It’s the early 2000s.
I’m standing in the control room at the radio station KTKK AM 630, a few blocks from my house.
Van Halen blares through the studio speakers, mixed with quotes from The Matrix in the intro.
My palms are sweating. My heart’s racing. My mouth’s dry.
I’m filling in on my partner’s radio show for the first time, and it feels electric.
The blinking lights on the switchboard. The red “ON AIR” sign. The idea that people—real people—are listening right now.
Raised stakes create adrenaline, and adrenaline is part of what makes me love life.
That first broadcast was a thrill. The kind of thrill that makes you feel alive.
Over time, though, what started as two hours a day, five days a week, began to feel like five.
The excitement faded. The routine took over.
The joy started to leak out of the work.
Until we decided to raise the stakes again.
We started doing debates. It got my heart pumping.
We began live-streaming before anyone really knew what streaming was, watching the numbers spike in real time. We were growing an audience, and it felt good.
Then came the call.
Five days a week, two hours a day, syndicated on 43 stations. Syndication, baby.
Except there was a catch.
It wouldn’t be 9-11 a.m. anymore. It would be 5-7 p.m.
Ouch.
My wife, Carrie, was pregnant with our second son.
When I told her about the opportunity, she listened carefully and said, “You told them no, right?”
I said, “But babe, babe… 43 stations! This is the start of something big.”
She looked at me, calm and clear, and said, “A baby’s coming. These are memories you’ll never get back.”
She went for a walk around the block and told me to think about it.
When she came back, I agreed with her sentiment and said no.
Family first. I already missed too much with our first son after my partners’ deaths. That plane crash in 2006 created a disconnect that took years to address and we were just getting back on track.
As she walked, I figured even if I promised to take mornings off, I’m a morning person. And the best parts of family life happen around dinner, bath time, bedtime.
She was right. Kinda hate when she is right. Thank God she spoke up.
One of the great lies entrepreneurs say is “I’m doing this for you.”
But the reality is we are trying to fill some void with wealth, success, and riches…and she didn’t ask for all of this.
I turned down syndication—and, in a way, walked away from radio altogether.
It was the dawn of the podcast era, but I wasn’t sold on the format. Oops.
I tried starting a podcast later, built some momentum, got subscribers… and got bored again.
Why? Because I was following someone else’s format, someone else’s idea.
It wasn’t me.
Interviewing people—that I would interrupt. Following in a formula for followers that was boring.
I took a break; I abandoned my channel. And I took a detour into comedy—just to have fun, to feel expressed, to be myself again.
Comedy feels like love. It reminds me of my childhood hearing my uncles tell jokes, my dad’s dry sense of humor, my mom’s infectious laugh. Family parties. Great memories.
Reigniting the Creative Flame
Comedy woke me up.
It reminded me that creation is supposed to be joyful.
That business can be playful.
That laughter can heal more than spreadsheets ever could.
It also taught me something priceless: that there’s a process to going pro.
When I was preparing for my Amazon Prime special, I went all in.
I watched a comedy special—or Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee—every single day. I studied my own sets, hired a team, rehearsed daily, wrote daily, and carved out the time, no matter what.
That’s the difference between dabbling and going pro.
When you go pro, you don’t wait for inspiration. You build habits that produce it.
You don’t chase motivation—you create momentum.
That’s the same philosophy I’m bringing to podcasts and media now. I’m calling my shot. I am here to serve and reach people in a way that is congruent with my best life, the life I love. And I love making an impact.
No more villainizing YouTube or Instagram.
They’re just platforms.
The question is: What are you putting on them?
This time, I’m creating in my own way.
The way I enjoy.
With purpose, passion, and fun.
Where Are You Ready to Go Pro?
So, where in your life do you need to go pro?
Did you have a false start like I did—trying to model someone else’s idea, only to burn out because it wasn’t yours?
How can you avoid that next time?
Start by designing your own game.
Delegate roles, not just tasks.
Create time in your calendar for what matters most.
Let go to grow—if you take on something new, release something old.
Pay so you’ll pay attention—invest in the process.
And most importantly, declare what you’re doing.
Call your shot.
The Success Formula
So, how do you go pro—without burning out or selling out?
By using what I call the Success Formula:
Write down the area(s) you do best in. What do they have in common? Do you have time in your calendar for them? Do you have a team that supports you? Do you invest money in them?
Whatever it may be, that is the clue for you taking other areas to higher levels. You have your own formula, the things that have brought you the most results. What are they?
Here is mine:
- Hard-easy… do it now.
Do the hard things first so life gets easier later. - Hire a mentor.
Guidance shortens the learning curve. - Buy books and audios.
Invest in your knowledge before you invest your money. - Declare your vision.
Call your shot. Speak it out loud. - Schedule rhythms and habits ahead of time.
Don’t leave progress to chance. It lives in the calendar. - Enroll others.
Bring people along for the ride. - Teach what you learn.
Mastery grows through sharing. - Create traditions that are enjoyable.
Celebrate the process, not just the prize. - Care more about results than how you look.
Perfection is paralysis. Done is divine.
When I apply this formula, I’m not chasing results—I’m creating them.
Find your formula, create your vision, and grow your life (and wealth).
Create the Game You Want to Play
Here’s what I’ve learned:
Create the game you want to play, and you’ve already won.
Find the win in the work.
Find the joy in the process.
Have others support you along the way.
Call your shot—and have a vision so compelling that others want to bring their time, talent, and ability to help you make it real.
When I filmed my comedy special, friends and colleagues showed up for rehearsals.
They volunteered for the night of the taping.
They believed in the dream of getting it on a streaming service, because it wasn’t just my dream anymore—it was ours. You don’t have to do this alone.
That’s the power of vision.
It attracts people.
It multiplies energy.
So, what’s your dream?
Where can you raise the stakes?
Where can you do what you love?
Where is it time to get past resistance and finally go pro?
When your vision is greater than your problem, you’ll win.
And when you love it, you’ve already won.
Going Pro Is a Way of Being
Going pro isn’t just about getting paid—it’s about being all in.
It’s about taking what you love and treating it like it matters.
It’s about raising the stakes high enough that your heart beats again.
When you create the game you want to play, you’ve already won.
When you find the win in the work, the joy in the process, and surround yourself with people who believe in the vision—
that’s not just success.
That’s wealth.
Your Turn
So, call your shot.
Raise your standards.
Build your rhythm.
And go pro in whatever lights you up.
Because when your vision is greater than your problem, you win.
And when you love it—you’ve already won.
