"His problem was English," says his father, Eduard Frind.
"If you don't have English, you can't do anything." Frind eventually adjusted, but his was a lonely childhood. When his parents want to see him, they make the 14-hour drive southward.
Frind, 30, doesn't seem like the sort of fellow who would run a market-leading anything.
"We're trying to convince Max that we're interesting," she says sweetly.
Another memorable valentine involved the secret consumption of a massive quantity of hot peppers.
Though his mouth was on fire, Frind calmly planted a kiss on Kanciar's lips and feigned ignorance as she went scrambling for water.
That's not easy for Frind, who seems most comfortable with the world at arm's length. "And he doesn't like conflict." Frind prefers to remain a silent observer of others, who then constructs arguments and counterarguments about their motivations.
He seems perpetually lost in thought, constantly thinking about and studying the world around him.