After a show 4 hours from home with my band the other night, I slept at our drummer’s house who lived much closer to the vicinity of where the festival was.

I woke up quietly the next morning, careful to not bother anyone else. After quickly eradicating the sleep from my brain I flipped open my laptop to take care of a couple of things before they slipped my mind. A few minutes later the front door opened and our drummer walked in from the porch.

We exchanged good mornings and he asked if I wanted some coffee.

As I followed him to the kitchen he apologized for not having any cream while at the same time grabbing a gallon of milk from the refrigerator and slinging it in my general direction. I told him that it was fine as I poured coffee into the oversized mug that he’d slid in front of me on the counter.

I muckled onto the nearly full jug of milk and quickly realized that my body still held a little resistance to my mind telling it to wake up. I took my time and carefully added a couple of splashes of what I’m guessing was a low-fat version of the white stuff. The shade of my coffee barely changed, but I wasn’t about to be too picky. I appreciated the caffeine.

Good coffee is by far one of my favorite things. I’ve come to understand however, that good company makes even mediocre coffee better and can magically turn the worst coffee into something rather enjoyable.

The coffee was dark. The oversized spoon that I used for sugar had me toss in a terrible estimate of the amount that I normally take and the lack of cream didn’t add any richness to my morning beverage.

We headed straight outside and sat on the front porch. His company and our conversation made the coffee just perfect.

Where you least expect it

The best cup of coffee that I’ve ever had was at a pizza shop years ago. I’m fairly certain it was a last-minute family get-together or something of the sort.

Among what was left of the pizza and calzones on the pulled-together tables were a few different half-full bottles of soda that I just wasn’t feeling.

I asked for a cup of coffee…at a pizza shop. I expected exactly what you’re imagining. Bland, tasteless, and bad. Still, it’s what I was in the mood for.

4 creamers and 4 sugar packets in a typical restaurant-style coffee mug. If you’ve been doing it any differently, you should take my advice and give it a try. I put half of that amount of sugar in when I’m at home, but when I’m out and about and in control of what’s going in what I’m about to put down, 4 and 4 it is.

It was sensational. I have no idea how or why. I’d done nothing different than I normally do when served up java at any public eatery.

I took my time and savored every sip.

I’ve never been able to repeat that particular cup of coffee. I went back to look for the pizza place years later to find that it was no longer there. Gone, too, was any chance at another cup of whatever magic beans they were serving up that was better than any pie I have a hard time remembering from them.

Not quite room service

I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve spent in hotels. I’ll share this piece of coffee advice, though-

The coffee in the room? Brew it so that it fills the room with a fragrant aroma, but for the love of all that is coffee, don’t drink it. It’s going to be terrible and you’re starting your day off with a taste in your mouth that’s much worse than the stranger that you may have spent the night with who tucked out before the rest of the hotel woke up.

Brew it, get in the shower, and go to the lobby for coffee that you can actually drink.

You’ll thank me later.

Instantly coffee

Growing up in Vermont I’ve spent more than my share of time at hunting camp.

I’d arrive on a cold November evening before everyone else. Getting a fire started in the wood stove was the first order of business. A simultaneous second was to boil water in a small saucepan on the gas stove and pour it into a cup where I’d already added a heaping teaspoon full of instant coffee grounds.

A box of sugar cubes and some non-dairy powdered creamer had both been stored tightly in sealed containers since my previous stay months before. Two cubes and a spoonful of the creamer rounded out the hot drink that still brings me back to my earliest memories with family and friends at the start of deer season each year.

I’d sip it and reminisce in my mind while pulling up a chair next to the sound of the crackling fire while camp warmed up.

Whenever I’d visit my Mom, she’d offer me coffee. Almost always instant and almost always with skim milk. I’m not sure what skim milk adds to coffee if anything, but I can most definitely attest to the pleasure of drinking that same coffee at the table while catching up with her.

Straight up

I’m not a fan of black coffee. Just the thought of it reminds me of a sweet and bitter combination completely lacking in rich flavor. I’ve tried numerous times, but I just can’t seem to choose it as a regular option.

Although, if I’m sitting with a friend anywhere and black coffee is the only offering, it’s the best black coffee that I’ve ever had.

My favorite option

Whatever is missing from my normal coffee when I’m with someone that I enjoy being with can easily be replaced.

No cream? Tell me how you’ve been.

No sugar? Share something that makes me laugh.

Caffeine free? Spend a few silent moments together with me to remind me how much better life is with you in it.

As it turns out, it’s never about the coffee.

The post Coffee appeared first on Sean McCarthy.

I like pizza.

It’s the perfect choice for when you can’t come up with anything else to eat that sounds good at the moment. If delivery is an option, it’s great for when you want someone to bring your food to you. The funny thing about a pizza with your favorite toppings is that the price is different wherever you get it.

Weird, huh?

Dough is dough. Unless of course, it’s gluten-free. In that case, the ingredients might tick the cost up a bit. Otherwise, the necessary items to craft the perfect pie are all of the same general nature.

Why then, can I order a pizza from one mom-and-pop shop for much less than another in the same town? Why are the prices for a pizza from some wood-fired establishments sometimes twice that of another?

