So, Who Is This Guy?

A little about how a graphic designer, entrepreneur, Airbnb host and professional overthinker ended up selling real estate in Brown County.

If you’ve spent any time on this site, you’ve probably figured out that I’m not particularly interested in looking or sounding like every other real estate agent.

That’s partly intentional.

It’s also partly because I didn’t grow up wanting to be a Realtor.

For nearly 40 years, I’ve made my living as a graphic designer, creative director, brand developer and entrepreneur. I’ve spent a career helping businesses figure out who they are, what makes them different and how to communicate it.

Then, a few years ago, I did something I wasn’t really expecting.

I got my real estate license. (Thanks, Danny!)

And somewhere along the way, I discovered that the two careers aren’t nearly as unrelated as they might seem.

This is my short term vacation rental called Plāhaus. It was named by Airbnb as the Most-Wishlisted Airbnb in Indiana.

I’ve always been wired to notice things.

Designers are trained to look.

We notice when something is three pixels out of alignment. We notice the sign everyone else drives past. We wonder why somebody made a particular choice. We look at something that isn’t working and instinctively start figuring out how we’d make it better.

It can be a useful skill.

It can also make you incredibly annoying to have dinner with.

But that way of thinking followed me into real estate.

When I walk a property with someone, I don’t just see bedrooms, bathrooms and square footage.

I notice how the house sits on the land. Where the sun comes up. What you see out the windows. Whether that awkward room could become something great. Whether there’s privacy—or the illusion of privacy that disappears in January when the leaves come down.

I notice the driveway, the neighboring property, the topography, the power lines, the trees, the water, the view and the things that might be difficult or expensive later.

And because this is Brown County, sometimes I’m thinking about things like wells, septic systems, steep hillsides, access roads and whether your Prius is ever going to make it home in February.

That’s part of the adventure.

Brown County is different.

I live here because I genuinely love this place.

Every year, I host an event called BobFest. It’s my way of giving back to the community. Everyone is invited and welcomed for a day of music, food, fun, and friends, new and old.

My home during BobFest, in the fall every year.

The hills. The woods. The back roads. The artists. The characters. The little bit of weirdness. The fact that you can be sitting in Nashville having dinner and 15 minutes later be somewhere that feels like nobody else exists for miles.

Brown County has a personality.

And buying property here is different from buying a house in a subdivision where you can pretty easily compare 123 Maple Court with 127 Maple Court.

Here, one five-acre property can be completely different from the five acres next door.

One has a spectacular ridge. One has a creek. One is mostly ravine. One has an amazing building site. One looks fantastic in August but has a very different view in February. One has an access issue you really need to understand before you fall in love with it.

That’s one of the things I enjoy most about Brown County real estate.

Every property is a puzzle.

And I like puzzles.

I’ve been on the other side of this, too.

I’m not only a real estate agent.

I’m a property owner, an entrepreneur and a short-term rental host. I created and operate Plāhaus here in Brown County, and I've learned firsthand what makes people choose one place over another.

That experience has taught me a lot about property that you don't necessarily learn in real estate school.

I've thought about architecture, land, construction, guest experience, photography, marketing, pricing, maintenance and all the little things that turn a piece of real estate into something people connect with.

I've also dealt with things going wrong.

Because things go wrong.

Anyone who tells you property ownership is one long montage of sipping coffee on the deck while deer wander through the mist has apparently never owned a septic system.

All of that experience comes with me when I'm looking at property with a client.

I don't think my job is to sell you something.

This may be a questionable philosophy for someone whose income depends on selling real estate, but here we are.

I don't think my job is to convince you to buy a house.

I think my job is to help you make a good decision.

Sometimes that means getting excited about a property with you.

Sometimes it means pointing out something you haven't considered.

And sometimes it means saying:

I wouldn't buy this.

I'd rather lose a transaction than watch someone make a decision I don't believe is right for them.

That doesn't mean I'm always right. I'm not.

Ask virtually anyone who has known me for more than 20 minutes.

But I will tell you what I think.

I don't manufacture urgency. I don't believe every property is "AMAZING!!!" And I don't think every listing needs to be described as a "stunning oasis" with "breathtaking" everything.

Sometimes it's just a really good house.

Sometimes it's a weird house on a fantastic piece of land.

Sometimes it's overpriced.

Sometimes the ugly one is actually the opportunity.

The trick is figuring out which is which.

Real estate is a team sport.

Another thing I believe pretty strongly: the agent on the other side of a transaction is not my enemy.

We're representing different people, and sometimes we're going to disagree. That's part of the job.

But the best transactions I've been involved with have happened when good agents, lenders, inspectors, title companies, contractors, buyers and sellers all work together to solve problems and get everybody where they're trying to go.

I like recognizing those people.

Nobody does this alone.

And being difficult simply for the sake of proving you're a tough negotiator doesn't impress me much.

Solve the problem.

Protect your client.

Treat people decently.

Keep moving.

I'm also still figuring things out.

I'm 62.

I've had a long career. Built businesses. Had successes. Made mistakes. Changed directions. Learned some things the easy way and considerably more things the expensive way.

And I'm still learning.

I actually like that.

There was probably a time when I thought that by 62 I would have everything figured out.

That's adorable.

Instead, I'm building another chapter.

I'm still designing. Still creating. Still working with clients. Still getting excited about ideas. Still trying things that may or may not work.

And now I'm helping people buy and sell property in this strange, beautiful little corner of Indiana that I call home.

I don't see real estate as a second career that replaced the first one.

I see it as another place to use everything I've learned.

Design taught me to see.

Marketing taught me to listen.

Entrepreneurship taught me to solve problems.

Owning property taught me that the spreadsheet never tells the entire story.

And life has taught me—sometimes rather insistently—that plans change.

You adjust.

You keep going.

And occasionally you discover that the unexpected road was the interesting one anyway.

So, what's an “Adventure Guide”?

When I started thinking seriously about how I wanted to approach real estate, I knew I didn't want to create another version of the standard Realtor brand.

You've seen it.

Nice headshot. Nice jacket. Arms crossed.

"Your Trusted Real Estate Professional."

There's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

It's just not me.

I'm much more comfortable in a flannel shirt, ball cap and hiking shoes, walking around somebody's five acres trying to figure out where the property line goes.

And Real Estate Adventure Guide describes the job the way I actually see it.

Because buying a place—especially here—is an adventure.

Maybe you're looking for a cabin tucked into the woods.

Maybe you want ten acres and enough distance from your neighbors that pants become largely optional.

Maybe you're leaving Indianapolis and wondering if you could actually live down here full time.

Maybe you want a weekend place.

Maybe you're looking for an investment.

Or maybe you're on the other side of it. You've loved a property for 30 years, and now it's time to sell it and let someone else begin their chapter there.

Those are big decisions.

They're financial decisions, certainly.

But they're also life decisions.

And I think they deserve more than someone opening a lockbox and saying, "Here's the kitchen."

That's where I come in.

I don't know exactly what your Brown County adventure looks like.

That's kind of the point.

My job isn't to decide it for you.

My job is to listen. To notice things. To ask questions. To do my homework. To point out what I see. To tell you what I really think—even when that isn't necessarily what you were hoping I'd say.

And when we find the right thing, I'll be every bit as excited about it as you are.

Maybe even a little too excited.

I'm working on that.

So that's me.

Designer. Entrepreneur. Property owner. Airbnb host. Realtor. Dreamer. Cruise director. Brown County resident. Professional overthinker.

And, apparently...

Real Estate Adventure Guide.