Category: From The Editor

Rum oatmeal energy bars

When I was fourteen years old and my sister was twelve, my mother went back to college full time to get her nursing degree. Up until then, my mom had been the stay at home type — pretty typical of the 1970’s — but when my dad was no longer able to work due to an injury, our painfully tight budget was about to get a whole lot tighter. Which meant that at the age of 54, Velma De Morier set out to burn through a technical two year nursing degree program in one year. And then go to work as a nurse.

Now with my mother off at college all day and studying all night, my father and my sister and I had to kick in with the housework and the cooking. And since the nutritional content of my father’s famous burnt water with grey stuff, was extremely limited, I decided that this would be a good time to learn to cook.

One very simple dish that I got pretty good at was — well, I really didn’t think it had a name, but it consisted of some form of pasta, some form of frozen vegetable, a can of tuna fish and Italian dressing. I could make this fast, easily and it was probably the main reason that the four of us survived that year.

Later on, when I was in college myself, I perfected this pasta dish to actually include spices — something I hadn’t thought of before — and for pennies I could make a bowl that I could eat on for days. And then — at the end of my freshman year, I came across the ultimate recipe — Rum Oatmeal Energy Bars. And everything changed. I lived on them all through college and for a solid decade afterwards.

It’s pretty simple process to make Rum Oatmeal Energy Bars recipe and even though I haven’t made in a while, this is what you do.

You’ll need one bottle of Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum, one cup quick-cooking oats, 1/2 cup dark raisins, 1/4 cup whole-wheat flour, a stick of salted butter and —. Well, some other stuff but we’ll get to that.

Now the first crucial step— and you have to believe me on this — the absolutely very first step is that you have to begin by drinking one ounce of the rum. I know, I know, weird. But there is something about drinking the rum that allows you to taste-test the other ingredients. Without that first taste, it doesn’t really work.

So pour the rum and drink it. Done.

Now, the second step is to arrange all your ingredients on the countertop — you’ll need to be able to see everything and then go back when needed. So get a glass baking dish and place it on the countertop next to everything else.

By the way, the countertops we use in our kitchen aren’t granite countertops — which are all the rage right now — but are Corian countertops which cost us a little less but are just as good. In fact, the guy who sold them to us — I think his name was Ken — said that the resale value of these countertops is just as high as the granite ones. Actually better.

Okay, so we spread out all our ingredients along with countertop along with the one ounce of the rum. Now, I don’t know if I told you this but you have to drink one shot of the rum. — Yeah, I know, weird. But trust me it’s the only way it works. So pour a shot of the rum and drink it. Done.

Okay, now spread everything across the countertop. Your raisons, the flour, in fact — okay, this will be cool. Okay. Listen. Listen. Okay, take the flour and pour it in a bowl and hollow out the center of it — you know like a mashed potato bowl before you put in the gravy? — like this and then make little roads up the flour like this. See? See what I’m doing here? It’s like a dirt bike track. And then the bikes can climb— right up the — to the jump. See? Oh, that’s so, so cool.

Okay, now the first thing to do is pour a shot of the rum and drink it. I know, I know. Shut up. Just do it. So you pour the shot and —. Done.

Okay, now you take the ingredients, all of them — the raisons, the cordless phone, the flour dirt bike track and some other stuff and you just fan it all across the countertop. See, just fan it.

Now these aren’t the fancy granite countertops like I wanted. Nope. Not at all. Debbie wanted to save money. So her and that jerk Ken said — oh Corian is just as good.

Yeah? Well —. Bull. Who says, hey come over and see my Corian countertops, huh? Who? I’ll tell you who. Nobody. That’s who. That’s exactly who. No-frickin’-body. That’s who.

So you spread everything out over the crap, cheap, I don’t work hard enough to afford granite, countertops and you pour yourself a shot of the rum.

Yeah, well shut up and drink it.

Okay, now you spread everything across the countertops — make sure to cover the stains and the chips that aren’t supposed to happen but always do because Ken is a liar and a looser and couldn’t tell the truth if his life depended on it. And take a shot of the rum.

Don’t make me come over there. Just drink it. Boom and done.

Okay now, did I ever show you my grandfather’s powder horn? It’s really cool and supposedly my grandfather carried it in World War I — but that doesn’t make sense because they didn’t use powder guns back then so my mother probably lying to me too.

She probably told Laura the truth about the powder horn though. Laura — she’s so perfect.

Hold on I’ll call my sister, Laura. She lives in Ohio.

Okay, I tried to call my sister but I the phone is at the bottom of the flour dirt bike track and when the phone rings it looks so cool so I left it there.

Okay, so the first step is to take a shot of the rum.

Boom. Done. Nailed it.

Okay, now this is what we’re going to do. Okay? Are you listening? Okay, here is what we’re going to do. This will work. We are going to move all the ingredients over to the dining room table and work there instead. Because that’s a solid wood table. Oak. Made in America and if we move everything in there, things won’t roll off the countertop because this counter was never installed properly and will most likely catch on fire. I mean it — mark my words — this countertop will kill somebody! It’s an unholy, godless countertop installed by Nazi’s — I am so serious that one guy had a Nazi tattoo — he said it was a birthmark but it looked just like a swas, a swizzle, a swarmi — whatever those nazi things are called. It looked just like it.

Okay, so we’re at the dining room table now and we have everything spread out. Okay, we take a shot of the rum. Done. Okay. Okay, so — we spread it all out over the surface of the table and —. Wait.

Now this is a good time to eat the raisons. Raisons are good for you and besides your stomach is probably feeling a little off right now. So eat the raisons and then do another shot of the rum.

Pow. Done.

Now, when I was in college I had the chance to go work on a long liner — you know one of those big fishing boat thingees? For the summer. For the entire frickin’ summer. But know what? Guess what. Guess. Go ahead. Ready? I didn’t go. Nope. Not me. I had no reason not to go either. All my friends went. All of them. Buckethead, Bear, that — that other kid, I can’t remember his name. But not me. Oh no, not me. I chickened out and worked in a pharmacy for the summer instead— now that was fun. A pharmacy.

Okay, so here is what we’re going to do. We’re going to move all the ingredients from this fine American made oak table to the couch because that’s more comfortable and because I taped a bunch of Lost in Space episodes and we can watch them all in there while we cook.

Debbie picked out that couch and it’s perfect for putting ingredients together on and she did a great job, didn’t she? She’s so good at stuff like that. She’s so good at everything. Everything she does. I’m so lucky to have her. I love Debbie.

Okay, so first we need to get all this flour out of the fish tank.

When —? When did we get a fish tank? Oh, wait, that’s —.

Oh, man. That’s funny. That is so funny. I thought it was a fish tank but —- but we don’t—-. Oh man that is the funniest —-. I actually thought —.

