US Air Force photo by Senior Airman Chanceler Nardone
Ukraine is preparing ways to protect its F-16s while at base, its air force said.
This includes building bunkers and dispersing the US-made aircraft when they arrive.
Ukraine is expected to receive the first F-16s from its allies this summer.
Ukraine's air force said it is preparing for the arrival of F-16s by building underground stores and bunkers at its bases.
Major Ilya Yevlash, a spokesperson for the Air Force of the Ukrainian Armed Forces, said that Ukraine's plans for how to keep the much-sought-after aircraft safe while at base are being carefully developed.
He said the effort "necessitates proper preparation of their basing locations. It involves substantial costs, including underground shelters and bunkers. Therefore, methods are being developed on how best to deploy them," according to RBC-Ukraine.
Yevlash also said that Ukraine will disperse the jets to different types of bases, making it harder for Russia to detect them.
The planes will boost Ukraine's air force, which is smaller and older than Russia's, and will allow Ukraine to conduct more strikes against Russia, while also adding to its defensive capabilities.
Ukraine has been requesting US-made F-16s since the beginning of Russia's full-scale invasion in February 2022, but the US did not sign off on allowing allies to send them until last summer.
Military aircraft are often at their most vulnerable when they are sat at base, and countries concentrate weaponry like air defense systems around airbases as a result.
The Associated Press has reported that Ukraine may use Western air bases when it gets F-16s because the jets require high-standard runways and protective hangars.
But the air force's update suggests that Ukraine plans on keeping at least some F-16s in Ukraine during periods when they are not flying.
Russian President Vladimir Putin warned last month that Western air bases that host F-16s for Ukraine would be "legitimate" targets for his armed forces.
A Japan Airlines flight from Dallas to Tokyo was canceled after the captain got drunk in a hotel.
A replacement pilot could not be found in time for the morning departure.
The airline told Japanese media that police were called due to the pilot's disorderly behavior.
A Japan Airlines flight from Dallas to Tokyo was canceled after a captain got drunk at a hotel bar and received a warning from police, the airline said, according to Japanese media.
The Mainichi, which cited a statement from Japan Airlines, reported that the captain dined in Dallas last week with other crew members.
According to the outlet, the airline said he then continued to drink throughout the evening in the hotel lounge where the crew were staying and, later, in his hotel room.
At around 2 a.m. on Tuesday, a hotel employee asked the group to be quiet, but the pilot's disorderly conduct prompted a call to the police, The Mainichi reported.
According to statements provided by the airline, police questioned the man and warned him not to cause any further problems.
The newspaper said the airline's decision to cancel the flight stemmed from the need to assess the captain's physical and mental well-being.
Japan Airlines did not immediately respond to Business Insider's request for comment.
Japan Airlines told The Mainichi it could not find a replacement pilot in time for the Wednesday morning departure.
Data from the flight-tracking website FlightAware shows that the flight, due to depart at 11:05 a.m. local time on Wednesday, was canceled.
Japan Airlines helped to transfer the 157 passengers who were supposed to be on board onto alternative flights, The Mainichi reported.
Although a relatively rare occurrence, there have been several recent incidents of pilots reporting for duty under the influence.
Le Parisien reported that he had a blood-alcohol level of 0.132%, more than six times the legal limit for pilots in Europe and three times the Federal Aviation Administration's limit.
Mint Butterfield, center, is the daughter of Stewart Butterfield and Caterina Fake.
Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images for Wired, Marin County Sheriff's Office, Andrew Toth/Getty Images for Vanity Fair
Mint Butterfield, 16, was discovered after going missing for six days.
Butterfield was found in a van belonging to a 26-year-old man.
Butterfield's parents cofounded Flickr, and their father later cofounded Slack.
A 26-year-old man was arrested after the child of two tech moguls was found in the back of his van.
Mint Butterfield, 16, was missing for six days before being discovered by police in San Francisco on Saturday.
Butterfield, who uses they/them pronouns, is the child of two tech founders. Their parents, Caterina Fake and Stewart Butterfield, cofounded Flickr in 2004, and Stewart Butterfield went on to cofound Slack.
Their disappearance resulted in an extensive search effort in Tenderloin, an area in San Francisco known for homelessness, crime, and drugs.
Police had warned that the teen's safety was at risk due to a previous threat of suicide.
Butterfield was found safe in San Francisco on Saturday, in the back of a white van belonging to Christopher "Kio" Dizefalo, according to a press release issued by the Marin County Sheriff's Office.
Dizefalo was described in the press release as an "adult friend" of Butterfield's. He was arrested in connection to "multiple criminal violations," and taken into custody at Marin County Jail, where his bail was set at $50,000, the press release said.
Police didn't clarify what the charges were, though the press release added that the teen had run away from home "voluntarily."
However, according to records obtained by The San Francisco Standard, Dizefalo is being held on suspicion of child abduction as well as a misdemeanor charge of "contributing to the delinquency of a minor."
Adam Schermerhorn, a representative for Marin County Sheriff's Office, previously told People there was no reason to believe "foul play" or "anything criminal" was related to Butterfield's disappearance.
Speaking to the Standard after Dizefalo's arrest, Schermerhorn said: "It's based on statements that were made and some work that our detectives were able to uncover."
"I don't think there was foul play related to kidnapping or anything else, which is what some people were saying is what happened," he added.
Marin County Sheriff's Office did not immediately respond to requests for comment. Dizefalo does not currently have a lawyer listed.
In a joint statement sent to the press, Butterfield's parents and stepdad, Jyri Engeström, thanked "family, friends, volunteers and strangers who called in tips and made this recovery possible," according to the Standard.
"We especially want to thank the seasoned law enforcement officers who understand the very real threat of predators who use the allure of drugs to groom teenagers," they added.
