Jim Peterson, often known as “Jimmy P,” dressed in jeans and a black holiday shirt, with forearm tats exposed, is looking comfortable and relaxed these days.
His stubbled white beard had taken shape nicely for the holidays, his favorite time of the year.
The Orange County advocate and charismatic executive has been attracting big headlines in local and national media outlets since May, when Microsemi Corp. closed its $10.3 billion sale to Arizona-based chip rival Microchip Technology Inc., cementing one of the most impressive tenures in OC tech history.
“It was a year of learning,” Peterson says during a wide-ranging, 80-minute interview at Talbot Grill at the Pacific Club.
“I built a wonderful company and handed it off.”
Indeed, when Peterson took the top management post in 2000, Microsemi had sales of $248 million. By the time he left, revenue hit a record $1.8 billion in fiscal 2017 as the chipmaker diversified from sectors like the military and aerospace into segments such as communications, data centers and the Internet of Things.
The strong mix attracted a sale price of $68.78 per share, a 7% premium on Microsemi’s share price at the close of trading March 1, the day the deal was announced—and a 33% premium on its Jan. 1 price, when analysts first started suggesting Microsemi was an acquisition target.
The sale, the biggest in OC since early 2016 when Broadcom was acquired for $37 billion by Avago Technologies Inc. and subsequently renamed Broadcom Inc. (Nasdaq: AVGO), was more than enough to earn Peterson the nod as our Businessperson of the Year in the technology sector.
A number of notable local funding deals led by Peterson since the Microchip deal, cemented that decision.
Philanthropy Focus
Peterson isn’t inclined to recount his financial successes—a 34-fold increase in equity value while he presided over the company—or his skills as a dealmaker, including 27 acquisitions.
Peterson, who grew up poor in blue-collar Lake Ronkonkoma on Long Island, N.Y., is far more interested in reflecting on Microsemi’s philanthropic endeavors under his watch. From the grand, like funding the demolition of crack houses in Lowell, Mass. and building a park nearby for elementary schoolers, to the more seasonal, like cramming the lobby of Microsemi’s headquarters with toys, bicycles and other gifts for less fortunate families in the area.
“That, in of itself, was one of the most productive things we did as a corporation. I can’t explain the magic of it, but it works,” says Peterson. “We always had ways to get involved with the community.”
Peterson and his wife, Sheila, also put their own money where their hearts are.
Their latest philanthropic interests include the Ecology Center in San Juan Capistrano, which is building sustainable and environmentally friendly food, water and grow projects, and Project Hope Alliance, a Costa Mesa nonprofit seeking to end child homelessness.
The couple supports several other organizations, including the Susan Samueli School of Integrative Medicine at University of California-Irvine, MIND Research Institute, Discovery Cube Orange County, Court Appointed Special Advocates of OC, Talk About Curing Autism, Pacific Symphony, Mission San Juan Capistrano, and The Academy Charter High School, a community project of Orangewood Children’s Foundation.
Then there are the board commitments, a roster that has included being a trustee at UCI Foundation; UCI’s Engineering Industry Advisory Board and Paul Merage School of Business Advisory Council; Chapman University’s Board of Trustees; and Soka University in Aliso Viejo.
“If you got you should give, and if you don’t, shame on you,” says Peterson. “It’s all about building the community.”
Capital Player
Not all his money has gone to charity. It’s also gone to the local tech funding and venture capital scene. And to the dogs.
He used some of the windfall from the sale of Microsemi to establish Peterson Capital Group, a boutique investment firm based in Irvine that’s thus far invested in three technology companies, including Irvine-based networking gear maker Lantronix Inc. (Nasdaq: LTRX).
Peterson declined to disclose the other two companies in the portfolio.
The fund is under $20 million, he adds.
He’s also a private investor, placing a few million dollars in Miramar Venture Partners in Corona del Mar and a $30 million visionary fund launched in 2016 by Aliso Viejo-based technology and life sciences accelerator OCTANe.
Despite these commitments and others, he’s still searching for what’s next.
“I don’t have the answer yet,” he says, and doubts he will. “Maybe I’ll consolidate nonprofits, I don’t know.”
Peterson’s interests extend far beyond balance sheets, 10-Ks and philanthropy.
He’s an avid golfer, though admittedly not a good one, playing a few rounds a week in San Juan Capistrano at either El Niguel Country Club or Marbella Country Club, where he’s drawn a few lectures from the etiquette police.
“The guys at Marbella think it’s Augusta [National Golf Club]. They yell at me for driving my cart in the wrong spot,” he says.
Most days are dedicated to training his new puppy, Ginger, evident by the tiny teeth marks on his hands. She’s a German Shepherd, like her older companion, Bandit. A few months ago the Peterson’s lost Tilly, another German Shepherd breed.
The heartbreak is still there.
Peterson grew up with a pair of shepherds, Heidi and Lucky, and is a big backer of shepherd rescues.
“There’s nothing more loyal than a dog,” he says. “Unconditional love.”
At night he’s enamored with a new feathered friend that’s taken up residence at his 6.5-acre property in San Juan Capistrano.
“I have an owl, a white owl,” he says as he pulls out his phone to show some photos. “This owl sleeps at this spot all day and takes off every night at 5:38. It’s insane. Something is going on.”
The encounters played into a Thanksgiving family tradition filled with five days of activities. One day, grandchildren receive books and a personalized message from a relative.
“This year I gave books on owls and I told them about this unique situation,” says Peterson, who’s also big on New Year’s resolutions.
“I can’t do the weight one because I never follow through because I love food,” he says, cutting into his Wiener schnitzel entrée topped with wild arugula greens and pickled red onions over buttered egg and dill noodles, in a lemon-caper sauce.
He’ll eat about half the hearty entrée.
“That’s my new diet, I eat half of everything,” he tells the waitress as she picks up the plate. “I don’t know if it’s going to work.”
As for the resolution, “Maybe more meditation. I love it.”
Lawsuit
Meditation is helpful when Peterson discusses the low point of his year: the aftermath of the Microsemi sale and ensuing fallout with Microchip Chief Executive Steve Sanghi, who unceremoniously cut ties with Peterson and has blasted the Microsemi regime for “extravagant spending” on corporate suites, as well as stuffing the channel and propping up revenue.
Sanghi’s public comments to investors and analysts led Peterson and three of his former executives in October to sue Microchip and its executives for alleged slander, libel and unfair business practices, a story first reported by the Business Journal.
“I never litigated against a person in my life. Somebody has to stop this behavior,” he said.
“You’re not going to defame me. You’re not going to lie to shareholders. You’re not going to do things that manipulate a stock.”
So what’s the end game here?
“I’d like to see it go to a jury,” he says. “We’ll find out where it goes.”
Before he leaves the table, Peterson half jokes about a shirt design teed up for his annual Super Bowl bash.
It reads “SOS: Shame on Sanghi.”
“I may send one to him.”