Okay, so this is tickin’ me off a little. What? I’ve got the DVR going but every time I press Lost in Space— an episode of Dancing with the Stars comes on.

Dancing with the frickin’ stars? Are you kidding me? Over Lost in Space. No way. No frickin’ way.

Okay, so we’ve got Lost in Space going and have all the ingredients spread out under the couch cushions so the turtles won’t get them. Not real turtles. Duh, I mean — , I mean —. Shoot, what’s the word? Cats. Cats. Did I say turtles? Why did I say Turtles? We don’t have turtles.

That’s funny. That’s so — so funny.

Okay, so we do a shot of the rum. Pow. Done. I am the greatest.

Now we take the other couch cushions and put them on the floor and make a little fort. This will help with the —. Wait.

Did I tell you that my mother — my mother, at the age of 79 went back to college to be a doctor to support us?

Can you believe that? At almost 85 frickin’ years old she went back to college to support all fourteen of us kids.

I love my mom.

And Debbie.

And these fluffy little turtles.

January 2, 2015
A prize from my dad. To you.

This past summer — around June, I think — I broke down and opened a Facebook account for the very first time. I didn’t want to — I really didn’t want to — but I did and I’m so glad that I —.

Wait — . I’m getting ahead of myself.

See, for many years I have been watching from the sidelines as all of this social network stuff popped up all around me. The posts. The likes. The people claiming they had thousands and thousands of friends. The — hey look at what I did today, saw today, thought today and while you’re at it —just look at me.

It all seemed a little silly and more than a little self-involved. So I made my stand. Nope. Not going to do it.

Then, this past summer we launched 543skills and I was told by the designers, the website experts and the marketing folks to — in a very nice way — get over it. I needed to get a personal Facebook page and one for 543skills.

So I gritted my teeth, clenched my fists, pushed the buttons and joined the social revolution.

Now I’ve stated before that I was absolutely wrong about Facebook. I find it fun, entertaining and not nearly as intrusive as I thought it would be. I have reconnected with old friends — a few of them in real life after not seeing them for decades — as well as developed stronger friendships with people I only see occasionally. We have organized events and activities and have more contact with neighbors than ever before. Facebook is — and yes I know there are other social networks out there, but one step at a time — incredible and I’m so glad I plugged into it.

Now with that in mind, there is clearly a Facebook Life and a Real Life and a gap often lies between them.

And just in the short time that I’ve been on it I admit I am much kinder, more involved and more supportive on Facebook than I am in real life.

I don’t walk up to people at a store and say, hey nice sweater. But I will on Facebook.

And why do my Facebook friends get to see pictures of my kids but my elderly aunt who doesn’t know what a computer is, never does? And why do I now communicate daily with the kids I grew up with but my cousin — who I also grew up with but isn’t on Facebook — I speak to a few times a year?

Did you know that since 1995, when the internet began at full steam, Americans have been sending less and less paper Christmas cards out each and every year with experts stating that they will most likely stop manufacturing them in bulk by 2020? — it’s so much easier to send an e-card or a message online.

And when is the last time, I mean the very last time, we picked up the phone and decided to actually call someone we haven’t heard from in a long time instead of dropping them an email or a message?

Soooo… Here is the challenge and here is the game.

But first, the prize.

What is it?

Well, my dad died in 1991. He left me his stamp collection — his entire stamp collection. It’s one of the few things that I have no fond memories of him of and I’d like someone else to have it. There are three solid photo books full of stamps from all over the world that he had been collecting for decades — they have been stored in a dry, safe location and has not been opened or seen the light of day in over twenty years. And no, I have absolutely no idea of the value. I just know that I have many things to remember him by and this collection isn’t one of them — and more importantly, he would get the biggest kick out of knowing that people were out there being nice to each other in order to get it.

And — . For those of you who aren’t into stamps, here is Option Two. I will publically sell the entire stamp collection publically on e-bay and send you the cash —. Again, I have no idea of the value but it should be pretty good.

So, here is your challenge.

Ready?

Live your life — your real life — like you do on Facebook. For a month

So how do you do this?

I have no idea. It’s your life. How should I know?

Maybe write a letter — a real, hand written letter to an old friend? Possibly, take a pile of printed photographs of your family to an elderly neighbor and show them to her. Maybe ask that crossing guard that you see every day what their name is, or pick up an acquaintance and take them to church with you. Like I said, I have no idea. It’s your life.

But be creative, be impactful and don’t just step out of your comfort zone — jump out of it.

And since those are the only rules you can’t really cheat. In fact, all you really need to do is document it by sending us a message, video, text, written story, whatever, of all the things you’ve done in your real life — something positive and worth mentioning — that you would normally only do in your Facebook life. Then, either post it to the 543skills.com Forum page (tips and tricks), or the 543skills Facebook page — and yes, there are more points added for continual posts.

The winner gets the prize, their name on the site, our unending admiration and will be crowned — 543skills, Real Life Czar.

Let’s run this game from 12/18/2014 to 01/18/2015.

Good luck. Have fun and go have a great, real life.

* * * * * * *

FACEBOOK POST:

BECCA: … I’d also like to share my vision for if I win. My grandpa and I have never lived closer than a seven hour drive from each other. He’s been an avid stamp collector for as long as I have known him. He used to go to trade shows and was very into it. He has recently decided not to have a heart surgery that doctors have suggested, feeling the risks outweigh the benefits for him. If I win, I would like to use the stamps as a discussion point for us…I plan to send him pictures of what I can to see if he can gauge their worth. If they will cover the cost, I will sell them to fund a trip for my family to visit him and for him to meet my son.

543SKILLS: The great thing about being a small website like 543skills is that we can pretty much do — whatever we want. If we want to change the rules of the contest we don’t need to meet with the board or research the bylaws or check the documentation. What documentation? We can do whatever we want to do. And we see no reason to run this contest out to January — what’s the point? You get it and we want you and your grandfather to have the prize.

Now I don’t know if this stamp collection is worth a thousand dollars or a thousand cents but we want you and your grandfather to have it — I want my father’s collection to go to your grandfather. So if you message me with your address we will get it in the mail to you this week — it won’t make it to you by Christmas but it will be there this year.

Thanks so much for telling us your story and thanks so much for being a part of this with us.

Everett De Morier
543skills.com
P.S. Here is a little about my dad you can share with your grandfather.— http://543skills.com/fathers-day/

… the collection went out to Becca’s grandfather on December 26, 2014.

Becca

Jan 9th, 9:10pm

He got the stamps! He was absolutely tickled with them and sent an email to our whole family about it

Becca

Jan 9th, 9:11pm

Said he went through them and they aren’t worth much monetarily but a kid who is new to collecting will LOVE to get their hands on them so he is donating them next time a stamp show comes by. Continuing to pay forward the kindness of you and your father 🙂

Becca

Jan 9th, 9:11pm

It was so wonderful to have something to talk about with him…thank you, truly.

