Yabba-Dabba-Doo Meets West Los Angeles
When people think of a banking relationship manager, they imagine sharp suits, polished meetings, and cutting-edge fintech tools. They don’t imagine Bedrock, brontosaurus construction equipment, or a car powered by two bare feet. Yet, my career in banking has often felt more like living in the Stone Age with Fred Flintstone than gliding through the sleek world of modern finance.
Fred’s life in The Flintstones was filled with challenges: primitive tools, a boss who was never satisfied, family responsibilities, community expectations, and the temptation of quick fixes that often backfired. As I reflect on my years at Banc of California, U.S. Bank, City National Bank, and other leading regional institutions, I see uncanny similarities between Fred’s struggles in Bedrock and my own journey navigating the quarry of relationship banking.
Like Fred, I’ve often had to make do with outdated tools, lean on loyal partners, survive the pressure of bosses like Mr. Slate, and deliver results that often seemed impossible. And like Fred, I’ve learned that success doesn’t come from perfection, but from resilience, persistence, humor—and yes, sometimes yelling “Yabba-Dabba-Doo!” after closing a deal against all odds.
Fred’s car was famously powered not by an engine, but by his own two feet. Every trip required brute force, determination, and occasionally, improvisation when the “technology” broke down.
In many ways, my career as a relationship manager has felt the same. Despite working in some of the largest financial institutions, I’ve often been equipped with basic tools, simple processes, and systems that may even belong in a Stone Age museum. Instead of seamless fintech dashboards, I’ve wrestled with clashing legacy platforms that barely talk to each other. Instead of smooth automation, I’ve had to manually “push” transactions across the finish line, much like Fred propelling his rock car down the road.
Yet, like Fred, I learned that success doesn’t come from waiting for the perfect vehicle. It comes from using whatever is available, finding shortcuts, and applying sheer determination to get where you need to go.
Fred taught us that you can’t wait for the perfect technology. Sometimes you just lace up your feet, grit your teeth, and push. My greatest successes have come not because the systems were flawless, but because I was willing to do the extra work to get the rock car moving.
Mr. Slate, Fred’s boss, was relentless. He always wanted more rocks, faster, and with fewer excuses. That dynamic perfectly mirrors the world of banking management.
As I have progressed through City National Bank, U.S. Bank, Comerica Bank, Banc of California and now JPMorgan Chase, my “quarry” has been deposit and loan production. Year after year, management expected growth, regardless of market headwinds or interest rate cycles. The numbers were steep: new deposit targets rose above ten million, lending production that stretched resources, and the pressure of competing against peers and instituations in a high-stakes environment.
And yet, like Fred, I showed up with my hard hat every day. In 2022, those efforts paid off—I earned President’s Club and Top Performer honors, proving I could move mountains of rock when demanded. At U.S. Bank, the story was similar: expectations were high, but my persistence led me to rank as a multiple Annual Pinnacle Award honoree, hitting record deposit growth and securing my place among the bank’s best.
The quarry never got easier, but Fred reminded me that sometimes you survive by sheer persistence—and by laughing off the absurdity of it all.
Fred would have been lost without Barney Rubble. Barney was loyal, supportive, and always ready to lend a hand.
I’ve had many colleagues like Barney throughout my career. At U.S. Bank, working in the Private Client Group, collaboration with our chief credit officers, mortgage loan officers, and senior leaders often made the difference between closing a complex wealth management deal or watching it crumble. Together, we structured sophisticated strategies for high-net-worth clients—success that no single banker could have achieved alone.
Throughout the years, I have been fortunate to have talented colleagues who partnered with me on family office clients, ancillary cannabis businesses, and commercial real estate developers. These were complicated deals requiring creativity, compliance finesse, and a united front. Like Fred and Barney building a plan over a bowling alley beer, we brainstormed solutions late into the evening, finding ways to serve clients no one else could.
In relationship management, just like in Bedrock, survival depends on partnerships. Barney proved that loyalty beats individual brilliance, and my career has proven the same.
In many ways, my work with entrepreneurs, family offices, and next-generation wealth clients has felt the same. At Banc of California, I guided founders in emerging industries—helping them secure financing, structure growth responsibly, and avoid pitfalls that could jeopardize their futures. These weren’t just transactions; they were opportunities to help build something that would last.
My mission has always been to ensure clients leave our conversations better positioned for long-term security, stability, and legacy.
The Flintstones wasn’t just about Fred; it was about Bedrock as a community—neighbors, the Water Buffalo Lodge, and the network that made life richer.
My career has been built the same way. I thrived not only by producing new relationships for leading institutions and groups, but by being a connector in the Los Angeles business community. My relationships with family offices, developers, professionals, and entrepreneurs created an ecosystem of trust that benefited everyone involved.
Bedrock taught us that community isn’t just a backdrop—it’s the lifeblood. Relationship banking is no different: without community, there’s no trust, and without trust, there’s no business. Loyal clients who stay with you across institutions and through market cycles. At U.S. Bank, I built deep trust with clients who valued me not just for numbers, but for relationships. Some of those clients followed me years later, trusting that I had their best interests at heart no matter the logo on my business card.
In a world driven by margins and metrics, loyalty and trust are priceless.
My journey as a banking relationship manager has mirrored Fred’s in surprising ways. The world of banking can feel prehistoric at times—weighted down by systems and expectations. But if Fred Flintstone could make it in Bedrock, then I’ve learned I can thrive in banking. Success doesn’t come from perfection; it comes from persistence, resilience, humor, and community.
Fred Flintstone wasn’t perfect. Yet he was resilient, loyal, hardworking, and full of heart.
And sometimes, after closing that impossible deal, it comes from leaning back in your chair, smiling at the absurdity of it all, and letting out your own triumphant:
“Yabba-Dabba-Doo!”
Tradfi OG 