CHRISTMAS TIME

Wishing you and your family and wonderous and merry Christmas! Please remember the true reason for the season and give what you can to help others. Keep others in your prayers--including your enemies--for they need it more than anyone.

On a personal note: Please keep Coach Bob Johnson in your prayers. He is undergoing cancer therapy at Methodist Hospital in Houston, Texas. Coach J recently resigned as head basketball coach at Emory and Henry after more than 27 years to move to Houston and he and his family need/deserve our support during these trying times. According to the college sports blog: "Bob Johnson has built a national reputation for his coaching, having taken five teams to the NCAA playoffs, two of which finished in the Sweet 16. In April 2007, the National Association of Basketball Coaches awarded him the Division III Service Award, which was presented at the NCAA Final Four tournament. Johnson finishes his E&H coaching career with 370 wins and 334 losses. He was honored three times as Old Dominion Athletic Conference Coach of the Year and three times as the NCAA South Region Coach of the Year."

I wish you all the best in 2008 and look forward to seeing and hearing more about your growth and good deeds!

Dale

QUICK THOUGHT TO START THE WEEK

Bird Watching

I spent Sunday afternoon at the very southern tip of Fort Fisher. I parked my car at the end of the road (literally) and sat looking across the Cape Fear Sound. I was intending to go for a run and maybe study some ideas for packaging a client's product but the sun, blue sky and quiet lapping water had warmed my soul and, perhaps, made me so introspective I just wanted to sit and let my mind go for a bit.

I sat with the forty-foot-tall mound of sand marking the last redoubt (aptly named Mound Redoubt) (thanks to roaddog from Illinois for correcting me. "That would have been Battery Buchanon you were at if you were down by the rocks, south of the ferry.The Mound battery was further to the north and a part of the main fort.." Thanks for reading and thanks for the help in making the post better;-) in the old fort at my back looking across the acres of marsh that spread out along the eastern edge of the land leading it out to the breakwater ridges of sand and scrub guarding the sound from the Atlantic Ocean. As I jotted down some notes on a recent multimedia project a shadow darkened my padfolio and I looked up to see a great white bird gliding over. I recognized it as a Great Egret; about 3-4 feet high and with a 4-5 feet wingspan. It circled the marsh for a few minutes then parachuted to the ground.

The bird touched down about 75 feet away and, after a few position adjustments, straightened its back and stared back at me. There we were: the bird looking at me thinking 'what is that thing and why is it looking at me?' Me looking back making up that scenario of the bird thinking about me. For some reason, perhaps I was tired of watching and wincing at the woman out in the water learning to windsurf and falling face first into the chest deep water each time she tugged the plastic sail up from the water, I watched the bird for half an hour.

There was a simple elegance about it. Once it had gotten used to me, it stood looking patiently out over the reeds on two long, spindly black legs. It didn't move for the entire thirty minutes. Then, without any warning, it jabbed it's long yellow beak down into the reeds and came up with a silver. struggling fish. It shook the fish once, then tossed it up and swallowed it. Then it went back to standing and staring. Very efficient, and obviously, very effective.

Again, I felt introspective. A life insurance salesperson would say that life is a long process for most. They could even show a life expectancy chart to prove it. When we want something, we usually run around trying to make it happen. How much of that running helps us achieve or get what we want? The Great Egret flew around finding the best ground, landed, then patiently stood watching until the fish came by, then WHAM! it struck with precision. Lunch, or a late afternoon snack or third meal...or whatever egrets call their eating times.

The egret proves that planning is important, patience is vital and striking quickly makes all the difference in a beak full of mud or a great lunch. This week try being the egret: plan carefully (make sure you've chosen the very best hunting ground) then wait for the right opportunity and strike quickly and with precision.

IF YOU BUILD IT, HE WILL COME

HELP BUILD COURAGE, CHARACTER, LEGACY AND A BETTER FUTURE. DO A GREAT BIG, SMALL THING AND HELP BUILD FRED SELFE STADIUM!

Fred Selfe Sports Complex, Emory and Henry College

This classic, small college design includes a ProTurf field, new attractive field house, home stands with press box, visitor's stands, and a fence that blends with the surrounding buildings. It's a wonderful new design--not too overstated and not too understated. It's simple, strong, clean, and does the job. It's Emory and Henry and a field of which Coach Fred Selfe would be extremely proud. Of course, he would fight like hell to keep his name off it, but he would beam with pride each time the Wasps swarmed onto its field.