Butterfield's parents, Stewart Butterfield and Caterina Fake, were married from 2001 until 2007, the New York Post reported.
They cofounded Flickr together in 2004, and went on to sell the company to Yahoo in 2005 for an estimated $30 million, the outlet said.
Stewart Butterfield cofounded Slack in 2013 with Cal Henderson. In December 2022, he left the company.
He's worth an estimated $1.6 billion, according to Forbes.
An elderly woman named Patricia says American Airlines keeps getting her age wrong.
The computer can't process that Patricia was born in 1922, not 2022.
Airlines have increasingly adopted computerization across systems, but glitches often affect the most vulnerable passengers.
American Airlines cabin crew were expecting to look after a baby on board a flight from Chicago to Marquette, Michigan, this weekend.
But sitting in the seat designated for the infant, they instead found a 101-year-old woman, according to a BBC reporter who was also on the flight.
The centenarian, Patricia, had booked the seat for an adult but laughed off the incident with the confused cabin crew.
Patricia told the BBC: "It was funny that they thought I was only a little child and I'm an old lady!"
But she said it was not the first time American Airlines had mistaken her for a baby.
Patricia, who flies every year to visit family, said that the airline's booking system cannot seem to process the fact that she was born in 1922 rather than 2022.
"My daughter made the reservation online for the ticket, and the computer at the airport thought my birth date was 2022 and not 1922," she told the BBC.
During a previous trip, the glitch meant that airport staff met her after a flight without a pre-arranged wheelchair, thinking that they would just transport a baby through the terminal.
"The same thing happened last year and they were also expecting a child and not me," said Patricia.
She had to wait on the plane until all other passengers had disembarked while they brought her a wheelchair.
"I would like them to fix the computer as my poor daughter had to carry all our luggage and apparel almost a mile from one gate to the other," she told the BBC.
American Airlines did not immediately respond to a request for comment from Business Insider.
Airlines are increasingly adopting automation across their systems to make operations more efficient.
And passengers mostly embrace the convenience that technology brings to their travel experiences. In the latest annual American Customer Satisfaction Index, app services, ease of making reservations, and airlines' websites were the factors that customers were most satisfied with when traveling with US airlines.
But while technology generally makes operations smoother and more efficient, glitches routinely pop up, often affecting more vulnerable passengers with special requirements.
Errors with technology have also caused serious disruption to global travel.
For example, a glitch in the UK's national automatic flight-planning system last August left air traffic control staff processing flights by hand. The issue led to more than 1,500 flight cancellations across Europe.
A full-time Cleveland Uber driver took home $17,000 in profits last year. The driver in the story is not pictured.
Universal Images Group/Getty Images
A Cleveland Uber driver made over $109,000 in gross earnings last year but only took home $17,000.
He said Uber driving has become less profitable but that he's not sure he can find a better job.
The driver said his lack of a college degree and physical limitations leave him with few options.
George, a full-time Uber driver in Cleveland, wants to quit his ride-hailing gig. But for now, he feels like he has no choice but to keep driving.
The 40-year-old, who has been driving for Uber since 2017, was once quite satisfied with his ride-hailing income, he told Business Insider via email. But his feelings have changed considerably in recent years.
"I used to sing the praises of Uber and recommend doing Uber to people looking for a business opportunity and one where a decent income can be made — but no longer," said George, whose identity is known to BI but he asked to use a pseudonym due to his fear of professional repercussions.
In 2023, George made more than $109,000 in gross earnings as an Uber driver, according to documents viewed by BI. But after Uber's commissions, car maintenance, gas, and miscellaneous driving expenses were accounted for, he took home roughly $17,000,about 16% of his gross earnings. In 2021, he took home about 19% of his gross earnings.
George said he drives between 45 and 55 hours in the typical week and estimated that, after expenses like gas and maintenance, he earned about $17 an hour in 2023 — excluding depreciation and insurance costs.
"Now I'd have to drive around 10 to 12 hours per day, six days a week, if I wanted to make a large sum like I was able to years ago, by working maybe 30 to 40 hours a week," George said. He recalled one particularly profitable week in 2022, when he estimated he earned roughly $40 an hour after expenses.
George is one of several Uber and Lyft drivers who have told Business Insider their ride-hailing gigs are less profitable than they used to be. They've accused ride-hailing giants of taking a large cut of rider fares and said increased driver competition and high vehicle expenses, like gas and maintenance, haven't helped matters. These frustrations have led to drivers' protests and calls for higher guaranteed pay, with a showdown in Minneapolis among the most recent escalation of tensions.
The average Uber driver's earnings before expenses declined from $29 an hour in 2022 to $25 in 2023, according to a study from Gridwise, a data analytics company and app that helps drivers track their earnings. A study commissioned by the state of Minnesota and released in March found that in 2022, drivers in the Twin Cities metro area earned less than $14 an hour after expenses.
In February, an Uber representative told BI that "the vast majority of drivers are satisfied," and that "as of last quarter, drivers in the US were making about $33 per utilized hour" before expenses.
Many ride-hailing drivers, like George, are actively tracking their income and expenses to make sure driving is worth their time. But deciphering one's true profitability — or lack thereof — often isn't straightforward.
And even when a full-time driver gets a decent sense of their profits — and doesn't like what they see — quitting driving for another job isn't always so easy either.
"I continue to run into a brick wall"
While George wants to trade in Uber driving for a more traditional job, he said there are three reasons he can't.
First, he said that between his rent and other bills, he can't afford to take a job that will pay him less than ride-hailing does. And he's not confident he'd be able to find one that checked this box.
"I would only be able to earn, say, up to $20 an hour at a brick-and-mortar job, which would leave me in pretty much the same boat, so that's not a solution," he said. "I don't have a degree, so my vocation pool is limited."
