From Zero to… Well, Hopefully Something That Doesn't Involve Molten Glass and Massive Debt (Part 1)

Right then, let's get one thing straight right off the bat: I am no tech messiah. I'm more like a tech… enthusiastic toddler. I've spent the last few years flitting between bright shiny objects like a caffeinated hummingbird – futures trading (spoiler alert: I'm better at drinking coffee than trading futures), the wild west of crypto and blockchain (where I mostly learned what "rekt" means), and now, the siren call of coding.
My last serious tech tinkering involved rewiring stereos in my youth to properly blast the Grateful Dead. So yeah, it’s been a hot minute. I’m your classic Midwest entrepreneur, folks – I’ve crashed more businesses than a demolition derby driver, and rebuilt them almost as many times. Let's just say I'm not exactly a spring chicken anymore. I'm in that "vintage" category, teetering dangerously close to "antique," and the fear of being washed up is a surprisingly effective motivator.
For years, I've watched those coding wizards with a mixture of awe and suspicion. Creating websites and apps out of thin air? It seemed like modern-day sorcery. But beyond the fascination, I see a genuine path here. My grand (and slightly terrifying) plan is to wrestle this coding beast into submission and build a sustainable online income. You know, the kind that allows for things like not panicking when the washing machine breaks. A fella can dream, right?
But I'm not delusional. I know the road from absolute zero to coding ninja is paved with more plot twists than a soap opera. Right now, my goal is just to reach "something." That "something" might be the world's ugliest functioning website (I'm picturing Comic Sans as the default font), or maybe a script that finally automates the soul-crushing task of sorting my socks. Eventually, the dream is a project that people actually like, maybe even use, and if the stars align, throws a little cash my way.
This blog? This is my public flogging… I mean, commitment. It’s my way of dragging myself kicking and screaming (probably mostly screaming) through this process. You’ll see the tiny victories celebrated like I just won the lottery. But you’ll also be front and center for the epic fails, the error messages that look like ancient alien languages, the concepts that take approximately 72 hours and several existential crises to grasp, and those oh-so-tempting moments when I consider just going back to delivering for Amazon.
Speaking of building things from scratch, you might find this amusing. Before my foray into the glamorous world of almost-tech, I spent a wild 18 years as a professional glassblower. Yep, the kind with the molten goo and the potential for spectacular burns. I didn't exactly start in a fancy studio, mind you. My humble beginnings were in a tiny shack in Trinidad. Think "rustic" meets "highly flammable."
But hey, you gotta start somewhere, right? And from that shack, fueled by sheer stubbornness and maybe a few too many Red Stripes, I somehow ended up running a 3,000 square foot warehouse. I even taught classes for the local Junior College! I had seven in-house apprentices who eventually became subcontractors for a manufacturing company we built from the ground up literally . It was a wild ride, transforming blobs of hot glass into things people actually wanted to buy (pipes mainly). Pretty cool, huh?
Well, the universe has a funny way of keeping you humble. Right after we poured our hearts and souls (and a significant chunk of cash) into a massive trade show, BAM! Everyone decided to make like a glass figurine in a hurricane and abruptly left. Guess who was left holding the bag? Yours truly, drowning in debt like a poorly made glass boat. Ah, the joys of entrepreneurship! Consider that my first (but certainly not last) lesson in the school of hard knocks. It stung, but you know what? It also forged a certain… let’s call it "relentless optimism" in the face of impending doom.
Did I learn my lesson? Sort of. Being the glutton for punishment that I am, I teamed up with a couple of buddies and we rebuilt the glassblowing gig. We were even selling our glass tubes for a cool grand apiece! Fancy, right? Turns out, even with a high-end product, the whole "piece work" thing just wasn't a sustainable long-term model for me. Another valuable (and slightly painful) lesson learned. It molded my understanding that having a great "thing" isn't the same as having a great business.
So, here I am. Day one of this new adventure. No idea what "something" will ultimately look like, but honestly? I'm both terrified and ridiculously excited to find out. Thanks for joining me for this first shaky step. I promise, the stories of how I got here (and why this is so darn important to me) are just getting started. Stay tuned, it's bound to get interesting… and probably a little bit messy.