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Daniel Rubin: Pitched into the shark tank

Joe Volpe's 10-year cliff dive into the American dream began one summer night in 1999 while he and his wife, Tracey, watched television.

Joe Volpe demonstrations his invention, the Entertrainer. (Michael S. Wirtz / Staff Photographer)
Joe Volpe demonstrations his invention, the Entertrainer. (Michael S. Wirtz / Staff Photographer)Read more

Joe Volpe's 10-year cliff dive into the American dream began one summer night in 1999 while he and his wife, Tracey, watched television.

The treadmill in their bedroom had become something of a clothes rack.

"It's too bad," she said, "that we can't use the treadmill to power the TV."

Volpe's a gadget guy - he works as the media specialist for the Cheltenham schools. Was there a way, he wondered, so the volume on the set would drop if didn't keep up the pace? That would reward the couch potatoes for working out.

"People would want that," he said.

Thus was born the Entertrainer.

Volpe doesn't remember what TV show they were watching that night, but he remembers what show he immediately thought of:

Gilligan's Island.

In particular, that episode where the Professor built bicycles out of bamboo that the castaways pedaled to generate electricity.

Volpe, who was 40 at the time, had no clue where this vision would lead him - certainly not to Vegas and Hollywood. And he had no clue that it would cause him to take out several home-equity loans and wander among the wolves that prey on those who are convinced they're sitting on the next big thing.

Wolves at the door

He credits the American Society of Inventors, a Philadelphia-based nonprofit, for steering him clear of the scams that cost the naive about $300 million a year.

It advised him about getting a patent, finding a Bensalem company to make a prototype, and then having his device produced in China, where costs were 15 times lower than in this country.

So far he's spent about $200,000. And what he's wound up with is a black plastic device that's essentially a remote control that communicates with the television and a heart monitor that you wear around the midsection. Work out at a pace that's recommended for your age, and you can hear the TV. Slow down, the sound goes south.

"It's been a very rough game," said Volpe, sitting by the fire in his Malvern living room on Thursday, four dogs at his feet. "I've had amazing ups and downs."

The most surreal up had to be driving around Los Angeles in a rented convertible with a former Penthouse Pet riding shotgun. (He'd hired her via Craigslist to be his demonstration model - she's 47 and a mother, perfect for his target audience.)

After the Volpes showed the Entertrainer at the 2006 Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas, Reader's Digest included it in the 100 Best Ideas of the Year. Someone on ESPN pronounced it "genius." Each of the Desperate Housewives got one in a gift bag at the 2006 Screen Actors Guild Awards.

The downs would include the cold feet of a home-shopping television network exec, whose encouragement had led him to have 2,000 of the devices made initially.

Sharks circling

Volpe's counting on his biggest break being yet to come. In January, he flew to Los Angeles to tape a pilot of Shark Tank, an ABC reality show where inventors pitch their products to skeptical investors.

Time ran out before Volpe could make his case, but the network green-lighted the show on the set and he was invited back in July.

When he arrived for the taping, he was heartened to realize that he was on the same lot where Gilligan's Island was made. Had to be a good sign, right?

Except the show finished its first season without airing his segment. Shark Tank recently announced it would run five more episodes. Volpe is hopeful he makes the cut. "My segment was very dramatic," he says.

All he can say is that he pitched a new product - it works with portable music players. And to get ready for the new device, he's lowering the price on the Entertrainer from $59 to $29 (www.theentertrainer.com).

Which should help clear his garage, where 1,600 boxes of his can't-lose idea are stacked to the ceiling.

"I've got to move them to make room for my next idea," he says.