In recent years, some companies have become more open to hiring candidates who don't have a college degree. There's also been job growth in industries that historically haven't required degrees, like manufacturing and food services.
But finding a job without a degree— and one that pays well — can still be a challenge for some people. Among Americans aged 25 and older, the unemployment rate of people with only a high school diploma is 3.9%, compared to 2.2% for those whose highest educational levelis a bachelor's degree, per the Bureau of Labor Statistics.
Second, George said he has a bad hip that will likely eventually require hip replacement surgery. Given that a 10-minute shower can leave him in "excruciating pain," he said any job that required standing for long periods wouldn't work either.
Having physical limitations can make it much harder for people to land a suitable job. In 2023, about 44% of men and women between the ages of 25 and 54 with a disability had a job, compared to roughly 83% of people without a disability, per the Bureau of Labor Statistics. In recent years, the rise of remote work has helped more people with disabilities find employment.
Third, George said his roommate has health issues that make them unable to drive. George said ride-hailing provides him with the necessary flexibility to transport his roommate to doctor's appointments and to and from their workplace.
"There are a number of frustrations because I only want to better my life," George said. "But because of the situation as it is, I continue to run into a brick wall."
George said he sees one potential way out: becoming a truck driver, an occupation in high demand in some areas of the US. The job could pay more than ride-hailing — the median driver makes about $54,000 a year, per the BLS — and would be manageable for his hip. If George pursues this job path, he said his roommate is open to figuring out an alternative transportation option.
But this solution could come with some challenges of its own. For one, George said the training costs several thousand dollars and that he'd have to undergo several weeks of unpaid training to get the commercial driver's license necessary for the job. He's also not sure he can afford to forego income for that long.
"I'd have to save money to be able to help my roommate afford things while I was away from home and not earning income," he said. "As all things in life are, it's complicated and not just as simple as making the change."
Are you a gig worker willing to share your story about pay, schedule, and tipping? Are you struggling to find a better job? If so, reach out to this reporter at jzinkula@businessinsider.com.
"Satya and the entire senior leadership team lean on Gates very significantly," said one executive. "His opinion is sought every time we make a major change."
In 2017, just before Microsoft forged a partnership with a then relatively unknown startup called OpenAI, Bill Gates shared a memo with CEO Satya Nadella and a small group of the company's top executives. A new world order, Gates predicted, would soon be brought on by what he called "AI agents" — digital personal assistants that could anticipate our every want and need. These agents would be far more powerful than Siri and Alexa, with godlike knowledge and supernatural intuition.
"Agents are not only going to change how everyone interacts with computers," Gates wrote. "They're also going to upend the software industry, bringing about the biggest revolution in computing since we went from typing commands to tapping on icons."
At the time, the memo struck those who read it as far-fetched. "It seemed super futuristic," a Microsoft executive who spoke on the condition of anonymity said. Microsoft had been widely mocked for its previous attempts at creating personal "agents," from its failed Office assistant Clippy to its racist chatbot, Tay. Few at the time would have believed a new generation of these agents would transform Microsoft.
Today, though, it's clear that Gates' secret correspondence anticipated Copilot, the artificial-intelligence tool that has helped propel Microsoft to become the world's most valuable public company. Powered by a version of OpenAI's GPT large language model, Copilot debuted last year as a tool within Microsoft products to help users with tasks such as preparing presentations and summarizing meetings. "Copilot now sounds exactly like what he wrote," the executive said.
That's not by accident.
Publicly, Gates has been almost entirely out of the picture at Microsoft since 2021, following allegations that he had behaved inappropriately toward female employees. In fact, Business Insider has learned, Gates has been quietly orchestrating much of Microsoft's AI revolution from behind the scenes. Current and former executives say Gates remains intimately involved in the company's operations — advising on strategy, reviewing products, recruiting high-level executives, and nurturing Microsoft's crucial relationship with Sam Altman, the cofounder and CEO of OpenAI. In early 2023, when Microsoft debuted a version of its search engine Bing turbocharged by the same technology as ChatGPT, throwing down the gauntlet against competitors like Google, Gates, executives said, was pivotal in setting the plan in motion. While Nadella might be the public face of the company's AI success — the Oz who built the yellow-brick road to a $3 trillion juggernaut — Gates has been the man behind the curtain.
"What you read is not what's happening in reality," another Microsoft executive said. "Satya and the entire senior leadership team lean on Gates very significantly. His opinion is sought every time we make a major change."
When Nadella took over the reins from Steve Ballmer a decade ago, Microsoft was seen as a dinosaur of the computer age it had helped pioneer. Peter Thiel bashed the company as "a bet against technological innovation."So Nadella, who had worked at Microsoft since 1992, turned to his former boss for help. On the day Nadella became CEO, he asked Gates to spend 30% of his time as a technical advisor, in part to help motivate his staff. "When I say, 'Hey, I want you to go run this by Bill,' I know they're going to do their best job prepping for it," he told Wired at the time.
In 2020, when Gates stepped down as chair of Microsoft's board, Nadella showered him with praise. The company, Nadella promised, would "continue to benefit from Bill's ongoing technical passion and advice to drive our products and services forward."
But a year later, Nadella's embrace of Gates appeared to change — at least publicly. In 2021, as Gates and his wife, Melinda, were divorcing, The Wall Street Journal reported that Gates had been forced to step down as the company investigated him for having an affair with an employee. As news of Gates' misconduct went viral, the squeaky-clean reputation he and his public-relations team had meticulously crafted over the years unraveled. Several female employees came forward with stories of Gates asking them out, and his meetings with Jeffrey Epstein, including a flight on Epstein's private jet, came under renewed scrutiny. Suddenly, Nadella's mentor had become his greatest liability, and he and Microsoft quickly distanced themselves from Gates.
