Oprah Called, She Wants Her Pedestal Back (I Was Using It for Chili)
I stopped selling answers. Here's what I'm doing instead to build a thriving "hot dog cart" kinda life + business
You launched a hot dog cart. Congrats! 🥳
Stick with me here; this wiener-centric metaphor is going somewhere with a great view, I promise!
You’ve got the cart. You’ve got the ketchup. You’ve got buns so fluffy they’d make an angora rabbit jealous. You even bought a neon sign that says, “Frankly the Best!” because you’re clever like that.
But…nobody’s showing up.
You’re standing there all by yourself, flipping your sad foot-long wieners on the grill, wondering what the hell went wrong.
Then someone walks by and says, “You know what would really hit the spot? Chili dogs.”
So, you add chili.
Then, a customer explains what an abomination it is that you don’t offer french fries or ranch dressing.
So, you add both.
And then someone else says, “What about vegan dogs?”
So, you add those, too.
Before you know it, you’re juggling 15 different condiments, 7 kinds of weiners, and 12 add-on side dishes, freaking out over profit margins, trying to remember what your family looks like, while crying into a pile of soggy sauerkraut because you’re doing everything…and yet, nothing feels good or sparks growth.
As you sit there drowning in chili, ranch, and existential dread, you wonder if anyone ever really makes it in the “hot dog cart” business — or if it’s all just one big scam invented by condiment companies.
Progress comes with a side of support.
That’s when it hits you: It’s not that your hot dogs suck or that you didn’t offer enough or try hard enough.
It’s that you’re standing behind the cart, alone, trying to solve problems you didn’t even know existed until a stranger (you didn’t ask) with mustard on their shirt pointed them out.
You don’t need more shit to sell toppings.
You don’t need another course, PDF, webinar, or program menu.
You don’t even need to figure out how to make a whole new idea work vegan ranch.
What you need is a support system to say, “You’re not crazy. You got this. Step back, take a breath, and let us help you carry the ketchup for a minute.”
People who get you. Who get your cart-sized ideas of success. Who build you up. Who genuinely invest in your vision. Who remind you that you’re not insane for dreaming big. Who help you see what’s worth keeping on the menu + what’s just adding fuckloads of stress.
Because while running out for some late night snacks can be a certifiable solo-mission, running your hot dog cart (a.k.a. business) is NOT.
SOLOpreneur doesn’t mean you have to do this alone. It’s mean you OWN THIS alone.
That’s a big distinction… and the gaping black hole we’re constantly falling into.
The karaoke analogy that explains community.
Progress doesn’t come from knowledge alone; it comes from having the people + genuine support you need to actually do the scary shit — learning as you go.
Think of knowledge like the karaoke song you’re going to nail.
You’ve memorized the lyrics, practiced the high notes, and you’re ready to blow everyone away with your rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.
But when you get on stage, you freeze. You fumble the first chorus. The screen is moving so fast you’re flung into a full-blown panic, shouting, “GALILEO!” at the wrong time while the crowd looks on in horror.
Now imagine, you’ve got your buddies or BFF’s up there with you — hyped, harmonizing, and willing to shout-sing the tough parts right along with you. Suddenly, it’s not a mortifying performance. It’s a cherished memory. A win. A fucking moment where it felt like magic happened… regardless of how hard you butchered the pitch.
That’s the difference support makes — it’s the buddies + BFF’s in your business who sing without shame when you can’t hit the note to save your life.
Connection beats content everytime.
I could crank out 100 PDFs + call them a course. I could give you a $5K to-do list that’s so detailed you’ll have to call it a full-time job. I could sell lies packaged as concern and upsell you into becoming “just like me.” But would any of that actually HELP YOU?
Of course not, but that’s the kind of solutions we turn to when progress isn’t happening.
What we need isn’t more stuff.
It’s not more content, more busywork, or another guru promising their 12-step system is The One that’s going to turn our hot dog cart into a 14-figure empire while we sleep 19 hours a day + travel 10.5 months a year.
What we need is a support system that makes us feel whole, not homework that makes us feel inadequate. I call this RX, ooey-gooey human connection.
You need a space where you can show up as your messy, imperfect, brilliant, overwhelmed self and feel like you’re safe. Where people build you up, take a genuine interest in your goals, brainstorm with you, and remind you that you’re not just running a business—you’re building a life.
Oprah called, she wants her pedestal back.
I used to think my job as a solopreneur was to be the expert, the one with alllll the answers.
YOU get answers… and YOU get answers… and YOU get answers.
