Childhood, growing up amid divorce, and aquatic adventures.
AMENDMENT—I thought this would be one newsletter, but my writing took on a life of its own. I have no idea how many parts this series will consist of, but here's the first.
"I've followed you for years but had no idea you did professional media and software until now."
If I had one dollar for every time I've heard that, I wouldn't need to raise more investment from the industry.
Over the past five years, I've developed a decent storytelling ability. But there's one story I consistently suck at—our story.
So here I am, on a Sunday morning, still defrosting from a week in Northern Alberta, taking a few hours to tell the BuildWitt story.
Childhood
I couldn't have had it better as a kid. I was born in Phoenix, Arizona, and settled in Paradise Valley after a stint in a shithole known as Scottsdale.
My father was a tax lawyer. He spent a few decades educating and practicing himself into one of the nation's foremost experts on real estate taxation and bankruptcy law. He always had something to do, no matter the economic cycle.
After his first marriage, he remarried to my mother at 40. Because of his age, my dad was reaching the upper echelon of his career when I was a child. He was a National Director at Deloitte, the global accounting and consulting behemoth. Most of his weeks were on the East Coast, meeting with government officials in DC or monster corporations in NYC.
Thanks in part to his highly educated nature and financial success, he and my mother wanted the best school for me. After passing a test (no joke), they enrolled me in Phoenix Country Day School (PCDS) in Kindergarten.
Kindergarten was my only experience with the "Dirt World." My dad was working with Empire Caterpillar and arranged my sixth birthday party at the dealer. To say it was cool is a dramatic understatement. It was so damn formative that I still vividly remember it today. Most kids had bouncy castles in the backyard. Me? I had mining trucks. Checkmate.
But for my Dirt World experiences, that was it. Growing up, I never interacted with blue-collar people and didn't step onto a construction site until I was seventeen. We didn't look down upon blue-collar people, but they were so far from our world that a blue-collar career wasn't a thought.
It wasn't, however, my only interaction with dirt. Every house we had featured a digging area, where I was free to do as I pleased with a shovel in hand. I took full advantage of the freedom.
While I didn't gain an understanding of the real world in my nine years at PCDS (apparently, having three houses isn't normal?), I did have the best education in business and success. Every one of my friend's parents was a big deal. One was a Fortune 500 CEO. The next was President of the largest car dealer network in the world. Another built and exited handfuls of highly accomplished businesses.
My father and a few others who were surgeons were the "average" dads.
My business and success education wasn't in the details or numbers… It was in the lifestyle and habits.
What time did they wake up? How did they talk to others? Who did they talk to? What did they eat? Did they drink? How did they spend their money? How did they view money? What did they teach their kids?
I soaked it all up and only realized its value when I became an adult.
Teenage Years
As a child, I don't have a lot of unpleasant memories. Maybe I haven't dug deep enough, but life was pretty damn comfortable, and my parents were more than loving.
My parents divorced when I was twelve. I'm grateful for the timing… While I wasn't unscathed, I was past my most formative years. I had a solid foundation, which is why I believe I could cope with the trauma throughout my teenage years.
The year or two surrounding the divorce itself was more strange than traumatizing. I was young enough to be naive, and I remember my parents being somewhat civil with us children.
The post-divorce years, from 13-18, were the shitty ones.
My mother re-entered the workforce as a paralegal and did a great job by day. But some evenings were a different story due to alcoholism (she's recovered now—a massive achievement).
I didn't understand alcoholism until my father was gone. It's no joke (I've never drunk frequently out of fear). Most of the time, the waters were calm, but occasionally storms brewed…
My father was always "there," but he wasn't. I was the oldest, so I bore the brunt of the household dysfunction when he left. He checked out of the situation and still hasn't spoken to my mother. I unknowingly resented him for many years because of it.
Resentment toward both parents for entirely different reasons… How healthy!
Enough of the sob story… Let's look at the bright side.
The divorce was a great thing despite the uncertainty. My mom's house became where I could create and explore different hobbies—digging holes, building potato guns, and, most importantly, creating miniature tropical ecosystems in my bedroom, otherwise known as aquariums.
My mom was a trooper. She drove me all over Phoenix to buy rocks, equipment, and corals from strangers. Looking back, I have no idea why she was so cool. Even the fact that I had the aquarium in my bedroom was insane. I consumed half of the household power, spilled water on the floor weekly, and created humidity that rivaled Florida in August.
