Chapter 1

“Don’t Chase the Wrong Waves”

“Dude, why did you go for that wave? I have bigger waves in my bathtub. Next time, wait for the sets to come in.”

-As told to Tony Galliano by Chris Pontius from MTV’s ‘Jackass’

Much of this section was inspired by my pastime as a foolish surfer wanna be. More about that later…

Naples, Florida has to be one of the most beautiful places I have ever lived. Perhaps second only to its neighbor, Marco Island, Florida… the most peaceful place I have ever lived.

If you have ever been to these places, you might think that money actually does grow on trees. Palm trees. There is so much wealth there; it’s enough to make you puke green with envy. But stick with me through this book and you won’t need to be jealous of anybody. They’ll be jealous of you.

When I first moved to Naples, I actually thought that Bentley must have started a line of cheapo cars. Why? How else could one out of every 20 cars on the road be a Bentley? I went to the dealership and checked it out. Sorry folks, they still cost $300,000.00.

Anyway, when I first moved to Naples, I just rented a small villa in a nice gated community called Pelican Marsh, right across from the Ritz Carlton. I was doing a lot of work commuting between Florida and Chicago, so the family stayed in Chicago.

I ended up spending more time in Florida than in Chicago with my family, so I eventually brought the gang down with me. The villa was too small, so we started house hunting. Sometimes life can be like a game of Dominoes.

I never REALLY paid much attention to the Naples area until I committed to moving there. Then I made a startling discovery…

There’s A Whole Different Planet Out There That Has Yet To Be Fully Discovered-

But put away your telescope - you won’t find this one in outer space …

It’s called planet “Disgustingly Rich” and it’s inhabited by people who collect million dollar homes for a hobby, like the little plastic ones in Monopoly, and buy a new 50-foot yacht every other year. I mean, who wants last year’s yacht, right? (Maybe those tone-deaf auto executives who flew to D.C. in their luxury jets to ask Congress for a bail out!)

Listen, everything we believe about money right now is nothing more than what we have been programmed to believe. Let the un-programming begin right here.

“Money will buy you a pretty good dog, but it won’t buy the wag of his tail.”

~Henry Wheeler Shaw

My house hunting adventure led me to meet a man named Pely. Pely was a young immigrant, no older than twenty-five.

One day, a friend told me that this Pely guy might have some property on Marco Island I’d be interested in.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: Dave told me to call you to see if your property is still available.

Pely: Which one?

Me: The one on Marco Island.

Pely: Which one?

Me: Dave said you had one on the water …on a canal with a yacht lift and a pool.

Pely: Which one?

Me: He said you currently have it listed for $1.5M.

Pely: Well, I have two houses that fit that description. Why don’t I give you directions? They are both already fully furnished and move-in ready.

Me: So, when should I meet you?

Pely: I’m kinda busy today …you can just let yourself in. I never keep my houses locked. I mean, if someone needs the furniture that bad, they can have it.

I really liked both homes, but decided on the one with the bigger pool. It turned out Pely owned over a dozen million dollar homes in Naples, Miami, and Cancun. Pely told me that he decided to move his family from Miami to Marco Island for a better quality of life. He started doing some remodeling to the house I’d decided I didn’t want.

I watched the renovation progress on a regular basis, as I used to pass by his house on my morning jogs around the island.

One day, the house was gone. Completely demolished! I called Pely to ask what happened, thinking it may have burned down. Pely told me that he got frustrated with parts of the remodeling project, so he decided it would just be easier to demolish the house (mid project mind you) and start from scratch.

I should note that Pely wasn’t even a real estate investor. Real estate was more of a hobby for him.

Guys like Pely aren’t even “Rich” by Naples standards. In fact, 400 of the Fortune 500 CEO’s have homes in Naples. Talk about money.

I quickly learned that I was definitely an “outsider” in Marco Island for two reasons:

1. I was the only guy in the neighborhood who went to work in the morning.

2. I was the only guy who did not have a 50-foot yacht parked in the canal behind the house.

I felt “equalized” after Hurricane Katrina swept across the island on its way to New Orleans and capsized my neighbor’s yacht. Their weeping echoed across the canal as their yacht was dragged away in pieces. You’d think they would have insured the thing…

Why would they? The “disaster” was the perfect excuse to buy a new, bigger, and even better toy.

