 short years after the end of the Vietnam War.  I was young, impressionable, and now, full of rage.  It was that day that I first contemplated military service, though it would be a couple of years later until I would be old enough to actually join.

Music and fashion weren’t the only things torn asunder in the 1980s.  We were locked into the Cold War with the Soviets.  The Soviets had missiles in Syria, capable of reaching Israel, and the Soviets/Cubans were monkeying around on the island of Grenada, not far from our own shores.  Two days after the barracks bombing in Beirut, the United States invaded Grenada.  President Reagan, who later became my first Commander-in-Chief,  delivered a powerful speech to the nation about both events a few days later. It was a crazy time.

Those of you who know me personally have a public view of me:  a tech geek, father of two little girls, wacky sense of humor, and passionate about startups and entrepreneurship.  But there is another side of me that many of you don’t know.  One that is deeply patriotic, and incredibly respectful of the traditions and sacrifices Americans have made throughout our history.

This past Saturday was Independence Day, and like so many of you, I enjoyed the fireworks with my family. Our 3 1/2 year old daughter cackled with glee at each explosion and burst of color.  But as each stream of color and smoke faded into the night, I said a small prayer for those warriors that died on the morning of October 23rd, 1983.  I said a small silent thanks to Lang, Dreier, Combites, Rivers, Cortez, Woodberry, Bamford, Starling, Strieter, Sinke, Fuller, Mitchell, Evans, Sciortino, Teal, Rey, and all the rest of the guys I served with in Delta/HHC companies, 3rd Battalion, 64th Armored Regiment, 3d Infantry Division, VII Corps.  Most of us couldn’t wait to get out of the Army, but as the years have rolled by, I think we all look back fondly on that shared experience.

Through Winter Warrior I and II, four Grafenwoehr gunnery densities, countless deployments to Hohenfels and Area Mud, REFORGER, Border Patrol, and all those 2:00am lariat advances and base lockdowns, we develop a shared history and bond that remains to this day.  To my fellow Marne Dogs of the 64th Armored Regiment, and the 3rd Infantry Division: “Rock of the Marne.  Rampage. We Pierce!”

My favorite song is, and since October 1983 has been, our national anthem.  I still choke up whenever I hear it. During a recent recording of the StartupLounge podcast, I was waiting for my cohort Mike Blake to finish munching a doughnut so we could get on with the recording (yes, I’m not kidding).  For no reason at all, I burst into singing my favorite song.  Of course, the mics were on, and the tape was rolling.  Doh!  Afterwards, I chuckled a bit, but Mike thought we should work it in the final edit of the show, as (at the time of taping that show) Memorial Day was approaching. So, we edited it in, complete with an added stadium effect.   I got a lot of emails about the song after we published the podcast, and I thought I would include an audio snippet here in this blog post.

Me attempting the National Anthem on the SL Podcast

Now with the musical portion of the post over with, I’d like to make a brief announcement.  I’ve teamed up with Jason Jones (CresaPartners), a fellow veteran (TOP-GUN!) who flew A-6 Intruder missions off the deck of the U.S.S. Enterprise, to form VetLoop.com.

VetLoop is a unique (not-for-profit) community of veterans in the Atlanta community that aims to:

• Help service members transition from active military service to the civilian workforce, especially those coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan
• Build relationships among veterans in Atlanta to help each other in business
• Educate the veterans community with an emphasis on business topics, and applying the lessons learned in the military to the business world

Once we roll it out in Atlanta, we would like to see the concept spread to other cities as well.

I found this great definition of a veteran online somewhere:

A veteran is someone who, at one  point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to “The  United  States of America” for  an amount of  “up to and including my life.”

I look forward to building out this community with Jason, and getting more involved with fellow veterans here in Atlanta.  There are a lot of us here, and it should be exciting to see what kind of impact we can make together.

Cheers.

Urvaksh over at the Atlanta Business Chronicle recently published an article providing some coverage of the new $250M fund being launched by the State of Florida.  After reading it, I became engulfed in a sea of emotions, ranging from frustration to anger, finally settling on a mix of sadness and reflection.

The short version: This new Florida Growth Fund will not only provide capital to venture capital firms (in the form of Florida being an LP - Limited Partner), it will also co-invest (follow, not lead) directly in technology and growth companies.  The fund will be managed by a private equity firm on behalf of the Florida Retirement Pension Fund.