Every pizza is different. People’s reasons for liking their pizza of choice can be anything from the texture of the crust, the shape of the meat or veggies, or how one place cuts the same 14-inch pie into more slices than the place down the road.

The fact is, people pay what they pay for the pizza they like because of what it costs.

Read that again, I’ll wait.

Obviously, large pizza chains can toss out five-dollar pizza deals that a local shop can’t compete with. Because of that, they don’t even try to. They do what they do, they do it well, and they charge what they charge.

They also still sell plenty of pizza.

Everyone’s cost of doing business is what it is. I’m not even going to go into what I found when taking a few minutes to research how much it costs to make a pizza or the potential profit margins. It’s literally all over the place. There’s no single number for any of it.

There’s no rhyme and only a small amount of reason.

How does this relate to you and your business? I’m getting to it.

I’ve never met a successful owner of a pizza place that wasn’t confident that their pizza was top-notch. Years ago when they were trying out different variations and having their family and friends taste-testing them all, they arrived at what they felt was perfect.

Did they do a little area research to see what other pizza shops were offering? Most likely, yes.

Aside from putting a round pie cut into triangles into a square box the way almost everyone else did, theirs was unique. Some squares have success, but let’s face it, there’s a generally accepted pizza shape around the world.

What was the next step after crafting the perfect one-stop, table-top, goes-great-with-soda-pop supper?

Determining how much to charge.

The price of a pie isn’t determined by how much the competition charges. It’s determined by the costs associated and how confident the owner is in what they’re offering.

That’s it.

Pizza is never the same from one place as it is from another. There’s a uniqueness to it, just as there is to what you have to offer to your clients and customers.

What you determine to be the cost of your goods or services depends on a number of factors. Only you know your cost of doing business. The question is, beyond that, how confident are you in what you’re offering?

If you know that you have a great product or service and can deliver, that’s the next factor in setting your rate.

You might be surprised at what the final piece of the pricing puzzle is.

It’s not what everyone else is charging. It’s not what the average is.

It’s what people are willing to pay for it.

The most expensive pizza in the world costs $12,000.

Twelve-thousand-dollars.

For a pizza.

Yes, of course, it includes delivery so you won’t feel ripped off when you realized that it’s only 8 inches in diameter.

I’m going to say it again.

The amount that you charge for what you offer is what people are willing to pay for it.

Everyone isn’t going to be your customer. Some will sneer, snarl, and sneak right by to a cheaper option. Is where they’re going a better option? Who cares?

People who like your product or service will pay what you charge for it.

Concern yourself with those who see the value in what you bring to the dinner table and kindly move on from those who want the five-dollar pizza.

The post The $12,000 Pizza: How It Relates to Your Business appeared first on Sean McCarthy.

I recently saw a Twitter post by Wolfgang Van Halen where he retweeted someone’s post about it being in bad taste to use his famous father’s last name to make a name for himself.

His reply was perfect.

Van Halen is literally my fucking name you grape.

I’ve seen comments about how so and so would never be where they are if it weren’t for the work that their mother or father put in, or because of their bloodline, or for some other bullshit reason.

Newsflash, I wouldn’t have a house if it weren’t for my bank.

Okay, I guess I could have been smarter with my money from the paper route that I blew my earnings on candy bars and soda or my full-time jobs doing whatever where I pissed my money away on whatever I pissed it away on.

I could have saved and scrimped until I was able to pay cash.

But…there are banks.

As a business model, a bank’s sole purpose is to be in the business of making money off of other people’s money. They take your money and pay you a piece of a penny for it. They loan me your money, along with a few other people’s money, and charge me a few pennies for it.

Business model.

Let me back up. If I don’t own a house, I have to live somewhere. Whether it’s a landlord or sleeping on my buddy’s sofa and kicking in a little for rent, I couldn’t live somewhere without their help.

We do nothing substantial on our own. The fact is, we need someone, or something, for all of our successes.

If you live in the middle of nowhere and hunt or gather your food, you probably wanna thank the animal that gave its life for your last steak dinner or the sunshine and proper fertilizer method for those berries that made up your fruity jam.

Did caveman Bob get pissed off at caveman Billy however many years ago because Billy was on the sunny side of the island and had more food opportunities? You bet he fucking did.

Over more than one tree bark supper, he said to cave woman Wilma that that son of a bitch Billy wouldn’t be eating that woolly mammoth short rib if he had all of their trees hindering the giant’s food source.

We’re all victims of our environment. People help us, things help us.

The amount of preaching from people today to buy and use their method of success to be successful is incredible. That’s a handout. Sure, for a small fee, but someone helped. They did all the work so that you’d only have to invest a small amount of yourself to flourish.

How about a third-generation small business in a community?

Same thing.

If grandpa hadn’t planted roots, Junior Jr. wouldn’t have been able to continue that business.

Maybe a neighbor of grandpa lent him some cash or let him borrow something for a month or two to get started. Who cares?

Truth is, it’s pointed out more prominently the more successful someone is. It, being the person or thing that made them who they were able to be today.

I’ve never read the entire bible as I’m not all that religious. But I don’t recall hearing anyone at any church service ever say that Jesus wouldn’t be who he was today without God.

Sing it, Wolfgang, fuck the haters.

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