I think the one characteristic the super affluent people I met shared was that money just wasn’t a big deal. I’m not saying that they are necessarily complacent. I mean that they just look at money like most people would look at dog food or dish soap. Money and the toys it buys are everyday commodities that really aren’t anything special.

Money may be the husk of many things but not the kernel. It brings you food, but not appetite; medicine, but not health; acquaintance, but not friends; servants, but not loyalty; days of joy, but not peace or happiness. ~

Henrik Ibsen

Over the past few years, I have had the pleasure of meeting several Internet Millionaires. They seem to like me better when I hide my education and corporate background. In my more ignorant days, I regarded their style of marketing as tacky, annoying, and unprofessional. Then I saw how they actually live, work, and play. These guys are for real.

Imagine Frank Kern, an ordinary guy from Macon, Georgia …who organized the StomperNet launch which totaled over $24 million in sales in just a matter of days. This made me wonder: Was I truly considering everything, or was I placing snobbish limitations on myself.

These days, huge Internet product launches, from INDIVIDUALS, NOT BIG COMPANIES, are becoming more commonplace. As of this writing, Rich Schefren recently launched a coaching program which reportedly sold over $981,000 in just two hours.

What’s my point?

You can accomplish just about anything - including the impossible - if you want it bad enough.

Success breeds success. I truly believe you ARE what you pay attention to. It’s called ‘paying’ attention for a reason! Do you want money? Do you want more quality in your relationships? Do you want to help people? Pay attention! In other words, focus on what you want or want to accomplish, for what you focus on is what you’ll get.

If you believe it can be done, then go do it! I have seen proof all around me. After being surrounded by so many millionaires, corporate CEO’s, and celebrities, I remember saying to myself, “Wait, I’m smarter than that guy! I’m better educated than her! How come they have everything they want and I don’t?”

Then I figured it out. It took years of research, but I finally figured it out. And you will soon know it too.

It all goes back to my teen years when I was learning to surf.

I lived in the middle of nowhere, outside of San Luis Obispo, California, which made life pretty lame growing up. When I turned 16, everything changed. I became the proud owner of a red Datsun 210 Station Wagon…with a primer brown hood (no, that was not considered cool in my neighborhood).

I saved up my money from my paper route to buy a cheap used surfboard in junior high, but never got to use it much because I could never get a ride to the beach. Now that I had wheels, it was time to get serious about surfing, so I tried to follow my friend, Chris Pontius, around to get some “cool surf tips.” Years before he became a star on MTV’s ‘Jackass’, Chris was just a normal guy, just like everyone else. In fact, some considered him a lesser human being than everyone else. Let me explain.

Chris and I met in fifth grade at a special magnet school for gifted students. We were in little league together; I even gave him a kitten once when our cat had a litter. His dad was a cardiologist and his mom was a college professor. Since Chris lived out in the sticks like me, we became instant friends and hung out quite a bit. We would spend the night at each other’s houses and sometimes go on overnight trips to places like Disneyland.

I’m sure Chris’ dad was the only cardiologist in town who let his kids build a skateboard half-pipe in his yard. I am even more certain that Chris was the only doctor’s kid with TWO half pipes in the yard.

As a teenager, my mom saw danger signs I couldn’t and she forbade me to hang out with ‘creative’ people like Chris. Yes, if you have seen ‘Jackass’, I’m sure many parents would do the same. The part I find interesting was my mother’s dire predictions about the future of “those Pontius kids”.

While traditional parents forced their kids into educational straight-jackets and rules and “fitting in,” the Pontius parents were different. Despite the fact that both the mom and dad had a PhD and MD respectively, they believed their kids could be successful in whatever field they chose and taught their kids to believe in themselves, not goals set by others.

What was the result? Chris is a rich and famous “Jackass” (a very happy jackass) and his brother, Matt, is a professional skateboarder (a very happy skateboarder). They both followed their dreams and found the pot of gold. Not bad for kids who grew up ‘in the middle of nowhere’.

Perhaps I should have skipped business school and pursued my original dream of being a lion tamer. I guess it’s never too late. How much do lion tamers make anyway?