Georgia is the last state in the Union that does not allow private equity investments out of the state’s pension funds.  “Last.”  Wow.  Now there’s a word that simply emanates innovation.  Nothing says “cutting edge” like being listed as “last”.

“Last.”  That means that North Dakota is ahead of us in terms of allowing private equity investments from state pension funds.  WTF? Pinch me.

For all the hemming and hawing we hear from the state government about how great Georgia is for innovation, we’re really doing a pretty lame job of walking the walk, and leading by example.  We can pass a bill that invites the 2009 Georgia Peach Queen to appear before the House of Representatives, and slash the budget of the ATDC, but we can’t drive through a key piece of legislation to propel the Georgia economy into the 21st century.

“Last”.   You may also recall that Georgia is also “last” (or at least close to being “last”) in another category as well - public education for our children.  It is no coincidence.  We clearly have a remarkably uneducated group of people keeping us from joining the rest of the country in diversifying the state’s investments in the private sector.  Guess that lack of education has already caught up to us.

Does our state government really take these issues seriously?  Certainly there are some - many of whom I’ve met and had great conversations with.  But as a whole, no.  There are those that are hell bent on laying down in the middle of the street and preventing progress.

The most common arguments that I hear from opponents of such legislation is that it is “too risky” and “wouldn’t provide much in the way of economic development for anyone but Altanta.”  Humor me for a moment.

The Georgia Public Policy Foundation, which is a non-profit, independent, public policy think tank, recently published a very interesting article.  In the article, they cite the “lack of diversity” within the investments of the state’s pension funds.   Every investment has risk, but obviously the only defense against market risk is diversification of investments.  “Diversify or die”, as I like to say.  Not diversifying is even riskier. They lay out a pretty compelling case across the board. Read the article - it’s short and worth it.

With respect to the whole notion that Atlanta would be the sole beneficiary of such investments - that is simply ludicrous.  What these pundits fail to realize is that this is an ecosystem, not a one-way street.  All boats rise with the rising tide.  Would those dollars necessarily create direct jobs in rural areas?  Probably not, or certainly not that many.  Companies that attract venture capital and private equity investment tend to be fast-growth and/or high-tech companies, and those require infrastructure and a large labor force.  And those things exist in abundance in Atlanta, but few other places within the state.  But, what those investment dollars would do is create an economic return for the state.  And those additional dollars eventually make their way into port projects in Savannah, highways, schools, agricultural programs, and other projects around the state. Viewing this issue through any other prism is negligent in my view.

Normally, I would tell everyone reading this to contact your local state representative or senator, and tell them why you think passing legislation to allow the state to invest in private equity funds would be a good thing.  But we’ve all done that already.  Several times (SB80, HR249, etc).  I tire of the whole thing.

The only thing that can save us now is the passing of time, and the hope that at some point, enough rational people are voted into office to get us back on the right track.

“Last”.  I hate being last, don’t you?

Cheers.

If you care at all about the Atlanta startup ecosystem, Mike Blake and I humbly request your presence next week at the monthly Atlanta Web Entrepreneurs meeting (18th at the ATDC).  Mike Schinkel and the AWE gang have graciously invited Unblakeable and I to present our views of where Atlanta is right now, where we’re going, and some ideas around how we’re gonna get there. We believe that we are at the end of phase 1 in the rebirth of Atlanta, and that we are entering a very different phase 2.

We are bringing ideas to the table, and we want to hear yours.  And more importantly, we want to recruit you to help in the effort.  The only way we’re going to get there is if we execute together.  Gee, kinda like a startup team.

Click here for full details. Schink does a great job of laying it all out there.

If you currently play a current role in the Atlanta startup scene, want to play a role in it, or give a crap about it at all, you need to be there.  We are going to try and record the session for a slidecast/podcast for those that can’t make it - but no guarantees.

If you have ideas, bring ‘em on.  But don’t forget to bring your spirit of volunteerism with you as well.  Because you are quite likely going to be put to work.  Sitting in the crowd like a knot on a log is going to add zero value.  Throwing out ideas and not stepping in to help bring them to fruition adds only marginal value.  We want those people who are ready to step up and play their part as a software developer, web developer, mentor/advisor, educator, marketer, public relations guru, etc.

Let’s get it on.

Caveat: my wife and I are expecting our 2nd daughter to arrive at any point in the next week or so.  There is a possibility that either Unblakeable will have to go it alone, or that the event gets moved to another time.  Or, that I will run screaming from the building in a panic to get to the hospital right in the middle of something important 

Cheers.