What Makes a Great Employee?

Since I was about fifteen years old, I’ve been an employee somewhere. Every job taught me something, but the biggest lesson wasn’t how to flip burgers, stock shelves, or answer calls.

It was how to work.

More importantly, it was how to be a teammate.

I was taught two simple rules early on:

Never let your boss catch you standing around.
Never let your boss do your work.

Those two lessons have stayed with me for decades.

To me, a great employee isn’t the loudest person in the room or the one constantly reminding everyone how hard they work. A great employee shows up on time. They don’t spend their shift complaining. They’re confident in their abilities but humble enough to keep learning. They finish the job correctly the first time because doing it right matters.

And when the shift is over?

They don’t sprint for the door while someone else is drowning.

They stay. They help.

Because they understand something that too many people have forgotten: when one teammate struggles, the whole team struggles.

The best employees don’t need to be told what to do next. They always find something productive. They take pride in their work, no matter how small the task. They don’t participate in workplace gossip, and they certainly don’t become the source of the drama.

Work isn’t high school. It’s a team sport.

For years, I was the employee. Today, I’m the boss. Ironically, I still think I was a better employee than I am a boss.

When I watch everyone clock out and one employee is left buried with dishes, cleaning, or closing duties, I don’t stand back and supervise.

I grab a towel. I pick up a mop. I jump in.

Because that’s what teammates do.

Titles don’t make people leaders. Actions do.

Someday, every employee gets a reputation. Some become the person management worries about every time they’re scheduled. Others become the person everyone hopes is working because they know the job will get done.

Which one are you becoming?

The wake-up call may never come for some people. But if it does, don’t waste it. Be the employee your coworkers are thankful to work beside.

Be the employee your manager can count on without a second thought.

Be the kind of worker a company is proud to have. Because people may forget what job you had…

But they’ll never forget what kind of teammate you were.

The Roofing Crew

The other day, I looked out the window and noticed a roofing crew pulling into my neighbor’s driveway. The job wasn’t small either, a house and a detached garage. What happened over the next few hours was something most people would barely notice, but it ended up being a lesson in business, teamwork, and work ethic.

The first thing that stood out was how organized the crew was. This wasn’t a group of guys randomly swinging hammers and hoping for the best. This was a well-oiled machine.

Two men worked on the roof tearing off the old shingles. Supporting them were two additional workers whose sole responsibility was keeping the debris moving and making sure nothing piled up or slowed the process. On the ground, three more crew members stayed busy. Two gathered and stacked old shingles while a third operated some type of powered wagon, constantly moving around the property collecting debris as fast as it was generated.

Then another crew member stepped in, operating a lift that delivered bundles of new shingles directly to the roof.

As soon as the old roof was stripped away, the operation shifted gears. The two roofers immediately began installing the new shingles while the support crew opened bundles, staged materials, and ensured the installers never had to stop working. There was no standing around. No confusion. No wasted movement. Every person knew exactly what needed done.

The remarkable part?

The entire project was completed in less than four hours.

Watching them, it became obvious that the speed wasn’t the impressive part. The teamwork was.

Every employee had a specific role. Every employee understood that role. And every employee executed it with confidence. Nobody was trying to do someone else’s job. Nobody was waiting to be told what to do next. There was no horseplay, no distractions, and no wasted energy. From the moment they arrived until the last piece of debris was hauled away, it was all business.

As a business owner, that observation hit home.

Success isn’t always about having the most talented individual employees. It’s about having a team that works together toward a common goal. When everyone understands their responsibilities and trusts the people around them to do theirs, incredible things can happen. Productivity increases. Stress decreases. Customers are happier. The entire operation runs smoother.

The opposite is also true.

When employees don’t know their responsibilities, lack confidence in their abilities, or require constant supervision, business owners find themselves stepping in to finish tasks, solve preventable problems, and carry burdens they shouldn’t have to carry. Instead of leading the business forward, they’re stuck dragging it along.

The roofing crew reminded me of something simple but powerful: great teams aren’t built by accident. They’re built through training, accountability, experience, and a shared commitment to doing the job right.

Maybe that’s why it’s worth occasionally stopping to watch people work.

Whether it’s a roofing crew, a construction site, a restaurant kitchen, a mechanic’s shop, or a landscaping company, there is something to be learned from people who take pride in their craft. Sometimes the lesson isn’t even about the job they’re doing.

Sometimes the lesson is about discipline. Sometimes it’s about teamwork.