"The Microsoft of 2021 is very different from the Microsoft of 2000," Nadella said at the time. "The power dynamic in the workplace is not something that can be abused in any form." The company's greatest responsibility, he later added, is "cultivating a culture where everyone is empowered to do meaningful work."
But among the people whom Nadella secretly empowered to do meaningful work, BI has learned, was Gates himself. Rather than banishing him from the company, Nadella continued to draw on his advice and expertise — making Gates a key player in Microsoft's efforts to vie for dominance inAI.
The common lore about Microsoft's marriage with OpenAI is that it was brokered by Kevin Scott, the company's chief technology officer. Scott had known Altman for years, and in summer 2018, he arranged a meeting between Altman and Nadella. Later that year, the three men hammered out an initial deal, and the rest is history.
According to two executives, Gates' memo treated as gospel, sparking Microsoft's push to take the lead in the AI arms race.
But lost in that origin story is that Gates had been regularly meeting with OpenAI since 2016. Ever since he published "The Road Ahead" in 1995, Gates had been dreaming of a world in which everyone would navigate the internet using software that would "have a personality you'll be able to talk to in one form or another" and that would "learn about your requirements and preferences in much the way that a human assistant does." Under Gates' leadership, Microsoft had launched several primitive and widely ridiculed versions of agents — from Rover, a cartoon dog that guided you through Windows 95, to Clippy, the most hated paperclip of all time. Now, it seemed, OpenAI might offer Microsoft a way to help forge the AI future that Gates had long envisioned. After the two companies formed their partnership, OpenAI's leaders conducted regular presentations for Gates at his 66,000-square-foot mansion in Washington, keeping him apprised of critical benchmarks and significant obstacles.
It was Gates, in fact, who played a pivotal role in turning OpenAI and Microsoft into a power couple. In mid-2022 — two years after he was ousted from the board — he privately challenged Altman and OpenAI to create a model capable of passing an Advanced Placement biology exam. Gates didn't think it could be done.Altman andOpenAI debuted GPT-4 for the first time outside the company at Gates' house in August 2022 during a dinner; Nadella was among the guests.When it aced the test, Gates was shocked, calling it "the most stunning demo I've ever seen in my life."
The demo prompted Gates to write another memo — what one former executive referred to as "the memo" — spelling out how Microsoft should use GPT-4. Gates stressed that the large language model, trained on the entirety of the public internet, could finally usher in the era of personal agents. "Think of it as a digital personal assistant," he wrote in a version of that memo later posted on his blog. "It will see your latest emails, know about the meetings you attend, read what you read, and read the things you don't want to bother with."
According to two executives, Gates' words were treated as gospel, helping spark Microsoft's push to take the lead in the AI arms race. Soon after Gates' dinner, Nadella hosted a meeting on Microsoft's campus, where he challenged the teams to incorporate AI into search, cybersecurity, and its Microsoft 365 suite of business applications, which includes Word and Outlook.
Early the following year, Microsoft introduced a new version of its beleaguered search engine, Bing — now turbocharged with a GPT-enabled agent that would later be named Copilot. Almost overnight, thanks to Gates' maneuvering, Microsoft had transformed Bing from a search engine on life support to an AI-powered tool that had a chance to give Google a run for its money.
In February 2023, Microsoft held an event at its headquarters similar to a Steve Jobs iPhone launch. Nadella, beaming, declared war on Google. Gates did not appear to be in attendance.
Today, Gates remains close with Altman, who visits his home a few times a year, and OpenAI seeks his counsel on developments. There's a "tight coupling" between Gates and OpenAI, a person familiar with the relationship said. "Sam and Bill are good friends. OpenAI takes his opinion and consult overall seriously." OpenAI spokesperson Kayla Wood confirmed OpenAI continues to meet with Gates.
Last fall, Nadella and Microsoft scrambled to quell the chaos when OpenAI's board abruptly fired Altman. Frank Shaw, a Microsoft spokesperson, told BI that if Gates was speaking with Altman, it was not on behalf of the company. "Bill is not at Microsoft and not involved here," Shaw told BI at the time.
During the five-day fracas that followed, Gates — with his own recent experience with an ouster — reached out to Altman to offer support as he negotiated a return to the leadership of OpenAI.
Today, insiders say Gates' sway at Microsoft extends far beyond OpenAI.
Executives from across the company — including its business-applications boss, Charles Lamanna; its chief scientist, Jaime Teevan; its Teams chat-app boss, Jeff Teper; and its head of cybersecurity, Charlie Bell — meet regularly with Gates to review products. He's also personally involved in recruiting and retaining important executives for Microsoft. "Gates is very involved with product reviews and one-on-ones with executives," a former executive said. Last year, Gates told Forbes he spent about 10% of his time in Redmond, Washington, advising Microsoft on product road maps.
Gates over years has also pushed Microsoft to be more consumer-focused, despite many consumer technology failures. In March, many observers were shocked when the company announced it was hiring Mustafa Suleyman, who cofounded DeepMind and spent many years at Google, to lead a new consumer-AI organization. "Bill G. thinks the major opportunity is consumers," one insider said. "If you look at the new consumer-AI organization, that looks like Bill's influence on Satya." Shaw said Gates was not involved in hiring Suleyman.
All this is a far cry from the perception that Gates has been kept at a distance ever since he was ousted from the board. Gates, who has continued to keep a low profile, has emerged from the scandal largely unscathed; today, the allegations of his misconduct aren't even mentioned in his Wikipedia entry. The Microsoft of 2024, it appears, is not as different from the Microsoft of 2021 as Nadella would have everyone believe. Gates is not gone, but his checkered past has been largely forgotten.
