Moonlighting Executives

Across the country, millions of Americans "moonlight" in side jobs – waiting tables, manning phones or punching cash registers – mostly to help pay the bills. But for some – even those who are top executives or successful entrepreneurs – working a second job is a matter of passion over paychecks. Just ask the veteran real-estate manager with a compulsion to build a better motorcycle in his off hours, the business financial consultant who feels the need to pass his investment savvy on to the next generation, or the health-care administrator who spends weekends crooning to wedding guests. For them, moonlighting is a way to have the best of both worlds.

It was in his travels to Russia in the early 1990s to launch an injection molding company for Clinton-based Nypro Inc. that Chairman of the Board Gordon Lankton, then company CEO, first encountered and began collecting Russian religious icons that now dominate his "free" time from the manufacturing world. The plastics pioneer with a penchant for collecting things and an affinity for wooden art objects, began buying the hand-painted wooden panels that depict scenes from the Bible and date back hundreds of years because he "liked to look at them."

More than a decade and some 230 icons later, Lankton has launched a moonlighting venture to show off his collection of icons, some of which date back 500 years. He recently bought a 5,000-square-foot building at 303 Main St. in Clinton and will renovate it over the next six months to house the Museum of Russian Icons, which he incorporated as a non-profit in January.

Lankton, 74, who served as the CEO at Nypro for 30 years before stepping down four years ago and remains at the at the head of its board of directors, jokes that he wouldn’t want his company to find out he’s spending time on the museum effort. "I’m in here 11 hours a day," he says from his Nypro office. In fact, he displays 36 of the wooden icons, which are primarily 10 inches by 12 inches and one-inch thick, on his office walls.

Lankton’s attraction to the religious works of art stems from his affection for Russian history and the Russian people, he says, which he came to appreciate after traveling there several times a year over the past decade. At first, the icons, originally created by monks, went cheap - $20-$30 at flea markets, he says. In the mid-1990s, their value climbed to the $500 range, Lankton says. And now, it is illegal to take such icons out of Russia, he says, though some can be found in Europe. But Lankton has amassed what some have said is the best collection of Russian icons in the United States, he says.

That’s where his moonlighting effort comes in. Lankton decided to create a museum, which he expects will carry a start-up price tag of $500,000, because of his regard for the icons he’s collected. "At my age, I have to start to think about what will happen to them later on," he says. "I love this collection." If he gave them to an existing museum, Lankton says, it might manage to show the icons only one month out of the year or display 10 to 12 pieces out of 230.

While he pursues the museum effort when he’s not attending to his duties at Nypro for the time being, Lankton says he plans to leave his post at the company and operate the museum himself when it opens in a year or so. "As best as a 74-year-old person can run anything," he adds, chuckling. And he may even draw a salary, though he says he hasn’t decided that yet.

Meet the tin man of toys

By day, Sandro DiDonato deals with construction material vendors, scopes out new building products and oversees the 15-person building materials division at Kesseli & Morse Co. in Worcester. But at night and on the weekends, the 47-year-old company vice president and owner can be found questing after the elusive Big Chief on a motorcycle, an antique British-made tin wind-up toy, as he plies the vintage toy market on the web and at toy shows as the head of Tin Man Toys.

It all started 20 years ago, when DiDonato’s sister spotted a wind-up duck in a movie and wanted it for her birthday. As he began searching out the toy, DiDonato became fascinated with the world of reproduction toys, the various companies that made them and the many innovations toy makers brought to the manufacturing world. In 1992, he began buying up large lots of such toys, set up a permanent booth at the indoor Auburn Flea Market, and Tin Man Toys was born. For years, he staffed the toy and hobby shop booth himself every Sunday - until the indoor flea market was closed four years ago and razed for a new shopping center. As he became more knowledgeable about toys, DiDonato’s interest shifted to higher quality reproductions and antique toys, which is all he currently deals in – mostly by appointment only and at a few toy shows.

He personally collects toy wind-up vehicles made between 1920 and 1965, mostly motorcycles – a consolation of sorts to his pre-fatherhood bike-riding days, he says. DiDonato has several hundred pieces in his collection, many British or German-made. They range in price from several hundred up to $25,000 to $35,000.

Dealing in antique toys has been a lucrative venture, as well as something he enjoys, DiDonato says. "If you have a quality piece, you can always sell it," he says. "And you will at least get your money back." The key, he has learned over the years, is dealing in quality and not quantity – and in knowing the market beyond what the collectors’ guidebooks tell you. With a start-up cost of about $5,000, Tin Man averages about $10,000 a year in income, he notes, in return for the five or six hours a week DiDonato devotes to the business.