And sometimes it’s a reminder to take a hard look at ourselves and ask a simple question:

Am I helping my team move the job forward… or am I the reason it slows down?

That’s a lesson worth learning from a roofing crew!

Waiting in Queue of Life

You ever sit on hold during a phone call or stuck in a drive-thru line and start thinking, this is taking way longer than it should?

You check the clock. You shift in your seat. You start debating… Do I hang up? Do I pull away? Or do I just keep waiting?

Lately, that’s exactly what my life feels like.

Like I’m in a queue. Waiting.

Waiting on answers about my health. Waiting on doctors to decide what comes next. Waiting on someone else to come up with a plan for my life.

I’ve done everything I’ve been asked to do… and I’m still here.bStill waiting.

And then there’s the bigger question that creeps in when things get quiet…

Where am I actually going? How long is it going to take to get there?

And the one that hits the hardest… Do I ever get there at all?

Because I don’t mind working. I never have. I love cooking. I love creating. I love giving people something they enjoy.

But right now? I don’t get to do that.

And maybe one day I will again. Maybe I’ll get back to doing what I’m good at, what I love.

But until then… I’m stuck in the queue.

And the longer I stand here, the more I start thinking about everything I’m missing.

Not just retirement, that fantasy we all chase like it’s guaranteed, but the simple things: Travel. Time with people who matter. Sitting in a chair with a book and no interruptions.

I see people my age doing those things… and yeah, there’s a little jealousy there. I won’t pretend there isn’t.

Because while they’re moving forward… I’m still waiting for my number to be called.

They say timing is everything. That everyone’s opportunity comes at a different moments.

Maybe that’s true. But waiting has a way of messing with your head.

It makes you compare timelines. It makes you question your path.

And if you sit there long enough… it starts to break your faith in the whole process.

People love to say, “Be patient. Trust the process.” But what if the process never calls your name?

So then you start asking different questions…

Is this time supposed to be preparation? Am I building something while I’m stuck here?

Because if I’m being honest… I don’t feel prepared for some peaceful, easy life down the road.

And that’s when the hardest truth shows up. We love to blame external factors, bad timing, bad luck, things outside our control.

And sure, some of that is real. But not all of it. Some of the reasons I’m still in this line?

They’re mine. Bad decisions. Wasted money. Choices that felt small at the time but stacked up over years.

Nothing intentional. But real, nonetheless. And those things? They don’t just disappear.

They stand right in front of you… holding your place in line.

So for now… I stay on hold. In the queue.

Not because I love it. Not because I believe in it.

But because I don’t know what happens if I step out of it. And maybe that’s the real question… How long do you stay in line before you finally decide… to hang up?

My Wishlist

An Unhealthy Way to Manage

Today’s blog is an angry rant. A painful, physically and mentally painful testament to why being in charge of people is an unhealthy stressor. How the constant repetition of explaining and showing how to do things is tiresome to the point of extreme exhaustion.

Reliability is at an all time low. Accountability is nonexistent. I wish making excuses and not owning up to wrongdoings was a fireable offense!

I wish employees would do their actual jobs and stop conducting their personal business while on company time.

I wish I could convey these messages and people hear them, believe in them and actually respond and do them.

I wish, because as a child we grow up fast and are taught to believe and make wishes. I’d rather be taught at a young age that failure is real and relying on others will break you!

I wish, I could stop wishing… I write because this is my release and my way to vent… I can type without being interrupted.

Confidence doesn’t exist in people anymore. Belief in oneself is a missing trait and because of that most work is incomplete or incorrect.

My final wish is to see an influx in solid, confident and skilled workers who accept accountability and put the business first before online shopping, family matters, chatting up strangers and friends and ignoring phone calls.

It’s all wishful thinking, not because I don’t think people exist out there who do the job right, but because I don’t think many people out there actually care…..

Building Culture or Tearing It Down

“A man’s character isn’t measured by the job he has, but by how well he does the job in front of him.”

There’s a silent problem happening in a lot of workplaces today, and most people don’t even realize it’s happening.

It’s not bad management. It’s not low wages. It’s not even the economy.

It’s culture.

And culture isn’t created by mission statements, motivational posters, or manager speeches. Culture is created by what people are willing to do… and what they refuse to do.

In today’s society, too many people believe certain work is beneath them.

The janitor is treated differently than the CEO.

The dishwasher is overlooked while the chef gets the praise.

The person sweeping the floor is invisible to the person signing the checks.