Shaw said there hadn't been any substantial changes in Gates' role as a technical advisor since he left the board in 2020. Gates declined an interview request and his representative did not respond to a request for comment.
Near the end of "The Road Ahead," Gates got existential. "It's a little scary that as computer technology has moved ahead, there's never been a leader from one era who was also a leader in the next," he lamented at the ripe age of 39. "So from a historical perspective, I guess Microsoft is disqualified from leading in the highway era of the Information Age."
Then the middle-aged Gates revealed his true ambition: "I want to defy historical tradition."
Now approaching 70, Gates is still defying history — this time from behind the scenes. And if the revived fortunes of Microsoft are any indication, he appears to be winning.
Ashley Stewart is a chief technology correspondent at Business Insider. She reports on enterprise technology companies including Microsoft and Amazon Web Services from Seattle.
Are you a Microsoft employee or someone else with insight to share? Contact Ashley Stewart via email (astewart@businessinsider.com), or send a secure message from a nonwork device via Signal (+1-425-344-8242).
Milan Novak and his wife moved from Florida to Mammoth Spring, Arkansas, a decade ago.
Milan Novak
Milan Novak moved from Florida's Atlantic Coast to rural Arkansas, citing the quiet of small-town life.
Novak's transition to rural life was made difficult by limited job opportunities.
He recently retired and loves the slow pace of life, though he said there's very little to do.
Milan Novak, 67, decided over a decade ago that Florida's Atlantic Coast wasn't right anymore for him. So he decided to move from his city of 24,000 along the beach to a town of just 900 in rural Arkansas.
It took him years to adjust to the pace of life and to live on a limited income due to a lack of jobs in his new home. Still, he's valued the quiet of his community and the simplicity of life in a small town.
"I had no idea what the hell we were going to run into once we moved here," Novak told Business Insider. "We knew nothing of the area."
While many older Americans continue moving to Florida, some have told BI that Florida has lost its feeling of "paradise." Some have cited rising home and insurance prices as motivations for leaving, despite acknowledging they'll never find weather as consistently good. One couple who recently moved to rural Missouri said they moved due to a population influx and political changes, seeking a lower cost of living.
Leaving Florida and settling in Arkansas
Novak was born in New Jersey but moved to Florida at 19. When he first moved, he said his small town had one traffic light and plenty of farmland, though he noticed more strip malls began to open up with worsening traffic.
His father opened a small beer and wine bar, though it didn't pull in enough to support the whole family, so Novak worked at a gas station in town. He ended up working at a car dealership, building his way up to service manager at two Chrysler Dodge stores.
Novak lived in Edgewater, about 20 miles south of Daytona Beach on Florida's east coast. He bought his house in the early 2000s for $181,000. He said the area became more touristy and commercialized, contributing to "ungodly" traffic, and he suspected it would be challenging to make ends meet as his area became more expensive.
"If I had a little more income by retirement age, I may have been able to stick it out, but I doubt it," Novak said.
Eventually, he quit the car business in 2009 — though not after being persuaded back in for another two years — and wanted to shift to something entirely different. He knew he would retire within the next decade, and he wanted to start life anew in a different part of the country, even if it meant not having a job lined up.
His wife wanted to sell his 4,000-square-foot Florida home, as their kids had moved out, and he and his wife wanted to downsize.
They put the house up for sale in 2011, though nobody wanted to buy it. He said they "practically gave it away" in 2012 for $185,000.
They decided to look in the South Central US to be closer to family. They looked into Willow Springs, a rural city in Missouri's Ozark Mountains, though every property they found was between 10 and 20 acres. Realtors also told them the area had a drug problem, though they thought the beauty of the Ozarks would be calming as he approached retirement, especially after decades of working with cars.
Milan Novak bought his small home for $38,000 a decade ago in Mammoth Spring, Arkansas.
Milan Novak
He stumbled upon a home in Mammoth Spring, Arkansas, and within a week, he signed an offer. The about 1,000-square-foot, two-story home was just $38,000 with an acre of land, on which they built a barn and workshop. They moved in six months later.
"We just knew we bought a house three miles down a gravel road in the middle of nowhere," he said. "I knew we didn't have internet, and everything was dial-up at the time."
Adjusting to rural life
He knew moving from coastal Florida would come with colder temperatures. In his first two months, he got a foot of snow, followed by another two feet over the next two months. Eventually, they invested in changing their heating system and installing different doors.
"This house was very poorly insulated, and I went through a full tank of propane in less than a month in December," Novak said. "I was like, oh my god, did I make the right move? This is unbelievable, and at this rate, I can't afford to keep this house."
He bought two four-wheelers for himself and his wife to ride around in, as many roads near him are dirt. One day, he took a ride to a creek and introduced himself to a group of locals. The group already knew him and his wife as "the two people from Florida who have got to be on the witness protection program because nobody moves from Florida to Mammoth Spring."
Milan Novak bought a four-wheeler, which he uses to get around his area.
Milan Novak
Fulton County, where he lives, is a dry county, which he said was an interesting transition, though many who drive by his house carry alcohol.
Without a job set up, Novak said the first few years were difficult, as the only jobs in his area paid minimum wage — which was $6.25 when he first moved. He worked for a few years at local restaurants to afford his living costs.
He worked the night shift at Walmart before going back into the car business as a salesman, which he hated. His neighbor successfully ran for county judge and got him a job as his assistant, though he soon after retired as his back issues worsened. He was able to collect Social Security at 62 while his wife took a job as an administrative assistant for a flooring company, which supplied them with health insurance.
"There is no work around here; it's all rural. If you don't have a farm, you're not eating," Novak said. "We struggled for many years until now, and we're doing good."
Now, in addition to "soaking in the quiet," he does woodworking projects and maintains his property. He said there's always something to fix or tend to, especially with having three dogs and five cats.