Like, I had to perch myself on some bedazzled pedestal, wearing a professor’s tweed jacket (with elbow patches, of course), wide-rim glasses perched on my nose, and a killer presentation, delivering pearls of wisdom to a captivated crowd.
The BIG hitch in that giddy-up: I’m not Oprah.
I’m not Brene Brown.
I’m not Marie Forleo.
I’m not Mel Robbins.
I’m barely a functioning half-baked lasagna most days.
I can’t even remember what I walked into a room for, anymore.
Who the hell decided solopreneurs had to be walking TEDTalks anyway?
After y-e-a-r-s of intense healing from the indoctrination + rebuilding my entire beilief system (no social media helped, too), I realize the world doesn’t need me to be Oprah. It needs me to be…ME.
The rule-breaking, connection-making, take-me-or-leave-me looney-tunes who can throw one hell of a party.
Not the kind where you wake up in someone else’s bathtub covered in glitter and questionable decisions, but a space where everyone feels like they’re part of something really special — a community, a conversation, a subculture, a movement.
And that’s when I made it ok to trade my imaginary pedestal + professor’s jacket in for a metaphorical cart and embrace my new role as HBIC (Head Bartender in Charge).
The pedestal of ‘expert’ just makes us more lonely.
Sure, you get a great view, but you’re miles away from the people who are going to make the biggest difference for YOU. You have to stand perfectly still like some kind of lawn ornament, or one wrong move and you’re tumbling down face-first in a very public, very embarrassing way. (Ask me how I know. No, don’t. Well, unless you like laughing at dark shit. 👋)
So, I’ve stepped down. I’ve traded the illusion of authority for the reality of connection. And let me tell you, it’s a lot easier on the nervous system down here. There’s laughter, there’s collaboration, and hell yeah, there’s occasionally chaos. But it’s the good kind — the kind that reminds you that you’re alive + that you need to find the joy hits in those mundane + oridnary moments.
I’ve stopped trying to be the expert because I want the moments that feel like magic just happened.
When all of YOU (my kindreds) start talking—not to just me, but to each other. 🪄When we share ideas, swap stories, and collaborate with each other in ways I couldn’t orchestrate if I tried.
It hit me like a rogue wiener at a baseball game: my role isn’t to teach, it’s to connect.
I’m no longer the sage on the stage; I’m the host of the party.
The one who’s here to connect you with the people who are going to spark the progress you’re looking for this year + beyond.
This huge ME-shaped shift to community + connection is rolling out inside Brandishing YOU, as I pour my heart out in this newsletter. I’ll be reopening membership to the community next month… I can barely keep my tits cool, this is just all sooooo long in the making — that I step into this “connector” role.
It feels good to do the scary shit and know my support system will have my back every holy-shit-am-I’m-doing-this step along the way.
To be able to say without an ounce of shame that… Brandishing YOU, is not a course, program, or blueprint.
It’s a community branding bar where solopreneurs around the globe gather together, plates piled high with metaphorical cheese fries, glasses full of digital courage, laughing, learning, and lifting each other up. Working toward our common dream of having it all — health, happiness, and a thriving income. And the best part? It’s not about me. I’m just here to make sure everyone’s got a plate and nobody’s hogging the ranch.
I traded content for connection + a damn good time… and here’s what I’ve learned so far:
Everyone’s hungry for connection. Whether it’s ketchup, mustard, or existential advice, you want to feel seen, heard, and valued. My job is to make sure you get that + more in a place you feel safe.
Nobody wants perfection. A slightly burnt hot dog is still delicious. Likewise, a slightly messy community can still be vibrant, supportive, and wildly inspiring. (In fact, the mess might be the best part.)
You don’t have to have all the answers. Seriously. It’s liberating. When you’re not the expert, you get to be curious, ask questions, and learn alongside everyone else. Plus, it’s way less pressure. I’m doing this shit side-by-side with you!
Fun is underrated. Life is short. If you’re not laughing, you’re doing it wrong. So we keep things light, weird, and joyful.
🥳 YOU’RE CORDIALLY INVITED TO JOIN THE PARTY! 🥳
Brandishing YOU is opened… and you better believe you’re invited!
Bring your ideas, your vision, your questions, your quirks, your stories, and your half-baked takes. Let’s make some magic together — not because I’ve got all the answers, but because we’re better when we pool our support.
The barflies and I are here to help you + each other build a business that doesn’t just pay the bills + fund our underground bunkers, but actually makes us the happiest and most whole we’ve ever been. One that gives us time for family, fun, and maybe even fostering a kitten or two.