But back to surfing…

When I started surfing seriously, I tried to make it out to the beach every day. In fact, after my mom left town and abandoned me with no place to go, I wound up homeless at age 16 and lived in my car. Guess where I parked at night? The beach.

Why? Because surfing rules!

The term ’surfing’ conjures up images of idyllic days in the sun, glistening bodies and warm Pacific waves, but that image belies the reality of the sport. It’s one of the hardest things you can ever do. After a day on the water, in the water, and under the water, you feel beat up, like you went a few rounds in the ring with Mike Tyson! This is not a joke. I have competed in dozens of sports and have even run an ultra-marathon (33 miles), but nothing compares to the physical exertion, exhaustion and brutality that defines surfing.

I think back to the advice I got from Chris…. So many years ago:

“Next time, wait for the sets to come in.”

In a nutshell, the “sets” are the big waves, the ones worth riding.

He taught me that the waves you DON’T take are just as important as the ones you DO take.

You see, actually catching a wave is a lot of work. You have to paddle your butt off to get positioned for the wave to “catch” you. Also, depending on where you are, you may have to fight off LOTS of competition for the right to ride that perfect wave.

Your competitors are often bigger, meaner and faster than you. They may have more experience, or just be more gutsy and daring.

It’s really rough out there. “Locals Only” isn’t just a brand name, a regulation, or saying. For some it’s a way of life and even death.

So anyway…

Even if you take the silly little easy waves, you still have to work like a madman to catch them. On top of that, the “ride” they give you is mediocre at best. Then you have to claw your way back into position just to have a chance to catch the next one.

Sometimes you just have to chill out and focus only on the best waves FOR YOU, not necessarily the biggest. Sometimes patience and some judicious selection pays off.

Why?

One of the hardest lessons I ever learned was on the famous Bonsai Pipeline.

When I was in college, I got a free flight to Hawaii via Air Force transport. I was in the National Guard which entitled me to fly stand-by anywhere the Air Force flies …which is pretty much everywhere.

I wanted to live out a long-time dream of surfing the Bonsai Pipeline on the north shore of Oahu. But there were a few obstacles in the way of my dream.

First, I didn’t live in Hawaii. Then thanks to the US Air Force, I overcame that obstacle, but there were still more. I wasn’t able to bring my surfboard because it was in California and I flew out of St. Louis. Not many surf shops in St. Louis. There were little kiosks that rented surfboards in Waikiki (on the south shore), but not on the north shore. For those of you who don’t know, I think the record wave on the south shore occurred in 1972 when a storm surge caused a tsunami about 13 inches tall.

A slight exaggeration, but the fact remained that the south shore had smaller waves than Lake Michigan. For those who doubt me, this is an open invite to surf the Kenosha, Wisconsin waterfront next summer. Send pictures.

I desperately NEEDED to get to the north shore.

Adding to my problem was that (at the time) you needed to be 21 to rent a car and I was only 19. To make matters worse, the Oahu bus system did not allow surfboards on the bus and the trip was WAY too far to walk …especially carrying a surfboard.

I decided to go see the Pipeline first hand anyway, sans surfboard. After getting off the bus, I was disappointed to find ONE lone surf shop at the bus stop. This was it? Where was the fanfare? Where were all the pros, photographers, and girls in bikinis? The Pipeline was supposed to be a surfer’s paradise. No trash talk, no hype. Just serious surfers doing what surfers do best.

After watching the waves for a few minutes, my whole body was screaming for action. I just HAD to go out on the water. I had a little room on my credit card, so I headed back to that lone surf shop to see if maybe… just MAYBE there was a cheap used board I could buy.

WRONGO, dude!

The cheapest used board they would sell me (and it was a total piece of garbage) cost $900.00. In retrospect, perhaps the $900.00 would have been a sound investment.

Back to the drawing board …so to speak.

I went back to the beach and just watched the waves… totally mesmerized.

Then I had a BRILLIANT idea!

I decided to BODY SURF the Bonsai Pipeline. Why not? I used to body surf all the time at home. Okay, usually I would use a body board, but is that necessary? I mean, don’t penguins do it all the time? …or is that sea lions?

