About Dr. Pete
Guarding the thin line between marketing and data science—which is more like a hallway and is really pretty wide—I work on the projects that no one else understands, mostly because I don’t explain them very well. I am the keeper of the Algo History, the architect of the MozCast Project, and the watcher of all things Google. I am an avid content marketer, especially “big” content. I am just beginning to explore how my research can impact the future of our tools, and look forward to pushing that forward in 2020 and beyond.
The Story of Dr. Pete
Long ago, the gods walked the earth. From time to time, the gods played golf. Every Tuesday and Saturday, I was their caddy.
The golf of the gods exists beyond the comprehension of mere mortals, but like its human counterpart, god golf has many hazards. When the golden implements found their way into the lava traps of Mount Olympus, it was I who was sent to retrieve them.
I soon realized that the forgotten implements had value, and I began to sell them on the streets to earn a little pocket drachma. Soon, to my delight and amazement, my toga overflowed with coinage. In my hubris, I realized too late why “Zeus’s Golden Balls” had become such a popular aphrodisiac. My sacrilege was discovered, and I was cast out of Olympus in shame.
Forsaken by the gods and left to wander the earth as a human child, I came across a new religion – The CODE, and I came to study the ancient text of its initiates – The BASIC. The message of The BASIC was simple yet encompassed the infinite:
10 PRINT “Hello, World!”
20 GOTO 10
I spoke to the gods through the Oracle of TRS-80, and found a path to redemption, but this path was a perilous one. In the dark days before the Geek Enlightenment, those known as “programmers” were outcast by society, forced to spend their days in dank basements eating only Mountain Dew and Nacho Cheese Doritos (it would be years before we were graced with the smooth flavor of Cool Ranch).
I persevered, narrowly defeating the human trial known as “high school” to begin the ritual of liberal arts college. When I discovered that math began at 8am and computer science was only taught at 8pm, I did the prudent thing and double-majored in psychology.
I found the mortal brain to be a marvel – squishy and pink, but with a hint of lemon. As my journey had already taken centuries and I was accustomed to great hardship, I chose the only natural path – graduate school. Many a stack of journals did I vanquish and many a game of pool did I play over half-priced pizza and Leinenkugel.
Five years later, ornate parchment in hand, I faced the most arduous of human tasks – the horror known as “employment”. Suspicious of the strictures of large organizations since my fall from Olympian grace, I came upon the marvel known as the “start-up”. A mysterious stranger surrounded by unpacked cardboard boxes and smelling of NDAs lured me into his quest and away from the perils of steady paychecks and 401Ks.
There I toiled for 8 long years, leveraging synergies and producing cutting-edge solutions to meet tomorrow’s small-business challenges. I would soon be anointed “Vice President”, and my vices were indeed many.
But my heart was not in this thing called tradeshow management software, and soon it would be bewitched by a mortal woman. With her courage and ample paychecks, I would embark upon the greatest adventure of all – self-employment. My trials were many, and would lead me to those darkest meetings of criminals and reprobates known as “SEO conferences”. It was at one such conference that I would hear the words of the prophet, Rand Fishkin – descended from a long line of merfolk that legend has it stretches back to the Lost City of Atlantis.
The Atlantean spoke of a place called Moz and the prophecy of the TAGFEE, and I would soon find my true calling. For months, I labored among the initiates, until I discovered the power of the YOUmoz. Wielding the YOUmoz, my followers soon numbered in the two digits.
The YOUmoz led me to the “Main Blog” and soon I would beg the prophet for the rarest of gifts – a steady paycheck. In his mercy, the Atlantean granted me an audience, and my labors pleased him.
This is where my true legend begins.