And if you’re worried you don’t have anything to bring to the table, let me remind you: even the person who shows up with just napkins is essential. (Seriously, have you ever tried eating a chili dog without napkins? Exactly. 🤢)
Together, we’re creating something bigger than any one of us could build alone. It’s messy, it’s magical, and it’s a whole lot of fun. And honestly, isn’t that what life’s all about?
I don’t have all the answers. But I do know this:
The path to success for us solopreneurs isn’t paved with more content. It’s built on relationships, support, and a little bit of mustard + relish.
So, let’s stop drowning in overwhelm and start building a life (and business) that actually feels good. Together.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got weiners to flip… and BFF’s to shout-sing with.
Here’s to messy buns (both kinds), big dreams, and always keeping the ranch stocked,
Dre ‘Shout-Singing BFF’ Beltrami
Founder, This Digital Playground
Gangster, The Entire Internet (Since 2014)
Beer Hater, No Matter How It's Brewed (Since 1979)
Step into your YOU-SHAPED ERA: Your Brand DNA Dossier Is Waiting 🦄🦄🦄 >>>
NEW HERE? Don’t mind the mustard on my shirt. Welcome to my (Dre’s) savage, shameless, cart-sized revolution, where business bends to your life… not the other way around.
This isn’t your Aunt Betty’s Substack newsletter. This is a safe place to land + a wild place to build from.
It’s the kinda place your mom warned you about. Where it’s safe to…
⚡️ Throw f-bombs around like confetti
⚡️ Show up as you are
⚡️ Market in your pajamas, from your notes app, without a plan
⚡️ Write with a stiff middle finger
⚡️ Swear off niching
⚡️ Launch things late, weird, and from the bath
⚡️ Use memes as marketing and not explain a damn thing
⚡️ Give Oprah her pedestal back
⚡️ Change your mind publicly
⚡️ Shred your content calendar and trust your gut
⚡️ Ghost your Instagram for good
⚡️ Prioritize vibes over views
⚡️ Charge what you want, just because you want to
⚡️ Take two-hour naps and call it R&D
⚡️ Be seen, be soft, be savage—all in the same damn sentence
⚡️ Never ask for permission again
⚡️ Work 3 days a week and call it full throttle
⚡️ Create in seasons, rest on purpose, and sell when the mood strikes
⚡️ Be a walking contradiction and still make it make sense
⚡️ Declare “this is how I work” and let people opt in or out
⚡️ Create content that makes your inner child belly laugh
⚡️ Build a solopreneur life that doesn’t require recovery
⚡️ Be wildly visible + deeply private at the same time
⚡️ Leave money on the table if it costs you your joy
⚡️ Slow down, so your soul can catch up
⚡️ Choose depth over dopamine
⚡️ Measure success in freedom, not followers
P.S. Have you taken my UNBrand DNA TestTM yet? It’s weirdly accurate, slightly unhinged, and ridiculously fun.
P.P.S. If you love a good binge, you can read all my past editions right here. If you want to support this hot dog cart-sized rebellion, upgrade to become a co-conspirator.
Want more Dre in your life? Here are some of my most loved + shared thoughts, ideas, and rants of 2025:
🔥 27 Fun, Feel-Good Ideas for Taking Your Sales & Marketing on a JOYride
10 Personality Bombs To Instantly Put More YOU In Your Newsletter
10 JOY-Hits to Make Your Business Instantly More Fun + Feel-good
If you’ve ever felt like a capitalist chew toy in a lead magnet death spiral, congrats—you’re home, weirdo! The Hot Dog Cart isn’t about growth hacks or scalable dreams. It’s a flame-throwing, margarita-soaked, stiff middle finger escape hatch to rescue your voice, your joy, and your weird-ass magic out of the jaws of the capitalist system. NO strategies. NO 6-figure flexes. NO problems dressed up as secrets. NO funnels with arms. Just liberation, one roasted weenie at a time.
I double DAWG dare you to…
This publication is NOT like the newsletters you’re used to.
The Hot Dog Cart is hosted on a gloriously human platform called Substack that has its own app + built-in social network. I highly recommend downloading the app. It’s ads-free, creator-friendly, and human AF. It’s the top shelf of safe places right now! And then, we can actually chat each other up, too. 🫶
GURLLL. I mean, all day every day 366 days a frickin' year, YES to this.
BANNNNG ON.
Analogies are my love language and this is an exemplary post!