My wife and I were married in August of 1971, and we have been talking about living on “a beach” almost since day one. I would guess it started out as a sort of joke, because we were from the middle of Nebraska and “a beach” is not something that people talk about very often. When one of us would have a difficult day, we would say that someday we are going to be living on “a beach” and we will not be having those sorts of troubles anymore.
In the days before we had any money, we would joke about living on “a beach” somewhere in Mexico, with only a tent, an ice chest and enough money to buy beer. In the late 1980’s as we were struggling to get our businesses off the ground, every month or two, our bankers would tell us we would never be able to make our business models work and that we should think about doing something different. After those meetings, the thoughts of “a beach” would pop up again.
In the early 1990’s the US’s economy went through a stage where credit card companies were sending out applications for credit cards to people when they reached a certain age. I guess it was their way to draw customers. Not knowing that she was not the only person in the country getting three or four offers for a credit card in the mail every week addressed to her, my wife decided that she was some sort of special person and decided she needed a few of them.
We had a “minor” disagreement over the idea that she may not be “self-disciplined” enough to handle several credit cards. With that challenge thrown down, she was bound and determined to “prove” that she was indeed quite “self-disciplined” and to make a long story short, over a two-year period, between the two of us, we had over 100 credit cards in a drawer with a “cash advance” value of over $500,000.00. At this point, the “a beach” story got to be, if our businesses all fell apart, we would just head for Mexico, cashing out the cards as we went and when we got to the border, we would just leave the car and walk across with the cash. Still headed for “a beach”.
As it turned out, we did make our business models work and 45 years after we first started talking about “a beach”, we sold our businesses, rented out our land and moved to Padre Island, Texas. While we are not right on the beach, it is only a mile or so away and we go over almost daily.
We have been here for only eight months, but we are already so much beach people, that the other day I got in the pickup to go to the store and I got three blocks down the street before I realized that I had no shoes on. Thus, the name, The Barefoot Businessman.
I may not remember my shoes, but I do remember how to do business. If you know anyone that is ready to chase their dream to their “beach”, have them give me a call, I am not only “The Barefoot Businessman”, I also teach “The Money Recipe”.