But here’s the truth most people miss:

The tedious work is what keeps everything running. Floors have to be swept. Bathrooms have to be cleaned. Equipment has to be wiped down. Prep has to be done. Trash has to be taken out.

These aren’t glamorous jobs. No one brags about them. But without them, businesses fall apart faster than people realize.

You can have the best leadership, the best product, and the best marketing in the world… but if the little things stop getting done, the entire operation slowly starts to decay.

I’ve seen it happen more times than I can count.

The Family Business Trap

In family-run businesses, there’s another problem that quietly develops.

When employees don’t do the small jobs, the family steps in and does them.

The owners start to clean, wipe and pick up, where employees don’t.

Someone stays late or comes in on closed days to clean and prep what should have been done during a shift.

At first, it seems like the responsible thing to do. You care about the business, so you pick up the slack. But over time, something dangerous happens.

Employees learn a lesson without anyone saying a word:

“If we don’t do it… the family will.”

And just like that, culture starts rebranding itself.

Not because employees are bad people, but because standards are no longer enforced. The invisible work always gets done… just not by the people who were supposed to do it.

The “That’s Not My Job” Mentality

One of the biggest cultural shifts I’ve seen over the years is the rise of the phrase:

“That’s not my job.”

When people start deciding which tasks are “beneath” them, the entire system breaks down.

Successful teams…. whether in sports, the military, or business, all share one common mindset:

Everyone handles the small stuff.

The small tasks are not punishment.

They are the foundation.

When the small things are handled well, the big things become easier. But when the small things are ignored, the big things start falling apart.

Pride in the Work

Some of the best workers I’ve ever known weren’t the ones with the biggest titles.

They were the ones who took pride in whatever task they were given.

Mopping restrooms? Dusting shelves. Raking yards. Shoveling walkways.

They made sure it was all perfect and spotless. They didn’t leave a trail behind them.

It wasn’t about the job itself. It was about pride in doing something well.

That kind of mindset is rare today… but when you find it, it changes everything.

Culture Is Built Through Standards

Here’s the reality most owners eventually learn:

Motivation doesn’t build culture. Standards do. Clear expectations. Accountability. Consistency.

Not speeches. Not slogans. Not empty promises.

If the soda gun needs cleaned, it gets cleaned.

If the floor needs swept, it gets swept.

If the fryer needs scrubbed, it gets scrubbed.

And when it’s someone’s responsibility, they own it. Not tomorrow. Not when someone reminds them.

Right now.

The Hard Truth

When a business starts struggling with culture, it’s easy to blame employees.

But the truth is a little more uncomfortable.

Culture is built or destroyed by what leadership allows.

If the small jobs are constantly ignored and someone else quietly fixes them later, the standard slowly disappears.

People don’t rise to unspoken expectations. They rise to enforced ones.

Respect the Broom

A workplace becomes a stronger place to work when people respect every job, from sweeping the floor to running the company. Because when people take pride in the small things, the big things take care of themselves.

But when the small things are ignored, the entire system begins to crack.

Culture isn’t built by titles.

Culture is built by the willingness to do the work that no one else wants to do.

And sometimes the most important tool in any business isn’t the computer, the fryer, or the cash register.

It’s the hands that hold the mop.

Pride in the Small Things

I was watching a scene from A Memory of a Killer recently that stuck with me.

In the scene, a young guy finishes washing dishes and thinks he’s done. The boss checks them and tells him to do them again because they aren’t clean enough. The kid protests, saying someone else doesn’t even do dishes. The boss responds with something simple but powerful: when his own son had that job at the same age, the dishes were spotless because he had pride in his work.

When the kid shrugs and says, “It’s just dishes,” the boss gives the real lesson.

It’s not about the dishes.

It’s about being given a task and doing it right.

That scene resonated with me because it reminded me of something I learned long before I ever ran a business.

My first job started at midnight.

I worked for the city park and pool from midnight until eight in the morning. While most people were sleeping, I was cleaning bathhouses and helping with pool maintenance. It wasn’t glamorous work. Nobody was applauding the guy scrubbing floors in the middle of the night.

But looking back, those hours taught me something important: the size of the job doesn’t determine its importance. The pride you take in doing it does.

Later on, when I worked for a tree service, I learned the same lesson again. After the cutting was done, I was told to rake and sweep the yard and the street. Nothing fancy about that job either. But I made sure that place was spotless when I finished. The yard looked better than when we arrived.

That’s when it really clicked for me.

Small tasks aren’t meaningless. They’re where character is created.

