A Call That Changed Everything

From a Chance Invitation to a Lifelong Passion for Ideas

Thirty years ago, on a quiet Sunday morning, I got a call from a friend.

“What are you doing for the next few days?” he asked.

Before I could answer, he added, “I’ll be at your house in 90 minutes to take you to Monterey for the TED Conference. So, pack a bag.”

I had no idea what TED was—almost no one outside the small circle of attendees did. It was 1995. My friend, a sponsor of the opening night’s party, had a spare ticket. At the time, I didn’t realize how valuable that ticket was. To me, it just sounded like an adventure. And it was.

I’d never been to Monterey before and didn’t know what to expect. It turned out to be a charming, intimate town, and back then, TED practically took over the place. Every restaurant buzzed with conversation during meal breaks. The first night’s welcome event was held outdoors, and as I stood there, taking it all in, I turned to my friend and said, “Thank you for thinking of me.” He was right—I loved it.

Discovering the TED Experience

That week was unforgettable.

At the time, TED was deliberately kept under the radar. Founder Richard Saul Wurman believed speakers would be more honest and vulnerable if they knew their talks wouldn’t be recorded or published the next day. That created an atmosphere of raw, unfiltered storytelling.

The conversations I had that week were unlike anything I’d experienced before. Every discussion was fueled by curiosity, creativity, and ideas I didn’t even know I craved—but I did. It was a whirlwind of insight and inspiration, from morning coffee to late-night chats.

TED’s main stage was in the Monterey Conference Center’s amphitheater, an intimate setting despite its significance. It only seated 500 people, with another 500 watching from cleverly designed simulcast areas created by TED’s partner, Steelcase. These small viewing spaces encouraged group discussions, giving us a taste of what TED would eventually become—a place to absorb ideas and share them.

By noon on the first day, tickets for the following year were nearly sold out. I didn’t want to miss out, so I secured my spot for the next conference. That was 30 years ago. Since then, I’ve followed TED from Monterey to Long Beach and now to its home in Vancouver.

Building Community and Innovation

When Chris Anderson took over TED in 2001, he kept its spirit intact while challenging its exclusivity. When YouTube could stream video, he boldly put TED talks online. For the first time, I could share what I had experienced firsthand. Instead of just telling people about it, I could say, “Watch this,” and let them experience what I had felt in that audience.

Still, some moments remained exclusive—especially the incredible live performances, which only attendees could witness. And surprisingly, many people still don’t know that TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, and Design.

That same year, I had lunch with my future wife, Kymberlee. I told her about my “vacation for my brain” and how much I wanted to take her to Monterey the following February. But TED was already sold out, and getting a ticket was nearly impossible.

Then, weeks later, my friend Peter Goldie called. He had convinced his boss at Macromedia—who happened to be my former boss at Alias|Wavefront—to sponsor TED and wanted to brainstorm ideas with me. Kymberlee and I had sketched out a concept on the back of a napkin for a networking tool that matched people based on deeper connections, not just shared interests. Peter encouraged us to refine it so he could present it to Chris Anderson.

Chris loved it. He added his own ideas to make it even more interesting, and before we knew it, we were building something that would help connect TED attendees beyond the annual event. That project ultimately became Kymberlee’s ticket to her first TED, and a company inadvertently launched at TED, which kept us busy for the next 20 years, called introNetworks.

At its core, TED was never just about the talks—it was about the people. Chris wanted to bridge the gap between conferences, creating a community connected by shared values rather than just common interests. He believed, and we agreed, that this would foster lifelong friendships. And it has.

Expanding TED’s Reach and Personal Growth

In 2009, TED took another leap forward. Chris announced a new initiative—anyone could license the TED brand to host a conference in their community. Kymberlee and I jumped at the opportunity to create TEDxAmericanRiviera, named after Santa Barbara’s tourism slogan.

Organizing our TEDx felt like a full-time job, so we committed to doing it for three years. When a friend we met at TED, Lee Daley, asked when we planned to host the first one, we casually said, “Sometime in late 2010.”

“Perfect,” he said. “You can do it on 10-10-10.”

I laughed. “Then we could follow it up with 11-11-11 and 12-12-12.”

And just like that, we had a plan.

Each year, a few months after our TEDx event, we return to “Big TED” to reconnect with other organizers, share stories, and trade lessons learned. That experience sparked a new passion in me: seeking out remarkable ideas right in our own backyard.

Wanting to capture and share the knowledge of TEDx organizers worldwide, I launched Hacking the Red Circle, a podcast in which I interviewed organizers from around the world. These conversations offered an inside look at the dedication, creativity, and challenges of producing TEDx events. It became an unexpected way to document the movement and deepen my connection with the TEDx community.

After 15 years of producing TEDx events, hosting over 100 in-person talks, facilitating 175 virtual conversations, and recording countless podcast episodes, I realize that TED has been more than just an annual retreat—it has been a defining part of my life.

It has shaped how I think, the people I surround myself with, and the ideas I chase. More than anything, it has reinforced my belief that real change happens when people come together around ideas that matter.

What started as a spontaneous road trip has turned into a lifelong adventure. And after all these years, TED still feels the same—an endless journey of curiosity, inspiration, and the unwavering belief that ideas can transform the world.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way

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