March 28–29, 2026 · Farmington, Utah

I built a personal AI system this weekend.

Here's what it does, why it matters, and what comes next.


It listens, thinks, and talks back.

I'm wearing a small device that captures conversations. Those words flow through a system I built — hosted on servers I control — where an AI reads the transcript and decides: is this an action item? A financial mention? Something urgent?

If it's urgent, it texts my phone. If it's a task, it logs it. If it's a customer message for one of our businesses, it responds automatically.

The entire system cost me $2.30 in server fees to build. The companies selling something similar charge $300 to $1,000 per month — and they own your data. I own mine.

Four pieces working together.

The Ears

A small wearable device called Omi, clipped to my shirt. It captures everything said around me and transcribes it into text in real time. I can see my own words appearing on screen as I speak.

The Spine

A small program running on Cloudflare — a company that powers 20% of the internet. This is infrastructure I pay for and control. Nobody else has access. It receives every transcript and routes it where it needs to go.

The Brain

Claude — an AI made by Anthropic — reads every conversation with full context about my life, my businesses, my people. It doesn't just transcribe. It understands. "Scott mentioned the commissary" triggers an alert because it knows what that means for Hires.

The Mouth

Twilio — a texting service used by Uber, Airbnb, and thousands of businesses. When the AI decides something is urgent, it sends a text to my phone. When a customer texts the business, the AI can respond automatically.

One weekend. From zero to working.

12
Hours to build
$3
Total cost
$0
Monthly software fees

Compare that to hiring a developer ($150/hour) or buying enterprise software ($500+/month). I built the same thing in my parents' guest room on a Saturday night.

A timeline.

11:00 AM
Configured the Omi wearable at Emma's baptism. Created two custom apps to route audio data to our own servers.
10:30 PM
Deployed the "Skippy" server to Cloudflare. First test: spoke out loud and watched my words appear in the terminal in real time.
11:04 PM
First words captured: "She's still getting an error. That's weird." The system was hearing me debug itself.
11:45 PM
Wired the AI brain. First analysis returned: "Speaker is setting up a Twilio account. Category: work. Sentiment: positive."
12:50 AM
Set up Twilio. Sent the first text message through our own infrastructure. Skippy can now talk back.
9:06 AM
Sunday morning. Text delivered. The full loop works: voice → AI → text message. Built in one session.

Ali — here's what this means for Hires.

Imagine every customer who eats at Hires gets a text 30 minutes later: "How was your meal? Reply 1-5." If they say 5, they get a coupon. If they say 1, you get an alert on your phone immediately so you can make it right.

Imagine birthday texts with a free root beer float offer. Weekly specials with photos of the food — not an email they'll never open, but a text they read in 3 seconds.

Imagine a customer texts your Hires number asking about catering — and the AI answers instantly with your catering menu and prices, then logs it as a lead for you to follow up.

This is what I built the engine for. The restaurants paying Scroll Marketing $500/month for worse results? We can do it for $8/month in actual costs. That's the business.

Mom and Dad — here's what this means for US Appraisers.

When you schedule an appraisal, the client gets an automatic confirmation text. The morning of, they get a reminder. When the report is done, they get a notification with a link.

When someone calls and you're in the field, the AI can answer: "US Appraisers is currently on-site. We'll return your call within 2 hours. For urgent requests, reply to this text."

Your follow-ups, your scheduling, your client communication — all handled. You focus on the appraisals. The system handles the phone.

This is the same technology. Different business, same engine. I want to set it up for you today.

Why I think this matters.

Every small business in America — restaurants, appraisers, dentists, salons, campaigns, nonprofits — is paying too much for software that doesn't talk to each other. They have one tool for email, another for texting, another for their website, another for customer tracking. None of them share data. None of them are smart.

What I built this weekend is the foundation for a single system that does all of it — and uses AI to make decisions a human would make, but instantly and at scale.

Nobody else is building this at the individual level. The big companies build it for enterprises with million-dollar budgets. I'm building it for the family restaurant. The two-person appraisal company. The local political campaign.

The chains already have this technology. The little guys don't. We're building the little guy's weapon.

Time, trust, and a runway.

I can build this while working my day job, but it will take years. With six months of dedicated focus and $30,000 in operating capital, I can have paying customers and prove the model.

The technology works — I proved that this weekend. The market exists — every small business owner I talk to has this problem. What I need is the space to make it real.

I'm not asking anyone to believe in something theoretical. I'm asking you to look at what I built in one night and imagine what six months could produce.


Grandpa Victor's plaque is three feet away.

Victor Walter Foster. Nine patents at Motorola. Miniature motors that changed how the world kept time. He built things so precise they lasted decades inside watches smaller than a thumbnail.

I'm not comparing myself to him. But I am saying the Fosters build things. We always have. And Charles deserves to grow up knowing that his family creates — not just consumes.

That's why I was up all night. That's why I'm emotional. Not because I'm losing my mind. Because I finally found my lane.


Scott March 29, 2026 — Farmington, Utah
Three feet from Grandpa Victor's Motorola plaque.