Who the fuck is Dan Leffelman?
Delete. Ignore. Repeat.
It's fall 2023, and I'm doing what any self-respecting farmer does - actively avoiding sales calls.
Our Google reviews are popping, which makes us catnip for ag sales reps.
Among them, this guy from Sound Agriculture is trying to reach me about something called Source.
Delete. Ignore. Repeat.
But Dan, this beautiful bastard, he's craftier than your average sales rep.
While I document the truth about mental health in agriculture and find ways to do more with less, he's reading every word. And he's not just reading—he's become my first paid subscriber.
Talk about feeding a writer's ego.
Here's where it gets weird: Dan wasn't just buying my subscription - he was reading my playbook on how to sell to me.
Every post about sustainability, every rant about efficiency, every gonzo tale from the tractor cab was a manual titled "How to Get Adam to Buy Your Stuff."
The irony isn't lost on me.
For 38 years, I chased money like a mouse after the last kernel in the bin.
Made every decision with dollar signs in mind. And you know what? I stayed broke.
Let me tell you about broke - not the "maybe skip eating out this week" kind of broke. I'm talking bankruptcy broke. The kind where you're sitting in a lawyer's office, watching your dreams get reduced to line items on a filing.
The broke that makes you question every decision you've ever made.
But here's the thing about hitting rock bottom - you learn what matters.
Money? Sure, it matters.
But purpose? That shit's priceless. And there's something weirdly liberating about having your worst fear come true and realizing you're still standing.
So here's Leffelman, leading with relationship and purpose—basically doing everything I was preaching but hadn't fully embraced myself.
So, finally, I figure I owe my biggest fan at least a phone call. Next thing you know, I'm headfirst researching Source, this product that's all about doing more with less.
The science geek in me is intrigued.
The farmer in me is skeptical.
The guy who just went through bankruptcy is thinking about margins.
When I say research, I mean I went full conspiracy theorist. I wasn't just reading about the product - I was diving into Glassdoor employee reviews, hunting for any red flags or hints that this was just another sleazeball snake oil operation.
Instead, I found a company full of scientists who were as obsessed with soil health as I was with trying to avoid sales calls.
But seeing wasn't enough - I had to know more.
Next thing I knew, the whole Riopelle Seed crew was flying first-class to Kansas City for Sound's Dealer Kickoff.
Well, almost all of us. My fiancée Sheri Oteri lived her own Home Alone airport saga, doubling back for a forgotten ID and catching the red-eye in coach. (There’s a 44% chance I'll be sleeping on the couch for mentioning the travel hiccup.)
Meanwhile in KC, we're watching their CEO, Adam Litle, talk about the future of agriculture like he was reading my mind.
We met the scientists responsible for testing every AMF product on the market until they found Blueprint, the perfect partner to kick Source into Hyperdrive.
These weren't just salespeople - these were ag revolutionaries in lab coats.
People ask why I'm so comfortable being an early adopter of new ag tech. The truth is, I've already lived through my worst fear - that bankruptcy. Turns out it sucked, but it didn't kill me. Being broke isn’t as scary as they make it out to be. The most challenging part is skipping the key lime pie at dessert.
Now taking risks on things I believe in? That's just Tuesday.
The universe has my back; I know how to rise again even if I fall.
The thing about change is it rarely happens alone. While I'm out here evolving from a desperate dollar-chaser to whatever I am now, I'm watching the same shift in agriculture.
Just the other week, I interviewed a young farmer named Kolby. The excitement in his voice when talking about soil biology was different—like looking in a mirror and seeing the future instead of the past. He wasn't afraid of change. He was hungry for it. Here was this kid lighting up about microbial activity the way I used to geek out over yield monitors. Watching him, I saw the future of farming, and it looked very different from its past.
Here's the truth about being an early adopter: it's lonely as hell.
While everyone else is doing the same old dance - more inputs, costs, and stress - you're trying to convince them there's a better way while they blast you with labels.
Scumbag.
Loser.
And worst of all, Snake oil salesman (S.O.S).
It's like being the first guy (or just a regular guy in 2024) to suggest maybe the earth isn’t flat.
