In 1977, the hit TV show Happy Days aired what would become its most notorious episode. 

With ratings in free fall, the producers tried a desperate move to save the show: they had their iconic character, The Fonz, clad in his trademark leather jacket, water-ski up a ramp and jump over a shark. Yes, a literal shark.

That moment of pure desperation spawned the phrase 'jumping the shark' - when something that was once great takes such a desperate turn that there's no coming back. The point of no return. The beginning of the end.

While Fonzie's stunt marked the beginning of the end, mine marked the beginning of something else entirely.

Liquid Courage 

I'd been day-drinking heavily with my buddy John when the email came through. 'We'd like to have a phone interview with you this afternoon...' 

The company was in an industry I'd never heard of, paying pretty well for doing something that sounded too good to be true.

In my slightly altered state, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling:

Is this a scam? It had to be, right?

Within minutes of getting the email, I traded paraphernalia for my laptop and legal pad, pulling up my resume to remind myself who I was. 

I needed to find out for myself if this was a real job opportunity - I couldn't let doubt or my less than stellar state be an excuse for postponing or tanking it.

Dacious

The voice of reason had shown up. It was time for Dacious Mode - my nickname since freshman year of college, short for Claudacious. It's who I become when I need to talk myself off a ledge or into something big.

Truth is, I didn't exactly have a sterling track record back then.

I'd been fired from multiple jobs, always seeming to need a certain kind of boss who 'got me' - though I wouldn't understand why until many years later when I discovered my dyslexia.

In the Soup

The role was in class action settlement recovery - basically helping major corporations recover big money owed to them from federal class action settlements & litigation. 

As I started telling people about the new opportunity, the skepticism was universal:

'Yeah, that definitely sounds like a scam.'

'I've never heard of that industry - are you sure it's real?' 

'What kind of protections are in place? Can you go to jail?'

Shark-Cuterie

Turns out the company was pioneering the industry. 

I can still remember having to explain to Fortune 100 attorneys what we did and have them wonder if we were for real.

Fourteen years later, I'm one of five partners still facilitating class action settlement recovery for global corporations. 

The flexibility of being self-employed means I can dedicate many hours each week to Powered by Dyslexia. 

And even better? I'm still working with many of those same skeptical attorneys who've become loyal clients over the years.

Who knew serving up class action settlements would be my perfect platter?

Movers & Shakers

Here's what I've learned about Jumping the Shark: 

Sometimes what looks like desperation to others is actually your intuition trying to break through. 

When you're dyslexic and over 30, that messy path you've been on - the one that makes others raise their eyebrows? It might just be leading you to your Zone of Power.

I didn't know I was dyslexic back when I took that interview.

I just knew I needed something different, even if I couldn't explain why. 

That's the thing about dyslexic minds - we often need to take paths that others don't understand. 

What looks like Jumping the Shark to them might be your next best move.

TV Shark Jumper Jumps the Shark IRL

Oh, and here's a plot twist: The Fonz himself - Henry Winkler - was diagnosed with dyslexia at 31. 

Like so many of us, he spent years feeling 'stupid' and 'lazy,' struggling to read scripts and relying on improvisation to get by. 

After his Happy Days shark jump, he became a prolific children's book author and champion for dyslexic kids.

Shark Twist 

Here's the thing: I didn't have my first 'real' office job until my mid-30s.

Before that, I’d been a dishwasher, warehouse worker, potter, landscaper, and bouncer. 

Walking into that first office, I was terrified and felt completely unqualified.

But looking back, every one of those random jobs taught me something I'd need later.

So the next time someone suggests you might be Jumping the Shark - taking that weird opportunity, making that unconventional move, starting over in your 30s, 40s or later - just remember…

Falling Up 

Fonzie's shark jump signaled the show’s decline.

Yours marks a whole new beginning.