Archives For Zingerman’s

(Or, Why I Put My Money In Self-Help Credit Union, Part II)

 1.

When Michelle Holland started her little bus company in 2009, she would rouse her son at four each morning. He was ten and his single mom had no option but to grab his pillow and plop him in a rear seat of her refurbished yellow school bus while running routes through Charlotte’s neighborhoods. He would grab his last winks of sleep while she collected students from their homes for delivery to a local charter school. For the privilege of avoiding the hassles of car pools, the parents would pay Michelle a small fee each month. She would drop them off before extending her trip a few extra miles to get her own son to his school.

Such was start-up life for Michelle and her Eagle Bus Service. It was tough, but it supplemented the income from her bookkeeping practice. And after several years spent juggling the demands of an all-consuming corporate life with the demands of being a young, single mother, it let her be near her son more often.

Now word was spreading to other charter schools that Michelle could solve their transportation woes. The state gave them funding to educate kids in their own unique ways, but it didn’t give access to the county-run fleets of buses. Principals saw what Michelle was doing for her first client, and they wanted her to expand; to help them, too. They were offering guaranteed payments and year-long contracts if only Michelle could scale-up her service. If only she could get more buses and more drivers.

Michelle's Bus Fleet (Credit: Michelle Holland)

Michelle’s Bus Fleet (Credit: Michelle Holland)

This is the story I’m getting first hand from Michelle in a phone conversation one afternoon last fall. We had been trying to connect for weeks, but Michelle isn’t exactly swimming in spare time. Her morning schedule remains largely the same as it was in 2009 – up well before dawn, preparing to get students safely to school – and her days are spent balancing the desk work of Eagle Bus with the needs of her few remaining bookkeeping clients. In the meantime she was searching desperately for another bus to add to her growing fleet. She usually bought them in North Carolina, but someone was grabbing all the state surplus vehicles before she could get to them. Michelle had just driven to rural Virginia to find one that met her standards. We were speaking because I was interested in how she got the money for that purchase. Continue Reading…

My September books brought so many amazing learning experiences, not to mention the discussions they generated with family, friends, colleagues and even one of the authors.

Financing Our Foodshed by Carol Peppe Hewitt

Let’s start with the winner of the prestigious Most Dog-Eared Book of the Month Award. Thank you Carol Peppe Hewitt for writing Financing Our Foodshed: Growing Local Food with Slow Money, a collection of 22 stories on North Carolina food entrepreneurs (farmers, bakers, restaurateurs and the like) to whom Slow Money NC has introduced local financiers eager to fund sustainable local eating ventures.

IMG_20130929_124805Mainstream investing has become overwhelmed by the opportunity cost heuristic, guided by the simplistic question, where can I make the most money as quickly as possible with the least risk? 

This is not entirely bad, and I’m not quick to cast moralistic aspersions on using capitalism in pursuit of profits. There’s a place for that, and there always will be. But it brings to mind the notion of hypertrophy, this glitch in evolution’s system by which nature allows (for example) a male ibix to grow horns so large, its neck cannot support the weight. Yet those large horns have become a proxy for virility, and the females are programmed to mate with him whose horns spread widest. And so this glitch propagates through the generations with the genes of big-horned ibix begetting even bigger-horned ibix until an entire species is handicapped with antlers with all appeal but no function. I can imagine the big cat mountain predator eager for this easy prey. Given enough generations of reproducing those big horns, the hypertrophy glitch will bring doom to that gene pool.

It’s not that big horns are bad, but there is such a thing as too big.

So it is with capitalism and opportunity cost. It’s not that it’s bad, but there can be too much.

In chasing the biggest-dollar, fastest-bang, lowest-risk return, we put all our resources into high-scale enterprise that promises crazy riches while we starve our local entrepreneurs of the capital they need to get off the ground or grow. Herein lies a hypertrophy risk in our investing system. We chase the promise of the next Facebook (that big-horned ibix) while ignoring the small-scale businesses that create happier, healthier, more sustainable local economies.

The weight of that imbalance threatens to topple us. Continue Reading…

Apparently my fascination with all things Zingerman’s knows no bounds as I explore this Enough Project. I’ve trolled a brilliant little video (by Daniel Seguin) featuring Zingerman’s co-founder, Paul Saginaw, that promotes a concept called “Localism.”

“There’s this idea of having enough” Paul narrates over beautiful pictures of the Zingerman’s businesses. “So when you believe that, when you’re not wanting more and more all the time, what’s driving you is wanting to create something of excellence. It’s liberating.

“What is this? Is it capitalism? Is it socialism? What do we have here? I don’t know if it’s capitalism. I know it’s not socialism. I don’t know what it is and it isn’t. But anybody can do it. It’s just a lot of work. But I would say try it. It’s also fun.”

(The video is here.)

(h/t to Ron Maurer for this link via Twitter)

IMG_20130911_091302

My brief trip to Ann Arbor last April introduced me to a real-life application of conscious capitalism. Zingerman’s Community of Businesses is a thriving enterprise that does good business while doing a lot of business good. Rather than extracting all the profits from their companies, the owners put back much more than they take out. It’s a model that deserves some deep contemplation, and it’s the example I turn to as I seek a new investing construct for myself. Allow me to introduce what I’m calling the Enough Project, a gonzo investing and writing experiment to see what kind of impact I can have by investing small amounts in good businesses committed to doing good.   

Eating in Ann Arbor

It’s raining hard this April morning as our rental car speeds west down the short stretch of interstate 94 connecting the Detroit airport to Ann Arbor. The windshield wipers set quick cadence, a rhythmic background for the good-humored argument entangling my two colleagues and me. My boss, Josh, sits in the back scrolling through his iPhone, barking out various Yelp recommendations for good eating options in Ann Arbor. Daniel is in the front seat, and I’m behind the wheel. We’ve already shrugged off Josh’s first suggestion – that we let some group of restaurants called Zingerman’s monopolize all of our meals – and now he’s tossing out alternatives.

Josh is our company’s resident foodie, and so we usually defer to his better judgement when it comes to dining on the road. Plus his wife earned a masters at the University of Michigan, so he can call on first hand experience when it comes to the local restaurant scene.

Yet we challenge his every recommendation – we’re feeling argumentative – and so we’re now resorting to the advice of anonymous Yelpers.

As Josh relays their suggestions, we sense his heart isn’t into any of the substitutes.

Okay, we finally relent. Your original idea sounds fine.

“Great!” Josh responds, his demeanor changing instantly.He dials a number and within seconds we have a dinner reservation that evening for some place called Zingerman’s Roadhouse.

Second Thoughts on Investing

I’ve been mulling over a change to my investment approach for nearly a year now, seeking to reconcile my desire for high returns with a growing sensibility to do something constructive and socially beneficial with my money. Continue Reading…