Foxholes make Believers Because I cuss like a sailor and appear to live life without boundaries, some might find it…
This is hard to believe: I have been blogging since 2004! I used to blog once a month but, a few years back, my marketing staff pushed me to blog more and share my business knowledge.
When I overheard my daughter telling someone that her “PJ game was strong,” I had to laugh and thought, “Right now, that’s true for everyone.” Gone are the days of dressing up and going out. Now, a big outing is masking up for a run to the grocery store and back home for a night of cooking or lounging in freshly washed PJ’s with a good book, hard puzzle, or mini-series on the boob tube (that’s a TV for you youngsters).
I don’t consider myself an influencer, though I blog every week, have a podcast and YouTube channel, and my marketing team puts my face on everything. Instead, I prefer to think of myself as an encourager.
Just when you think it is all over, you get a little sign from the universe telling you, “What you do matters.” That is what happened to me last week.
This past flag season, which is the second quarter of every year, it seems everybody in America was looking to represent themselves with a flag.
I’ve long been a believer in the power of saying “Yes.” So, that’s what I did when my neighbor walked by my house recently, on a beautiful, crisp morning, and asked me if his son, Nick Shoulders, could perform on the steps of my big front porch.
My current Netflix binge-watch, with some never-seen-before footage, is Greatest Events of WWII. While I watched this mini-series, I thought of my dad; a young man who fought in this war and was shot down and lived 2 years in Stalag Luft III, a German prison camp.
I took my first plane ride in 1967. Because few seats were occupied, it seemed a luxurious and expensive adventure, afforded by few. My frightened 12-year-old mind will be forever imprinted with the glamour of seeing a pretty stewardess, propped up on an armrest chatting up the businessmen on board, who were smoking cigarettes (each seat had a built in ashtray) and sipping highballs in the middle of day. It was like a Frank Sinatra movie.
Let’s Lent! By that, I mean everyone can participate in the Christian tradition of Lent that began this past Tuesday, known as Mardi Gras (or Shrove Tuesday). You don’t have to be an Anglican Christian to observe a Lenten practice for 40 days. I have Baptist friends and evangelical friends that also enjoy the season of self-improvement.
The problems facing Mother Earth can sometimes seem so big and daunting that it feels discouraging to even try to help. While casually watching Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday and hearing one of her guests talk about effecting change, a little spark of hope ignited within me. The power of one is bigger than you may think.
Our new Razorback basketball coach, Eric Musselman, was in Little Rock, Arkansas for a game at Verizon Arena and spoke at the Tip Off Club luncheon. As he walked to the podium, I was shocked at the sight of him. He is only 5’5”! I am taller than him!
Accustomed to the wide open, gawking mouths from people when they first see him, he quickly broke the ice by making a joke about his height.
Yes, it all happened casually, without much thought. I’m sitting in my hairdresser’s (stylist’s) chair, talking about how much I wish I could still wear big, hoop earrings, when she says, “Well, get another ear piercing and you can.” How? Whatever did she mean?
Her assistant overhears and says, “Oh yeah, just put it higher up on the ear. And by the way, if you go, I want to go and let’s get our nipples pierced.” (God, I hope my granddaughter is not reading this).
The Mayor of Little Rock, Arkansas, Mr. Frank Scott, is an excellent orator. If you get an opportunity to hear him speak, take it. He is a former minister and the son of a Baptist preacher…need I say more?
As Bill Clinton walked on to the stage at the Arkansas Democrat Gazette’s 200th anniversary celebration, I fretted. He’s thin, gray haired and slow moving, so I worried about his cognitive function.
As the audience awaited on bated breath, the 42nd President of the United States acted relaxed as he took his sweet time at the podium, opening his notes, looking out at the audience, and then finally beginning his oration.
Last summer, Mrs. Elm got some bad news; she was diagnosed with incurable Dutch Elm disease. I was crushed at her prognosis and wrote about it in an earlier blog post. In that post, I professed that there are many unexplained miracles and cures that happen every day and, if there’s no scientific cure for Mrs. Elm, then it is time to move to plan B–a miracle. To enlist a miracle, you must have hope, faith, prayer, and ritual.
Leadership has been a reoccurring theme the past two weeks. I’ve been asked my thoughts on this subject by psychologist…
Everyone should write a blog. It jogs your memory of a learned experience and it is cathartic. We used to call it “keeping a diary.” As with many written journals it can be a private memoire, for your eyes only, or shared with only a few or with many. All choices are yours to make and can be modified at any time. It’s your blog!
When traveling, I like to catch up on movies in my hotel room. The Ruth Bader Ginsberg movie, On the Basis of Sex, is a walk down history lane and should possibly be required-watching for all Americans. It is easy, when reciting a gratitude list, to omit and take for granted today’s equality for both men and women. It was a mere 40 years ago that men were not recognized in a court of law as care givers and therefore disqualified from tax relief and other compensations like women. Likewise, women weren’t recognized as head of household, thus unable to apply for credit cards or a mortgage without a husband’s signature.
One thing I didn’t expect, but have come to love, is the research I must do for my radio show. Each week, under pressure of a deadline, I read about my guest. As a result, I’ve learned so much!
My interview with Mr. Lay, founder of GWL Advertising, was fast approaching. My first thought was to research his business, GWL Advertising, and speak to the changes that have occurred in his industry over the past 40 years. But, when he sent me his bio, I quickly changed course. Gary Wayne Lay, from Clinton, Arkansas, has a story that really caught me by surprise and opened my eyes, once again, to the fragility of life.