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“Most of my advances were by mistake. You uncover what is when you get rid of what isn’t.”

– R. Buckminster Fuller

In the summer of 1967, a classmate and I hitchhiked from New York City to Montreal, Canada. At the time, Andy Andreasen and I were both 20-year-old students attending the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point, New York. We were hitchhiking to Montreal to see the future.

Montreal was the site for Expo 67, the World’s Fair dedicated to the future. The centerpiece of the World’s Fair was the U.S. pavilion, a massive geodesic dome that could be seen for miles. The creator of the dome was Dr. R. Buckminster Fuller, considered to be one of the greatest geniuses of our time.

Dr. Fuller had a reputation as a futurist and was often called “Grandfather of the Future.” It seemed appropriate that the U.S. government had chosen Dr. Fuller’s dome, a structure that represented the future, to be the U.S. Pavilion.

Reprinted with permission of The Estate of R. Buckminster Fuller

Dr. Fuller, or “Bucky” as many called him, was an enigma; he was someone who could not be defined. Harvard University claims him as one of their more prominent alums, yet Bucky did not graduate from Harvard. Although Fuller never graduated from college, he was awarded 47 honorary degrees over his lifetime.

The AIA, the American Institute of Architects, considers him to be one of the world’s leading architects. Bucky was not an architect by training, yet his buildings are found all over the world. In the lobby of the AIA headquarters, a bust of Fuller is prominently displayed.

He is considered one of the most accomplished Americans in history, having more than 2,000 patents after his name.

Fuller authored many books ranging from science and philosophy to poetry. President Ronald Reagan awarded Bucky the Presidential Freedom Medal in 1982, and he was once considered for the Nobel Prize.

Although extremely accomplished, Bucky often referred to himself as “just a little guy.”

Poor Dad and Bucky

It was my father, the person I refer to as my “poor dad,” who first introduced me to Dr. Fuller. In the late 1950s, while I was still in elementary school, my dad and I would sit for hours building Bucky’s models out of glue and sticks. We created the tetrahedrons, octahedrons, and icosahedrons that Fuller said were “the building blocks of the Universe.” My poor dad and Bucky had a lot in common. Both were extremely bright men who thrived in the world of academics, especially math, science, and design. Both men were committed to a better world, a world that worked for everyone. Both men dedicated their lives to serving humanity and world peace.

In 1964, when Dr. Fuller made the cover of Time magazine, my dad was ecstatic.

Standing in the Future

In 1967, Andy and I, both Bucky devotees, could not wait to visit the U.S. Pavilion and stand inside Fuller’s massive dome. The feeling inside the dome was magical, a surreal environment of peace and possibilities. I never dreamed that one day I would actually study with the “Grandfather of the Future.”

In 1981, I was invited to spend a week studying with Dr. Fuller at a lodge outside of Lake Tahoe, California. The title of the conference was “The Future of Business.” It was a week that forever changed the direction of my life.

I wish I could say I attended the lecture series to learn more about world peace, math, science, design, generalized principles, or philosophy. I can’t. My primary reason for attending the conference was to learn how Fuller could predict the future. I was motivated by pure greed, not world peace. I wanted to learn how to predict the future so I could use that knowledge to make more money.

On the last day of the event something happened to me. I wish I could explain it, but my limited vocabulary makes it hard for me to describe the experience.

I was standing behind the video camera and tripod, working as a volunteer and taping the entire event. I volunteered to stand behind the camera because I was falling asleep as a participant in the audience. Fuller was not an especially dynamic speaker. In fact, I would say he was boring—he mumbled and used words I didn’t understand.

Just as the event was coming to a close, I looked up from the eyepiece of the camera, directly at Bucky, and a gentle a wave of energy went through me. I could feel my heart open and I began to cry. They weren’t tears of sadness or pain, but tears of gratitude for this man’s courage to do what he had been doing for years: guiding and teaching and looking into the future.

John Denver wrote and recorded a song dedicated to Dr. Fuller, after Bucky touched and inspired John’s life. The title of the song is “What One Man Can Do.”

John Denver’s tribute to Bucky Fuller in that song does a far better job of describing the experience I had that day with Bucky than I can do with words in this book.

The words in John Denver’s song that have always moved me are these:

It’s hard to tell the truth

When no one wants to listen

When no one really cares

What’s going on

And it’s hard to stand alone

When you need someone beside you

Your spirit and your faith

They must be strong

Followed by the refrain…

What one man can do is dream

What one man can do is love

What one man can do is change the world

And make it young again

Here you see what one man can do

Since this book is about second chances, I describe that event with Bucky Fuller because it was one of the many second chances I have had in my life. I returned to Honolulu a changed person.

