I’ve told versions of this story before, but I was reminded of it again today.

When I was in grad school studying both architecture and real estate, I used to walk back and forth across campus and jump between two very different kinds of academic experiences. On the one side of campus, it was taboo to talk about money. And on the other end, the only important thing to talk about was money. (I am exaggerating in both cases, but I think only slightly.)

Given that I was studying and genuinely interested in both, this always felt like a weird false dichotomy. I mean, why not care about, you know, multiple things? But that’s generally not the way it was. Talking about money tainted the purity of design. And talking about things like design and beauty felt out of place and less serious in a room where cap rates were being debated and serious financial models were being honed.

This is not to say that nobody was thinking across disciplines. I was in a joint program, after all. I can also remember attending a lunch & learn where a student asked a seasoned real estate executive what he should study in addition to finance. The response he got was something along the lines of, “the furthest thing from finance. Study something that will give you a different perspective on real estate.”

I remember this really resonating with me — probably because I was searching for breadcrumbs to make me feel like less of an outsider at Wharton. Still, this came across as a unique perspective at the time.

Knowing how money stuff works is absolutely fundamental. (We need to teach more of it in schools to young people.) And as a developer, it all starts with managing risk, executing (i.e. doing what we said we would do), and being an honest steward of other people’s money. Don’t do this, and you likely won’t be a developer for very long.

But then, what else? What unique insights can we bring to the assumptions that feed a finely honed model? Fast forward to today and this is now the basis for how the Globizen team aims to look at real estate opportunities. We want to cover all ends of campus. And that means we are more than okay talking about unserious things like design and beauty.

I've never been to Nashville, but I hear it's a pretty good city for music. According to this new report from PennPraxis, titled the Nashville Independent Venues Study, the city has 252 venues that showcase live music. And more than 100 of them are solely dedicated to music.

This gives Nashville one of the densest clusters of live music venues per capita, anywhere in the world. I also remember reading somewhere that the majority of venture funded startups in the city are in the music industry. So Nashville has a real music ecosystem going.

Of course, when you're really good at something it can create a dual-edged sword. In the case of Nashville, this success has led to growth, more bachelor/bachelorette parties being hosted in the city and, ultimately, developers wanting to build lots of new things.

Right now, the city seems to be grappling with how best to balance this growth against the preservation of its live music scene. And that's what this new report is focused on.

Sam Zell, the billionaire real estate investor, died this week at the age of 81. That seems young to me. Or maybe I’m just being overly optimistic about life expectancy. This is around the US average.

Whatever the case, if you work in real estate, you likely know/knew of Sam. In my case, he spent a lot of time at Penn after he permanently endowed the real estate center (under both his name and his late business partner’s name).

I used to go and listen to him speak at least twice a year, and I would hang off his every word as a young student of real estate. “So wait, how does this all work?”

It was also at this time that he sold Equity Office to Blackstone for $39 billion (back in 2007, it was the largest private equity deal in history). Sam’s explanation for doing this deal was that Blackstone offered him more than what he thought the portfolio was worth, so he sold it. He took no credit for good market timing.

If you’ve ever heard Sam speak, you know that he’s incredibly direct. Generally, he also didn’t seem to give a fuck, and was happy being the only person in a Hawaiian shirt among a sea of blue and black suits.

In fact, he’s largely the reason that, as students, we used to all joke that the richer the speaker, the more funny and honest they would be. “Come on, let’s go to this one. She’s rich.” I guess this is just what happens when you no longer have anything to prove.

But none of this is to say that he didn’t care. He cared a great deal about the school and about helping young students. And for that, I say: thank you Sam. Thank you for being generous with your time.