"I’m a type A personality," DiDonato explains. "I can’t sit still." Running the Tin Man also lets him "keep my finger in the market" and stay in touch with the toy world, in case those rare collectibles - like the Big Chief - turn up. And it keeps him prepared for a longer-term goal as well. Eventually, DiDonato says, he would like to create an interactive website and set up a bricks and mortar antique toy and hobby shop when he retires from the building materials business.

Of course, that probably won’t be until he is 65. In the meantime, the biggest Tin Man challenge, DiDonato says, is to find quality items that people are willing to sell at a workable price. "With the advent of e-bay, everybody is a toy dealer," he says.

Barnstorming into a different business cycle

Douglas Cutler loves his "day job" at the helm of his Worcester real estate management company, particularly the aspect of revamping older buildings into marketable properties. As president and owner of Cutler Real Estate Management, he generates new business, oversees development projects and budgets for his firm’s management and ownership of hundreds of condo units and several hundred thousand square feet of office, industrial, warehouse and retail space – all without donning a suit and tie and with a schedule that allows time for scuba diving in Florida and motorcycling cross country.

But Cutler recently launched another business venture around something he is equally passionate about – customizing motorcycles alongside his college-age son, Jake, and girlfriend, Diane Heavey. Barnstorm Cycles, based in a carriage house at 134 Elm St. in Worcester which Cutler calls home, is an extension of something 44-year-old Cutler’s been doing since he was a teenager – rebuilding motorcycles into individualized things of beauty.

After all, Cutler points out, there are "only so many bikes you can build for yourself." And he admits to a bit of an obsession for motorcycle makeovers. In fact, back in 1992, Cutler sold off his personal line-up of custom bikes and bought a brand new Harley Davidson, determined to ride it the way it was and leave behind his perpetual custom tinkering. "It lasted one week," he says. "I tore the entire motorcycle apart. I wanted something that was more personalized."

Cutler decided to turn his interest into a business after 20-year-old Jake took an interest in rebuilding bikes over the past few years. Father and son had talked about the move for a while, Cutler says. When Jake was required to do a work project in his first year at Bennington College in Vermont, it inspired them to launched Barnstorm Cycles in January.

By July, Barnstorm had customized its first three motorcycles, two of which are on display in a small showroom at 300 Main St. in Worcester. The bikes run $16,000 to $17,000, not much more than a stock Harley Davidson, Cutler says. But those are start-up prices to draw customers. Established customizers draw larger sums, he says. The company also offers customizing parts and a line of biker clothing.

Like his real estate management job, Cutler’s hours for Barnstorm are very flexible and tend to fluctuate as a project progresses. He might be building or modifying an engine or doing some customer metal work. Customizing motorcycles the way Cutler does is a finesse business that takes time. "Each bike will be entirely different, not like any other bike, but very rideable," he says. "All three of us are riders; we want to build something that people can ride."

The business is still "pretty much in the putting money in stage," Cutler says, noting that he has invested about $70,000 to $80,000 thus far, including inventory, insurance and licenses. But Cutler predicts it will be profitable in its second year of operation.

Cutler anticipates Barnstorm’s customers to be local motorcycle enthusiasts and hopes to build on the motorcycle community in Worcester, which, he says, is "not as well organized as in some cities." While Barnstorm does have a website, he expects it to mostly be a face-to-face business. And, as avid riders, he and his partners attend plenty of bike events - such as the upcoming gathering in South Dakota that is expected to draw 600,000 people. Still, Barnstorm’s cycles are not a mass-appeal commodity and shouldn’t be, Cutler says. "In fact, that would almost defeat the purpose," he says. If Barnstorm sells one or two motorcycles a month, along with other parts and clothes, it will meet Cutler’s expectations.

Cutler has been in real estate management for 25 years in a business his father started and, he says, his 25 employees handle much of the day-to-day operations of the company. While Barnstorm Cycles is a long-time dream come true for Cutler, he doesn’t expect to quit his day job and says the start-up process has given him new insights into what it takes to get a business going against the tide of regulations and logistical hurdles. "There’s no question, if we didn’t all have other sources of income, we never would have been able to get the business off the ground," he says.

Musical moonlighting makes for wedding bliss

Rebecca Roman loves to sing, something her job as manager of admissions and liaison services for the 88-bed Whittier Rehab Hospital in Westboro gives her little opportunity to do. So most weekends, especially in the summer months, the 32-year-old health-care executive with a 40-plus-hour work week and an on-call schedule that spans seven days, takes to the stage as a lead singer in a wedding band called The Return.

