My journey began in 2004 after the MTA strike. I saw with painful clarity that while we fought for more money, the system—management and even our own union—didn’t come to the table with the same energy. I realized then: we already pay dues, why not build our own banking system? Not to dismantle the union, but to build something alongside it—ours.

The philosophy guiding this was inspired by Marcus Aurelius: “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” That strike was the obstacle—but it birthed the vision. I started with the goal of uniting 100 drivers, then 300 after reading about the Elders of Zion, and eventually 1,000 after discovering Kevin Kelly’s concept of “1,000 true fans.”

But I didn’t yet have the tools. So I studied—economics, philosophy, psychology, corporate law, real estate, entrepreneurship. I became known among the drivers as “The Professor” because I was always reading. I wrote my personal mission statement with Stephen Covey’s toolkit, and I’ve never strayed from it: Give freely and you will receive abundantly. Only what you do for God will last.

Over the years, I’ve trademarked ideas like “Pregnopoly”” (a monopoly by way of pregnancy) and challenged social narratives around family, faith, and finances. I’ve remained an iconoclast—never seeking permission, only purpose. And I found it in chili.

My father, a street hustler and former radio DJ, made the best chili in the world. He would give people a sample—just a shot—and then ask, “What do you want with that next hot dog?” That chili shot was a masterclass in micro-commitments, and I built an entire franchise model around it: Random Acts of Deliciousness. That’s where Mr. Larney’s World Famous was born.