Roasting Each Other, Showing Up for Each Other
I saw this video about friends who roast each other, and it reminded me of my fraternity brothers in Tau Epsilon Phi, Phi Chi Chapter, formerly Epsilon Lambda, at City College of New York. I pledged in Fall 1990. That means I’ve known some of these guys for more than 35 years.
We still get together on Zoom when we can, usually Tuesdays and Fridays. The calls often run about two hours, and they’re so much fun that even a 14-year-old wants to join the insanity.
And there is plenty of insanity. We roast each other about my eyebrows, our dating and marriage decisions, the questionable things we did at the fraternity house in historic Harlem, pranks, a WWE DDT episode, hairlines that have seen better days, and how fat we’ve gotten. If you can imagine it, we’ve probably said it.
But the jokes are only part of the story. When life gets tough, and someone needs help, the same guys who can roast you without mercy will make time to show up for you. That kind of friendship is built over decades—and proven when it matters.
Our creed says it best: “To Live in the Light of Friendship, to Walk in the Path of Chivalry, to Serve for the Love of Service.”
Some of us may be more dependable than others, but the brothers who stay in touch—and stay in touch with me—are the ones I know I can count on. Even if the emergency involves a goat, a bottle of baby oil, and a cord of wood.
The Hinge Experiment: Harry Potter, Market Research and a Very Profitable Weekend
Apparently, the universe has decided that The Hinge Experiment™ needs a travel budget.
I found out yesterday that I might be able to go to Columbia, South Carolina, this weekend for a two-day market research interview/discussion.
That sounds pretty good on its own.
Then I found out there was a small problem.
Airica was hoping we could go see the Harry Potter experience at COSM in Atlanta.
Well, that ain't happening.
Atlanta will have to wait.
But then I realized something.
Airica is in Columbia.
And suddenly, this market research weekend got a whole lot more interesting.
Wait... This Actually Works
The original plan was Harry Potter in Atlanta.
Instead, we're going to have:
Friday night: Dinner with Airica.
Saturday: I do my market research session, then we hang out afterward.
Sunday afternoon: More time together.
So instead of one Harry Potter adventure in Atlanta, I potentially get three opportunities to hang out with Airica in Columbia.
I'm calling that a win.
And there's another little detail that makes this weekend even better.
Somebody Is Paying Me to Go on This Trip
Let's review the economics here.
I'm getting:
A hotel for the weekend.
Food during the market research sessions.
Payment for participating.
And 72 cents per mile for the drive.
Seventy-two cents.
Per.
Mile.
When can I do another one of these?
Seriously.
Where do I sign up?
If somebody wants to pay me to drive to Columbia, put me in a hotel, feed me, pay me for my time, and give me an opportunity to see Airica...
I suddenly have a very strong interest in market research.
I may become the world's foremost expert on answering questions in exchange for hotel rooms.
"Would you recommend this product?"
Absolutely.
"Why?"
Because you're paying me to be here.
Next question.
The Harry Potter Detour
I do feel bad that the Harry Potter plans aren't going to happen.
Airica wanted to see the Harry Potter movie at COSM in Atlanta.
Unfortunately, the timing of this market research opportunity makes that a no-go.
But here's the thing I've learned about dating:
Plans change.
Things come up.
We adjust.
And instead of spending the weekend apart because the original plan didn't work, we're finding a way to spend time together anyway.
Friday night.
Saturday after my session.
Sunday afternoon.
I'm pretty sure that's significantly better than sitting in my hotel room eating whatever they give me and watching television.
Although I reserve the right to do that for at least part of Saturday night.
I'm 54.
I'm allowed to get tired.
Then Came This Morning
This morning, I beat Airica to the "Good morning" text.
This is apparently becoming a competition.
And I have to admit, I hesitated.
It was my usual dialysis morning.
The time when most normal human beings are asleep.
The time when I'm awake because I have an appointment with the vampire machine to clean my blood.
The dialysis facility was also short-staffed, so I ended up sitting in the waiting area.
