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Wells-next-the-Sea is the name of an English seaside town. When I heard its name, I went down an etymology rabbit hole.

The town was filled with freshwater wells, and so it was logically called ‘Wells’. But to avoid confusion with similarly named towns, the ‘next-the-Sea’ was added in the 1800s. Ironically, the town is not on the coast, but is located in an inlet surrounded by salt marshes and is about a mile’s walk from the sea.

There’s no magic to today’s post. Wells-next-the-Sea was an endearing name that caught my attention, and it immediately made me curious to understand its history and share it with you. I also wouldn’t have thought a name alone would do this, but it’s certainly made me want to visit.

On paper, the electric fireplace does everything a real fireplace does. There’s heat, light, smoke, and even a flue.

If you’re willing to suspend your disbelief, the electric fireplace can get pretty close to the real thing.

But some of the magic is missing. The pop and crackle. The effort to get the fire started. The time spent tending to the flame. The searing heat as you open the door to put on another log.

One isn’t wrong and the other right. They’re just different.

And as with many alternatives in life. Neither choice is wrong, they’re just different.

I visited Stratford-upon-Avon last week, something I’ve been wanting to do for over a decade. I performed quite a bit of Shakespeare in highschool and have since maintained a soft spot for his plays, so visiting his birthplace was a real treat.

During the visit, I came across one of his idioms that I hadn’t heard before:
brevity is the soul of wit.

Perhaps I missed it when I was younger because I didn’t care as much about writing and communication then. But now felt like the right time to discover it.

Writing every day is a constant reminder that it’s hard to keep things short and simple whilst still having something meaningful to say.

But pursuing brevity every day is a worthwhile challenge.

It’s easy to do.

To question ourselves. To second guess. To lose confidence.

The antidote is to just start. To put something down on paper. To ask the basic question. To be curious. To be open to being wrong.

Once the first draft is out in the open, we have a base from which to work. And the overthinking enemy has lost some of its power.

One of the best things we did during my parent’s visit to London was go to ABBA Voyage.

ABBA had a relatively short 10-year career, with their final concert in 1982. However, their music remains relevant with a whole generation of young and old fans that never got to see them live, which makes them a great candidate for a digital concert.

The four band members spent 5 weeks performing the concerts in suits that tracked their body and facial movements, and all of this was used to create “ABBAtars” for the digital concert. So it’s really them performing!

The experience is impressive from so many angles. From the staying power of the band and their music, to the technology, the investment, the infrastructure, and the vision to pull off a concert of this type and scale.

Despite all of that, the best part was seeing my mum sing and dance to the songs of her childhood.

Derek Sivers wrote in a recent post, “Personal non-commercial websites are an antidote to the spammy corporate web.”

I couldn’t agree more. Personal blogs are filled with flavour, perspective, opinions, and a rough-around-the-edges vibe. They’re handmade with all the blemishes on display.

And that’s what makes them great.

A little reminder to self: the rest day is just as important as the active day.

Even though I try and have more active days than rest days, getting the ratio between them right is essential. It’s not a hard rule either, and I’m learning to adjust the ratio based on how I’m feeling.

As we’re coming into summer, I’ve been buying sunscreen for the months ahead. Call it hitting my thirties or something else altogether, but I’ve become diligent during the past year at putting on SPF most days.

I recently learned about a 2023 UK parliamentary debate regarding Value Added Tax on sunscreen. It’s currently at 20%, like most products, but due to soaring rates of skin cancer, there has been a push to have VAT removed. Such a move would make sunscreen significantly cheaper and position it as an item of necessity; similar to how healthy foods at supermarkets are “zero rated” and don’t have VAT added.

Unfortunately, little progress has been made, and the current government has no plans to remove VAT on sunscreen. But it did get me thinking about how I’d welcome the presence / absence of VAT to be used more liberally by governments to incentivise consumers to make healthier choices.

It’s a subtle intervention that can be both carrot and stick.

I remember going to a restaurant with a confusing menu. There was a Mexican section, an Italian section, an American section, and an International section. In an effort to please everyone, the range of dishes looked bland and unappealing.

On the flip side, I love products and services that have an opinion. It doesn’t matter if I like the opinion. What matters is they had one, that they were thoughtful about it, and that they took a big swing.

At a minimum, have an opinion.

I’ve recently started using Komoot for finding running and hiking trails.

The best part about the app is how quickly you can search, sort, and filter for a run or hike that fits your exact needs.

It’s effortless and reliable. And it reminded me, that’s much of the value in software products: being easy and reliable.

I typically don’t need more features, I just need the core features to deliver every time.

I was walking through the Blenheim Palace gardens earlier today; down a meandering path alongside The Great Lake.

When I looked to the sky, I saw a swarm of mayflies. Even from afar, I could identify them by their long tails—perhaps also because I spent days with them on the Mississippi River.

An adult mayfly lives for about 1-2 days. In that time they mate, the female lays eggs, and then they die. Their short adult lives have been written about for millennia, even as early as Aristotle.

Whenever I see a mayfly, or a swarm of them, I’m reminded how today is their day in the sun. I then watch in silence and in awe.

To surf a wave, you need both the swell and wind to be in your favour.

The swell needs to be big enough to create the wave, and the wind needs to be blowing offshore to hold the wave up long enough for you to surface along its clean face.

Surfers don’t settle for one, because a good day on the water requires both.

There’s a lesson in here for how we approach other projects, challenges, and opportunities.

I was walking along the South Bank of the River Thames today close to Tower Bridge. Little did I know that earlier in the day a couple of Red Bull athletes had dropped from a helicopter at 3,000 ft, descended in wing suits down to Tower Bridge, and flown through the gap in the middle of the bridge.

The 2-minute video is stunning. Despite making it look easy, the two skydivers had completed over 200 practice jumps in preparation.

Red Bull continually pushes the limits of what is humanly possible, and looking at Tower Bridge today, I would’ve never thought it possible to fly a wing suit through it. Kudos to Red Bull.

Marc Andressen talks about how the job of a start-up founder is to remove layers of risk; similar to the layers on an onion. As each layer is removed, the existential risk to the business is reduced.

I also think this idea is applicable to any team working on a new project. In the beginning, there are high amounts of ambiguity, where setbacks are the norm and failure is common.

It’s tempting to add new features, processes, or systems, but instead of adding, sometimes the most valuable thing we can do is identify risks, and focus obsessively on removing them.

It sounds trivial, but ask the following question at a dinner and you’ll get a highly engaged crowd.

Of the five base carbs, pasta, rice, bread, noodles, and potatoes, each person at the table needs to place them in their order of preference.

People inevitably end up talking about where they grew up and the foods they ate when they were young. They talk about familiarity, nostalgia, culture, and habit.

Everyone has an opinion on carbs, and it’s funny how few have thought about which are their favourites.

What’s yours?