Help us make the field a reality and break ground in early 2008.

How often do you get the chance to play a role in shaping thousands of young minds and lives? The tab for the complex is a very doable $4.5 million. You can write a check, and find others who will do the same. There are a number of naming opportunities--rooms, lockers, buildings, etc.--and your family, company or organization can show that you really care about the Fred Selfe's of the world who work, sacrifice and serve to save our culture from a certain downhill slide; people who serve with no thought of awards or spotlights or even a thank you. You can show you care about those people by helping us build this important foundation.

Do a Great Big Small Thing and build Fred Selfe Stadium.

If you'd like to help please email me directly: dalemcglothlin@ec.rr.com

LOOK UP! LOOK UP!

The Clouds are Lifting, the Sun is Breaking Through. We are Coming out of the Darkness into the Light

Charlie Chapin’s 1940 satire of Nazi Germany, The Great Dictator, is a brilliant film. Besides being his first “talkie” it’s also an amazingly prophetic work about the aims of Nazism and the plight of Jews in Europe. In it, a Jewish barber is mistaken for the dictator, Adenoid Hynkel. In my humble observation, the true brilliance of this film is found in the Chaplin’s final speech by the “barber.” Considering it was written in 1940, it has some extremely relevant observations and equally applicable advice in these chaotic times. The following

is the speech:

I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible, Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another, human beings are like that. We all want to live by each other's happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone and the earth is rich and can provide for everyone.

The way of life can be free and beautiful. But we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate; has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed.

We have developed speed but we have shut ourselves in: Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little: More than machinery we need humanity; more than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.

The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say "Do not despair."

The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress: the hate of men will pass and dictators die and the power they took from the people, will return to the people and so long as men die liberty will never perish.
Soldiers: don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you and enslave you, who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you as cattle, as cannon fodder.

Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate, only the unloved hate. Only the unloved and the unnatural.
Soldiers: Don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty. In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written: “The kingdom of God is within man.” Not one man, nor a group of men, but in all men; in you, the people.

You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy let's use that power, let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work that will give you the future and old age and security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They do not fulfill their promise, they never will! Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfill that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men's happiness.

Soldiers! In the name of democracy, let us all unite!

Look up! Look up! The clouds are lifting, the sun is breaking through. We are coming out of the darkness into the light. We are coming into a new world: A kind, new world where men will rise above their greed, their hate, and their brutality.

The soul of man has been given wings, and at last he is beginning to fly. He is flying into the rainbow, into the light of hope, into the future, that glorious future that belongs to you, to me and to all of us. Look up! Look up!

TEAM HOYT

This was shared by my beautiful friend Maria from Cullman, Alabama and is one of the greatest stories of love, inspiration, kindness and selflessness I have ever encountered. I will bet you cannot watch this story without shedding a tear...not of sadness, but of joy. Please pass this along to everyone you know.

A LITTLE SPARK OF LOVE AND HUMANITY

I received this the other day as one of those pesky viral emails. Goodness knows how many times it's circled the globe. I thought I'd give a perfuctory read then hit delete (as I do most of those pesky viral emails) but when I read it I was faced with a choice. I spend a good deal of time searching for personal encounters and events or filtering through unique thoughts to develop posts that will reflect the character and life-lessons of Fred Selfe. Lessons that will provide one more grain of sand; a single thought or act that may tip the scale of your life for good. So, when I read this much-passed-along story, I had to decide if it was one of those grains--would it help others make good choices to bettter themselves. Is the message better than one I could post to tell the same story and give the reader the same grain? I believe it will, so instead of posting the original story I intended, I am posting it. Enjoy!

Have a Shay Day

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child." Then he told the following story:Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?" Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps. Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."

Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball ... the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the way Shay" Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third!" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!"

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team. "That day", said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

AND NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY: We all send out thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate. If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people in your address book who aren't the "appropriate" ones to receive this type of message. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the "natural order of things." So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process? A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats the least fortunate amongst them. Have a Shay day!

BE NICE OR PAULA DEEN WILL EAT YOUR HEAD

Why is Common Courtesy so Uncommon These Days?

