It Wasn’t Me...It Was the Lawn Mower (and the Pizza Oven)

I used to outsource lawn care completely. From a time vs money perspective, it just didn't make sense without having the right equipment, and I had work to do... But then we moved a few times, scheduling someone to mow felt like a hassle, and the one time I really needed them? Couldn’t get ahold of them.

A few weeks ago, I spent time at our family lake house which has a pretty sizeable lawn. Growing up, we always had chores to do around the house in order to gain an appreciate for the place, and I'm grateful for that work effort now, even though they were the last things I wanted to do as a kid growing up. But this time, for the first time, I used a self-propelled electric mower. I didn’t think much of it at first, but halfway through mowing, I caught myself actually enjoying it. That little motor assist made it feel like I was gliding across the grass. The job felt… doable. Even fun. I could hear the music on my headphones, but I didn't need to rely on them, in order to drown out the motor.

And that moment kind of unlocked a bigger realization:
Having the right tool doesn’t just make a job easier, it makes you want to do it.
It makes you feel capable. Proud. Like maybe you can take on other things you’ve been avoiding.

I’ve felt that same shift in the kitchen. I grew up with Friday night pizza: Blockbuster Video and a Domino’s delivery. Total nostalgia and I couldn't wait for the end of the week. But in college, I actually started my own pizzeria. The only reason I could? Aside from my inherently entrepreneurial brain that never switches off, my fraternity had a commercial-grade kitchen, and I made a deal to use it at night when no one else needed it. Having access to the right equipment made launching that business affordable and possible. It turned an idea into action, and not to mention it was an absolute blast working and serving my friends and the local community.

These days, I still make pizza almost every week. Sometimes in an outdoor pizza oven, sometimes with a baking steel or Detroit-style pan. But now it’s not about speed, it’s about satisfaction. Because the tools let me enjoy the process. And when something’s enjoyable, it becomes a ritual.

Same thing happened in my career. I used to be an aerial cinematographer, often dropped in the middle of nowhere with one shot to get it right. You couldn’t rely on backup. You had to bring the best gear the first time. The better the tools, the better the footage. The better the footage, the more valuable we became. That job taught me to respect gear. And to never show up unprepared.