Anyone can step up when the moment is big and everyone is watching. But the people who take pride in the small jobs, the unnoticed ones, the ones nobody brags about, those are the people you can trust with bigger responsibilities.

Great responsibility isn’t handed out randomly. It’s earned in the smallest tasks.

Because the way someone handles a simple job tells you exactly how they’ll handle a complicated one.

The task may be small, but the character it reveals never is.

The ABC’s of Baseball… and Life

For years, my son played travel baseball.

And during a few of those seasons, our travels took us to Aberdeen, Maryland.

What started as another stop on the travel-ball map turned into something much bigger. Not only did we face some seriously competitive baseball, but we also met a lot of great people along the way. One person, in particular, left a lasting impression on me, Billy Ripken.

Yes, that Ripken. Brother of Cal. But Billy wasn’t there to talk about stats, trophies, or highlight reels. He talked about something far more important: how to approach the game.

Billy introduced the players to what he called the ABC’s of Baseball… a simple framework, but one packed with lessons that went way beyond the diamond.

The ABC’s of Baseball

A – Abner Doubleday. The beginning. The game wouldn’t exist without him (1839).

B – Bunting. (1st learn how to hit)

C – Compete. Compete with yourself. Compete with teammates. Compete against the other team.

D – Drills. Do them right.

E – Errors. Make fewer errors than the other team and most of the time, you’ll win.

F – First pitch strike. Be ahead in the count.

G – Get better every day. Compete. Improve.

H – Hit… then hit some more.

I – Instincts. Pay attention. Learn the game.

J – Jump to the next level. Compete and get better—opportunity follows.

K – K’s. Don’t strike out. Stop swinging and missing.

L – Little things. Handle the little things and the big things take care of themselves.

M – Mistakes. Don’t make the same mistake twice. Learn from it.

N – Numbers. Play the game and have fun—don’t obsess over stats.

O – Outs. Make the routine outs.

P – Perfect practice makes perfect. Practice like a moron, you’ll play like one.

Q – Quick first step.

R – Runs. Score them or drive them in.

S – Simple. Keep it simple.

T – Thanks. Be thankful. You’re not entitled. Thank your parents, coaches, teachers.

U – Underhand flip.

V – Versatility. Learn as many positions as possible.

W – Walks. Be ready to hit, but take the bad pitches.

X – X-Factor. Give 100% honest effort. Work hard. Be thankful.

Y – Yell. Be loud. Communicate. Help your teammates.

Z – Zzzzz’s. Don’t fall asleep. Pay attention. Know what’s going on every inning.

During those long drives between tournaments, I’d go over these ABC’s with my son. Over and over. At the time, I thought I was helping him become a better baseball player.

What I didn’t realize was that these “rules” were teaching him how to be a complete competitor, on and off the field.

Then baseball ended.

High school wrapped up. Uniforms were hung up. And suddenly, real life was standing on the mound.

Fastballs came in the form of responsibility. Curveballs showed up as setbacks. And there was no coach calling time-out anymore.

But here’s the thing…

Just because baseball ends doesn’t mean the ABC’s stop applying.

Take a second look at Billy Ripken’s ABC’s, but this time, step out of the batter’s box and into the workforce. Into school. Into adulthood. Into life.

Compete.

Get better every day.

Do the little things right.

Be versatile.

Communicate.

Be thankful.

Give honest effort.

Don’t make the same mistake twice.

That’s how you earn a promotion.

That’s how you level up in school.

That’s how you grow as a person.

I relate these ABC’s to my life every single day. And my hope in sharing this is simple: maybe you take something from it. Maybe you apply it yourself. Or maybe you pass it on to someone who needs it.

Because after all—

life and baseball really do go hand in hand.

When Everybody’s Here But Nobody’s All In

Today, if employees show up for a shift, owners call it a win. But winning the attendance lottery isn’t the same as having a crew that actually works.

Restaurants are short-handed everywhere, and that used to mean one thing: more money for the people who showed up ready to hustle. Now? “Short-handed” too often equals “one-dimensional” employees.

Example: no dishwasher tonight. A line cook jumps in to wash dishes, great… except now they’re unavailable to run the line. The kitchen stops being a machine and becomes a series of improvisations. ONE DIMENSIONAL.

If everyone understood teamwork, really understood “get-shit-done” and helped each other, the kitchen would hum. But I’ve watched us try to teach teamwork for more than a decade. I’m past “train more.” We’ve trained. We’ve written memos. We’ve spoken one-on-one. We’ve followed up. Some of these folks have been here 11 years and came from corporate gigs where micromanaging was normal operation. This is not ignorance.

