When the word about our work gets out, your competitors will be tracking our every move like they're the FBI entrapping our Tony Soprano. But don't feel guilty, we're fine; we know all the hideouts. We've used them before.
It's a risk to start writing a new chapter.
And we know if your business wasn't on the line in some way, there would be nothing we could dramatically improve. We appreciate the chance to help, and not a second goes by when we aren't grateful you gave us the opportunity to turn up for your customers. We're loyal to you because it's you, the sun, that reflects light off our moon.
Julia Child published cookbooks before she popularized the concept of cooking on television. Julia Child had to create a worldwide TV phenomenon to teach her viewers how to appreciate French Cuisine, so they'd know they needed her cookbooks.
Our episodes of The French Chef are created every time we interface with a client. Part of our process is teaching you the difference between Spam® and Paté— technology-wise. We're confident once you've experienced the luxury of working with our team, you won't want to dine anywhere else.
Our favorite part of our work is making working with us fun. Let's get this out of the way now: yes, you will smile and laugh. The results, though, won't be anything to sneeze at, smile or laugh about. About our results, our clients beam.
Sitting at a bar, Picasso was approached by a man who said, "Picasso, on this bar napkin, with this borrowed pen, could you draw for my wife?". Picasso obliged, no more than a quick doodle. "That'll be $20,000," Picasso said. Incredulously, the man stuttered: "for 10 seconds?! You can't be serious!". "I am," Picasso demurred, "because twenty thousand for 50 years of learning to draw like that is the kindest price in this barroom."
The good times signaled that we were ready for what would be next. The reading, the classes, the cramming, and exams. They were through, and we would go through to the next stage of our discovery. With my friends, together at the end of each semester, I did the most learning.
Another question about my nonexistent resume. Fun! So I'd flash a smile and cough up a laugh, "uh, I'm still not sure what I wanna do."
Like Jiro's dreams of sushi, my dreams of doing something worth inking on a resume drew me towards Frost's one less travelled by. So I named my company after the sound that follows a breakthrough, and moved from my Durham, NC dorm-room to my mom's garage.
It's a little weird to name a company this way, but the way we would come to do business turned out a little weird, too.
It's a little weird that we want you to profit from our work. It's a little weird that we try to empathize with how your customers will feel. And it's a little weird that we obsess over inconsequential white space in source code no client has yet ever wanted to see.
Here's to the first 5 years of our little weird company. May she still be the cause of smiles and laughs 5 short years from today.