December 17, 2014
Finding Sergio

Throughout your life, there will be activities that fall into specific categories. For example, there are those things that you choose to do — you choose to go to work and you choose to pay your bills. These are your choices — you have power to do them or to not do them. You are in control.

Then there are those things that you get to do. Because you have chosen to keep working, you get to buy yourself a motorcycle. These are the direct benefits of the choice; the harvest of the decision — because of the choice, you receive the get.

And then there is the third — and the rarest category — which are those things that you are given to do. These are those tasks where you are called, where the tumblers click just right and you are allowed to play a role in something incredible and special.

It’s the right place and the right time, position. It’s when God has set everything in motion and you have the keys and the passcode and for however long it lasts you are given the chance to play a roll. You don’t deserve it, but you get to.

Six years ago, I got the call that started my given. And for every single second of those last six years, I have been grateful for it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is this — Everett?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, this is —. This is Dave.”

“Oh, hey Dave.” — Dave? Dave who?

“Umm, I know this is going to sound — weird, but —. But I have this strange, this — Wow, — idea I wanted to run past you.”

And the given began.

The next day I was standing in our church sanctuary.

“So what do you think?”

The end of the sanctuary just — well, it ended. There was this — this, step in the back but then a wall. It was just a big room.

“Well a —. A stage would be —. Well probably need a stage first.”

And within a week — within four days actually — lumber was purchased and delivered and a handful of volunteers were building a fifty foot stage.

See, the challenge with most church Christmas plays is that the bar has been set so low that it’s difficult to raise — which sounds somewhat strange but it’s not. Because there is a hundred year tradition of kids standing in there bathrobes and pretending to be Joseph or a Wiseman and no matter if they remember their lines, if they forgot the bathrobe, or if they think it would be funny to burp the alphabet just then, the play will be a success. Because it’s just for the church. It’s not all that important and there isn’t a lot of skin in the game.

Dave’s idea was different.

What if you took the church Christmas play to an off Broadway level? What if you had a solid message but delivered it in an entertaining way? What if you had an original, tightly written script that could only be seen by you? What if you had music and choreography at a professional level? What if you had a budget that would allow you to get the right lights, costumes, sound equipment and props? Would if you found the best set designer — one that believed in what you do and helped guide you? What if you created an original musical where if people stepped foot in a church once a year, this would be it because it would be hard to stay away? And most importantly, what if you found a hundred people who were willing to volunteer countless hours and take the level of excellence that we give to everything else in their lives to sing, dance, act, carry props, operate lights and work at the absolute highest level they can, through months of the rehearsals and put on four shows each December?

Oh, well then you would have — this. This amazing thing that we get to do each year.

See, there was a young musical director who had this crazy idea and I was honored to be the person he called — which as a writer is actually a pretty sweet deal because writing is a very lonely gig. You write, you write, you edit and you write and then a long time later you’re read — just a little. But each year I get to make up characters and words. Then I watch my words be said by others. Then I help work those others to become those characters. Then I stop thinking of them as my words and they become the characters words. Then I get to spend time with those characters.

It’s ironic that the writing that I’m the most proud of is that which I give away — but as I think about it, guess that’s true for just about everything.

We didn’t have a stage. A script, a cast, a set. We didn’t have performers, a crew or props. What we did have was a blank sheet of paper and an idea and no rules — the same thing we start each new year with. And it has become this miraculous thing that logically shouldn’t happen —- none of this should work each year, we don’t know what we’re doing. But it does. Every year over a hundred volunteers create an original show that can’t be seen anywhere else at a level you won’t see within a hundred miles — that is absolutely free to attend. This year’s is called Finding Sergio.

Since the inception of 543skills.com we’ve never posted an invitation before. To anything. So here is the first. If you’re a few hours from Dover, Delaware on the weekend of December 12^th, 2014, I am inviting you to see an amazing event, absolutely free of charge, that shows what a bunch of people who love God can do. Finding Sergio. And if you’re not in that area, if you send us an email here I’ll make sure you get the link for the video when it’s online.

Christmas is full of suggestions to get involved, to help, to find the true meaning and all of this is important and all of it is true. But the given, is more than just volunteering or donating. It’s more personal and it’s bigger. It’s the crazy idea. The insane one that will bring you no personal wealth or glory but is something that should be done or needs to.

In your life you will be given something to do — probably more than once. It will seem small or it will seem ridiculous and you’ll be right both times.

Enjoy it.

And Merry Christmas.

November 29, 2014
The Country Club

“There you go, sir.”

It wasn’t the sir that she used. People call me sir, all the time. Casually without affection; in fact they call every male, sir —- from McDonalds to Starbucks. Thank you, sir. Here’s your change, sir. Have a good day, sir.

It wasn’t the sir — not at all, I don’t even hear that any longer — it was that after saying it, she waited for my answer. She just stood there and waited.

The bar was busy but not the way a commercial bar would have been. It was busy like a Country Club bar is — which is exactly what it was. There weren’t people leaning over the wooden top, waving paper money in order to get a Budweiser longneck and get back to the pool table. No. These were Country Club people. Successful people — and Southern, Country Club, successful people — so it was different. It was patient and elegant and relaxed.

And hey, I’m not a total buffoon when it coms to this stuff. I’ve been to some elite places in my life — five star restaurants, exclusive resorts, yacht clubs, executive ranches, mountain retreats, Country Clubs — none of which I did — or could have — paid for myself, of course. That’s not the point. But all of them work venues. All business trips. I’ve gone a lot of places. But not on my own.

And I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to see the places I have but it means that I’ve been there and my family has not. In fact, outside of our one and only trip to Key West when we were first married, twenty-two years ago, my wife and I have never been on a flight together. Ever. I have not been on one with the kids either — oh, we’ve taken countless car trips, too many to count, but never a flight.

I’ve been to Iceland, San Francisco, Luxembourg, all through Canada, the Bahamas, Las Vegas, 39 of the lower 48 States. All for business. All without my family.

“Can I get you anything else, sir?”

And that was the question. And that’s when she waited for my answer.

There were a few of us there that night that were not club members; we had all came to the office for a few days of meetings and one of the owners of our company, Paul, wanted to take us all out to dinner. Just something casual. Just a quick meal at the club.

Now it’s important to note that there is nothing pompous or arrogant about Paul — there usually aren’t about self-made men. He is kind person who became very successful through hard work and smart, solid business decisions and I have nothing but respect for him. But there is always a mental switch that gets flipped — whether by ego or fear — when you step into another man’s life and look around. Especially when it’s a successful one. The yardstick is out and the self-examination has begun.

