The Science of Missed Opportunities: E = mc Scared?

If you’ve ever found yourself staring at the job boards on Linkedin, glazed over, possibly drooling, while noting the apparent lack of opportunities that have been geared, in any way, towards YOU, it’s natural to find yourself recounting the seemingly golden opportunities that, once upon a time, you held within your grasp, yet let slip away, whether because you were otherwise engaged, distracted, or thoroughly drenched with fear.

Earlier today, as I was squinting at a job posting and wondering whether I might make a commendable monk, I suddenly recalled one of the very first career opportunities that ever had the courage to wave at me from across the room.  It happened shortly after I graduated from college, on the 4th day of what was intended to be a celebratory, three-and-a-half week backpacking trip thru Europe, which I could, in no way, actually afford.  After settling in at the Three Ducks hostel in Paris and taking -- and here’s one reason not to go there -- an outdoor shower, I called home to assure my parents that I hadn’t yet been robbed, and still retained the vast majority of my major organs.  My mother interrupted, excitedly telling me that ‘Chris from Miramax’ had called hours earlier.

Chris from Miramax -- a friend of one of my mother’s coworker’s sons -- was perhaps my best contact.  Just weeks earlier, he’d shot me down when I’d called asking if Miramax was hiring.  But now they needed a production assistant, since one of theirs had quit, or possibly been chased out by Harvey Weinstein.  My mother didn’t know which. I called Chris, who told me they couldn’t guarantee me the job -- I’d need to come back to New York to interview -- but the odds weren’t bad since they really needed someone.

I was incredibly torn.  I had spent so much money on the trip.  What if I flew home and didn’t get the position?  And when else would I ever have the chance to see Europe and its various Europeans?  At the time, I was just 22, so my brain wasn’t yet fully formed, according to the people who watch news programs which quote articles that refer to scientific studies.

In hindsight, being willing to fly home for an interview might have shown enough interest and ambition to nab the position.   Still, I convinced myself that if Miramax wanted me so quickly after graduation, it would be easy to secure another job once home.

So, in the end, I chose the trip, enjoyed it thoroughly, and proceeded to remain unemployed for the next six months, having willfully missed my chance to work with and likely be screamed at by Harvey Weinstein; an experience which would no doubt have toughened me up, or perhaps broken me completely.

It’s a missed opportunity I think about at times.  And that’s GOOD, according to entrepreneur Aaron Schwartz, who told Forbes last year that brooding about a missed opportunity is THE key to not making similar blunders going forward.

So, at least I had learned my lesson, and would NEVER pass up another opportunity.  Right, Aaron?  WRONG.

In fact, another such chance presented itself to me about 18 months later, this time, shockingly, as a result of me just being myself.  I’ll call it ‘The Case of the Erroneous Email.’  There I was, in my brand-new capacity as a production assistant, assisting a production, when an inter-company email blooped into my inbox, asking me whether or not I wanted our sister-studio to purchase a film starring Haley Joel Osment as a 12-year-old Jewish boy who was hiding amongst a family of Catholic farmers in WWII-era Germany.

Now, I could have sent a curt reply, apologizing for not being the email’s intended recipient… but instead, I wrote “Dear (person whose name I won’t now mention), your e-mail about the possibly to be released film, EDGES OF THE LORD, is very interesting.  But it begs the question: “Who are you?”  Not that I don’t appreciate getting e-mails about possibly to be released films, I just thought you might want to introduce yourself.  Sincerely, Jason Kornblatt.  P.S. If I already know you, please don’t be mad. Especially if we’re married. I’ve just been under a lot of stress.”

It turns out the email had been sent by a studio executive, who apologized, explaining that it had been intended for David Kornblum, the person in charge of global theatrical sales at the company I worked for. The exec ended her apology with, “So what do you think – should we buy it at those prices?”

I could have made a joke in reply and moved on.  Instead, I googled, and spent a few minutes rubbing my chin.  I replied, “I would never presume to give you advice about whether to buy or not to buy – not even shoes.  But since you asked, I don’t know if I’d put my money on (this) so soon after LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL.  Not that Willem Defoe won’t be great as the priest, but he’s no Roberto Begnini.  And, with PAY IT FORWARD coming out, is this going to be Osment overkill?  Well, I’m sure if anybody could do this material justice, it’s the guy who directed THREE OF HEARTS.  If you’d like someone to broker the deal, I am, of course, at your disposal.”  I ended the email “P.S. Let’s do lunch!”

And here's where the opportunity comes in.  My response intrigued the exec.  ‘Who is this NON-David Kornblum,’ she must have thought.  She wrote back “I totally agree,” expressing interest in my background and in what I did for the company.  Regarding lunch, she wrote “call my office and my assistant will set something up.”

This executive was in L.A., while I was in NY; making lunch likely more than the usual hour-long ordeal.

Still, had I then been a braver, hungrier or less poor Jason Kornblatt, I may have boarded a plane.  Would I have gotten a job?  Or just a very expensive sandwich, once airfare and lodging were factored in?  Who’s to say?

But if I’d thought of William Shatner and boldly logged onto Priceline, maybe this article would instead have been titled: “How I Became a Famous Acquisitions Executive (As Dictated to My Secretary).”   At the very least, I could have cultivated contacts in the worlds of sales and development.

Why did I decline?  For many reasons. Responsibilities. Lack of funds.  And what if it actually led to something?  What business did I have going to L.A.?  My entire family lived in New York.  I’d never even been there.  So, fear in its many forms, essentially.  But regardless of my reasons, I declined.

Knowing now what I didn’t know then, I understand that the experience would likely have been good for me, teaching me that seemingly impossible things weren’t quite so impossible.  (Perhaps THAT, entrepreneur Aaron Schwartz, would have been THE key to avoiding future blunders).

The moral here is that chances come and, if we don’t take them, chances go away… often quickly, and never to return, except in our memories.  Exactly, in my experience, like hair.

They say you miss 100% of the shots you never take, which, percentage-wise, has to be at least close to true.

Were there chances I DID take?  Of course!  But those aren’t the ones you remember when times are tough.  The ones you’ll remember are the “what if”s.

Yet, successfully catching every opportunity isn’t the goal either.  Not every opportunity is a winner, after all, and there’s much to be said for caution and timing.   For instance, In 2006, Microsoft leapt on the chance to create the Zune; reportedly under the misapprehension that people were over their trendy iPods, and were growing desperate to buy something that, while perhaps just as expensive, sounded much, much sillier.

Had Microsoft approached the iPod with more of a ‘poke-it-with-a-stick-to-make-sure-it’s-dead’ approach, before trying to get people to Zune in, they might have avoided the optics of offering Apple fans something that was perceived to be digital fruitcake.

Still, Microsoft had taken a gutsy gamble, as it has many times.  And failing when you’ve taken a chance likely has a different psychological impact than failing to take a chance at all.  And who knows? Perhaps the lessons learned from its lamentable Zune experience helped Microsoft make the choice to be an early investor in A.I. products, a decision which is having the sort of global impact that Microsoft had failed to generate via the Zune.

Experience does sometimes bring wisdom (ok, Aaron?), and I hope the experiences I’ve mentioned here remind you of your own wisdom and some of the ways in which it’s grown.  I, myself, in fact, am somewhat wiser now, and if any of you were to send me an erroneous email, and then be subsequently wowed by my response, I just might fly out to meet you post-haste; no invitation required.