At that time, in 1981, I had factories in Taiwan, Korea, and Hawaii that manufactured licensed products for the rock and roll industry. My company was producing products for the rock bands Pink Floyd, Duran Duran, Judas Priest, Van Halen, Boy George, Ted Nugent, REO Speedwagon, and The Police. I loved the business. My factories rolled out hats, wallets, and bags with faces and logos of the bands silk-screened on the products. On the weekends I would be at concerts watching my products being scooped up by raving, happy fans. It was a great business. I was single, living on the beach in Waikiki with neighbors like Tom Selleck, and making a lot of money… which used to make me happy.

The problem was that Fuller had touched my heart and I knew, in my heart, that my days of sex, drugs, rock and roll, and money were coming to an end. I kept asking myself, “What can I do to make the world a better place?” And “What am I doing with my life?”

In 1981, I was 34 years old. I now had three professions. I had gone to the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy in New York, received my Bachelor of Science Degree, and a third mate’s license to sail on oil tankers. I had gone to U.S. Navy Flight School and learned how to fly professionally. I briefly considered flying for the airlines, but when I returned from Vietnam, I knew that, although I loved flying, my days as a pilot were over. I was now an entrepreneur with a global manufacturing and distribution business. My rock and roll products were in national chains like JCPenney, Tower Records, and Spencer’s gift stores, at concerts with the bands, and offered by retailers in countries around the world through worldwide distributors.

My problem was I had met Bucky Fuller. And when I returned to my factory in Honolulu, my mind would drift back to what I had experienced in Montreal. As I’ve said, standing in the magical environment of that dome, never dreaming I would ever meet the man who designed it… then meeting him and knowing that my life was changing yet again.

My Spiritual Job

Rather than listen to rock and roll music, I was now listening to John Denver’s music. Whenever I listened to John sing What One Man Can Do, the song he dedicated to Fuller, I would ask myself over and over again: “What am I supposed to be doing with my life?”

Whenever I listened to rock and roll music, the only thing it inspired me to do was to go to the nightclubs of Waikiki.

When I listened to John Denver’s songs, my thinking started in my heart. Rather than stay out late in nightclubs, I spent more time alone, surfing or hiking just being with the beauty of nature. On weekends, I spent time in personal development workshops learning how to become a better person, emotionally and spiritually. My more gentle side raised a few eyebrows among my Marine Corps friends and I found myself spending more time with business groups focused on solving social problems in communities around town than with associates in rock and roll or retailing.

Slowly it dawned on me that we go to school with the hope of finding a financial profession known as a job. After meeting Fuller, I realized I was looking for my spiritual profession, my spiritual work, my spiritual job and my life’s purpose.

From 1981 to 1983, I studied with Dr. Fuller on three different occasions during the summers. Between summers, my new friends and I would get together to “group study” Fuller’s books. His books are not very easy to comprehend, so we would agree to study a chapter each week then get together at one of our houses to discuss and “mind-map” Fuller’s thoughts in that chapter.

Mind mapping is a method of using color and sketches, rather than words, to organize and prioritize Fuller’s thoughts in the chapter. The sketches were done on large sheets of flip chart paper and started with a core or central concept. The key to mind mapping is color and sketches, using very, very, few words. Using very few words forces the participant to put words and thoughts into pictures, which intensifies the learning and discussion process.

As we all know, two or more minds are better than one… except in school, where two or more minds working together is known as cheating. The group study—using discussion, color, and pictures—was exciting, stimulating, challenging, and never boring. Rather than late nights in nightclubs, I was now spending late nights in book study groups. I knew this was my second chance to find my life’s purpose. Rather than go to school to learn how to transport oil, or go to school to learn to rain terror from the skies, or go to school to learn how to manufacture and sell more rock and roll products, I was now “in school,” a new second chance school, learning how to be a better human being, learning—possibly—to be a person who might make a difference in the world.

The problem was, I had no idea then what my spiritual job was… or was to be. From 1981 to 1983, I dedicated a lot of time studying Fuller’s work. And 1983 was the last summer of events that I spent with him. He closed the conference with the words “Good-bye darling people. See you next summer.” But he didn’t see us the following summer. He died three weeks later on July 1, 1983.

Changes on the Horizon

By 1984, I knew I had to make changes… the problem was I was not sure what I was supposed to do… so I just decided to do something. As the saying goes:

“Sometimes you have to let go of what you love doing so you can do what you are supposed to do.”

I had also reread the book Jonathan Livingston Seagull, written by Richard Bach and first published in 1970.