Chris — Paul’s son — was sitting at the bar laughing. Chris is one of the Directors of the company and no, he was not given that position by birthright but earned every aspect of it. He’s young — somewhere in the late twenties to early thirties area — sharp, hardworking and grew up coming to this very Country Club. Chris was reluctant to come to dinner tonight because he has a complete day of presentations to orchestrate for tomorrow and then he is taking Friday off to fly to Miami with a young lady for the weekend — just shooting down to Miami for a few days. The same way that I would just shoot over to Wal-Mart or maybe, on a whim, jet to the park with Alex and pitch some horseshoes.

Will my son’s, Nick and Alex, ever sit at a Country Club like this and wonder if they have time to get back to their condo on the James River and get packed before a quick weekend away in the sun? At lunch will they compare who the best fly fishing guides in Mexico are and why Oktoberfest in Munich is so much better than the one in Belgium?

Probably not. That life is as foreign to them as it is to me. But what disadvantages do they have because of that? How many steps back on the game board have I started them out with, because I haven’t provided that? If I had worked harder? If I was smarter? Could I have gotten them here? Could I have gotten us here? And how much happier would we all be?

But then —? Would I want this for them or would I want it for the ego of providing it for them?

And this — this type of thinking — is exactly what happens when you start to compare lives. We feel successful when we learn a High School rival hasn’t worked in three years, but we feel lazy when another one just sold his company to Google.

So when is it okay? — as a father, as a husband, as a man — when is the right time to take enjoyment in what we’ve provided for our families and say, yeah, that was enough? — not to be complacent but to be grateful? Not to label or measure a life by points but to shrug off the ego and just — and just enjoy it?

Is this something you do only when you are 81 years old? Is it lazy to do it at 51?

“Can I get you anything else, sir?”

And although there were other customers at the bar she needed to get to, she just stood there. Smiling at me and waiting. She would not go away. She would not release me if there was anything else I needed. The others could wait. If I wanted a guitar string or a car battery or the lyrics to a Beetles song, she would leave and get it for me before moving on to the next customer.

She just waited.

“Well,” I said, smiling. “I’ll let you know.”

November 22, 2014
Facebook

Facebook is ten years old this year. Can you believe it? Which means that for a solid decade we’ve been able to digitally connect with friends, co-workers and family, whether they were a few blocks away or around the world — instantaneously. Just like that. We can now share events, tragedies, laugh at jokes and keep connected — all the time; not just through yearly Christmas Cards or the occasionally phone call. We can watch children grow up, share videos of events and rally around when needed. All the time and everywhere — from our laptops to our phones. We are always connected to them.

And because we are so accustomed to Facebook it’s difficult to remember a time before it. When if you wanted to reconnect with someone you would Google their name and hope to find an email address — which you never could and it actually just lead to bit of digital stalking; looking in but not able to knock at the door. But not now. A quick Facebook search and not only can you often find the person you are looking for, but by the very act that they are on Facebook states they are willing to consider reconnecting with you.

Today, by the stroke of a keyboard, decades can disappear and within seconds not only can we be joined back to the people we remember so clearly even though so many years have passed, but they are brought into our current life and become part of the day to day Facebook feed. Facebook has made the world small and accessible.

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Now, I am celebrating my own personal anniversary with Facebook. Three months. I have been a part of Facebook for one quarter now and I have to admit, I like it and I see value in it — even though I did not go willingly. When we were ready to launch 543skills I was told — in a very nice way — to get over it and get on Facebook. It was necessary to coordinate the site with social media which meant getting a personal Facebook page and then one for the site. So I did. But the reality is I think I was ready.

In part, the delay might have been because I actually felt special because I shunned Facebook. And possibly I was waiting for Mark Zuckerburg to call me and ask if there was anything he ever did to offend me. I would even grandstand a little on how I didn’t get involved in such things. But there were two other parts. The second was that I thought Facebook was a lot more intrusive than it really is. It’s not. You can open the door as wide or as shallow as you want to. But the second reason was —.

Well, here’s an example.

There is a company called Publish America. I am not going to say anything about this company; instead let’s play a game. Take the next three minutes — that’s all you’ll need, three minutes — and do a Google search of this company; Publish America. Then come back.

Go.

Okay, in those three minutes you have seen many things. In fact, within seconds of your search, on the very first Google page, you will see the words, complaints, lawsuits, beware, as well as the F-Rating from The Better Business Bureau — and this is thirty seconds into your allotted three minutes of time. In fact, on that same first page you will see that this company has changed their name in order to keep operating and put some distance between the lawsuits and image of the old company.

Now with all of that. Here is the question. In the three minutes of your Google search, if someone were considering signing an agreement with this company, what would you advise them?

Correct. So why does Publish America continue to get customers? Why do would-be authors sign up with them — every day?

Great question.

So here is what Publish America is about. If you want to get published, you send your manuscript into Publish America and they accept it — they say they reject many, but that’s not true (Google; Atlanta Nights and see what I mean). So they accept your book, give you one dollar as an advance and voila, you are a published author.

So, you tell all your family and friends that you are now published and of course they want to read your book — which Publish America will gladly sell them for thirty dollars. In fact Publish America will sell anyone your soft cover book for thirty dollars — because it’s Print-on-Demand — except bookstores, who won’t touch your book because it’s not edited, its error ridden, because Publish America is not a legitimate publisher, because the price is ridiculously high and because you cannot return them. Oh yeah, once you sign the contract, Publish America now owns your book and they can keep it for seven years — unless you wish to buy it back. The business model is that Publish America markets books to its authors. Period.

When I first heard about this company I thought it was sickening; taking the dreams of people and stealing it. But if you go on the Publish America website and look at the videos of the Writers Conferences they do, you will see something different. You will see — ego. That’s it. People who want to be read not because they think they have something to say, but because they think what they have to say is more important than what anyone else has to say. They don’t want to go through the work of being a writer, they just want the title.

And this is what I thought Facebook was. People who didn’t want to go through the work of being a friend, they just wanted the title.

I was wrong.

Do people abuse Facebook? Absolutely. There are those who now don’t need to be a friend in order to have a friend. Facebook becomes a substitute, a cheat. Yup. And there are those whose Facebook lives are far more glamorous than their ones in reality. But for every one of them, there are dozens of just plain people. Folks connecting and laughing and celebrating and supporting.

So sorry, Facebook. I was wrong.

October 18, 2014
Austin

There are many people in the world that are nice, once you get to know them. Once you peel back a few layers. After you coax them out, develop some trust and gain access to the true individual. But rarer are those souls that are nice — genuinely nice — from the moment you meet them. From the very second you walk into their lives you know you are standing in front of the pure, unguarded, essence of the individual. They have no agendas or desires to impress. These are just balanced and happy and the pleasure of life just spills out. They can’t help it. They are content which makes them nice.

