Tech + Gadgets
All over San Francisco, famously host to a cycle of boom-and-bust since the Gold Rush days, the debate continues in coffee shops and boardrooms as to whether this latest tech boom will soon turn into yet another bubble doomed to pop, dashing dreams all around.
If your house is anything like mine, you too have a growing inventory of old cell phones, video games, and DVDs sitting around, gathering dust.
You could always try to sell them on eBay, or at some trade-in site. But the problem is that unless you’re already a proficient user of eBay, or similar sites, the process of auctioning off goods is not all that intuitive, and can easily turn into a time-sink. Now, there's an easier way.
A few years ago, one of the general partners at Trinity Ventures, Dan Scholnick, started floating the idea to his colleagues that the VC firm should expand from its headquarters on Sand Hill Road by establishing a beachhead in San Francisco.
At first, the other partners didn't see the need, but during 2010-11, something started to change.
“When we launched in the summer of ’08, our goal was to make a second brain for people -- to help them remember stuff better,” says Evernote CEO Phil Libin. “Everyone could use a second brain.”
Three-and-a-half years later, some 22 million users have discovered Evernote, without any marketing or advertising by the company. It’s all been by word of mouth.
Check this out: Sixty hours of video are uploaded to YouTube every minute, which translates to an hour of video every second.
Think about that. No single human being is ever going to watch all of these clips of "Charlie Bit My Finger," not to mention kittens, music performances and product demos. We need curators.
If you ever wonder what they’re eating for lunch over at Dropbox, Square or Yelp, the guy to ask is Zach Yungst, co-founder of Cater2.me.
Yungst and his co-founder, Alex Lorton, are Wharton graduates who have brought their business expertise to street food vendors, matching them up with tech startups that order in lunch most days.
It’s Friday evening, and you desperately want a table at Frances.Unless you’re a VIP who keeps the general manager on speed dial, you scour OpenTable where, if you’re lucky, you may find a seat at 5 or 10 p.m.—score one for little old ladies and European tourists. But here’s what you don’t know: The lack of seats doesn’t necessarily mean the house is packed. Turns out, some of the city’s hottest restaurants hide peak-hour tables from the only major reservations system online.