And while I was sitting there, I thought:
Should I text her?
It's early.
Really early.
Most of the world isn't awake at the hour I willingly allow a machine to remove approximately every useful thing from my blood while someone sticks two needles into my arm.
Would "Good morning" at this hour be considered sweet?
Or would it be considered:
"Why the hell is this guy texting me at 5-something in the morning?"
There's a fine line between romantic and requiring a restraining order.
I decided to risk it.
I sent the message.
Apparently, I'm Learning
One thing I've noticed about this whole experience is how different it feels.
I'm not trying to manufacture conversation.
I'm not sitting there wondering if I'm going to get a response.
I'm not staring at a Hinge screen wondering why someone disappeared.
We're actually talking.
We're making plans.
And now we're figuring out how to make a weekend work when the original plan doesn't.
That's dating.
At least, I think that's dating.
Remember, I'm the guy whose recent dating résumé includes being asked for rent money and a phone bill.
My qualifications are limited.
Columbia, Here I Come
So now I get to drive to Columbia, get paid to participate in market research, get reimbursed for the mileage, stay in a hotel, eat someone else's food...
and see Airica three times.
Harry Potter may have lost.
But I think I came out pretty well in the rewrite.
And somewhere, Steve the Iguana is probably sitting on a beach wondering how the hell this happened.
A few weeks ago, I was seriously considering deleting Hinge.
Now I'm planning a weekend around a woman I met on it.
Maybe The Hinge Experiment isn't quite ready to end.
Maybe it's just getting interesting.
And if anyone knows where I can sign up for another two-day market research study in a city where Airica happens to live...
I'm available. 😂
Day 114: Nextdoor Finally Found a Way to Sell What It Knows
Nextdoor just launched Neighborhood Intelligence, and I think it could be one of the most important developments I've seen in this 114-day case study.
The basic idea is pretty simple: Nextdoor has spent 15 years building a massive collection of neighborhood-level information. Now it's turning that information into an advertiser product.
Nextdoor says its Neighborhood Intelligence platform maps roughly 350,000 neighborhoods and analyzes signals including neighbor activity, household information, and neighborhood-level activity. It gives advertisers a much more granular view than traditional ZIP-code targeting. Nextdoor Business
That's potentially valuable.
And it brings me back to something I've been saying for a while:
The Data Has Value
For years, neighbors have supplied the conversations, recommendations, reviews, opinions, and local knowledge that make Nextdoor useful.
Now Nextdoor is packaging neighborhood intelligence into something advertisers can use.
That's business.
But here's my question:
Why did it take 15 years?
Nextdoor has been around since 2011. It went public in 2021. Yet it has never achieved GAAP profitability. Even after the recent improvement, Q2 2026 produced a $2 million net loss, although revenue reached a record $75 million and adjusted EBITDA was $10 million. Securities and Exchange Commission
That's a long time to possess a potentially unique asset without figuring out how to turn it into sustainable profits.
Don't Blame Just the Current CEO
It's tempting to point the finger at Nirav Tolia.
He returned as CEO in 2024 and has been tasked with turning the company around.
But that's too easy.
Nirav founded Nextdoor and ran it for years before leaving the CEO role. He then returned.
So this isn't simply:
“The new CEO hasn't figured it out.”
The company has had 15 years to find its niche, monetize its advantages and create sustainable shareholder value.
Now, perhaps, we're seeing a clearer path.
The Neighborhood May Be the Niche
That's what interests me about Neighborhood Intelligence.
Nextdoor doesn't have to beat Google at everything.
It doesn't have to beat Meta at everything.
It doesn't have to become another generic social-media platform.
Maybe the opportunity is much narrower:
Own neighborhood-level intelligence.
Nextdoor says its neighborhood graph provides roughly 12 times the geographic granularity of ZIP-code targeting in covered areas, and its pilot campaigns showed lifts in brand awareness, ad recall and favorability compared with ZIP-code targeting. Investing.com
If advertisers will pay for that advantage, now we're talking.
That's the kind of niche I want Nextdoor to own.