Anyway, I found an area with no other surfers (I didn’t exactly want an audience if this turned out badly, nor did I wish for some Hawaiian local to mow me down with his 13-foot long-board) and started swimming out to where the REAL waves were. [Note to self: if you're about to do something and there is no competition, always question why.] After painstakingly swimming for 20 minutes, I reached a cool “shelf” in the ocean. Although I was over 100 yards from the beach, the water was only ankle deep.

I jumped off the ’shelf’ and continued swimming for deeper waters. I am a very strong swimmer, but fighting the waves was a KILLER without a board to float on.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of swimming, I saw the “perfect” swell approaching and moved into position.

As the wave grew in the distance, I could “feel” it calling my name. It grew bigger and bigger, closer and closer.

I clearly remember thinking; this is a killer 6-footer! No wait! 8-footer! No wait! 12-footer!

“This is it, the ride of your life,” I told myself as I turned toward the shore and began swimming as fast as I could.

For a brief moment, I felt nothing… just a floating feeling as I was drawn into the wave… I felt a sense of peace and tranquility all around me.

Then, I felt the power and fury of nature as never before as the wave violently sucked me inside. There was then a brief period of being held prisoner (very much against my will) inside a very, very tall wall of water. As I began to panic, I was rudely reminded that people aren’t meant to breathe water.

I was then hurled over the top of the wave … you’d probably say I was exaggerating if I told you I was hurled 15 feet straight down. I couldn’t tell you for sure… I didn’t have my tape measure with me, but it felt like 50 feet.

Have you ever done a belly flop off a high dive? Hurts, doesn’t it?

That doesn’t even compare with the pain I felt at the bottom of my fall.

Remember that “shelf” in the water I mentioned earlier? Well it turns out there’s LOTS of them on the Bonsai Pipeline.

They are not made of sand.

They are not made of stone.

They are made of razor sharp coral formations.

Yes, that perfect dream wave slammed my body down onto a coral reef. I was in too much shock to feel the tiny jagged edges of coral slice through my skin like thousands of tiny razor-blades.

I began coughing the salt water from my lungs and gasping for air. I looked behind me and saw another wave… an even bigger wave, headed straight for me.

Nowhere to run… nowhere to hide…. I lay back down on the reef, hugged it tightly, and braced for impact.

CRASH!

Wave after wave, beating after beating, the barrage continued. I was 100 yards from the shore. The waves were so close together that I didn’t have time to “make a mad dash for the beach” between the sets. Besides, I was scared that I would just smash into another reef. I was scared, disoriented, and thought I might die.

The next day’s headline would read: MORON DIES IN LAME ATTEMPT TO BODY SURF THE PIPELINE!

I began to recall the stories of how surfers have been pulled under water and trapped in the little caves that formed underneath the reef. Great. Another way to die. The only thing missing was a twenty-foot shark and with my blood in the water how far away could that be? Amazing how terror brings such moments of clarity.

For the next 30 minutes, I endured the beating. Wave after wave crashed into me as I hugged the jagged reef.

After deciding that the waves would never ease up, I let one more wave crash me into the reef, then I made a mad dash for shore.

I didn’t look back, I didn’t slow down… I put every ounce of strength I had left into a sprint that probably broke some kind of speed record.

I was still 50 yards from shore when I felt a powerful wave suck up my weak body.

I must have done ten summersaults in the water as the wave crashed down. I was trapped in the whitewater and tumbled over and over. I couldn’t even tell which way was up. It was like being in a big commercial sized washing machine and I couldn’t reach the ‘off’ button.

I remember kicking and flailing as I gasped for air. I said a quick prayer of repentance (for being such an idiot). I knew then it was time to meet my Maker. I just hoped He didn’t count off for stupidity.

In the distance, I heard an angelic voice say, “Laddie! Laddie!”

That’s when I really panicked! I wasn’t ready to see “them pearly gates!” I kicked and flailed even harder.

Again I heard, “Laddie! Laddie!”

Wait a sec… the voice sounded Australian. St. Peter wasn’t an Aussie …was he?

I heard the voice again, this time it was SCREAMING!

“LADDIE! LADDIE! STAND UP! STAND UP!”

So I did.

Much to my surprise, I was actually drowning in about 18 inches of water.

As the Australian lifeguard approached me, I walked to the dry sand and kissed it …eternally thankful that I had lived to touch terra firma once more.

The Aussie put his hand on my shoulder and asked…

“What the heck were you thinking, Laddie?”

