why freddy?

There really is a Freddy.

He’s 75 now. Retired. Big smile, big dimples, big personality. He loves good food, good coffee, a good cigar, Cuban food in portions that are probably too large, road trips, old stories, history, and making people laugh.

He’s my dad.

And he has absolutely no idea I named this company after him. Yet.

Growing up, I didn’t see my dad every day. My parents divorced when I was three, so our every-other-weekends were meant to count.

We watched COPS. We ate really well. We took road trips to Florida and spent summers on Lake Winnipesaukee fishing, boating, tubing and jet skiing.

My dad became interested in computers early—really early. Long before any of us had one sitting in our pocket. At first it was a hobby, or maybe an obsession, and then it became his passion.

I watched him build a name for himself selling computers, computer parts, software and pretty much anything else you might need to make one work. I spent hours helping him with the very important work of labeling floppy disks.

He started out setting up at flea markets on weekends and eventually worked his way up to having a storefront of his own—one he was really proud of.

But when I think about his business now, computers aren’t really what I remember. I remember the people.

Someone would walk into his store— “Hey, Fred!” And without missing a beat, he knew their name right back.

He knew his customers. He knew his employees. He treated people well. He listened. He joked with them. He made people feel like old friends.

He could sell just about anything. Not because he had some brilliant sales technique. People trusted him. They liked him. And he understood something about people that I don’t think he ever had to explain to me.

Years later, I found myself in sales. And once I found my footing, it felt almost strangely natural.

I wanted to know my customers. I wanted to understand their businesses. I wanted to know my team. I listened for the things people weren’t necessarily saying out loud. I built relationships. I solved problems. I found a way to make things work. I loved my job and the sale became the easy part.

For a long time, I thought that was just how I did business.

Then I started building this company. I kept describing what I wanted it to be.

Personal. Curious. Relationship-driven. A little unconventional.

A place where listening matters. Where people feel understood. Where nothing is automatically black and white. Where we’re willing to question the usual way of doing things when a more thoughtful approach makes sense.

And somewhere in the middle of explaining all of this, I sat back and thought— Holy shit. That’s my dad.

Freddy. That’s what my Abuela called him, in all different tones, depending on what she needed or whether she was happy or upset. I can hear her voice to this day.

And suddenly, there wasn’t another name this company could have had.

I spent my career learning how to understand people, build trust, solve problems and make deals.

It turns out I’d been watching someone do it my entire life.

I just didn’t know I was taking notes.