Al Santillo is one of those truly nice guys. Al owns Santillo’s Brick Oven Pizza, which is located in a small house tucked between a church and an apartment building in Elizabeth, New Jersey — in fact, when I was first trying to find it, I walked in the front door and walked back out; this could not be the place with three pages of raving Yelp reviews for it. It was so small, so —- so, not what I was expecting. I walked in, saw Al, his back to me writing something down at a cluttered table, I didn’t see any lines of people clambering for what I was told was the best pizza in New Jersey, I didn’t see any banners, posters or signs telling the customer how amazing their pie was. So I left.

When I got to my car I went back to the Yelp search — because this pizza was for Austin and it had to be great. This was going to be his last dinner with us before he moved and I wanted it to be — well, amazing. Austin had had now had his first taste of good pizza a few weeks before this when we had taken him to New York City for his first time, his going away present. So this had to rival that pizza and since I had a meeting in New Jersey— which is close to New York, the capital of Pizza — this is where I would find it. Hopefully.

Now, we had known Austin was leaving us for a while, several months actually, but denial is a wonderfully comforting thing when you call upon it. And we did. But the day rudely came anyway. On Saturday morning, Austin and his family would begin the 1800 miles trek from Delaware to Colorado to begin a new life.

Austin came into our lives seven years before this. I had walked into the family room one day and there were three warm bodies in there, instead of only the two male dependents that share my last name.

“This is Austin,” Nick introduced from behind him. Not taking his eyes off the screen or taking his hand off the controller.

“Hi,” Austin said, while killing Nick’s character in a blaze of digital gunfire.

And from that time he was a fixture at our house. But it wasn’t until the first time that this shy and quiet kid looked into our refrigerator and screamed out, “We’re out of ice tea.” And Debbie yelled back. “I’ll get some in the morning.” — was he officially part of the family.

Over the past seven years Austin would go on family trips with us, vacations and most weekends either he was sleeping at our house or Nick was sleeping at his. In fact, Austin and Nick were in my car when I learned our house was on fire and I broke every speed law in Delaware to get to it. And they both took dates together to the prom.

With all the electronic gizmos available, Nick and Austin will keep in touch. They’ll face time and game together and do a bunch of other technological miracles that I don’t understand. But first, I had to get him pizza.

After I had conformed with Yelp that I was at the right place, I walked back into Al’s place. He spent the next thirty minutes telling me about the difference between cheese from Romania and cheese from Wisconsin. Without ever meeting me before, he brought me behind the counter to try a pizza type he was experimenting with, he asked me about my family and where I grew up and he showed me how his huge brick oven works.

Al is a genuinely nice guy.

Just like Austin.

And, oh yeah —. Al’s pizza is absolutely amazing.

October 14, 2014
The Files

When we are born, when we first take delivery of our body, there is some set up and installation time required for the main component; the brain. And this takes a little while to completely go through. So since nothing interesting can happen until the brain is fully functional, for the first three years of life — as our brain goes through this construction and set up phase — we remain in in a state of LOADING. During this period, software is installing, hardware is being assembled, code is being added in and miles and miles of connections and cables are being strung. It’s a capital project and after several years we are ready for some trial runs as we first put our brain through its paces.

This is why any long term memories we have begin at around age three because before this, our brain is unable to store and record. But from that point on, we are given the keys to our mind and we start to determine who we are and who are the people around us. What will we believe? Who will we trust? What’s important and what is our place in the universe?

So we are an adult at 18, we can drink at 21, we can drive at 16, but we are responsible for our own thoughts at around age three.

Now when we first start using this brand new brain of ours, it begins in vacuum-cleaner-mode as we suck up all information on everything around us. Everything. Pure data. Pure experience. All is recorded.

Then, after a few years of doing this, there is sufficient enough information to begin to sort it all. So the first category we create is, THINGS THAT ARE SAFE and the other is for THINGS THAT ARE SCARY. And everything new goes in one of these two boxes. Then once those files are established, old data is pulled out and resorted; the chair is safe, but the cat hissed at us once so he now goes in the scary box. And for years the world is divided into two parts. The safe and the frightening. Safe is good. Scary is bad.

Then we add new files: what tastes good and what does not. What is easy and what is hard. What gets us attention and what gets us ignored. And file after file after file is filled. And we call this personality; how we react to things, what we avoid and what we gravitate to.

This is what people remember about us. This is the footprint we leave in a crowd.

Okay, so here’s the scenario.

You are now an adult, with your seasoned, battle tested brain. And for this illustration let’s put you in prison — sorry, you’ve lead a very troubled life. So you’re in prison, but because you are an extremely smart convict, one day you escape. You get out of your cell, you get outside the pod and then you get out of the building. You make it over the wall and into the woods. Now, because you are a very detailed person you manage to ditch the orange prison jumpsuit and get into some street clothes. You get a little cash and are a few hundred miles away before the guards even know you’re gone.

Like I said, you are very, very smart.

Now, because you are a disciplined person, once you are free you do not make contact with your sister in Albany or your childhood friend in Tulsa and you don’t even go to father’s funeral six months later. You cut all ties with his past at places where they may be looking for you. You get a new identity, a new life and a new job.

So, here is the question. Will you get caught?

Answer: Yes.

Why? Because without even realizing it, you will begin operating according to those old files and if the police are looking for you they will find you. And when they do, you will be making a living as a mechanic, like you did before. And you will be on a dart league, like you were before. And you will be a member of the Moose Club and you will order rose bulbs from a catalog and drink Mountain Dew and follow the New York Giants. All like you did before. And even though your name is now Kevin Loomis, you are the same person as before and if the police follow your profile they will find you and they will drag your sorry backside back to A-block.

Why? Because as disciplined as you are you never changed your profile. You operated only according to the old files.

Now, is this programming our personality? Well if it is then you need to alter it or you’re going back to prison. But what if this personality is stopping us from taking better care of our families or making more money? What if it’s stopping us from obtaining a more personal relationship with God or being just plain being happier? After all, this personality of ours didn’t come in a box. We built it with the brain we were given. It was whittled and formed by each experience and fear and belief and desire. A trillion tiny thoughts, a million tiny events chipped away and made us, us.

We take the same route home from work. We sit in the same seats during lunch. We go to the same garage when our car doesn’t work and we order the same pizza on Saturday night. Is that our personality? Is that what makes us, us? Pizza and car repair?

So what’s the moral of all this?

It’s this.

You are not what you drive or what you eat or the team you root for. You are not even how you have chosen to act for the last thirty or seventy years. The real you — and you may not even know who that really is yet — is much, much more.

And it’s your job to find out who that is. And then once you know, dump the files you don’t like or need.

And fill new ones.

October 1, 2014
Riley the Dog

There are a few things in my household that I have complete veto power over — not many, but there are a handful. For example, when my wife and children wanted pets, I said no. I felt bad about it, but the answer was no. I did not want us to be one of those pet-houses.

