Chasing Elon

The first time I saw a Tesla, I was driving to Charlotte with my friend Joe.

This was in the early days of Tesla when they were still using Lotus bodies, and most folks outside of Silicon Valley, myself included, had no idea what a Tesla was.

The car was a black Roadster.

The driver was an attractive middle-aged blonde.

She caught my eye as she pulled into the left lane to pass me on Independence Boulevard, where the original Infinity's End used to be.

She drove beside us for a moment and then stepped on the gas.

Or the pedal, I should say.

Either way, she punched it and was out of sight almost too fast for me to catch that the license plate was "Electric."

"Tesla! Tesla! OMG that was a Tesla!"

Joe was hollering.

But I was clueless.

"What's a Tesla?"

I didn't know who Elon Musk was and didn't think much about Tesla for another decade. Buried in my newly found Realtor identity, I was only interested in where I could get another lead on someone who wanted to buy or sell a house.

But as I pour over Musk's latest biography, I am more in awe than ever.

Although I'll cry at the drop of a hat during a rarely-watched movie and get teary-eyed over a well-executed commercial, books rarely have that effect.

Still, as I read about the moment following three failed attempts at which the fourth Falcon rocket successfully delivered its payload into orbit, a tear escaped my eyes and landed on the page.

This was in 2008 when Musk's life was in shambles. SpaceX and Tesla teetered on bankruptcy, he was newly divorced with young children, and the mounting stress was taking a toll on his health.

Although different in scale by orders of magnitude, my life experience at the time was strikingly similar.

Not long after the successful Falcon launch, the Great Recession would be in full swing, and I'd find myself earning a mere $1,400 over the following nine months.

When my ex-wife, practically the sole income at the time, declared that she would resent me for the rest of our lives if she weren't allowed to take the first year of our firstborn's life away from work, I agreed.

But in doing so, I knew divorce was on the horizon. I could no longer escape the gnawing feeling that my high school girlfriend and I were becoming different people with drastically different outlooks.

Around that time, Musk had friends and advisors insisting that he change his ways. He must, they insisted, choose either SpaceX or Tesla and let the other go, and he must operate the chosen survivor differently than he had thus far.

I was given similar advice and admonishments, and the echoes of people with whom I was once close still ring.

"You have failed, young man, and it's time for you to get a real job."

Elon pivoted, and today, he's the wealthiest man in the world and CEO of six companies: SpaceX, Tesla, Twitter, The Boring Company, Neuralink, and xAI.

I pivoted, and although I certainly will never be the richest man on the planet, I own 5 [very, very small] businesses, and I'm now acquiring a sixth.

I don't know what drives my desire to do this; I suppose I was born that way.

And there are a great many days I feel as though I can never succeed.

On those days, I tell myself that if Elon Musk can do it on such a massive scale, I can surely pull it off on an exponentially smaller scale.

And, like Musk, I believe I can.