It keeps him busy, though he said there's little to do in his area — there isn't even a grocery store, convenience store, or gas station near him. There are a handful of restaurants in the downtown, some of which get foot traffic from tourists visiting the spring. There's a small state park near him with beautiful trails, though he acknowledged it often doesn't compare to the beach.
"In the bank, there's a picture of Main Street back in 1914, and you'd swear you're looking at the same picture now," Novak said.
He has no intention of moving, though he said his property is worth about $150,000 now, more than triple what he bought it for. His goal is just to live peacefully and try to stay healthy and active.
"I can't make any long plans, and I'd be lucky if we're all here tomorrow," Novak said.
Have you recently moved to a new state or left the United States for a new country? Reach out to this reporter at nsheidlower@businessinsider.com.
Filipe, a 30-year-old entrepreneur, makes an average of $2,845 a month participating in online focus groups.
He started his own business teaching others how to make money from focus groups, after quitting his retail job for more flexibility.
Focus groups are consumer studies by big brands who pay well for opinions on their products or services.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Filipe, a 30-year-old who goes by only his first name online and who runs his own business, One Click Hustle. Business Insider has verified his identity and income. The following has been edited for length and clarity.
I first got started with online focus groups back in 2020. A friend posted an Instagram story about how research participants were needed for a study.
I had no idea what it was, but I clicked on the link and filled out the survey.
These days I make between $2,000 and $3,000 each month participating in focus groups. Over the past six months, I've made an average of $2,845 a month. I then created my own business, teaching others how to make money from focus groups.
I wondered why I would be paid to share my opinion
About two days after I filled out that initial survey in 2020, I got a call from a recruiter. She confirmed my answers and told me a little more about what the research study was. It was going to be about social media, and I would be paid $175 for spending 90 minutes on a Zoom call.
It was me, four other participants, and a moderator. The conversation just flew by, and it honestly felt like just a normal chat geared toward social media.
Two weeks later, I got a check in the mail for $175 and I was like, "Okay, so this was legit!" While it didn't necessarily sound like a scam, I wondered how and why I would get paid to do something as fun as sharing my opinion on a specific topic.
I quit my retail job in search of more flexibility
At the time, I was working as a store manager. I had a decent job with benefits and stability, but the work had started to take a toll on my mental health, and I wanted more flexibility and freedom.
I went on a leave of absence and started to search online for ways to make money through side hustles. I got back into doing focus groups and started applying to new studies. I came across a course on YouTube that was very good at teaching me the fundamentals of participating in research studies.
While I also tried other side hustles like e-commerce, DoorDash, and Shipt, they didn't feel as worth it. I noticed that I was consistently bringing in $2,000 to $3,000 a month from focus groups alone, so I eventually transitioned to concentrate solely on doing focus groups.
I made over $2,500 working only 33 hours in a month
In January, I participated in 28 focus groups for a total of 1,195 minutes or around 20 hours. I tend to spend about 35 minutes per day, Monday through Friday, just applying to focus groups. In those 35 minutes, I can usually apply to 10 to 15 focus groups.
In January, I spent 2,000 minutes, or about 33 hours, applying for focus groups and participating in them. Despite working far less than full-time hours, I made $2,568 from these focus groups, or about $77 per hour.
Last month, in March, I participated in 18 focus groups for a total of $2,770 or an average of $154 per focus group.
With focus groups, you can get paid in a variety of ways. I've gotten paid through virtual Visa gift cards, direct deposits, in-person checks, cash, PayPal, checks in the mail, Zelle, and Amazon gift cards.
Some of the many gift cards Filipe has received as compensation.
Filipe
I keep track of it all in a spreadsheet that I created, and that really helps me visualize how much I'm making every single month and make my budget.
Filipe uses a spreadsheet to carefully track where and how much money he's made.
Filipe
How focus groups work
Focus groups are consumer studies by big brands (like Apple, Google, Burger King, Chase, and Facebook) who want to figure out if their ad, service, or product will resonate with the consumer market — and they'll pay big money for your opinion.
They organize one-on-one or group interviews that vary in length. Some might take a full day, while others are 90 minutes. Some of the shortest ones are just 10 or 20 minutes.
It really varies, but the average pay rate is 90 minutes for $150. The benchmark I set to decide whether a focus group is worth participating in is generally at least $50 for 30 minutes to an hour.
There are also specialized research studies that pay even more, which look for people working in specific fields, such as doctors, nurses, and dentists. One of my friends in Texas is a dentist, and he found a focus group that paid $260 for an hour of his time.
Qualifying for a focus group is a numbers game. The more applications you fill out, the more you'll book. It's almost like applying to jobs; it's probably not as competitive as job applications, but the same idea applies — you need to apply to a lot to get into a few.
Some of the applications are really easy to complete and only take a minute or two, while others take five or, at most, 10 minutes to fill out. They ask demographic questions tailored to a specific focus group, as well as which products and services you use.
The actual focus group is a very moderated conversation. Whether you're in a group or a one-on-one call, a moderator asks you questions and makes sure that everyone feels comfortable. They guide the conversations in the way that their client (the big company) wants the conversations to go.
In my experience, the first 30 minutes are questions that help them understand who you are and what you like to do. Then, they start to guide the conversation over to the main topic. Sometimes, they show you ads or ad concepts and ask you a lot of questions about them. It's standard to sign an NDA because you'll be seeing ads for products or services that haven't been released yet.
One of the coolest focus groups I've done was a four-part study on food. While I can't say specifics, the first three parts were questions about food, and the fourth and final part involved a trip to Chicago that was entirely paid for by the company.
I'm a huge foodie, and I love Chicago; it's one of my favorite cities, especially in terms of food. The focus group in Chicago was a four-hour in-person group with other study participants. It was a lot of fun and one of the best experiences.