The following is from Wikipedia, and gives you an idea of what the book is about:

“The book tells the story of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, a seagull who is bored with the daily squabbles over food. Seized by a passion for flight, he pushes himself, learning everything he can about flying, until finally his unwillingness to conform results in his expulsion from his flock. An outcast, he continues to learn, becoming increasingly pleased with his abilities as he leads a peaceful and happy life.

One day, Jonathan is met by two gulls who take him to a ‘higher plane of existence’ in that there is no heaven but a better world found through perfection of knowledge, where he meets other gulls who love to fly. He discovers that his sheer tenacity and desire to learn makes him ‘pretty well a one-in-a-million bird.’ In this new place, Jonathan befriends the wisest gull, Chiang, who takes him beyond his previous learning, teaching him how to move instantaneously to anywhere else in the Universe. The secret, Chiang says, is to ‘begin by knowing that you have already arrived.’ Not satisfied with his new life, Jonathan returns to Earth to find others like him, to bring them his learning and to spread his love for flight. His mission is successful, gathering around him others who have been outlawed for not conforming. Ultimately, the very first of his students, Fletcher Lynd Seagull, becomes a teacher in his own right and Jonathan leaves to teach other flocks.”

Leaps of Faith

One important lesson I got from Jonathan Livingston Seagull is that sometimes a person needs to let go and let the currents of life carry them to where they are supposed to go.

From the summer of 1983 to end of 1984, I began preparing to let go and let the currents of life take me.

That process began with informing my two partners in my rock and roll business that I was “letting go” and moving on. When they asked where I was going, I mumbled something about letting the currents of life carry me. When that went over their heads, I simply said, “I’m taking a leap of faith into the unknown” and, in October of 1983, we began the buy-out process that would transition me out of the business.

In January of 1984, as I was tying up loose ends in Hawaii, New York, Taiwan, and Korea, I met the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her name was Kim and she wanted nothing to do with me. For the next six months, I kept asking her out and for six months her answer was always the same: “No.”

Finally, she agreed to go out. We spent dinner and a long walk on Waikiki Beach together, talking until the sun came up. From late that night until early the next morning I talked about Bucky Fuller and the possibility of a life’s purpose, a person’s spiritual job. She was the first woman I had ever met who was interested in these subjects.

Over the next few months, we saw each other regularly. She was part of my “letting go” process. She was with me when I said a tearful good-bye to my partners and the workers in the Honolulu factory. Kim and I knew we, too, would soon be saying good-bye. She had her career in advertising in Honolulu and I was leaping into nothing. One day, as the day of reckoning approached, Kim said, “I want to go with you.” In December of 1984, Kim and I held hands and took our leap of faith into the unknown. Without a doubt, 1985 was the worst year of our lives. Little did we know that, unfortunately, there would be years ahead that would make 1985 look easy by comparison.

We wish we could say it has all been easy, all peaches and cream. But it’s been hell. Even today, in 2014, although financially and professionally “successful” we still have to deal with life in the real world, a world of greed, lies, dishonesty, legal hassles, and crime.

In spite of the hardships and heartbreak, the journey has been very much like the book Jonathan Livingston Seagull described. It has been a process to test our spirit and our dedication to our process… to see if we would quit when the going got too tough.

The great news is that we have met many great people, different types of people we might never have met if Kim had remained with the ad agency and I had remained in manufacturing.

Wikipedia best describes the people we meet and befriend along the way, in its summary of Part 2 of Jonathan Livingston Seagull:

“Jonathan transcends into a society where all the gulls enjoy flying. He is only capable of this after practicing hard alone for a long time. The learning process, linking the highly experienced teacher and the diligent student, is raised into almost sacred levels. They, regardless of the all-immense difference, are sharing something of great importance that can bind them together:

‘You’ve got to understand that a seagull is an unlimited idea of freedom, an image of the Great Gull.’ He realizes that you have to be true to yourself: ‘You have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now, and nothing can stand in your way.’”

There were many times in 1985 when Kim and I had no place to live and no money to eat. We survived by living in an old, brown Toyota and in a friend’s basement. As I said, our faith was being tested.

In the fall of 1985, the stream of life carried us to Australia where we found people who loved what we were teaching. We were using games to teach socially responsible entrepreneurship and investing. By December of 1985, we actually made a small profit on a seminar we held in Sydney—and that is one of the reasons why Kim and I love Australia and will always be grateful to the people of Australia. We had let go and the current of life carried us to Australia and Australians gave us the chance to develop as teachers.

Change of Friends

One day in 1986, out of the blue, I received a call from John Denver’s Windstar Foundation. John was hosting an event in Aspen, Colorado and wanted to know if I would be one of the guest speakers, along with several other entrepreneurs including Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield, founders of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Of course I said “Yes.”

