I didn’t mean to rebuild this site. It just happened. So, here we are.

I’ve been told a personal site should be a landing page: headshot (check), headline (check), a tidy list of accomplishments (check), a button that says “Let’s talk” (hmm…).

But I have a LinkedIn profile for that. It does the job. I want this site for the parts LinkedIn can’t hold.

What the résumé says

For thirty years I’ve worked in the places where media, technology, and brands collide, often before those intersections had names. That includes interactive television, global digital video strategy for one of the world’s biggest technology companies, and now the question of how brands earn a recommendation in answers written by machines. The Career page has all the details. I won’t recite them here.

What the résumé leaves out

I grew up on the Jersey Shore, and I started writing songs at fourteen. I’ve spent weekends chasing steam locomotives, and I’ve dedicated years raising money and attention for railroad and industrial artifacts that would otherwise be scrap. I write essays about trains, chicken wings, and hockey, and I’m not sorry about any of it.

For a long time I treated these as two lives: the serious one that pays the bills, and the other stuff. I’ve stopped doing that, because they share a root that makes both richer.

The thread

Each life comes down to the same question: what works, and why?

A brand becomes the AI default when someone builds the readable corpus of evidence, keeps it accurate, and tends to it over time. A vintage locomotive runs again for the same reason. Somebody documented it, defended it, and raised the money to keep it alive.

Everything that lasts has a caretaker. That includes brand reputation and conversion, as well as an old locomotive I lovingly call 115 tons of tetanus.

How to use this site

I built the site three paths:

• What I think. Observations on AI, innovation, and what brands should be doing about both.
• What I’ve done. The Career page, for the professional record and the people I’ve had the pleasure to partner with.
• The other stuff. After Hours, for stories, songs, and trains. There’s more of it than you’d expect.

Pick one. Or read all three, and you’ll get the full picture of how a person who spends his days on the future finds time for pursuits of the past.

If something here sparks an idea, a disagreement, or a speaking invitation, write to me.