My friend Amy from Va. Beach gave me an idea for a post. She wondered aloud tonight what had happened to common courtesy in our society and I was jolted into remembering twice in the past few weeks when I was asked myself the same.

Once my sister, brother-in-law and niece were enjoying the movie Ratatouille and the woman in front of us started talking on her cell phone. Talking on her phone in the middle of a movie! Her husband obviously recognized her gross faux pas and tried to get her to put the phone away, but she promptly swatted him with her open hand and yelled at him. Then, this past Saturday my niece and I were stretched out on the beach reading when four people crammed themselves in the narrow space between us and the next group of people AND, once they’d gotten their chairs where they wanted them, their cooler unpacked, and all helped apply tanning lotion to each other they turned on a boom box and cranked the volume up to the point at which I could no longer enjoy my book.

So, again I ask, what happened to common courtesy? I’m considering calling Nancy Grace or Greta Van Susteren and setting those bloodhounds loose on the trail of our missing decency, civility and proper etiquette. They have vanished and in their place we find isolation, unkindness, insensitivity, poor manners, and excuse-making.

Here’s a little test for you to try this week: Open the door for as many people as you can for the next seven days and record how many people say thank you. Then come back here and post your results.

I’m not going into all the possible reasons for the continued lack of common courtesy here (that post could be a book in the making), but will, instead, say we should stop tolerating it. If we let it happen we are complicit in it. Instead we can each stand up and change it.

Here are 10 Ways to Make Courtesy Common Once Again:
10. Say please and thank you

9. Open the door for the person in front of you and turn to see if you can hold it for anyone coming in after

8. When you go indoors, put your cell phone on vibrate and turn it off in the theatre, church, a quiet restaurant or any place where people meet and talk

7. When the lane in which you are driving is ending, let the driver in the right lane go in front of you

6. When you walk in front of someone in a grocery store or
book store say, “Excuse me.”

5. Return phone calls as soon as the opportunity arises

4. Send thank you notes or emails when you receive a gift

3. If you use call waiting, don’t! If you feel you must, when
you are one call and another comes say, “Will you excuse
me one moment,” switch to the incoming call and that caller
you will call them right back, then return to the original call

2. Live up to your promises. That goes for being on time.

1. When someone says hello, return the greeting with a smile

Fight anger, disrespect and disregard with love, grace, kindness, and thinking of others before yourself. Turn them around with common courtesy—and if that doesn't work we can sentence them to community service cleaning up after Paula Deen--voted the nicest woman in the U.S. She’d kill them with kindness or eat their big fat heads.

CAPITOL HELL

The People Who Make Money Dividing Us Are Killing Our Country One Advertisement at a Time.

I guess I've spent so much time in NC lately that I forget what DC is really like. Don't get me wrong, I love the city--love the parks, the museums, bars, restaurants, art, architecture, etc., but some of the people make me quezy. I have really good friends there, and my former teammates on the Virginia Congressional Softball Team, Big Tobacco [formerly The Va. Hams] are great people. It's the smarmy political pimps that turn my stomach.

I was on Capitol Hill yesterday visiting some friends. It was a normal mid-summer DC day--hot, muggy, just rained buckets and the water was already evaporating. I asked one friend, (I won't disclose the person's name--all I will say is that he is a senior staffer in the office of a Republican Congressman from a state in the southern U.S.) what was new on the Hill. After a ten minute recap of the newspaper, The Hill's "Hottest on the Hill" list, he told me how the Republicans were reacting to the recent ads the Dems are running congratulating themselves on their accomplishments.

I'll paraphrase: They did this, so we're doing this. They want voters to believe this, so we're going to do a direct mail campaign to likely Republican voters on how they did this and that and more of this. "Off the record, we're using a new database to find disaffected voters and..." [Okay, I'll keep the content secret, but you get the idea.] Thirty minutes later I was shaking my head. I realize that with two parties heading into elections there will be competition, but this was a plan for war. In fact, it was a brutal assessment of how one side would dismember and destroy the other. To be fair, I called up a Dem. friend and solicited what he knew of his party's plans and, not surprisingly, they sounded just like the Republicans.