“I dunno,“ I said. “Where were you anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be saving idiots like me?”

He said, “Yeah, but I was too busy saving that girl over there that followed you into the water. Besides, I could tell you are a really strong swimmer, am I right?”

Suddenly full of pride that I had survived, I casually bragged, “Yeah, I have surfed a bit and I swam and played water polo in high school.”

“Well, you’re lucky to be alive and that girl is even luckier!” he exclaimed.

It turned out that she was from Oklahoma and had never even seen an ocean before. She figured it was safe to swim …because she saw me do it.

As the Aussie turned away, he pointed to my chest and said, “You might want to clean that up. If you don’t, it will get infected and can scar pretty bad.”

I looked down and saw my ENTIRE body was covered in blood. The coral had literally sliced thousands of tiny cuts all over my chest, stomach, legs, and arms.

After washing my cuts out at the public shower, I passed out on the beach from sheer exhaustion.

I woke up with the worst sunburn of my life. I was as sliced and red as raw sushi and couldn’t move for two days…

So, what’s my point?

Surfing IS JUST Like Business!

Sometimes you will be more successful by saying “NO WAY!” Than by saying “yes”.

Here’s what I mean: There’s opportunity EVERYWHERE so you have to make judgments.

Every day, I am pummeled with new opportunities to make money.

When I first started out on my own, I seized on an opportunity to do a project for a huge international client. I was sick and overburdened with existing work, but took the job anyway. The project almost sent me back into the hospital.

The next week, I got an invitation to take part in a major project for Motorola.

Was the project worth a lot of money? Yes!

Did the project have potential to lead to more work? Yes!

Did I take the project? NO!

It was not in line with my personal goals and the direction I was taking with my company and my family life. It wasn’t easy to do the first time, but since then, I have learned from turning down several big opportunities. I have seen my “almost” partners make tons of money from projects I have turned down.

But you know what? That’s okay. If you spread your focus out in too many directions, you’ll be like I was as a 16-year old beginning surfer. You’ll waste your energy chasing after garbage.

If you are doing something that gives you success, keep doing it. It’s much easier to do what you are currently doing and do it BETTER than to move on to the next big thing.

Also, be careful of the “next big thing,” or “the next big wave,” because it can kill you. Success isn’t found in chasing little waves or big waves. It’s about catching the wave that’s “just right!”

Oh …and be careful not to follow someone without getting the facts first. “Miss Oklahoma” almost killed herself by blindly following me into the ocean. A simple conversation with me would have told her that:

1. I have several years experience in the water and have swum competitively

2. I am a trained lifeguard

3. I grew up with Jackasses like Chris Pontius and will do lots of stupid things on a bet, whim, or dare.

4. I plan on writing a strategy book in several years and I need an anecdote to showcase what complete and utter stupidity looks like.

“Miss Oklahoma” also taught me that no matter how dumb you are… there is always at least one person around that’s dumber than you.

And with that thought, I give you a ‘Yogi-ism’ just for fun ~

“A nickel ain’t worth a dime anymore.” ~Yogi Berra

Your 60 Second Strategy:

Eliminate Distractions

By

• Managing your time so you can focus on long-term goals rather than routine daily activities
• Keeping stress in perspective and preventing emergencies from derailing long-term goals
• Regularly challenging traditional methods of thinking
• Not letting your daily schedule interfere with long-term thinking
• Reserving time and energy to contemplate and act strategically
• Finding a quiet place to think that is free from distractions, interference and business
• Identifying “waves” in your work; map out strategies to manage them
• Developing the discipline to control mundane activity straps and firefighting
• Periodically weeding out unimportant tasks and obsolete responsibilities
• Develop techniques to control internally created “waves of distraction”

DO THIS NOW

1. Go to www.60secondStrategist.com and download the Chasing Waves strategy worksheets.

2. Identify your top ten habits, tasks, and pressures that prevent you from acting strategically.

1. Rate the difficulty you will have attempting to control these “demons”.

2. Develop a plan to deal with each of the difficult distractions.

3. Ask yourself: Is there any “wave chasing” I can delegate?

4. Ask yourself: Is there any “wave chasing” I can eliminate completely?

5. Ask yourself: Are there any waves I can just plain ignore?