About

I should probably start by saying this isn’t some polished, well-thought-out blog. It’s more like a brain dump. A way to keep myself busy so I don’t light up another cigarette. Will it work? No idea. But here we are.

So, a bit about me. I’m an American tech entrepreneur living in Frankfurt. Work keeps me busy, travel keeps me sane, and smoking… well, that’s the thing I can’t quite shake. Been at it since I was a teenager. It’s ridiculous, I know. My wife (let’s call her Sarah) reminds me of that daily.

Writing is sort of my way of distracting myself. I’ve tried other things—chewing gum, stress balls, even golf (we’ll get to that disaster later)—but for some reason, tapping away at a keyboard seems to help.

Life, Work, and the Ever-Expanding Wine Cellar

Sarah and I spend a lot of time on the road, bouncing between conferences, meetings, and whatever else my industry throws at me. She comes along for most of it, which makes it bearable. A few years ago, I was doing it alone, and honestly? It sucked. Now, with the kids (mostly) out of the house, we get to travel together, which makes it feel less like a never-ending business trip and more like… I don’t know, life?

Speaking of the kids—we have three: Emma, Max, and Lily. All in their early 20s, all brilliant (and, let’s be honest, absurdly expensive). Emma’s studying international law in Paris, Max is deep into AI research in Zurich, and Lily is at Oxford, doing something artsy and intellectual that I pretend to understand. I’m proud of them. I also try not to think too hard about what they’re actually up to when they’re not studying. Some things are better left unknown.

We’re also working toward a dream—buying a villa in Ibiza. Not the party scene (though our kids seem to think that’s the only thing Ibiza is good for). We’re more about the quiet beaches, the long dinners, the idea of having a place where the whole family can come together without an agenda. Oh, and a motorboat. Maybe. I made the mistake of looking at listings online, and now I’m obsessed. If you’ve never gone down the rabbit hole of boat shopping, don’t. It’s a trap.

Why “Lapel Stick”?

The name? It comes from the ridiculous number of conference name badges I’ve collected over the years. At some point, I started tossing them into a drawer instead of throwing them away. Then one day, I looked and there were about 250 of them. No idea why I kept them, but I did. And now, they’re a weird little timeline of my career—some good memories, some awful ones, and a lot of boring networking events where I stood around drinking bad coffee and wishing I was somewhere else.

Frankfurt: Efficient, Organized, and Questionable Food Choices

Frankfurt is… fine. It’s clean. It’s efficient. It’s got great public transport. But the weather? Dreadful. And the food? I’ll probably offend someone here, but I’ve never warmed up to German cuisine. Bratwurst, sauerkraut, heavy sauces—I just can’t do it.

Instead, we hunt down good Italian places, Japanese spots, anything that reminds us that food should be enjoyable. The one thing Germany does get right? Wine. The Rieslings here are incredible, and I’ve developed an unexpected love for Spätburgunder (basically, German Pinot Noir). I now have a wine cellar that’s way too full and somehow keeps growing. It’s also, unfortunately, my go-to hiding spot when I sneak off for a cigarette. My family knows. They just roll their eyes.

Golf, Cars, and Other Expensive Distractions

Golf. My Achilles’ heel. I should be better at it than I am, but here we are. I’m a 10-handicapper who plays like a 20 some days and a 5 on others. It’s maddening. New clubs? Probably won’t help, but I’m convincing myself they will.

And then there’s the car. I drive a Mercedes AMG GT, which is a fancy way of saying I like fast, well-built things that make ridiculous noises. There’s nothing like flooring it on the autobahn—it’s one of the few places in life where you can actually go as fast as you want without someone yelling at you.

The Smoking Problem

Here’s the thing—I don’t actually want to quit smoking. Or, rather, I do, but I don’t. It’s a mind game, and I’m losing. I know it’s bad for me. I know it’s stupid. But I enjoy it. That’s the problem.

Golf is tough without a cigarette. Stress is worse. And honestly, some part of me still thinks of smoking as my old, reliable friend. Except now, that friend is stabbing me in the back, and I’m the idiot who keeps inviting them over.

Lapel Stick, if I’m being honest, isn’t really about quitting smoking. It’s just me rambling about life, work, family, golf, travel, and all the ways I’m trying (and failing) to be a little better. If it helps me put off lighting up for a few extra minutes, great. If not… well, at least I’m keeping my hands busy.

Let’s see where this goes.

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