Being in a large tent on John’s property in Aspen was much like being in Bucky’s dome in Montreal. The feeling of magic, wonder, and possibilities was the same. For some reason, I did not speak on my rock and roll business. It didn’t seem to fit. For some reason—and totally unprepared—I spoke on education and learning. I spoke about the pain I went through in school, about knowing what I wanted to study but being forced to study subjects I had no interest in. I spoke about the emotional pain I went through in failing high school English twice, because I could not write well. I spoke for the kids like me, kids who wanted to learn but didn’t like school. I spoke about how so many children have their spirits crushed in the traditional process of learning. At the end of my talk, I asked everyone in the group to close their eyes, join hands, and listen to Whitney Houston’s latest release, The Greatest Love of All. The opening line of the song fit the mood and the message:

“I believe the children are our future…”

There weren’t many dry eyes in the audience as I left the stage in silence. The audience, this group of “seagulls,” were hugging each other, some crying, much as I had cried that day in 1981 when I was in the audience that first time with Bucky Fuller. The tears were of love, not sadness. They were tears of responsibility, not blame. They were tears of gratitude… gratitude for the gift of life. And they were tears of courage, knowing that changing the world requires courage, courage that comes from the heart. Many in this group of “seagulls” already knew that the word courage comes from the French word, “le coeur,” the heart. Windstar was a gathering of gulls, most of whom already knew how to fly. They knew flying took courage.

Kim was waiting for me as I stepped down from the stage and we hugged silently. We knew we had found our spiritual profession, our spiritual job and our life’s purpose. We knew then that we’d found what was to become, and still is, our life’s work.

Ironically being a teacher was the not on my list of answers to the question “What do want to be when you grow up?” Being an attorney was “a higher calling” than being a teacher. It is not that I hated school. I hated being forced to learn what I did not want to learn. I hated not learning what I wanted to learn, which was to understand money and be financially free like my rich dad. I did not want to be a slave to a paycheck, job security, and a schoolteacher’s pension, like my poor dad.

The Business Booms

Once Kim and I were clear on our spiritual jobs, our little educational company expanded to New Zealand, Canada, Singapore, Malaysia, and the U.S. business boomed.

Ten years later, in 1994, when we sold that business to our partner, Kim and I were financially free. Kim was 37 years old and I was 47. We achieved financial freedom without jobs, without government support, and without a retirement plan filled with stocks, bonds, and mutual funds.

When people began asking us how we achieved financial freedom without the traditional investment and retirement plans, Kim and I knew it was time for us to begin our new second chance.

Following one of Buckminster Fuller’s generalized principles—a principle that is true in all cases, no exceptions—we began our next business. Today that business is known as The Rich Dad Company.

The generalized principle we followed was:

“The more people I serve, the more effective I become.”

With the intent on serving more people, Kim and I began developing our CASHFLOW® game and I began writing Rich Dad Poor Dad.

On my 50th birthday, April 8, 1997, The Rich Dad Company was officially launched. Our mission:

“To elevate the financial well being of humanity.”

A Second Chance for The Rich Dad Company

As I stated in Chapter One of this book, the world of money is changing and, unfortunately, millions of people are not. The reason Kim and I continued on with The Rich Dad Company, although we are both financially free, is because of the company mission, a mission of offering more people a second chance at money and life. Today, through the development of electronic games and apps, The Rich Dad Company finds itself poised for yet another second chance, a chance to serve more people using the tools and technology of the Information Age. The beauty of second chances is that you can have as many as you need or want… without any limits. Each of us has the power to choose to pursue a second chance, as opposed to whining about what might have been. And the more we learn, and the more aware each of us is about the ever-changing world we live in, the better our odds of succeeding as we commit to a second chance.

Dr. Fuller’s last book was Grunch of Giants. GRUNCH is an acronym, which stands for Gross Universal Cash Heist.

Grunch was published after his death in 1983. Grunch was Fuller’s only book to focus on many of the same things my rich dad was concerned about, specifically how the monetary system is designed to steal our wealth.

Reading Grunch of Giants in 1983 pushed me over the edge. I knew I could no longer be a manufacturer. Although I did not know what to do, I knew I had to do something. I knew too much and I could no longer stay silent. Fuller had taught us how to see the future and even then I could see this crisis coming, a financial crisis that began in our educational system.

In the following chapters, I will explain what I learned and why we are in a financial crisis we face today.

This cash heist is not new. It has been going on for a long time. For those who seek a second chance, understanding what Fuller calls the Grunch of Giants—and what he saw for the future—is essential to creating a brighter future for you and your family.

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