My favorite cartoon of all time is called One Froggy Evening (1955), about a man who stumbles upon a mysterious wooden box that contains a single, lowly frog. As the frog slowly emerges from his box, he breaks into a very enthusiastic rendition of popular songs and show tunes. You know, “hello my baby, hello my darlin’, hello my ragtime gaaaal.” 🎶

(Here's a link to view this classic, in case you have not yet had the pleasure.)

One Froggy Evening

Then, an idea pops into the man’s head: he can make a fortune off of his newly-discovered frog friend's unique talents. So, he rents a theatre, sells hundreds of tickets, and waits for the curtains to reveal the 8th wonder of the world—a frog who sings like Harry Styles.

The only problem is, that the frog refuses to sing in the presence of anyone except for this one man. Soon, the entire world thinks the man is a fraud. You can just imagine the man’s frustration, can’t you? What’s more, this frustration is only exacerbated by the frog's cheery willingness to sing another lovely tune as soon as other people have gone home.

My Own Singing Frog

This got me thinking—don't we all have singing frogs in our lives? Not literally, of course. What I mean are…great things that seem so clearly incredible to us, but are invisible to everyone else. Most of my singing frogs have been can’t-miss business ideas. I can't tell you how many sure-fire ideas I’ve come up with that sang like Andreas Bocelli… for no one but me.

I once bought an entire shipping container’s worth of surplus nail polish thinking I could sell it on the export market. I didn’t. However, some of it did make for a good top coat on a famous piece of modern art by Ben Woitena, entitled "Three-Quarter time,” which still sits in Memorial Park in Houston to this day.

"Three Quarter Time" Sculpture by Ben Woitena in Houston's Memorial Park.

What about those zebra skins I imported from Africa? Nobody bought them, and I ended up giving most of them away. But one “singing frog” (see: zebra skin) still sings to me on the floor of my home library. I suppose that's better than nothing.

From Tadpole to Bullfrog

Those two frogs were in my early business days when I was just dabbling. They were more like singing tadpoles.

Now, I want to tell you about one of my singing bullfrogs. This happened midway through my career when I was anything but dabbling. This particular frog could sing AND dance.

In the early 2000s, Russia started reopening itself up to the rest of the world. By 2005 or so, we all thought Russia might be the “next big thing.”, My joint venture partner, General Electric Commercial Aircraft Services (GECAS), had deep ties in Russia. So, when I was invited to Moscow in 2008 to explore the development of a brand new, world-class cargo village (a dedicated area of an airport where cargo is loaded, offloaded, and then stored) at Russia’s largest airport, Domodedovo (DME), I jumped at the opportunity.

DME was (and still is) a privately-owned airport, which, at the time, was headed up by a very forward-thinking young Oligarch who sincerely wanted to make DME one of the finest airports on the planet. We agreed and envisioned a partnership to make this happen.

I travelled to, and from Moscow many times throughout 2008 and. It was exhilarating!

Our enthusiasm was based on the fact that Russia had enormous demand for modern airport infrastructure, and all of the numbers added up. Every time I took that frog out of the box, he wailed like Ike and Tina Turner; “Big wheels keep on turning. Proud Mary keeps on churning. Rolling. Rolling. Rolling down the river.”

This was one of those rare singing frogs that other people could also hear. And for a while, GE was buying tickets to the show. That is, until they weren’t. At some point, maybe around intermission, GE (as well as a few other concertgoers) quit being able to hear the frog sing.

Not me.

Not only could I still hear it sing, but I continued to sing two-part harmony along with that frog every day for months on end. Until one day, the only two that knew the score were me and that frog. Soon enough, not even the frog wanted to sing anymore. There I was, still holding the sheet music, all by my lonesome self.

What Happens When a Frog Grows Up?

The truth was that the deal was just too risky in a country that was still not really stable. On top of that, it turned out our local partners may not have wanted us there in the first place.

So, both GECAS and Lynxs pulled up stakes and left town.

At the time, I thought they were dead wrong. Over time, I came to realize that GECAS was right—I was wrong.

What might have happened to our investment if I’d managed to keep singing my duet with the Russian bullfrog?

Given the events of the last few months—the tragedy unfolding because of Russia’s senseless invasion of Ukraine, the uncoupling of Russia from the West, and how much the world has changed since my overly optimistic foray to Moscow in 2008—it's clear we would have either been run out of town, lost our ass, or likely, both. Sometimes, when you hear the frog singing, but nobody else hears it, YOU might be the frog.

Nevertheless, the show must go on. Not just for my own deals, but also as an angel investor, where I get to see a lot of other singing frogs as well.

For example, one thing I have learned is that in angel deals, there are lots of singing frogs, and they ALL sing danged good—especially in the beginning. Then, you learn that nobody else can hear them but you and a few of your other singing frog friends. To my singing frog friends... you know who you are... I still love you even if that frog don't sing no mo.

Regardless, singing frogs are not an experience limited to just the business world. They’re in the art world, as well.

A Frog in the Art World

Courtesan (after Eisen) Vincent van Gogh (1853 - 1890), Paris, October-November 1887
oil on cotton, 100.7 cm x 60.7 cm
Credits (obliged to state): Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam (Vincent van Gogh Foundation)

I recently visited the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam. The art was lovely and Van Gogh’s story was tragically moving. It was there that I learned his life was a chorus of singing frogs, serenading only him, long before the rest of us could hear. Despite the high regard that the world currently holds for his artistic talent and vision, he was not revered in his own life, during his own time, and died pennilessly. One can imagine everything he painted—those sunflowers, that starry night, those peasants working in the fields, that wonderful crooked room with the red bed... yes, even the frog in the picture above—they were all singing frogs to him. He could hear their songs so clearly (at least, while he still had both of his ears?) but nobody else could.

That’s the thing about singing frogs. Maybe no one else can hear them…yet. But perhaps they will someday. Or maybe no one else can hear them because they’re not really singing frogs, after all. How can you know? Like the man in the cartoon, when we discover our singing frog, we rent a theatre and try to sell tickets. Sometimes the frog sings, other times it just croaks.

The Show Must Go On

Finding our singing frogs is not just about those dollar signs coming out of the man’s head in the cartoon. It’s also about sharing your vision, discoveries, sensibilities, and talent. The truth is, when we discover our singing frog, we want others to hear its song too. A singing frog is not nearly as cool if no one else can hear it.

Now, I have talked about my singing frogs here as if they’re a negative; bad choices, bad decisions, bad outcomes. Of course, when things don't turn out as you had hoped, it's a letdown. On the other hand, I would not like to live in a world where I had never stumbled across my singing frogs at all—a quiet world is a colorless one.

Each of my frogs has taught me a new song, even if that song was just to have a little humility and perhaps get better at taking it on the chin and telling a good joke. After all, even if the jokes are at my expense, the joke itself can still end up being some of the best jokes of all.

Finding My Singing Frogs