09/04/2026
Probably against my better judgment I’m going to share an AI unhinged version about me. I had to laugh about the accuracy but it’s really me, I know who I am. I love what I do. It’s longer so if you don’t have time scroll on
Marcus is a 57-year-old retired Marine legal specialist and former Corning employee who spent 33 years working toward retirement, only to reach retirement and immediately create himself a second career with considerably more plumbing problems.
Most people retire and buy a boat.
Marcus bought more real estate.
Then more real estate.
Then a few more properties because apparently peace and quiet felt suspicious.
Today, he operates three LLCs, manages a growing rental portfolio across central Kentucky, sits on the Danville-Boyle County Planning & Zoning Commission, analyzes financing, studies zoning ordinances, supervises construction, evaluates insurance coverage, tracks property taxes, manages residents, negotiates with contractors, grows fruit trees, walks several miles a day, and occasionally remembers that retirement was supposed to involve leisure.
His wife, Kim, remains an innocent bystander.
Marcus has developed a medical condition known informally as “I Wonder What They’d Take For That.”
Symptoms include slowing down while driving past distressed houses, noticing unusually deep lots, evaluating alley access from 200 feet away, and saying things like:
“That house ain’t worth much, but the lot…”
This condition is considered chronic.
There is currently no cure.
At any given moment, Marcus may be discussing:
A duplex.
A possible duplex.
A house that could become a duplex.
A garage that might secretly want to become housing.
A lot behind a house where another duplex could potentially fit.
A property that absolutely should not be purchased but has “some interesting possibilities.”
Or a perfectly fine building that Marcus has already mentally demolished and reconstructed before the owner has finished saying hello.
Normal people look at a backyard and see grass.
Marcus sees density.
Normal people see an alley.
Marcus sees secondary access.
Normal people see an old garage.
Marcus sees “about 800 square feet if the zoning works.”
Normal people see a zoning ordinance.
Marcus sees bedtime reading.
His natural habitat includes vacant lots, bank offices, county clerk records, construction sites, Lowe’s parking lots, planning commission meetings, and the driver’s seat of his vehicle while conducting an unsolicited feasibility study on somebody else’s property.
Marcus has also developed an advanced ability to detect bu****it in contractor estimates.
Contractor:
“That’ll probably be around $9,500.”
Marcus:
“For what?”
Contractor:
“Well…”
Marcus:
“No, seriously. For. What.”
He believes strongly in treating residents fairly, maintaining good housing, operating ethically, and giving people reasonable opportunities.
He also believes rent is due.
Both principles coexist peacefully.
He manages his companies with a sophisticated executive philosophy known as:
“Run the numbers again.”
If the numbers still look good:
“Run them one more time.”
If they look better:
“Something’s wrong.”
His relationship with ChatGPT is similarly rigorous.
Marcus:
“What’s the mortgage payment?”
ChatGPT:
“$1,487.”
Marcus:
“That doesn’t sound right.”
ChatGPT:
“You’re correct.”
Marcus:
“I know.”
This exchange occurs frequently enough to qualify as an operating procedure.
His portfolio includes long-term rentals, mid-term rentals, short-term rentals, duplexes, multifamily properties, construction projects, conversions, furnished units, development opportunities, and at least one project nobody fully understands until Marcus explains it three times.
His strategic planning often begins with:
“I’ve been thinking…”
Everyone nearby should immediately find a chair.
Because what follows could involve anything from replacing a water heater to building six housing units on land that, fifteen minutes earlier, nobody realized was developable.
Marcus also enjoys creating systems.
Every recurring problem eventually becomes:
A spreadsheet.
A checklist.
A dashboard.
An SOP.
A PDF.
A reminder.
Or a conversation beginning with:
“Okay, we need to get organized.”
He is currently attempting to build a multigenerational real estate business while improving his health, building better systems, spending more time with Kim, managing three companies, serving his community, exercising regularly, learning new technology, growing an orchard, and occasionally purchasing another building.
This would be considered an unrealistic workload for most people.
Marcus considers it Tuesday.
His long-term objective is generational wealth.
His short-term objective is figuring out why somebody charged $675 for something he is fairly certain should have cost $400.
His greatest strength is persistence.
His greatest weakness is also persistence.
Because once Marcus decides something can be done, the universe has approximately six months to prove otherwise.
Current operating status:
Retired: yes.
Resting: no.
Portfolio complete: absolutely not.
Watching another property: probably.
Thinking about another project: definitely.
Looking at Zillow “just to see”: technically research.
Believing he is finished buying real estate this year: statement not supported by historical evidence.
Likelihood of eventually owning something he currently drives past and says, “I like that property”: alarmingly high.
And somewhere in central Kentucky right now, there is a perfectly ordinary vacant lot enjoying its final peaceful days before Marcus notices it.
