This was never about gear. It was about instinct, timing, and truth.

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It started with a question I couldn’t shake:

Would this idea actually work in the wild?

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Not in theory. Not in pitch decks. But in the real, chaotic, high-pressure world of NAMM—the loudest, busiest, most overstimulated trade show on Earth.

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I was booked to keynote on networking. The official topic was about building trust and navigating relationships in professional audio. But really? I was there to test a much deeper signal:

Could I build something that mattered? Could I tell a story the industry didn’t know it needed?

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So I pulled the most Vegas move I had in me:
The night before, I found a valet. I asked if he'd be working the show tomorow. And then said I'd be back.

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Next morning, I got there early. Before the chaos exploded. When everyone was still scrambling. I walked back up and handed him a $100 bill and a smile that said: “Let’s do this.”

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My guy's about to pull in and I need to drop off gear and make this happen guerllia style. Just then, my DP drove right into the heart of NAMM and parked front row, center. He got out of the car and said "Wow. That was easier than Ithought! Today's going to be a great day."

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We filmed our very first segment before anyone knew what was happening.
The drummer from Blue Man Group was there—and his story was so good, so captivating, that mid-filming Woz leans in and says,
“Man, you’ve got a wild life.”

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My guy looks at Woz—yes, Steve Wozniak—and says,
“Yeah man, I’ve got a great life. What about you?”

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He didn’t even know who he was talking to.
And that’s what I loved most about it.
Because this wasn’t about celebrity.
This was about truth.

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