Up From the Candy Underground

"Comic books aren't sound investments…the proper thing to do was to get an MBA"

By Larry Kao

Larry Kao
Oxford
MBA Class of 2008

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Applying to business school is a funny process—long and arduous, but funny nonetheless. It generally begins with an intimidated student, in this case my gravely intimidated self, eyes glazing over while scanning the BusinessWeek rankings and wondering which one of these schools I would be attending next fall. Attending a top school meant fighting off the next Bill Gates or Steve Jobs for that seat. How could I compete? But wait a second. Those guys never went to business school.

So why do I want an MBA? Let's pinpoint exactly when I realized an MBA was for me. It may have been the day I sat in on an MBA classroom discussing RMA—return merchandise authorization—processes and the benefits of premium customer support, but that moment was more of a confirmation of why I belonged in an MBA program. How about taking a look at the beginning?

While in the third grade in Orange County, Calif., almost two decades ago, I asked my 80-year-old grandfather, "Grandpa, what should I study so I can make lots of money and make you proud?" My grandfather answered without hesitation, "Business administration."

Although I didn't know what business administration was, I had a fairly good idea what it would lead to. I pictured an older version of myself wearing a black suit, sitting back in a leather executive chair, and sipping a giant mug full of Kool-Aid. Pretty nice.

My First Lucrative Venture

Maybe my grandfather and my grand vision of that leather chair helped spark my interest, but I was only eight. I knew I needed to learn about business when I was forced to shut down my first company: Sierra Vista Middle School's Underground Candy Ring (its street name).

I remember sitting up at nights taping book covers over candy boxes to make them look like algebra textbooks. Coming up with different prices would allow kids to buy single pieces of delicious Cherry Airheads as well as an entire combo package of two juicy Fruit Roll-Ups, three tantalizing Laffy Taffys, and one sparkling Ring Pop—for their girlfriends, of course. After a great few months, I started running into problems. Students started littering the campus with candy wrappers instead of throwing them away. And should you offer discounts to friends? If so, how much? These were the kinds of questions I brooded over during eighth grade. When my business crumbled, I didn't just count my dollars, I went over the details of my year-long venture to figure out what went wrong.

Lesson No. 1: Supply and demand. I went too fast and tried too many things.

My First Failure

With my failed candy-shop experiment, I had made $200, enough to buy a video game console and some games to go

with it.. Listen, when you're 13, being able to afford your own Super Nintendo System is a big deal. Of course, I never bought the video games. I'm a businessman. I decided to invest the money…into comic books. For the better part of my middle school years, the Wizard Guide (basically the comic book version of The Wall Street Journal) was my bible. Not only did I memorize the prices of fan favorites such as Spawn and X-Men (the comics equivalent of the Standard & Poor's 500-stock index), I decided to take an interest in the more obscure books, Bone and Space Usagi (penny stocks). Why I ever thought a white bunny samurai defending his honor in space would one day become the next Superman is completely beyond me, but I invested anyway.

Lesson No. 2: A green Incredible Hulk does not grow into a green Incredible Benjamin. Comic books aren't sound investments.

It was then I decided I needed to learn more about business and investments. I found out the proper thing to do was to get an MBA.