So what is it? Defiance? Laziness? A refusal to care? I don’t know. What I do know is this: I can control me. I can control expectations and consequences. I can’t control someone else’s choices … but I can decide whether those choices keep a job.

This business will survive. We’ll be short for a season, we’ll hire, and we’ll rebuild standards. But there has to be accountability. We need to implement a demerit system: three documented failures to perform essential tasks and you’re out. No drama, no opinion, just standards, enforced.

If you care about your job, show it. Restock the line. Put the next shift in a better position than you found it. Teamwork isn’t a warm, fuzzy idea, it’s the difference between a smooth service and chaos at 7 p.m.

We can keep doing the same thing and expect different results. I’m not that hopeful, or insane. I’m that done. Time for consequences.

Positivity Posts and the Reality of Running a Business

Every morning starts the same: I grab my coffee, scroll through social media, and like clockwork, LinkedIn hits me with a wall of motivational posts. You know the ones: “Hire people you can learn from!” or “Don’t micromanage, trust your team!”

At first, it feels inspiring. Those bright graphics, powerful quotes, and feel-good fliers promise a world where leadership is effortless and teams run like well-oiled machines. But then I pause and ask myself…. what does it really mean?

Because here’s the truth: you can post all the “how to be the best leader” quotes you want, but how does a business grow when no one’s applying for the jobs? And worse, what do you do when the people you do have need constant hand-holding just to keep things on track?

I’ve tried it all. I’ve trusted. I’ve encouraged creativity. I’ve stepped back to let people shine. And more times than not, it’s backfired. The meltdowns, the costly mistakes, the inability to handle adversity alone… they’ve all landed squarely on my desk.

I think back to when I lived down south, scrambling for a place to stay after my roommates left post-hurricane. A boss took me in… let me stay in her garage apartment just so I could keep working. I showed up every day, hungry to learn. Then there was the boss who taught me everything I know about restaurants and bars. He didn’t see a lost, rebellious kid, he saw potential. And he bet on me.

That’s the kind of leadership I remember. The kind that invests in people, not just platitudes. This is the kind of leader I want to be.

So, when is enough enough with all the motivational fluff?

Where are the real posts, the ones that admit no one’s applying, that training feels like Groundhog Day, and that micromanaging isn’t about control, it’s about survival?

Until I see those, I’ll keep scrolling past the positivity posts, knowing that, in the real world, hope doesn’t run your business. Hustle does.

Learning Money Lessons 30 Years Too Late

Most people my age are looking at retirement like it’s a light at the end of the tunnel. They’ve got 401(k)s, IRAs, or healthy savings accounts waiting for them. Some are even stepping into early retirement, planning trips, downsizing homes, or just finally exhaling after decades of grinding.

Me? That’s not my story.

I don’t have a 401(k). I don’t have a big savings account. I’ve got maybe $30,000 sitting in a Roth IRA, and that’s it. Retirement isn’t in my cards, at least not in the traditional sense.

The hardest part? Watching friends my age (and some younger) cross the finish line while I’m still in the middle of the race. They’re prepping for comfort and freedom, while I’m prepping for another shift at work.

And I’ll be honest: it’s no one’s fault but my own. In my 20s and 30s, I didn’t think about the future. I treated life like an amusement park… full of fun, reckless rides, and no concern about the ticket price. I wasn’t guided, I wasn’t taught, and I never took the time to learn how to set myself up for success at this stage of life.

Now here I am, 50-something, staring down the reality that I will never know the kind of freedom my friends are stepping into. Free from work. Free from debt. Free to just live life on their own terms.

But here’s the thing, regret is only useful if you turn it into fuel. I can’t rewrite my past, but I can do two things:

Keep figuring out my own way forward, even if it’s not conventional. Teach my son what I was never taught, so his future doesn’t look like my present.

If I can help him avoid my mistakes, then maybe all this struggle has purpose. Maybe the legacy I leave isn’t about money, but about perspective.

Because while financial freedom might not be waiting for me at the end of this road, wisdom is. And wisdom is worth passing on.

But let’s be real, wisdom doesn’t pay the bills, and it sure as hell doesn’t buy you freedom or time. My wisdom comes at a cost: the price of my own freedom. If my son cashes in on it and builds the life I never did, then maybe that’s the only kind of retirement I’ll ever truly get… knowing he’s free, even if I never was.