My Path to Real Estate:  I Should Have Known!

I bet my life’s path isn’t all that much different than yours.  Actually, many of you might find some familiarity in the story to come. It’s full of dreams: broken dreams, new dreams, new beginnings, terrible endings, many sleepless nights, finding love, and finding a passion. So, bear with me for a few moments as I attempt to piece together nearly 48 years in 1,200 words or less. This is my story. Maybe even yours!  

So how did a kid from a small Indiana town that had never lived in a house that wasn’t rented end up being a real estate agent in Arizona? From my first memories as a child, I wanted to be an astronaut. I am still enthralled with space. How did it all happen? Why did it all happen? Who did it?  Are we alone? I wanted to walk on Mars and kick up red sand. Then, in 6th grade, I sat in science class and watched the space shuttle Challenger blast off and never come home. It was at that moment I decided on an entirely different path. A path of many twists and turns.

In 1998, I graduated college from the Ivy League of the Midwest, Ball State University, with degrees in Economics and Accounting.  Just a notch shy on the Thrill Scale relative to strapping myself to a rocket, but a little less risk of tragedy. For those that do not know, Ball State is located 72 cornfields northeast of Indianapolis (as the crow flies) in the metropolis of Muncie, Indiana. Outside of David Letterman, John Schatter (formerly Papa John), Jim Davis of Garfield fame, and myself, you probably have not met or heard of many esteemed alumni. 

I spent my first year as a graduate on a mission!  That mission was to serve as many drinks at the Malibu Bar Grill as possible to keep up with my student loans while accumulating as many phone numbers as possible (Sorry, Linds. Just keeping it real).  Mind you, this was a year before my first Sprint flip phone, so I had to use the payphone to line up a date. Then I learned the importance of things like health and dental insurance. It was time to take a left turn on my path and get a real job. One that didn’t involve trying to fill my own cavity.

Then I saw the movie, Boiler Room. A broker. I’ll be a broker.  Well, I was for two whole years. I was the brokest broker a broke broker could be. Funny thing is, most really successful stock brokers build their foundation on investments provided by friends and family. People with money.  My mom once had me fill up the bathtub before the water was to be shut-off. Nope, I was going to need a career that was solely based on what I brought to the table. At this point that was two degrees, a strong martini, a worthless broker’s license and, oh yeah, my brand-new Blackberry with 500 minutes a month that I couldn’t really afford.  

Technology! I could sell technology. I had mastered this new thing called texting on my Blackberry, so I had to be competent enough to sell enterprise-wide technology platforms to major call centers and collection agencies, right?  Actually, I was! Funny enough, I was really good at it. Somehow, my Blackberry and I had stumbled into a career. So, for the next fifteen years, I sold the hell out of software, calling platforms, and payment technology.  

I eventually left the cornfields behind for the desert. I got an iPhone 5. BALLER! I continued to succeed, paid off debt and saved enough for my first home purchase which led me back to Indiana, but not to live there. I went home to buy my mom the house she was never able to afford. That was the first time I ever got to hand someone the keys to their dream home. I should have known then, but I didn’t. We miss so many signs when we are chasing the dollar.

Then, it was my turn. It was time to stop renting and plant some roots in the desert. I looked near and far. It’s funny to say this now, but the move-in-ready houses were priced so high. This was definitely not Indiana. After a frustrating few months, my agent and I decided to switch things up. I would buy the ugly house and make it pretty. I won’t take you through the 9 months of renovations. That is an entirely different blog full of new and exciting expletives. Move-in day was one of my proudest moments. Finally, something just for me! I still own those keys even though the locks are long gone. It was my bachelor pad. I moved into my manly house…and then came Lindsay. Love will do crazy things to a man and a man’s house. I went from a bachelor pad with concrete floors to now having gold wallpaper and two cats. Funny thing though. I love this house much more now that we call it OURS than when I called it MINE. It is the foundation of the life we are building. You see, it’s never just a house.