To my father's credit, he hit the brakes instead of putting his foot down on his career post-divorce, which would've been the comfortable thing. With everything he worked toward within his grasp, he spiked it and retired to be more present.
Sure, it was chaotic, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
My Career Beginnings
I was at my friend Colton's house during my first year of high school, explaining my ambitions to convert my freshwater aquarium to saltwater to him and his father. My one issue? It's a costly endeavor, especially for a kid with no legitimate income-earning potential.
Later that day, his father, Mr. Siddle, called. When he calls, you answer, so I did. He offered me a deal that changed my life—he'd loan me the $200 I needed for my aquarium in exchange for twenty hours of work on his Montana property plus three hours of interest (15%). He was a businessman, and there was no free lunch.
Of course I took the money. What kid wouldn't?
Arriving in Red Lodge, Montana, was familiar. That's because I'd spent time nearly every summer of my life since kindergarten there. But this was different... Until now, it was for fun. This was work.
There I was for six weeks—mowing lawns, whacking acres of weeds, and cutting trees down. My first time working hard. I was alone with my thoughts, with no music or podcasts.
The work was valuable, but the evenings were equally so. Most weeks, Mr. Siddle would have someone successful visiting. It was a beautiful property, and he'd invite them to stay in the guest cabin.
After dinner, they'd talk. One was a renowned architect. The next a retired heart surgeon… Investment bankers, businessmen, etc.
I'd never speak; I'd only listen. I didn't know what they were saying most of the time, but I found it fascinating.
I remember after hours of discussion about healthcare, money, and mortality, the heart surgeon turned to me and said, "I'm extremely impressed by you."
I looked over my shoulder, thinking he was talking to someone else. I asked why he felt so because I hadn't said anything.
He said while most other kids would've left the conversation to play video games or do other kid things, I sat there and listened the entire time. I had no idea how valuable listening to those conversations was at the time, but thank god I wasn't like the other kids.
High School
High school sucked. I'm naturally socially awkward and arrived at Arcadia High School (a public school) fresh out of a life of private school pampering.
For whatever reason, my parents let me choose my high school. Something told me I needed to experience more of the real world. Arcadia was as "real" as Epstein's suicide, but it was more of a jungle than PCDS.
I started freshman year off by failing math and Spanish. No bueno. But following the much-needed ass-kicking I received in Montana, my educational and career ambitions perked up.
When I turned sixteen, I applied for a job at the local aquarium store. They hired me, and I worked 25 hours a week there over my final two high school years. My parents didn't make me take the job—I wanted it.
The work itself was miserable, but I loved it. Building off the work ethic I'd begun to craft in Montana, I kept my head down. I learned everything there was to know about aquariums and spent every dollar I earned at the same store buying new fish, corals, and equipment. That may be why they gave me the job?
By senior year, I'd cleaned up my act. I started figuring out who I was and made friends. I cleaned up my grades, volunteered, and began critically considering my future and career beyond high school.
Reflecting upon it, I never received career guidance in high school. The system hangs you out to dry. If I didn't have the resources I did outside of school, I'd likely be working a miserable job in banking during the week and drinking all weekend.
In the fall, a construction project in my neighborhood appeared.
And that's where I will conclude part one…
Dirt Talk Podcast
Randy Blount and I discussed the industry’s workforce challenge at length the other day. While I rarely have anything important to say, Randy knows what he’s talking about. You can listen at the link below!
Vlog
Want a (un)professional behind-the-scenes tour of Zeppelin Cat’s booth at BAUMA Germany 2022? Look no further than the link below!
Day 3 of Bauma 2022 found us at the Liebherr Booth! (aka the biggest booth of the event)
We spoke to plenty of people who love talking about heavy machinery; definitely a booth I'll never forget. Hope you enjoy it as much as we did! #construction #heavyequipment #heavymachinery
Equipment Seen: Liebherr: R 950 Tunnel Excavator, Liebherr R992 Excavator, Liebherr R936 Excavator, Liebherr PR 766 Crawler Dozer, Liebherr Rail Excavator, Liebherr 980 Demolition Excavator, Liebherr R 9300 Mining Excavator, T 274 Mining Truck
I’ll see you next week!
