Everyone has a childhood hero, someone who inspires and guides you through those early years. For me, that hero was Data from the movie The Goonies. He was a supporting character, the nerdy inventor kid. Smart, funny, humble—and always saving the day for his friends.

I think I connected with him so quickly because, a few years before, I realized I wanted to be an inventor too.

When I was just six years old, my parents sent me to my first summer camp. I was terrified. I was the smallest kid among hundreds, and I had no idea how I was going to survive not knowing anyone. To my surprise, from the very first day, I became the camp’s go-to technician. I owe that to my dad, who, before I left, taught me how flashlights worked. Since I was the only one who knew how to fix them, everyone came to me for help. Believe me, those 80s flashlights were notoriously unreliable, and almost everyone had a problem with theirs. Thanks, Dad!

Now, as an adult, I can say that I’ve fulfilled the dreams of my childhood. My path has been clear since then: I became an electronic engineer and had the privilege of working for some of the most incredible and iconic engineering companies in the world, contributing to projects involving aircraft, satellites, and high-speed trains. I’ve always been surrounded by brilliant minds, constantly learning from them. But in a way, I’ve always felt that my childhood hero, Data, would have pushed the boundaries even further.

It was March 2007, and I had just finished building my first MUSOTOKU power supply. Although I was proud of the result, I had no idea that it would eventually be used by thousands of tattoo artists. I showed the prototype to my friend Hector for feedback. He was heavily involved in industrial design, but he also happened to have worked as a studio manager for many years. After seeing it, he immediately took me to the tattoo parlor of a close friend, convinced that I had to adapt the prototype for tattoo machines. From there, things snowballed: I met people in the industry, visited tattoo studios, and a couple of months later, I found myself at the Barcelona International Tattoo Convention, sharing a booth with another machine builder.

There I was, standing by my power supplies, wide-eyed, learning from my seasoned neighbor, and eager to talk to the passing artists. Then, a young French guy and his girlfriend stopped by my booth. After an animated conversation, they decided to buy the very first MUSOTOKU power supply.
That was a special moment for me. My heart was pounding so hard it could be heard from ten feet away, but I tried my best to appear professional and accustomed to sales. Meanwhile, in my head, I kept repeating, “It’s happening, it’s happening!” It was an emotional moment, and even today, I still get nervous when I talk about it.

Although I had followed my passion for building things since childhood, I realize now that I had always played it safe, following a grounded path. I had never dared to take flight because I was afraid. But from that moment in Barcelona, I felt free, alive, and adventurous again—like a child.

I kept that first money in my pocket and didn’t touch it until I got home. Then, I placed it in a special red box with a funny label that reads “GOONIES,” and I carefully put it inside my drawer. I’ve never spent that magical money that helped me believe I could fly. Sometimes, when I open the drawer to look for something and my eyes land on the little red box, I can’t help but think about that boy fixing flashlights. Somehow, it all makes sense, and I feel that everything has worked out because I’ve stayed true to what I love the most.