Being a flag maker of 40+ years, I’ve witnessed a lot of redesigning of country and state flags. For instance,…
It is 9:00 AM on Friday, July 7th, 2023, when the well-groomed young man, Mr. Jack McCoy, enters a meeting room in the horticulture department of Ohio State University. Three hours later, this adrenaline-worn student emerges as Dr. Jack McCoy.
I consider myself lucky that I no longer have to travel on holiday weekends. When my kids were young, vacations had to be planned around their school breaks, which always coincided with a holiday. But since then, I’ve avoided those crowded travel times. This is twofold; I’m graciously giving space to families with school time constraints and selfishly circumventing my own stress level brought on from overcrowded airports and delayed flights.
Sometimes I feel like I am shouting (my metaphor for writing) into the wind. Therefore, when I get a reply of any kind on my blog, I like it. It is nice to know people are reading my weekly posts, even if the knowing is sometimes coming from a not-so-nice comment or an unsubscribe.
After losing our Brave Magazine editor to retirement, I wondered if Flag and Banner (FAB) would ever have the chutzpah to publish it again. I say that because making a magazine is hard work, expensive and takes a lot of brain power, thus the editor must be someone with a passion for it, otherwise it becomes something we (the marketing department) collectively put off, and put off, and put off. Which we did for a while. But I am glad to say it is back and we feel like proud papas (or mamas).
Our family doesn’t need a reason to get together, because we do it all the time, but this past weekend we did it with spiritual purpose; It was for baby Arthur’s Christening ceremony. As we gathered around the water, donned in our best clothes (and before we did some day drinking) I broke church protocol and sneakily snapped this precious picture. Note: the Dean even has a halo!
How Kerry McCoy Became an Enterprise
My little cancer baby on the end of my nose surprised everyone but me. I was awake through the whole MOH out-patient surgery. With my nose numb, the cancer surgeon took a dime size divot off of the tip and carried his new extraction into the other room to observe under a microscope.
Now, I am a person that goes to the dermatologist every year. For years, my doctor has recommended a preventative, deep-facial peel for the sun damage done to my fair skin during my youth. The only problem I have with this suggestion is the recovery time. For a week after this procedure, you look like a reptile during molting season. So, I put it off until last November when, once again, the doctor reminded me of the peel and went on to say that it was also good for getting rid of fine lines (he should have mentioned that earlier).
In less than two months, I have recorded three new radio interviews, torn my home up in a remodeling frenzy, bought a work-in-progress business in Miami with new travel expenditures, and happened to witness the launch of Elon Musk’s first civilian space launch with Space X from Cape Canaveral.
Each fall, after flag season (which is April, May and June), the flag manufacturers and dealers of this cottage industry get together and compare notes. We are friendly competitors. Like restaurants clustering together in proximity for increased market share, flag companies are stronger together.
The flag business is seasonal. During the cold months, our sales drop off dramatically. It makes sense; during the winter, we’re all indoors and flags, for the most part, are outdoor products. Last year, during these slow months, FlagandBanner.com made a calculated decision to allocate more money for advertising than ever before. If there was ever a silver bullet for selling flags in the winter months, we were going to find it. I can conclusively say: There is no silver bullet.
As you can imagine, I had lots of comments about my decision to stop selling the Confederate battle flag. My favorite response was from a lady who was in favor of my decision. Her closing words were “Not today, Satan, not today!”
Shortly after my announcement, I got a visit from my friend, Randall, who also happens to be the President of the Sons of the Confederacy in Arkansas. He, as he put it, “Came in defense of my ancestors.” I was expecting him.