08/27/2026
One of the most memorable moments of my life was also one of the most frustrating.
It was 1983. I was 10 years old, sitting in the rinky-dink lobby of the video studio where my brother worked.
He had a motorcycle, but that day, it didn’t start.
So he called my mom to pick him up—and since I was only 10, she brought me with her.
I was impatiently waiting for my brother to finish what he was doing so we could leave.
All of a sudden, the door opened, and three guys came in.
One of them looked at me and said, “Hello, young man.”
That was it—“Hello, young man”—and then he went and checked in at the front desk.
My brother had just come into the lobby.
“Do you know who that was?” he asked me.
I definitely didn’t, but I took a guess:
“Is that the lead singer for Men at Work?”
“No, you idiot,” he said. “That’s Phil Collins.”
I didn’t have a clue who that was (I was 10, remember?).
I thought it was his boss or something, but my brother told me he was a global superstar.
“Go get his autograph,” he said.
My mom grabbed a Bic pen and a losing lottery ticket out of her purse.
She handed them to me for Phil to sign.
I jumped out of the chair, but when I got to the door to the recording area, it was closed.
The little red on-air siren light was spinning.
I knew not to interrupt when that light was on.
I missed my moment.
I never saw him again.
If you know me, you know I love Genesis.
I think that We Can’t Dance is one of the best albums of all time.
I’m still pi**ed that I missed out on getting his autograph!
But here’s the cool thing:
Phil Collins looked like a CPA.
He was competing with Kiss and Bon Jovi and all these other guys who epitomized cool.
And he was kicking their asses.
Now, I’m not a particularly tall guy.
But I realized at that moment that if Phil Collins can dominate pop culture looking like a CPA…
…I could get to the top of whatever field I chose too.
That was a defining moment for me.
Truly, one of the most amazing—and infuriating—experiences of my life.