Good luck with that, buddy. Many more people than you think believe this place is just a giant frisbee.
How can one argue with such a thing?
The wild part?
Farmers all over the country are already using tools like Source.
We're like a secret society of agricultural revolutionaries, each of us in our tractor cabs, running experiments that would make our grandfathers scratch their heads.
But here's what I know: I've seen Source and Blueprint work in our fields, corn row after corn row, all summer long.
Not in some glossy sales brochure, but in actual dirt, with actual crops, with our own yield monitors telling the story.
We got mad scientist with it — cutting nitrogen here, tweaking phosphorus there, treating our fields like the world's biggest experimental cookbook.
And the yields? They kept coming.
Is Source some miracle grow?
Hell no.
Will it work everywhere, every time?
Also no.
You might not see much difference if your soil's already singing soprano with perfect fertility. But that's precisely the point - if you're not seeing a response, it's telling you something valuable: you can pull back on those fertilizer inputs.
In a world where every dollar counts, that's not just data - that's freedom.
Add Blueprint to the mix, and things get interesting.
Let me geek out on you for a second: Source is like a microbe whisperer, mimicking something called a strigolactone—nature's version of a 'help wanted' sign. When your crops need nutrients, Source signals the billions of microbes already living in your soil to deliver them.
Think of it as Uber Eats for your plants, but the drivers were there all along.
Blueprint? That's your root system on steroids. It brings in beneficial fungi that expand your root network so dramatically that you have to see it to believe it.
Together, they're like Batman and Robin, if Batman and Robin were really good at moving nutrients around underground.
This stuff was interesting enough to get me to Kansas City, not just for the barbecue (though that didn't hurt). There, I met the Sound squad: Rich Haynes, their video virtuoso who makes ag tech look like Hollywood; Ryan Harder, the kind of agronomist who can explain soil science so clearly you'd think he was talking about last night's ball game.
And the dealers?
Man, these weren't your typical ag salesmen. John 'Don't Tell Me My Tractor Is' Rusten from P2P Ag Services in northern Minnesota and Brad 'Never Met a Microbe He Didn't Like' Naplin, both diving deep into the microbial mission.
These guys weren't just selling products - they were building the future of farming, one field at a time.
It was like finding my tribe - a bunch of ag revolutionaries who saw the same future I did, just with better barbecue sauce.
So here we are, planning next year's shift from testing to tweaking. The proof is in the yield monitors, and we're done asking "if" this works. Now, we're hunting for that sweet spot - that perfect balance where less truly becomes more.
And folks, that's just the beginning.
Imagine a future where we don't need fungicides because an army of microbes is doing what nature intended - keeping plants healthy from the dirt up.
It's not science fiction; it's just science waiting for us to catch up.
You want to know the craziest part of this whole story?
That persistent sales rep I kept ghosting?
Dan Leffelman has become one of my closest friends. We've got a Snapchat streak pushing 300 days - who saw that coming?
From "Delete. Ignore. Repeat" to daily snaps of life on the farm, sharing wins and losses, jokes and dreams.
Here I am, a guy who spent decades chasing dollars and coming up empty, now standing on the front lines of an agricultural revolution with a tribe I never expected to find. All because one beautiful bastard decided to become my first subscriber instead of just another voice in my voicemail.
Sometimes the best sales pitch isn't a pitch at all - it's just someone who gives enough of a damn to stick around, to read your story, to see you as more than a potential commission.
Dan didn't just sell me on Source; he showed me a different way to be in agriculture. A way that puts relationships before transactions, purpose before profit.
These days, when my phone rings and I see Dan's name, I don't hit delete. I answer with a grin, usually with, "What's up, you beautiful bastard?"
From ghost to friend.
From skeptic to believer.
From chasing dollars to building something that matters.
Not bad for a story that started with me ghosting a sales rep, huh?
Delete. Ignore. Repeat?
No.
These days, it's more like Connect. Grow. Thrive.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving!
Bye for now. 🌱
Somebody's cutting onions in here 😠I can't snap you looking like this 💘
This is fantastic writing. Hamish Mac doesn't stand a chance against your AG on substack quest. I believe you will be the farmer that makes it happen!