So, You Think You Know Something
Your hair turns gray, you have started some businesses over the years, and you feel you kind of know something. You know how to handle money; you know how to manage people; you even know how to sell an idea to a bank or a group of investors who will fund your next project, even a restaurant. You have done it before, so it shouldn’t be that difficult.
Think again! Every project is different, and whatever experience the previous ten may have taught you, they never teach you enough to really overcome all the potential obstacles you haven’t even realized are just around the corner. No matter how many mistakes you have made in the past, and no matter how much you have convinced yourself that you will never repeat them, you are bound to fall short of your own modest expectations.
Why? Because the future is not based on the past, and the present is a fleeting mirage that eludes the best of us. We have to make up things as we go along, improvising like never before. This is not to say that your past experiences are useless or should be forgotten; only to say that in the business world, the variables are so complex and varied that no road-map will ever chart a clear path to success.
No matter how many restaurants I have opened before, and no matter how many partners I have had in the past, the current experience—Il Postino in downtown Colorado Springs—is adding challenges to my little bag of tricks I never imagined I would need to use again. It couldn’t be more difficult than dealing with New York bureaucrats, could it?
Was I unprepared? On some level we are never fully prepared. All you can do as a businessperson is to be mentally agile to adapt to any new circumstance. Your business plans are a great starting point, but may never be executed as planned, if at all. I remember opening the third-largest brewery in the Colorado in 1997 (Palmer Lake Brewing Co.) out of 94 only to realize that I was selling more art than beer within a year and that my gallery would become an event center.
Did I not realize that renovating an existing space in the original 1879 Post Office may open a can of city-codes warms? Of course I did, but I was too arrogant to figure out that each historic property is so unique that it requires a whole new set of plans. I went into this project with a certain level of confidence that eroded quickly. Now I finally know what I should have known six months ago. We signed a five-year lease on a Brooklyn address that didn’t exist in the city tax-revenue role and therefore couldn’t be assigned building permits. Kafka comes to mind… Unlike K., we were lucky to find a 1924 document in the archives designating this spot as a tavern. What are the odds that an old warehouse was originally the kind of business we were planning to open?
Did I fully appreciate how much extra money and time would be required? Even in your worst dreams you don’t want to believe that a problem will require twice the budgeted expense because it hides behind it another, even deeper problem (rebuilding the floors that were damaged by a leaking walk-in cooler that was removed because it was dysfunctional). Instead of hidden gold I found coal in the basement. Instead of a beautiful façade I found broken windows. But I was better prepared than when I renovated an old warehouse in Brooklyn that had no gas-line to the building; here we need extra pressure from the city, a relative easy fix.
Were the architects and engineers and contractors fully aware of what they were undertaking in this project? Their best efforts were bound to fall short of what was really expected of them. They couldn’t imagine, for example, that behind a false wall was a hole in a three-foot brick wall leading to nowhere (another wall of an adjacent building) . Who took a short-cut fifty years ago and kept it a secret? Should we uncover past mistakes and correct them? Of course we should, and the building will be safer for all. Back to the architect for detail drawings, back to the RBD planner, back to the contractor, back to the inspector, and finally back to the sub-contractor who can finish this part.
I know it’s more fun to talk about the menu and the wine list, the cool light fixtures and the ambience. But what about the hours and days and weeks of hard work by the Regional Building Department and the architects and the contractors? Their contribution is usually invisible when the focus is on the great-looking plate of delicious food and the fun you are having with your friends. But without the cooperation of the Fire Chief and the City Manager and the planners and inspectors, the original tin-ceiling that survived 130 years would be gone. What stories can it tell, sitting pretty 16-feet above the ground? Were there bandits who held up the place and stole gold from the safe? Were love letters opened right then and there with tears in the recipient eyes? Were fortunes made and lost right on that spot?
You don’t have to be a history buff to appreciate preservation; you don’t need to be a philanthropist to enjoy the beauty of the past; all you need is the attitude of a citizen who thinks about the city core and the symbolic importance it gives to our daily life: we are living in the healthiest city in the country, after all! And by healthy I don’t mean only physically healthy, but also mentally and emotionally. What ensures all of this? Financial health! So, whether you are a Republican or Democrat, try and keep yourself and your city financially healthy by contributing to a budget that supports the renovation of historical buildings and keeps us all healthy!
Raphael Sassower is professor of philosophy at UCCS and an avid consumer of healthy food and liquor (yes, it’s healthy, too, in moderation) in historic buildings.
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