And Then There's the Dividend
I'm not saying Nextdoor should pay a dividend tomorrow.
The company needs to continue investing, improve profitability, and determine the best use of its capital.
But eventually, that's the shareholder question:
Can this company consistently generate enough cash to reward the people who invested in it?
A $100 million share-repurchase authorization already shows that returning capital to shareholders is part of the conversation. Simply Wall St
I'd like to see the next step be sustainable profitability.
Then, someday, perhaps a dividend.
Because revenue isn't the finish line.
Profitability is.
Day 114
Here's the irony.
I've spent 114 days asking Nextdoor for detailed information about its Insights research.
Now Nextdoor is announcing a product that essentially says:
Our neighborhood data is valuable.
I agree.
I've been saying that.
The difference is that Nextdoor is now trying to prove it in the marketplace.
Good.
Now show me that this isn't just another interesting product.
Show me that Nextdoor can turn 15 years of neighborhood intelligence into a sustainable, profitable business.
Because that's what shareholders ultimately need.
Not just data.
Results.
And maybe—finally—Nextdoor has found the niche.
👉 NielFlamm.com/blog
The Hinge Experiment: Please Do Not Touch Those Eyebrows
Today was one of those days when I feel like I need a vacation from my day.
It started with an eye appointment.
The good news: the retina is still attached.
That seems like a pretty good way to start a Tuesday.
I go back in a month for another check. The purpose of that visit is to make sure I haven't developed macular edema, specifically DME. If everything still looks good, I'll move to appointments every three months to make sure I don't eventually need one of those delightful shots directly into my eyeball.
Because apparently normal people get eye exams.
I get eye exams where the doctor is checking whether my retina is still where it belongs and whether we're going to have to inject something into my eye.
Dating after 50 is exciting.
Then Recovery
After the eye appointment, I went to a recovery meeting for an hour.
Airica knows I'm in recovery.
There's no reason to hide it, and frankly, I'm not interested in hiding it.
It's part of my life.
Just like dialysis.
Just like the prosthetic.
Just like the eyes.
Just like the eyebrows.
Apparently, the eyebrows may actually be the most important part of this story.
We'll get to that.
Then Off to the Vascular Surgeon
After the meeting, I headed over to Novant to have my fistula graft checked.
The good news continued.
Everything looks good.
I don't have to go back for four months.
I'll take that.
So far today:
Retina attached.
Fistula graft good.
Recovery meeting completed.
Eyebrows apparently still under consideration.
Then It Was Time for Mom
I stopped at Come Back Shack and picked up lunch.
For me:
Fried chicken salad with ranch.
For Mom:
Hawaiian chicken salad with fries.
I got to the skilled nursing facility and found Mom asleep.
Instead of waking her up, I left her food on the rolling tray next to her bed.
By then, lunch had apparently become dinner.
I sat in the lobby, ate my salad, and checked movie times.
Why?
Because apparently there is a new Tom Cruise movie called Digger.
Review coming.
Yes, I am aware that my life has somehow become a combination of dialysis, medical appointments, recovery, assisted living research, dating, and Tom Cruise movie reviews.
I'm leaning into it.
And Then My Phone Buzzed
Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I heard from Airica.
And one of her first messages was:
"Please do not touch those eyebrows."
Ladies and gentlemen...
We have confirmation.
For those of you wondering whether Airica actually likes the Ming the Merciless look...
She does.
I have proof.
Apparently, these eyebrows aren't a problem.
They're a feature.
The threading appointment is canceled.
My eyebrows live to fight another day.
The Conversation Continues
Airica and I had another awesome conversation.
We talked about having a wish.
Then somehow that conversation turned into Amazon Prime Day.
Then Christmas lists.
Then Sono Bello.
Apparently, I need to lose about 20 pounds.
This is becoming an aggressive dating strategy.
First:
"Don't touch your eyebrows."
At least she's keeping me on my toes.
Then We Went Everywhere
We talked about the songs I listened to while driving around Mount Pleasant.