Now, don’t get me wrong, pets are great; cute, fun, entertaining — I get it. But having animals means being tied down; constantly running home and feeding them, or letting them out or exercising them. I wanted us to be able to travel and move around freely without having to be animal caretakers.

So I said no. No pets.

And to their credit, my family reacted in a way that made me proud. There were no complaints from Debbie and no tears from the kids. They took it extremely well.

And one morning — this would have been about three years later — I was feeding the cats when Debbie and the kids said that they wanted a dog.

What? A dog? No absolutely not. No dogs.

And they took it well.

Then then, about three years later, they asked for another dog? Absolutely not. We already had a dog.

But they said a new dog would be a companion to Abby, our Golden Retriever. And, they added that a second dog is not much more work than a first dog. And once again, I pulled out that veto power and said no. Sorry, but no. We would not be a house with two dogs — who has two dogs anyway? That’s like having two swimming pools or two basements. Why would you have more than one?

And five years later, after Murphy died, we were back to only one dog, so…

Well, you get the picture.

We got Riley about six months ago.

Now the difference between Riley and the other dogs we’ve had — two Golden Retrievers and a Basset Hound — is that Riley is a mixed breed dog.

After having had three purebreds, I have realized that all breeds are bred to do something — to hunt, to point, to herd, to show, to…something. And that DNA is telling them to herd, to protect, to point — first. Then, if they have some free time, they can be a pet.

Now, many breeds make excellent pets — it says so right in the book — but some are first and foremost bred to do something else.

Not that purebred dogs aren’t great. They are. But I prefer my mutt.

When you take out that breeding — rip out the generations of DNA that force a dog to react a certain way or be on the lookout for a specific action, and strip the dog down to its basic structure — you let the dog just be a dog.

And when you get to be just a dog, you have the opportunity to see the world through a regular ol’ dog’s eyes. And frankly, they have it all figured out. Riley has it all figured out.

So here is what Riley has to tell you about life.

1. Where you are, is the place to be.

Riley doesn’t wonder if there is something better upstairs or around the corner. All he knows is that right here, right now, is where it’s at. This is the center of the universe and where he’s happy and grateful. He doesn’t regret or second guess. This moment, this time, is the best time that there is, or will ever be.

2. All memories are good memories.

Riley doesn’t mentally file away the times you bumped his nose when walking past him in the middle of the kitchen. He forgot how Abby got three more dog biscuits than he did and he has no clue that you could have walked him an hour earlier on Sunday but chose not to. Riley doesn’t know how to keep memories like this or what to do with them even if he did. He doesn’t understand what envy or jealousy or bitterness is and if he did, he would abandon it. It would bore him.

3. As great as life is, there is always room for new people.

Riley loves the people around him and is content with just them, forever. But when a new person enters his life he reacts as if it was the first person he ever met. Riley doesn’t treat his tenth friend less than his first friend. Everyone who enters his world is amazing, valuable, and worth getting to know. And he does not respond to people based on how they respond to him. He doesn’t care. He focuses on them, regardless of what they think about him.

That’s what Riley wanted me to tell you.

August 26, 2014
The Fifty-Year-Old You

Medifast has come up with an advertising campaign that is not only very creative, but extremely powerful. In these campaigns a person is filmed at the beginning of their fitness plan, having a conversation with someone in a chair next to them — only there is no one in that chair. They are speaking as if they are talking to a new version of themselves, 12 weeks into the program. Then, at the end of the 12 weeks, the same individual comes back and is filmed talking to the other empty chair, as if having a conversation with themselves from 12 weeks ago. Through some video magic these two films are edited into a seamless conversation.

We see the old version —- beaten, discouraged, and afraid — being encouraged by the new version who is strong, fit, and confident. Of course the new individual is not afraid of anything, because the new one knows what will happen. The new you holds all the secrets.

Today, I have done the same thing for you — the you of today. I’ve gone into the future and found you at 50 years old. We have spoken and I have brought him here and he wants to tell you a few things. He wants to talk to his 20-year-old, 30-year-old, and 40-year-old self, to not only let him know what to expect but to give him his insights and cheats for the next few decades.

So here are the five things the 50-year-old you wants you to know.

#1. You look good.

Yes, there will come a point, ten, twenty, or thirty years from now, when you will look at a picture of yourself at this current point in time — it could even be a picture that is taken at this very moment — and that new you is going to smile and think, Wow, I wasn’t bad looking back then.

Today is the best you will look. Now this might sound like bad news, but it’s not. It does not mean that your appearance will degrade from now on. It means that you won’t appreciate your appearance until it does.

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And that’s the clincher. There will never, ever, be a time when the exact amount you appreciate how you look meets the exact way you look. It just doesn’t happen. Because by the time you do appreciate it, time has moved on and you’re looking back at a photograph and wishing you looked like that now.

Here is the paradox: If the 30-year-old you was looking at a photograph of the 20-year-old you, he would wish he looked like that now. And if you took a picture of that you looking at that picture, the 40-year-old you would look at the 30-year-old you and wish the same thing — while the 30-year-old you was wishing it on the 20-year-old you in the photograph.

Which means that someday you will want to look like exactly the way you do right now. Learn to appreciate it.

#2. Most of the time, you’re kind of a jerk.

Although your physical appearance is just fine the way it is, your view of life kind of sucks. As a man in your 20s, 30s, and even 40s, your skin is far too thin and your self-involvement levels are way too high. So much that if you and the 50-year-old version of you were talking at a party, the older version would politely excuse himself and find someone more interesting to be around.

Insecurity runs deep in men and when you mix that with our need for acceptance, the end result is a highly internalized, afraid, and somewhat shallow individual.

What the evidence? The 50-year-old version of yourself never takes a selfie. Never. Whereas the 20, 30, and 40-year-old version may have dozens of them scattered across social networks.

Now mix this self-involvement along with another trait the younger version of you has: the need to be right. The younger version of you not only needs to be right, but he needs to prove to those people around him that he’s right — no matter what.

Although you may build houses for the poor and read to the blind on your free time, your 20, 30, and even 40-year-old attitude needs a little tweaking. Eventually, your confidence will increase and you’ll settle into a solid view of the world, but until then, relax, take the focus off yourself and think.

#3. Money is better than stuff.

Now this may seem like a somewhat cold view of life, but it’s actually the opposite. The 50-year-old you knows that money — meaning the actual currency that you’ve earned and built up — is far better than the things you can buy with that currency.

Yes, there will be a day when you are looking at that photo album and you’ll miss that car you had when you were 20 or that motorcycle you biked to Maine on. But in reality you’re not missing the tangible car, you’re missing the places you went in it — you’re missing the friends that rode with you to Maine.

As cold and non-poetic as it sounds, the 50-year-old you know that there is confidence to be had in working hard and having a nest egg — actual currency saved — rather than a box full of toys.

40% of everything you buy will be gone in a year.

90% will be gone in four, so the total amount you paid for 100% of your stuff has to be amortized across 10% of it.