It is a side job that fills the "void" Roman says she felt when she left the college singing group she was a part of to head out into the professional work-a-day world in 1996. And one that has yielded a special camaraderie with her five fellow musicians, all men, that makes performing that much more enjoyable. "It’s almost as if there’s a silent communication between us," she says of the group. "I’m always having a good time with these guys."

The Return is Roman’s second band membership since realizing she missed performing shortly after leaving college. Prior to joining them three years ago, she sang with a classic rock band out of Wilmington for several years. But, she says, straight classic rock wasn’t the ideal musical genre for her and, as she grew older, the club scene was also wearing thin. When she met the organizer of The Return, she decided to make a moonlighting change.

"I just like to always keep myself somehow in the music scene," she says.

The Return’s music spans the generations and the group travels from Maine to Cape Cod to Boston to perform. While she has had very few weekends off thus far this season and sometimes has to stay away from home overnight for far-flung gigs, Roman says she truly enjoys being in the band. "To have a nine-hour day and not have it feel like work, that’s pretty good," she says.

An added bonus to her side job, Roman says, is that it does bring in decent money that comes in handy, though she’d rather not give specifics on fees.

Roman, who lives in Northboro with her husband, has her master’s degree in physical therapy. She says she very much enjoys her day job screening patients, coordinating admissions and overseeing care for some 1,450 acute rehab patients a year and has no plans to take to the stage full time. There is, however, another side job that could put a crimp in her gig schedule come fall; Roman is expecting her first child in October. But, she says, she hopes to continue singing with the group through the rest of this wedding season and plans to return to both jobs after the baby is born. "It’s a great combo," she says, but adds that her greatest challenge is "finding a happy medium."

Changing the world, one kid at a time

Larry Lynch, CEO of Shrewsbury-based Finding Business Capital, likes to tell a story to illustrate how he happened to come up with the current hybrid of a moonlighting book venture linked to a volunteer educational campaign to teach area school kids about investing.

One nice summer day in 2000, he says, he stood in line at a convenience store to buy a New York Times. He watched the man in front of him – dressed in painter’s clothes, paint-moistened shoes and obviously straight from an early-morning job – buy a yard and a half of instant lottery tickets and proceed to scratch away a day’s pay. Lynch says it was then he decided that, while he wouldn’t dare attempt to enlighten the sizable and angry painter, he should try to reach out to today’s children to pass on what they need to achieve financial success so they wouldn’t wind up like the unlucky painter. "It occurred to me that kids need to know something about money," he says.

Lynch himself had done well in the stock market and had left the high-tech field to run his financial consulting business some years before. As he researched the idea of a program for kids, he says, he began to realize that, beyond grasping that money doesn’t materialize from ATM machines, kids could actually "become bleeding millionaires and all they have to do is put away $3 a day."

In 2003, Lynch launched a non-profit called Education for Economic Security, in which he and other financial professionals, who he trains, present a three-lesson program to fifth and sixth graders. Lynch and the other professionals volunteer their time to go into area schools. EES presented its financial program to more than 1,000 kids last year, according to Lynch. The effort gets funding from several area banks and other private sources, he notes.

Lynch’s experience with EES, for which he serves as unpaid executive director, led him to another epiphany and his current book venture. The more he immersed himself in teaching kids how to handle finances, the more he felt "a moral obligation" to pass on the same understanding to their parents. So, using $3,000 in funds from Finding Business Capital – which helps small businesses find capital – and one year of his time, Lynch wrote and began marketing a book called Help Your Kids Become Millionaires.

Lynch, who is 60, says he didn’t want to write a book and that writing isn’t something that comes easy to him. But, he says, he felt compelled to do so. "We’re talking about changing the entire economic structure of this country," he says. With his book only becoming available via his website a few weeks ago, Lynch says he’s already getting requests to do seminars on the subject. And, he says, the book and related work may well take up more of his focus than his previous financial consultant business.

"The moonlighting thing is overwhelming the other job," he says. If it does, that’s all right with him, Lynch says, since much of his consulting work centered on education anyway. "I’m doing something that I really care about," he says.

Not alone in the moonlight

Doing something they really care about is what motivates all of these moonlighters to take on a second job after their professional day and/or week comes to a close. But they are by no means alone in their after-hours toil. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 7.8 million Americans – or 5.6 of all workers – held more than one job in 2004. That figure was up from 5.2 percent in 2003 and represented the first time in a decade that the number of Americans holding more than one job increased.

While most such moonlighters do so to make ends meet, some – especially those over 55 – do so because they enjoy it, according to the Bureau of Labor. Of course, if Lynch fulfills his quest to change the country’s entire economic structure starting with today’s 11 year olds, there’s no telling what the moonlighting landscape will look like in the future.