We talked about me going to a recovery meeting.
She knows I'm in recovery, so there isn't any reason for me to pretend otherwise.
We talked about my salad.
I even sent her a completely respectable picture of it.
Not a nasty selfie.
A salad selfie.
Apparently, there are levels to dating after 50.
I'm choosing to believe this is one of them.
Then somehow the conversation moved to pizza.
And tiramisu.
Apparently there's some saying involving "Not the tiramisu?"
My 54-year-old brain did not comprehend the reference.
It went straight over my head.
Apparently there are cultural references I missed while I was busy doing whatever the hell I was doing for the last 30 years.
I'll have to investigate.
The Important Part
For those keeping score at home:
The conversation is still awesome.
And we're making plans to hang out this weekend.
Together.
Not hanging out with each other, which would be a fairly ridiculous definition of a date.
That's another thing I like about this.
We're not spending all day trying to figure out whether the other person is interested.
We're actually talking.
We're making plans.
We're learning things about each other.
And I'm not sitting around staring at Hinge wondering why my match disappeared into the digital abyss.
This is different.
Tuesday and Friday Have One Problem
I did let Airica know that Tuesday and Friday nights are already spoken for.
Those nights belong to my fraternity brothers and our Zoom hangout.
And without fail, I get grilled about the date.
How did it go?
What did you talk about?
Are you going to see her again?
What happened?
Basically, it's like having a Greek chorus of nosy brothers who have collectively decided that my dating life is their new favorite television show.
Now they have even more material.
Because there was a first date.
There was a mug.
There's a second-date possibility.
There are weekend plans.
And apparently, the eyebrows have received official approval.
I'm sure Tuesday's Zoom will be completely normal.
Absolutely no one will ask me about Airica.
Sure.
And I'm the guy who almost fell into a booth on his first date.
The Hinge Experiment Update
A few weeks ago, I was wondering if it was time to delete Hinge.
I had no matches.
No conversations.
No dates.
Steve the Iguana was practically packing my bags.
Now?
I've had an actual first date.
It went well.
I'm still talking to her.
We're making plans for the weekend.
She sends me good morning texts.
She likes my eyebrows.
And somehow, I'm okay with all of this.
For once, The Hinge Experiment doesn't feel like an experiment.
It feels like I'm just getting to know someone.
And that's probably the best part.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a retina to keep attached, a fistula graft to maintain, a movie to review, a mother to visit, fraternity brothers to answer to...
And 54-year-old dating decisions to make.
Oh, and apparently I'm keeping the eyebrows.
Airica has spoken.
The Invite: Dinner, Drinks and a Very Different Kind of Party
What happens when you take two couples, put them together for dinner, add some wine, and give them VERY different ideas about relationships?
That's basically where The Invite starts.
Joe and Angela, played by Seth Rogen and Olivia Wilde, are in a comfortable relationship.
Maybe a little TOO comfortable.
Then there's Pina and Hawk, played by Penélope Cruz and Edward Norton.
They're newer, more adventurous, and definitely more willing to explore their relationship.
And Pina happens to be a sex therapist.
Yeah...
You can probably see where this is going.
Or can you?
I actually really enjoyed the chemistry between Rogen and Wilde. Their banter feels natural, and Olivia Wilde—who also directed the movie—knows when to let Seth be Seth and when to take control of a scene.
Then you have Cruz and Norton bringing an entirely different energy to the table.
Literally.
Because once these four people get together...
Dinner gets interesting.
I had a pretty good idea where the movie was going.
But there were enough twists, uncomfortable moments, and relationship questions to keep me watching.
And that's what I get into in my full review.
Is The Invite worth watching?
Is it funny?
Is it uncomfortable?
And what happens when one couple's idea of a healthy relationship is VERY different from another couple's?
I'm not giving all of that away here.
You'll have to watch the video.
🎬 Watch my full The Invite review:
NielFlamm.com/videos/moviereviews
And trust me...
This is one dinner party where “Just bring a bottle of wine” probably won’t cut it.