That's all I had. One hundred dollars, a degree in design, and a one-way ticket to Los Angeles.
My design education started at the University of Hawaiʻi at Manoa, but the most important chapter happened 5,000 miles away. During college, I realized that the design textbooks required by students across the country were written by professors who were still teaching at Virginia Commonwealth University. So I did an exchange program to VCU to learn directly from them. That decision — chasing the source instead of settling for the secondhand version — set the tone for the rest of my career.
After graduating, I moved to Los Angeles to find work. There was no tech industry in Hawaiʻi, so the mainland was the only option. I had a plan: stay with my ex-girlfriend until I got on my feet. That plan lasted about six hours. On my first night in LA, I found out she was moving back to Hawaiʻi.
Luckily, I met a guy from Hawaiʻi at a party that same night. His name was Eric, and he offered me his couch. That couch became my home while I figured out what came next.
I used my last $100 to fax my resume — because yes, I am that old — to every company I could find that was hiring. It was the middle of the dot-com crash. Nobody was hiring.
I remember standing in a grocery store, calling my Aunty Sylvianne, telling her I had just enough money to buy either canned food or a can opener — but not both.
## Superman socks and superhero confidence
Then I got an interview.
I didn't have a car. I didn't have bus fare. So I walked across Los Angeles to get there.
But here's the thing — I walked in like I belonged. I had Superman socks on under my pants, and that might sound silly, but it mattered to me. It was a reminder that the circumstances don't define you. How you carry yourself does. I've carried that belief with me my entire career as a design leader: walk in with confidence, regardless of what's in your bank account or on your resume. Believe in yourself, and everything else will follow.
I nailed the interview. They offered me the job on the spot. And I negotiated a starting bonus.
Being a kid with his first real paycheck, I did what any reasonable person would do — I immediately spent the bonus on my first car. A black 1982 Corvette. All of my friends called it "The Batmobile."
And from that moment on, I embraced the Batman persona.
## Fandango and the bell that wouldn't stop ringing
A few years later — after being promoted to lead the entire design team within six months of that first hire, showing early that building teams and motivating people was something that came naturally to me — I joined my best friend on a wild venture: selling movie tickets online when selling things online was still a novel idea.
That venture was Fandango.
One of the highlights of my career happened on a stage I wasn't even standing on. When Steve Jobs unveiled the first iPhone to the world, he did a bit where he went to Fandango to buy movie tickets — and the work on that screen was mine. Don't judge me on the layout. Mobile design wasn't a thing yet. None of us knew what we were doing. That's the beauty of being early.
In the early days at Fandango, we would ring a bell every time we sold a ticket. It was exciting. Then the first Spider-Man movie came out and we were ringing the bell off the hook. That's when we knew we had something real.
I helped grow Fandango to 36 million monthly moviegoers. We successfully sold the company to Comcast, and I moved on to my next chapter.
## Building Paramount+ from the ground up
I joined CBS when they were still a television company. My job was to help transform them into an interactive one.
I built and launched what became Paramount+ from the ground up — designing the experience, building the team, and growing the service to nearly $1 billion in annual revenue before I departed. The success of the streaming platform was a key factor in the merger of CBS and Paramount, reshaping the entertainment industry.
I also met my wife there. So beyond the career milestone, it was one of the most meaningful periods of my life. She still works there.
## Amazon and the Batman sports coat
Then Amazon came calling.
I was recruited to lead the Prime Video team — one of the most high-profile design leadership roles in tech. And once again, I walked into the interview with superhero confidence. This time, I was wearing a Batman sports coat.
That confidence allowed me to answer every question with ease and build a genuine rapport with everyone I met. Only after I got hired did I learn just how high the bar actually was. Amazon has a process involving a "Bar Raiser" — an independent evaluator who makes the final call on every hire. You only get in if you're better than the majority of people at your level on the team you're joining.
I didn't know that walking in. I just knew I belonged. And I did.
## The call that changed everything
There was no reason to leave Amazon. The work was challenging, the scale was massive, and the team was incredible.
Then Blake Hall, the CEO of ID.me, reached out. He didn't lead with the product or the business metrics. He led with a mission: "No Identity Left Behind."
As someone raised in a family where protecting others was the highest calling — as the grandson of Lieutenant Colonel Frank Carlos Sr., who I called Papa, who taught me that standing up for people is what you do with your life — those four words hit differently than any recruiting pitch I'd ever heard.
After a career making it easier to buy movie tickets, find your favorite show, and stream entertainment — I wasn't sure how much real value I'd brought into people's lives. At ID.me, I knew immediately. We protect real people from real bad actors who are using AI to steal identities, tax returns, and benefits. As the single login for the IRS and a key login for government services including the VA and Social Security Administration, we have to work for every human being. No exceptions.
I put in my notice at Amazon. I still consider it the best career decision of my life.
## Why Batman
People ask me about the Batman thing all the time. They think it's just a fun personality quirk — an office decorated like a Batcave, a Batmobile in the parking lot, Bruce Wayne Wednesdays where I dress up and build cross-functional relationships across the company.
It is fun. I won't pretend it isn't.
But it's more than that. It goes back to Papa.
My grandfather served his country and then spent the rest of his life serving his family and his community. He taught me that the most important thing you can do is protect others. Give everything 110%. Stand in the gap for people who need someone in their corner.
That's Bruce Wayne's story too. He saw a city that needed someone to show up — not because it was easy or glamorous, but because it was right. And he decided that person would be him. Every single day.
That's what resonated with me as a kid. And it's what drives me as a Chief Design Officer. I protect the user experience. I protect accessibility — making sure no one is excluded from the products we build. I protect my team — creating an environment where the best designers in the world can do the best work of their careers. I protect the mission — No Identity Left Behind.
The Batman persona isn't a costume. It's a commitment.
## The Batmobile, full circle
Every car I've ever owned has been a black Corvette customized to be a Batmobile. Every single one.
My most recent Batmobile is a black 1982 Corvette — the same year as that first car I bought with my signing bonus when I had nothing. Except now I have the resources to customize it with the latest and greatest high-tech gear.
I keep coming back to the '82 on purpose. It's a reminder of where I started. A kid from the North Shore of Oʻahu who moved to LA with $100, slept on a stranger's couch, walked across a city to an interview in Superman socks, and decided that day that he would never let the circumstances define what was possible.
If you're reading this and you're early in your career — maybe you're that kid right now, wondering if you have what it takes — let me tell you something I wish someone had told me standing in that grocery store:
The odds don't matter. The money doesn't matter. What matters is that you walk in like you belong. Because you do.
Believe in yourself and everything else will follow.
Imua (move forward with strength).