Oh, and this doesn’t even include your cell phone and all the electronic gadgets because our constant need to upgrade makes these rentals more than purchases; we simply don’t keep them long enough.

#4. That same extended family you avoided when you were in your 20s, is the same one you’ll be helping to keep together in your 50s.

As the focus comes off of you, it goes on to others. The 20-year-old version of you will come up with every excuse to miss the family reunion. In your 30s you will tolerate these get-togethers. In your 40s you will look forward to them, and in your 50s you will be organizing them.

That same internalized pride we had in our 20s is spread out once we hit 50. We become less proud of us and more proud of those that contributed to us.

#5. Being 50 is something to look forward to, not fear.

The 50-year-old version of you is happy, excited, hard-working and confident, and by the time you hit 50 you are just hitting your stride and looking forward to each day and each challenge. The 50-year-old you has a view of life that is clear and accurate and he knows what’s important and what is not. The 50-year-old you laughs more and worries less.

And he can’t wait to meet you.

July 22, 2014
Take the 30-day, buy used, challenge

actually

Okay, here is an exercise.

Let’s say that something bad happens — some financial catastrophe — and you need to come up with an enormous amount of money quickly. And for the sake of this exercise let’s also say that you have already tapped into your savings, your 401K, your lines of credit, cash advances and anything else you can think of. All the traditional methods are exhausted and you still need cash. A lot more. So now all that is left are your things. Your stuff; the things you own. All that you have to sell are those very items you see and use everyday.

But how much are those things worth? — not how much did they cost, but how much are they really worth? — because a baseball card might have a value of a thousand dollars but until someone puts that amount in your hand, its value is undetermined.

In this financial scenario, if you had to sell all the things you own, outside of owning a box of gold coins or having a few Corvette’s in your garage, the true value of what we have — meaning what someone else would pay us for them — is actually very small.

Our flat screen TV may have cost three grand, but if no one is going to give us three grand for it — especially if it’s a few years old and is no longer the hot technology — it’s probably worth a hundred or less.

Outside of owning luxury items or precious stones and metal, the contents of an average four bedroom home would sell in an estate sale for $6,000.

Not bad. Except that the replacement cost of those same items would be $20,000. Meaning what we pay $20,000 for items that have a street value of $6,000.

Here’s an example. A few years ago I splurged and bought my wife a very nice gold chain — a jewelry store near our home was having a big sale and a 14 carrot gold chain that would normally be $1,200 was now $800.00. So I bought it. And just out of curiosity — just because I wanted to gloat on what a bargain I had gotten — I stopped at a pawn shop on my way home. I said that I might be interested in pawning the piece and wanted to know how much I would get for it. The gold was tested and weighed and an offer was made.

$140

My $800 purchase had a true value of $140.

Now, I might have found a slightly higher offer at another pawn shop. Maybe. But the highest offer someone had given me was $140 so that was the current value.

I still gave my wife the necklace — it was a gift and it was not about the money — but it did get me thinking.

Now this discussion is not about how to get the highest dollar for your things when you sell them. It is demonstrating that anything we buy new — and I mean anything —- the value depreciates just like a car. A $200 microwave has a resale value of around $50. A $100 vacuum cleaner would sell for $30 and a $600 lawn mower would get you about $75. That is the true value of those items.

So here is the challenge. Take a month and be resolved to be on the other side of this curve. For one month. For thirty days. Vow to buy all the items you need — every coffee maker, every shirt, every book — used.

Instead of running to Wal Mart on your way home — stop at The Good Will instead. And when you need to swing by Radio Shack, hit the local Pawn Shop. Instead of Target, pick up a few things at The Thrift Store or scan Craigslist.

Just do it for thirty days — it won’t be as convenient and it may take some patience — but vow to do it for one month.

And let me know what happens.

May 24, 2014
Goofy laws that are still on the books

The law is a very interesting entity. Laws are passed to protect and to regulate. To control and to moderate. And as life changes laws get removed or altered or simply rescinded.

However, sometimes they simply slip through the cracks and remain on the books.

Over the years I have collected some of my favorite laws that still remain — just in case I ever decide to go to prison, I want to go down for one of these …

DELAWARE

Getting married on a dare is illegal.

No person shall change clothes in his or her vehicle.

One may not whisper in church.

No person shall pretend to sleep on a bench on the boardwalk. (You can sleep on one, just be honest about it).

ALABAMA

Bear wrestling matches are prohibited.

It is illegal to maim oneself to escape work.

It is considered an offense to open an umbrella on a street.

It is illegal to sell peanuts after sundown on Wednesday.

Dominoes may not be played on Sunday.

It is illegal to wear a fake moustache that causes laughter in church.

Putting salt on a railroad track may be punishable by death.

It is legal to drive the wrong way down a one-way street if you have a lantern attached to the front of your automobile. (Otherwise, it’s fine).

You may not have an ice cream cone in your back pocket at any time.

It is illegal for a driver to be blindfolded while operating a vehicle.

In Alaska, it is considered an offense to push a live moose out of a moving airplane.

ARIZONA

Any misdemeanor committed while wearing a red mask is considered a felony.

There is a possible 25 years in prison for cutting down a cactus.

Donkeys cannot sleep in bathtubs.

When being attacked by a criminal or burglar, you may only protect yourself with the same weapon that the other person possesses.

It is unlawful to refuse a person a glass of water.

Cards may not be played in the street with a Native American.

No more than six girls may live in any house.

A decree declares that anyone caught stealing soap must wash himself with it until it is all used up.

An ordinance prohibits the wearing of suspenders.

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No one is permitted to ride their horse up the stairs of the county court house.

In Tombstone, it is illegal for men and women over the age of 18 to have less than one missing tooth visible when smiling.

In Tucson, women may not wear pants.

ARKANSAS

The Arkansas River can rise no higher than to the Main Street bridge in Little Rock.

A law provides that school teachers who bob their hair will not get a raise.

A man can legally beat his wife, but not more than once a month.

Alligators may not be kept in bathtubs.

Honking one’s car horn at a sandwich shop after 9 PM is against the law.

It is unlawful to walk one’s cow down Main Street after 1:00 PM on Sunday.

CALIFORNIA

It is a misdemeanor to shoot at any kind of game from a moving vehicle, unless the target is a whale. (You can’t make this stuff up).

Women may not drive in a bathrobe.

Nobody is allowed to ride a bicycle in a swimming pool. (And I mean NOBODY, start taking this seriously!).

City Council order reads: “No dog shall be in a public place without its master on a leash.

One may not bring their dog to school.

One must obtain a permit from the city to throw hay in a cesspool. (Kid’s, get the proper permit, okay. You’ll get caught).

COLORADO

Throwing missiles at cars is illegal. (Wow, picky)

Catapults may not be fired at buildings.

