On a Personal Note...

This is all the personal stuff about me. There's absolutely no business reason for you to look at this section...

Life started for me at Stanford University Hospital on April 13, 1949. My dad, Merle, was an electrical engineer at Pacific Telephone and Telegraph Company (later becoming Pacific Bell), and had just returned from WWII as a radar officer on a destroyer escort fighting in the Pacific. Edith, my mom, had retired from her career singing with the San Francisco Opera Company. Although both of my parents are now dead, I have a close relationship with my big sister, Marlene, who you see in the photo cradling her baby doll.

I grew up in San Carlos, California, a suburb of San Francisco. I started many little neighborhood enterprises marketing used comic books, homemade sno-cones, greeting cards, you name it. If you look closely at my eyes in this photo, you'll note that I'm looking for the next entrepreneurial opportunity.

My dad was very proud that he took his family on a big vacation experience each summer. He thought trips like driving from California to Mexico City in our 1951 Packard were fun adventures. However, unlike me, he wasn't crammed into the back seat with a big sister and assorted baskets, pottery, and canary cages (and canaries). Some years we went to Europe; others involved train trips around the U.S.; and later, camping and fishing in the Sierra Nevada mountains. My great great grandfather was George Donner, leader of the ill-fated Donner Party (check for "cannibalism" under U.S. History in your encyclopedia) and our family felt connected to those same mountains. I was severely bitten by the travel bug at an early age.

I lived in the same house all through grade school and high school, and then headed off to the University of California on the beach in Santa Barbara.

In my sophomore year, the university's Placement Director, who helped students find part time jobs, sent me out on an assignment no other student wanted. I was hired as a "Nut Demonstrator" at the nearby Sears Roebuck store just off State Street in Santa Barbara. I remember walking through the store in a tall white chef's hat with a tray of cashews and a long handled spoon calling out: "They're grown in India and roasted right here at Sears. Have one! Give one to your poodle. Then head over to that machine at the candy counter and get a whole bag of fresh roasted cashews to take home for your family!"

I did so well with the nuts (and that may have been a personality shaping experience) that the Placement Director called me in to urge me to apply for what she told me was the very best job on campus: "Campus Sales Representative" for TWA. I didn't know much about the job, but she said it was the best one available, so I set my sights on getting it. Sure enough, my new boss at TWA welcomed me to the company and explained that I'd be paid $100 a month part time, which worked out to $2.50 an hour. Oh, there was one other benefit to this part time sales job: Unlimited free travels anywhere in the world! That turned out to be a pretty good job.

This sounds like a fantasy, but it's absolutely how I made decisions through college: "It's Thursday and my next class is Monday. I can go to a movie or two, shoot some pool, buy a couple of tacos, and that's going to cost me $10 to $15 for the weekend. Or, I can fly to Hong Kong and see two movies westbound, and two more eastbound, have several meals on the plane, and ride the Star Ferry back and forth across Hong Kong harbor for a nickel. So, that's going to total up to about 50 cents for the weekend. Hmmm. Let me think."

Over the next six years, I completed my BA in Rhetoric and Public Address at UCSB and then earned an MBA in Marketing at UCLA. But this version of my bio isn't supposed to be about business, is it? Way more important than the book learnin' was what I did with all those free tickets from TWA: Hitchhiked from Nairobi to Cape Town and back a couple of times, trekked into the highlands of New Guinea, hiked to Machu Piccu via the Inca Trail in the Andes, and on and on and on. I made extensive use of my free travel benefit, always with a backpack, a smile, and usually a ponytail.

After finishing up my formal education, I could no longer keep that cushy $100 a month part time job with unlimited travel and almost no interference impinging upon my vagabonding nature. I had to get a real job. After a few months (full time!) as TWA's Supervisor of Sales Development in LA, I was recruited by a New York ad agency that was opening a West Coast office. I worked in account management for a variety of clients including Continental Airlines, McCulloch Chain Saws, and Van de Kamps Frozen Foods. Ah, but I'm slipping back to business and this is supposed to be the juicy personal stuff.

In the mid-1980's, I left my career in the ad business and became a professional speaker, got married, gave a lot of speeches, wrote three books, established wonderful long-term friendships and professional relationships, and then, in 1990 the most wonderful thing happened: I became a father! Kelcie Paige Walther, born on April 29, 1990, has her own section of this web site, and I encourage you to jump there and take a look at my charming daughter.

Kelcie's mother and I divorced in 1995 and then things took an unusual turn. After the divorce, my former wife decided to move to Canada. As a result, I became Kelcie's custodial parent. She now lives with me in the same neighborhood that has been her home since birth. We live in a sweet little cottage on a small lake and have a very close relationship. She does visit her mom on a little island in British Columbia regularly. Most days, if I'm not out on a speaking engagement, I'm at the bus stop sending Kelcie off to class, or welcoming her home.

As for hobbies, I'm a hiker and enjoy the trails right around my home. I've been a private pilot; however, after crashing my airplane in 1996, I took up motorcycling and now enjoy riding my Harleys.

And, I love my professional life as much as my personal life.

Was that a little more information than you were after? Or, way way too much?