How One Forgettable Meeting Brought Unimaginable Fame and Fortune

The untold story of how my life went from a closet geek to a household name that lasted for decades

You really don’t know who is actually knocking at your door.

Sometimes the smallest moments, the ones you barely notice, end up rewriting your entire life. Back in 1997, I was Peter Kay the unknown, the guy running CyberCom, Hawaii’s first web development company, hustling in a cramped 500-square-foot office packed with programmers and designers, desks jammed edge to edge, all of us buzzing with the raw energy of the early internet. I had no clue that a single conversation, one that seemed like just another meeting, would launch me into becoming a household name in Hawaii, shaping my path as a feral entrepreneur in ways I never could’ve imagined. This is the story of how a radio sales rep named James Avis walked into my office, sparked an idea, and set off a 20-year journey that made me a household name in Hawaii and changed everything.

The Internet Kid Steps Into The Limelight

By ’97, I was already deep in the game. CyberCom was thriving. We’d built websites for big players like KHON, the FOX affiliate, and KITV, the ABC affiliate, cementing my rep as Hawaii’s go-to internet guy. The internet was brand new, a wild frontier, and I was its poster child. KITV’s general manager, Mike Rosenberg, a calm, sharp, and funny guy who always picked up the phone on the first ring, had seen something in me when we built his station’s site. He’d asked me to do a morning news segment called *Computer Talk with Peter Kay*, where I’d lug my laptop to the studio, connect via dial-up—yeah, dial-up, before broadband was a thing—and show a live screen share on TV. It was groundbreaking stuff, teaching folks how to surf the web, reviewing sites, and demystifying this new digital world. That gig was my first taste of being a media personality, and it felt like I was riding the crest of a wave.

Radio Salesman Sets Up The Meeting

Then James Avis showed up. I didn’t know him from Adam when he called to set up a meeting. He was a Clear Channel radio sales rep, a high-energy surfer dude with a charging, serious vibe—think big waves, big ideas. His office was a riot of posters and graphic designs he’d whipped up himself, a testament to his wild creativity. James was the quintessential deal-maker, always crafting win-win solutions, and I’m grateful we’re still friends to this day. He squeezed into a corner by my desk in our chaotic office, no conference room, just a folding chair amid the hum of computer terminals. I figured he was there to pitch radio ads or something, but he didn’t push anything. Instead, he just started talking, asking me what I thought would resonate with radio listeners.

Sparking Your Computer Minute

We got to riffing. I was already doing *Computer Talk* on KITV, sharing tech tips and showing people how to navigate the internet, so I told James, “What if we did something similar on radio? Short, handy tips for using PCs or the internet, stuff people can use at home.” He lit up, his creative gears spinning. I suggested calling it *The Computer Minute with Peter Kay*, a quick 60-second spot to mirror what I was doing on TV. James, ever the innovator, tweaked it. “Let’s make it *Your Computer Minute with Peter Kay*,” he said. “Give people ownership, make it personal, it’s their Computer Minute.” I loved it. It was simple, catchy, and perfect. We wrapped the meeting, and he left without asking for a sale. I didn’t think much of it—just another chat on a busy day.

Rebecca’s Whimsical Magic Brings It to Life

A few days later, James called again. “Come to the studio,” he said. “Let’s record some sample spots. Talk about whatever you want, keep it under 60 seconds.” I was game. I’d been prepping scripts for *Computer Talk*, so I wrote a couple of short tech tips, leaning on what I knew worked on TV. At Clear Channel’s studio, I met Rebecca, their radio producer and hands-down the best female voice I’ve ever heard on air. If you’ve lived in Hawaii, you probably heard her—countless ads, that bubbly, whimsical charm, a Disney-loving soul with a laugh that lights up a room. She was meticulous, tweaking every word for perfection, and so kind, guiding me through my first-ever radio recording. We had a blast. I’d brought my laptop, tweaking scripts on the fly, and with her help, we nailed a half-dozen spots. It was fun, fast, and felt like a hobby more than a business.

Oceanic Sponsors the Package

What I didn’t know was that James took those demos and ran with them. He pitched them to Oceanic Cable (today known as Spectrum), the company rolling out broadband internet in Hawaii for the first time—a huge deal, as I’d been partnering with them to hype this game-changing tech. James sold them on sponsoring *Your Computer Minute with Peter Kay*, and just like that, Oceanic Cable’s “Roadrunner” service became the title sponsor. Those 60-second spots, packed with tips to help people embrace the internet, started airing across Clear Channel’s stations. It wasn’t just a radio ad—it was the start of something massive, one of the longest-running sponsored radio series in Hawaii’s history, stretching over 20 years. I couldn’t believe it. A random meeting had turned into a legacy.

Small Doesn’t Mean Insignificant

Inside, I was floored. I’m an introvert, not some media-hungry extrovert chasing fame. I’ve always been about the work, not the spotlight. But Mike Rosenberg saw something in me I didn’t see, pushing me onto TV. James Avis saw it too, turning a casual chat into a radio phenomenon. I never guessed those small conversations would make me a household name. I took it seriously, though. Every *Computer Talk* segment, every *Your Computer Minute* spot, I poured my heart into. I spent hours crafting tips that were helpful, interesting, and entertaining, knowing people were out there feeling “Computer illiterate,” scared of this new tech. I wanted to help them, just like I did when I launched CyberCom or built Hawaii’s first commercial website. Had I half-assed it, someone else would’ve stepped into those shoes, and the opportunity would’ve slipped away.

Everybody Knows Peter Kay

Those radio spots aired all day, every day, across Clear Channel’s stations. The TV segments ran twice a week on KITV. From the late ’90s to the early 2000s, if you were commuting, working, or just flipping on the radio in Hawaii, you knew Peter Kay. I was the guy teaching you how to send your first email, browse a website, or set up your new broadband connection. It was wild. For 20 years, I was a fixture in people’s lives. Even now, in 2025, over a decade since the last *Your Computer Minute* aired, old-timers still stop me. Just the other day at a local steakhouse, the waiter grinned and said, “You’re Peter Kay! I did a ‘Your Wine Minute’ radio spot inspired by you!” Kids who heard me on their way to school in the 2000s tell me how they grew up with me on the radio. It’s a reminder of a fame from long ago but honestly I don’t miss it. I let it go when it was time, just like I exited out of the web business years earlier. The memories, though? They’re gold.

There Is No Try. Do, or Do Not.

Here’s the thing: you never know what a single moment will become. That meeting with James, that call from Mike—they seemed like nothing, just another day in the life of a feral entrepreneur. But they changed everything. When I think back, what stands out is this: if you say yes to something, give it everything. Make it something you’d be proud to show your kids, your grandkids, or write about in a memoir like this. If you can’t deliver something worthy of your name, walk away. I didn’t know *Your Computer Minute* would make me a household name. I didn’t know *Computer Talk* would make me a local celebrity for a brief moment. But I gave them my all, and they became part of my legacy. A simple sales call can turn into a decades-long journey that touches thousands of lives. It happened to me and it could happen to you. Aloha!