It is illegal to permit ones llama to graze on city property.

Boulders may not be rolled on city property. (Whow, Colorado is violent).

Couches may not be placed on outside porches.

It is permissible to wear a holstered six-gun within city limits, except on Sunday, Election Day, or holidays. (What’s the lesson here? Do not tick off peoples in Colorado, they will fire missiles at your from a catapult).

It is unlawful to lend your vacuum cleaner to your next-door neighbor.

FLORIDA

The state constitution allows for freedom of speech, a trial by jury, and pregnant pigs to not be confined in cages.

Doors of all public buildings must open outwards.

It is illegal — and I mean illegal — to sell your children.

It is illegal for women to fall asleep under a hair dryer in a beauty salon.

A law prohibits unmarried women from parachuting on Sunday.

If an elephant is left tied to a parking meter, the parking fee has to be paid.

It is illegal to sing in a public place while wearing a swimsuit. (Don’t do it).

Men may not be seen publicly in any kind of strapless gown.

It is considered an offense to shower naked. (You can’t make this up).

You are not allowed to break more than three dishes per day, or chip the edges of more than four cups and/or saucers.

Torpedoes may not be set off in the city. (Wow, Colorado rocks).

It’s illegal to lean your bicycle against a tree in a cemetery.

In Georgia, it is illegal to use profanity in front of a dead body.

In Hawaii, coins are not allowed to be placed in one’s ears. (We’d better text Katie…)

IDAHO

You may not fish on a camel’s back.

Boise

Residents may not fish from a giraffe’s back.

“The carrying of concealed weapons is forbidden, unless weapons are fully exhibited to public view.

ILLINOIS

Law forbids eating in a place that is on fire.

It is illegal to give a dog whiskey.

It is forbidden to fish while sitting on a giraffe’s neck.

It is illegal to drink beer out of a bucket while sitting on the curb. (Drinking beer from a bucket in a bus, on a giraffes back, fine. Just not on the curb).

Wheelbarrows with For-Sale signs may not be chained to trees.

In Indiana, Liquor stores may not sell milk.

IOWA

A man with a moustache may never kiss a woman in public.

One-armed piano players must perform for free.

Tanning bed facilities must warn of the risk of getting sunburn.

Ministers must obtain a permit to carry their liquor across state lines.

The fire department is required to practice fire fighting for fifteen minutes before beginning to put the fire out.

Horses are forbidden to eat fire hydrants. (Huh? One tough horse).

One must obtain written permission from the City Council before throwing bricks into a highway.

Within the city limits, a man may not wink at any woman he does not know.

KANSAS

Rabbits may not be shot from motorboats.

Pedestrians crossing the highways at night must wear tail lights.

The state game rule prohibits the use of mules to hunt ducks.

If two trains meet on the same track, neither shall proceed until the other has passed.

Hitting a vending machine that stole your money is illegal.

No one may wear a bee in their hat. (When would that EVER be an issue?)

Musical car horns are banned.

It is illegal to drive one’s car through a parade.

No one may sing the alphabet on the streets at night. (Hey, what are you in for?)

KENTUCKY

Throwing eggs at a public speaker could result in up to one year in prison.

One may not dye a duckling blue and offer it for sale unless more than six are for sale at once.

It is illegal to fish with a bow and arrow in Kentucky.

A woman may not buy a hat without her husband’s permission.

In Louisiana, it is illegal to shoot lasers at police officers. (Proton torpedoes, plasma cannon, fine. Just no lasers, people ..)

In Maryland, It’s illegal to throw bales of hay from a second-story window within the city limits, and, you cannot sell chicks or ducklings to a minor within 1 week of the Easter holiday.

MASSACHUSSETTS

It is illegal to give beer to hospital patients.

At a funeral, mourners may eat no more than three sandwiches. (Hey, Mrs., Phelps, I know your husband is dead, but isn’t that your forth sandwich? Hands against the wall, spread em.)

An old ordinance declares goatees illegal unless you first pay a special license fee for the privilege of wearing one in public.

It is illegal to go to bed without first having a full bath.

No gorilla is allowed in the back seat of any car. (Again, this must have been an issue once).

Children may smoke, but they may not purchase cigarettes.

Tomatoes may not be used in the production of clam chowder.

Quakers and witches are banned.

Bullets may not be used as currency.

In Missouri, it is illegal to provide beer or other intoxicants to elephants. (There were a lot of issues with elephants).

In Montana, it is illegal to bring a bomb or rocket to city council proceedings.

In Nevada, benches may not be placed in the middle of any street.

May 24, 2014
The return of business non-casual

In the 1990’s, the stodgy American business world created a weekly event called Casual Friday.

Casual Friday began on the West Coast and was an innovative idea that was pretty simple; one day a week — a Friday — employees could leave their business attire at home and come to work casually. Now, casual in some offices meant khaki’s and a polo shirt where in another office this would include jeans and t-shirts.

When Casual Friday first began, it was an instant hit. Employers noticed there was higher productivity, more comradery and a general lifting of office morale — and employees actually seemed more comfortable.

As the same time that this trend began to gain popularity, the landscape of American business began to change. Certain hi-tech companies began to adapt business casual as there everyday dress code. And as these hi-tech companies began to dominate the economic stage, spin offs and start ups began — all with this new business casual approach to their dress code. The idea of wearing jeans and sneakers was now the sign that a company was edgy and creative.

So in order to attract the same technical talent, larger hi-tech firms began to relax their dress requirements, allowing their engineering, IT and other technical people to wear chinos and golf shirts. But now a paradox was forming.

Because the salesmen to these companies were wearing the traditional shirt and tie, but their customers — the engineers, the software designers, the technical supervisors — were all wearing polo shirts and jeans, there was a gap. Before this, the salesman was always seen as a problem solver; one of us. But now, just from the act of wearing a shirt and tie, he stuck out. He was an outsider. So sales departments began to match their dress codes to their customers.

And from this, business casual was born.

Because before this, business men — doctors, salesmen, accountants, hotel clerks — all woke up in the morning and put on a dress shirt, jacket, tie. The business suit — or at least the dress shirt and tie — had been the staple of American business since the 1800’s. But then the business dress code changed.

But now the landscape is changing once again. After almost two decades of business casual, there is a trend now to bump that up a notch. The idea of a dress shirt with a jacket, a shirt with a tie, a pair of suit pants instead of chinos, is rising fast with many American men: opting to dress a little higher than mere business casual.

And the Men’s apparel industry has noticed and have catered to this trend with what is called Business Separates. Now khakis and a button down shirt can be highlighted with a separate colored blazer. A tie and a vest will be worn or dress pants and dress shoes will be worn instead of chinos and penny loafers.

The full blown grey suit and tie are no longer the norm in American business. But the bar is now being raised from the dark days of the ’90’s to something — different.

May 24, 2014