Our Old Dad

’90s me was sunk into a lopsided couch off 6th and Pearl in Boulder, a living room that smelled like bong water, thrift-store patchouli, and wet ski gloves. We’d flip between local news and reruns, argue whether The Sink or Dot’s Diner had the better hangover eggs, and swear we could see faces in the Flatirons if the sunset hit just right. That night, two stories bled together through the haze: pets getting microchipped and breathless chatter about barcodes for people . We were not “if you’ve got nothing to hide…” guys. We had plenty to hide. This was dial-up and pagers, a shoebox of Dead tapes— Jerry was still alive —and gravity bongs made from 2-liter bottles. In Boulder you could be a stoner and a citizen; in a lot of places it was a felony back then. Boulder’s acceptance made you lax when you visited anywhere else—you’d forget the rules changed at the county line. Our consensus was simple: no chips, no codes, no thanks —and besides, “No one would ever go for that, dude.” We a...

  I didn’t build this system. I asked for it. I have wanted a world class group of advisors for every aspect of my life, and I was tired of waiting. 🧠🧭 The Frustration 😤 It started like this: I was using ChatGPT regularly and getting a lot out of it — more than most people, probably. But over time, things got messy. Conversations would drift. Memory would fill up. I'd lose context, or worse, start preserving the wrong kind of context: fragments of specific details that clogged the system while the important, core parts of me — the way I think, the values that drive my decisions — got buried under domain names and test scores. It wasn’t that ChatGPT was broken. It was doing exactly what I was asking — just not what I wanted . So I stopped. And I asked it a simple question: "What if I want a team of world-class advisors who think like I do, but who each specialize in a different area of my life? What if I’m not the same person in every domain, and I want AI that re...