Filipe walking to his hotel in Chicago's River North neighborhood.
Filipe
If you're consistent, you could make several hundred dollars a month
When I first started, I was spending a lot of time searching for good focus groups. There are a lot of websites that offer low-paying surveys, so those are very common to find, but actual focus groups that pay more are much harder to find. It took a lot of searching throughout a long period of time to find these studies.
The best free ways to find focus groups are by searching "focus groups near me" or "taste tests near me" on Google, Craigslist, and social media. It's important to beware of potential scams, though. Avoid applying to surveys found on those sites if they don't share the incentive amount or if the amount is oddly high, like $750 for an hour.
My biggest tips for people who want to get started on focus groups
Apply to 10-15 surveys per day and stay consistent! It's a numbers game, and so the more surveys you fill out, the more you're going to book.
Don't get discouraged if you fill out a bunch of applications and don't hear back. You will not book every single group. Each focus group has a specific criteria and quota to fill, and it can take weeks to get a response. Just keep at it; they're going to come.
Stay organized. Once you start getting booked, keep track of the dates of the studies in a spreadsheet so you don't miss them, and note when the payment is meant to come in. I actually caught a few instances where companies forgot to pay me for studies I had completed several months prior. They were reputable companies with a huge volume of focus groups, so things probably slipped through the cracks. Each time, I reached out to the company, and they promptly paid me what I was owed.
If you stay consistent and put in an hour a day just to apply and participate in focus groups, you could walk away with a few hundred dollars at the end of the month. I know people who do this part-time while working full-time jobs, and they're making $1,000 to $2,000 consistently, month after month.
If you have an interesting side hustle and would like to share your story, email Jane Zhang at janezhang@businessinsider.com.
Former investment banking analyst Christine Ji says her six-figure salary boiled down to a $25-an-hour adjusted rate when she considered the long work hours.
Christine Ji/Kenneth Tan, Alexander Spatari/Getty Images, Abanti Chowdhury/BI
I was expecting that Thursday in February to be a normal day at work. I hadn't expected to be lying on the office floor thinking that I needed to quit my investment banking job — yet there I was.
Minutes after fainting, in the ambulance en route to the hospital, I contemplated the choices that had led me to that moment.
The allure of an investment banking job is seductive. It attracts starry-eyed college students with irresistible promises: An opportunity to execute multibillion-dollar transactions for the world's largest corporations. A six-figure salary. Access to boardrooms and C-suite executives. A stepping stone to even more lucrative private equity careers.
And the path to breaking into the industry, arguably more difficult than getting into an Ivy League, reflects this reputation.
Unfortunately, I wasn't immune to the job's calling. I was determined to land an esteemed summer internship, so I clocked over 100 hours of interview prep, scheduled over 50 networking calls, and interviewed at four banks during my sophomore year of college. The hard work culminated in an investment banking internship during my junior year.
Charmed by the prestige, pay, happy hours, coffee chats, and corporate outings of the internship, I enthusiastically signed my full-time job offer in the fall of 2022 as a college senior. My life was perfect. I was ready to make lots of money on Wall Street and generate lots of shareholder value.
Being an investment banking analyst was much sexier in theory than practice
I knew banking would be intense from the internship, but nothing could've prepared me for just how intense the full-time role was. First-year analysts, like myself, spent every waking hour doing anything and everything senior bankers demanded from us.
Advising on mergers and acquisitions looked a lot like creating endless financial analyses in Excel, aligning logos on PowerPoint, responding to emails around the clock, and calling restaurants about the pricing of hors d'oeuvres platters to plan dinner conferences. On a good day, I logged off at midnight. On a bad day, I didn't go to bed.
As for the six-figure salary, $110,000 seemed like a lot, but it boiled down to a $25-an-hour adjusted rate when I considered the long hours.
On one hand, there was light at the end of the tunnel: Analysts who perform well generally climb the ranks within the team to become associates, vice presidents, and maybe even managing directors. Still, I felt utterly disposable as I witnessed hardworking analysts and associates lose their jobs over multiple rounds of layoffs.
Many months of this lifestyle finally came to a climax when I passed out on that fateful Thursday morning
My whole life revolved around work. I was sleep-deprived, anxious, and extremely unhappy. The week that I fainted had been particularly grueling, consisting of several late nights and all-nighters as my team scrambled to close a deal.
My usual strategy of gritting my teeth and caffeinating myself was no match for the eight months of overwork I had put my body through. Mid-conversation with a coworker, I saw black spots dancing in my field of vision. Suddenly, I was on the floor. I was hyperventilating. Tears were streaming out of my eyes. I tried to get up and saw black. I couldn't feel my hands or feet. One of my coworkers called an ambulance.
I was whisked away to the emergency room, where I spent the rest of the day lying on the hard hospital bed with a splitting headache and terrible nausea.
Eight hours and multiple CT scans, IV drips, blood tests, and urine samples later, the doctors came to the conclusion that nothing was wrong and that I should go home and rest up.
When I went home from the hospital, I realized I had three missed calls on my work phone. A college sophomore had scheduled a networking call with me for that afternoon, and I had forgotten about it. "Sorry for missing your call earlier," I emailed him. "I was in the hospital all day. Feel free to reach out to another member of my team."
I saw my younger self in his eagerness and wondered if he knew what he was getting himself into. I felt nauseous again.
The reaction of other investment bankers illuminated another dimension of the industry's work culture
After the incident, colleagues reassured me that I shouldn't panic. I was going to be just fine. I was told that I wasn't the first person on the team this had happened to. Perhaps anti-anxiety medication could help my situation?
I was also told that there had been a team meeting while I was at the hospital to discuss the situation, but I was not informed about what was discussed at the meeting or of any initiative to address what I felt was the root cause of what had happened to me.
