Reinvention

After 42 years in the millwork industry, I retired.

Forty-two years.

I figured I was done with business.

No more sales meetings. No more budgets. No more customers. No more worrying about money coming in and money going out.

Then I started the Truth Party.

And somewhere along the way I realized:

Holy shit. I started another business.

I’ve got money coming in.

I’ve got money going out.

I’ve got merchandise to sell.

I’ve got a website.

I write blogs.

I produce videos.

I make music.

I do interviews.

I do marketing.

I raise money.

Apparently I’m the founder, CEO, creative director, salesman, cameraman, copywriter, shipping department—and when something goes wrong, I know exactly who to fire.

Me.

The funny thing is, those 42 years prepared me perfectly for this.

Because after four decades in business, you learn what works.

But more importantly, you learn about 10,000 things not to fucking do.

Don’t waste money.

Don’t bullshit your customer.

Don’t create something nobody wants.

Listen to people.

Change direction when you’re wrong.

And never fall so deeply in love with your own idea that you stop paying attention to reality.

That’s what I’m doing now.

Except instead of selling doors and millwork, I’m selling an idea:

Get involved. Talk to people. Become a citizen again.

And I’m doing it as a one-man band.

Some days I don’t know whether I’m running a political movement, a media company, a merchandise business, a documentary studio—or a traveling circus.

And you know what?

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m 69 years old.

I’m supposed to be retired.

Instead, I’m building something from scratch again.

And I’m having a fucking blast.

Turns out retirement wasn’t the end of my career.

It was just the first day of my next startup.