I certainly didn't feel fine. Although the bank informed me I could take as much time off as needed, I felt, culturally, I was expected to be back in the office sooner rather than later. I took a week off to recuperate, attempting to make up for months of sleep debt.
Returning to work, it became clear to me that people had accepted moments like these as an inescapable byproduct of the job. Tasks and emails began to build up again, and I felt I was expected to rest and be ready for another 90-hour workweek.
This incident was an unmistakable sign for me to leave banking
I was terrified to leave. There's very little advice out there on how to quit your investment banking job. On the contrary, there's plenty of advice on the exact opposite — how to scrape through the misery of an analyst stint. It would be silly to quit before getting my first bonus or lining up another job, seemed to be the consensus opinion.
I wondered if I was making a stupid decision. What did I know about navigating a career at 22 years old?
But I came to the realization that I didn't want to evaluate my career choices with the same measuring stick that seemed to normalize overwork to the point of collapse. As analysts, I felt we were putting our mental and physical health at risk for a job that treated us as PowerPoint slide-creating robots. And when we burned out, there'd always be a fresh crop of enthusiastic college graduates desperate for our spots.
I knew myself and knew that this industry was not the right fit for me. I had no concrete plans for what I was going to do next, but I knew I had no interest in continuing to overwork myself in pursuit of prestige or another opportunity with the same nonexistent work-life balance.
My last day was in March, exactly a month from the day I fainted. After quitting, I decided to pursue journalism, something I was always interested in but had no time to explore as a banker.
I wasn't the first to quit banking, and I certainly won't be the last
Sure, entry-level transaction experience and Excel skills look fantastic on a résumé. But those skills come at a steep price.
Perhaps some people are so passionate about this profession that they're willing to sacrifice their free time, social life, family time, and health at the altar of investment banking. I can't say I loved investment banking to that degree, so I walked away.
Editor's note: The financial institution where Ji worked, which was verified by Business Insider, said:
"We recognize that our industry is demanding, and we have initiatives in place to ensure that our junior staff are protected, including mandated time off and staffing /workload policies. We expect both managers and employees to understand and adhere to these policies, and we take any violations seriously. We also have several channels in place to ensure that our employees can speak up to raise concerns. As it relates to this specific situation, we are disappointed that our colleague has chosen to leave the bank, and we wish her all the best in her future endeavors."
Gene Caballero is one of the cofounders of GreenPal.
Gene Caballero
Gene Caballero left his stable job at Dell to cofound GreenPal, an on-demand lawn care service.
He had to make financial sacrifices in the beginning, but now he earns more and travels often.
He's happy as an entrepreneur and will never return to 9-5 life despite the challenges.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Gene Caballero, a 44-year-old cofounder of GreenPal, based in Nashville. It's been edited for length and clarity.
I'm a cofounder of GreenPal, a platform that connects homeowners with lawn care professionals.
After purchasing my first home, finding reliable lawn care for myself and my mom was a daunting task. Working in tech on the West Coast and watching companies like Uber, Lyft, and Airbnb get started opened my eyes to one of my cofounders Bryan Clayton's initial idea of on-demand lawn care.
Before working full-time at GreenPal, I spent nine years at Dell, where I first held a sales role. Five years in, I transitioned into a management role, where I stayed until 2017. I learned invaluable lessons in leadership, strategic planning, and team management, all of which have been crucial in steering GreenPal toward success.
I left my stable job at Dell to find a more meaningful career
I had a six-figure salary and was comfortable at Dell, but launching GreenPal was fueled by a quest for greater purpose. I was driven by the urge to solve a common problem. This venture into entrepreneurship was not just a career change but a commitment to innovating how lawn care services are accessed.
Financing GreenPal's inception demanded significant personal sacrifices. Because of my belief in GreenPal, I sold my house and cashed out my 401(k). To make this work, I moved home with my mom for a year, which was humbling, but I knew it was the right choice. I then got a small apartment with Bryan.
A key part of our early strategy was going door-to-door to gather feedback from homeowners. This direct engagement was crucial in validating the demand for a service like GreenPal and refining our concept based on real user insights. It gave me the confidence to go all in.
We're now making over $40 million in revenue
Since our founding, we've hired 20 employees. The financial health of the company affords me personal freedoms that were once unimaginable — especially in the corporate world.
My compensation of $400,000 annually supports my lifestyle of travel and exploration. In 2023, I visited 15 countries, and I've already planned five international trips, including summiting Kilimanjaro in September, for this year.
I work every day, but I've streamlined my responsibilities so I never exceed 20 hours a week. Every morning, I look at the number of transactions and revenue we booked the previous day. I then tackle emails, prioritizing our customer care app to promptly address all inquiries and issues. I'm usually done working by noon, if not earlier.
My entrepreneurial journey was both exhilarating and challenging
One of our most impactful mistakes was hiring an external firm to develop our website and apps. Entrusting this critical component to an outside company for a six-figure fee, we expected a seamless launch and a robust platform. The firm failed to deliver a product that met our specifications and went out of business shortly after. This left us without a functional website and with no recourse to recover our investment.
The setback delayed our market entry and forced us to reconsider our strategy. This experience taught us a crucial lesson about the importance of having technical expertise within our founding team. My other cofounder, Zach Hendrix, went to Nashville Software School and learned how to build the current website and apps we use today.
I absolutely do not miss my 9-5 at all
One piece of advice I'd share with other entrepreneurs is to brace yourself for a ride that can be lonely and seemingly without reward for a long stretch. Success in entrepreneurship often comes after enduring periods of uncertainty and solitude. Stay resilient and keep pushing forward, even when the immediate outcomes aren't visible.
I consider myself an entrepreneur, but I will never start another company. If you do it right once, you don't need to do it again.