What I realized is that, while traveling around and working in NC, I see what American voters [and I would challenge my demographer/pollster friends to check this, but I believe the people I've met an ideal cross-section of American voters] think about their government and the political process. It ain't good. People have lost hope. I went online and these are the first legitimate poll numbers I came across. Here's what a recent AP poll found:

• Only 24 percent of those polled approve of the job the Congress is doing as a whole
  


• Poll respondents from both political parties say they're tired of the bickering between Congress and the White House, and they want the two branches of government to work together on such issues as education, health care and the Iraq war
  
  
• While public approval of Congress has dropped 11 points since May, the percentage of Democrats who are turning up their noses at Congress nearly doubled
  
  
• Approval among Democrats fell 21 points, down from 48 percent in May to 27 percent
  


• Approval of Republicans, at 20 percent, has not changed significantly in the past two months



• Only one-fourth of the people, or 26 percent, said the country is headed in the right direction

These numbers are pathetic! What would happen if a corporate executive got this "vote of confidence" from board members? He or she would be out the door tomorrow. What would a board of education do to a principal who received this kind of feedback from teachers and the community? Gone! And, the saddest part is that these numbers are normal. Sure, they go up and down a bit, but, for the most part, they are status quo. Am I supposed to tell my young cousin and little buddy, Graham Warren, this is what he should expect from his country? I refuse to do that. He deserves better--we all do.

So, what's being done about it? You have to ask yourself, if this isn't one of the major contributors to the sorry state of our culture. I certainly believe it plays a significant role. If we don't trust--can't trust--our elected leaders, what does that do to us? I've written before about the fact that most Americans claim they have no heroes. Is that any wonder when you consider that the guy getting ready to break a long-standing baseball record may be indicted for steroid use just after he hits number 756? Will slapping an asterisk on the number restore confidence in our national past-time? Will we never recover from the "depends of what the definition of 'is' is?" Have we finally fallen into the gray area of relativity and drowned in it?

I wondered if there a group within either political party working on reforming the party? Anyone turning over the tables or putting up barricades and lighting torches? So, I called my political consulting friends and even a woman I know who works for the RNC. Guess what? They don't believe there is anything in need of reform!! They like the way things [don't] work. Again, I used my contacts inside the Republicans,but I guarantee the DNC is the same. Same monster under a different bed.

The fewer people vote, the less work they must do. They spend less reaching smaller and smaller groups. The fewer people the more that can rely on micro-targeting to differentiate and market to those people. As Harvey Kronberg,editor of the Quorum Report, notes in a recent article, "Karl Rove ran the 2004 presidential campaign on the premise the political center had evaporated and the country was sharply divided into right and left. In his book, Applebee Nation, former Bush pollster Matthew Dowd explained their campaign didn't try to win converts. Instead, it used a technique called micro-targeting to find and turn out likely Republican voters in otherwise Democratic strongholds."

Guess what, people like Karl Rove are responsible for dividing the nation into right and left--rich and poor--white and black and brown--for or against the war. They want us divided so they can prey upon our fears. They incite anger over an issue then provide the opponent. They want us divided just so they can herd us to the polling place to cast a vote. They don't care about the long-term consequence of that division. Instead of relating through what we share: a common American culture, national language, desire to see our children healthy and prosperous, belief in an "inalienable" right "endowed by our Creator" to personal freedom...we're left divided by our position on abortion or the Iraq war or stem cell research or amnesty for illegal aliens or "tastes great, less filling."

Once they've spent hundreds of millions of dollars dividing us through constant media images, they collect their paychecks, their candidates become elected representatives and we [the governed] get screwed. Now we're all riled up over some issue, expect these people to solve that problem and we're sorely disappointed when they can't do it. We dislike the people they've convinced us are the people creating the problem and we're ready to fight. This cycle happens over and over from the local town council to our U.S. reps. that we come to beleive that there is no solution. There are no solutions. So we quit. We quit voting and even worse, we quit caring. We tune out of those issues and tune into American Idol or CSI or Paris Hilton [God forbid!!]

The people we elect get hit too, because they KNOW they cannot solve the problem [which may or may not actually exist] and end up with only 20 percent of the American people liking them.

20 percent!!! Look at it this way, you're at a cabin in the woods with 10 other people. Only two of them like you--the other eight think you're a tool and want you to leave. How would that feel?

We must change this! We have to stop taking it from the political consultants and fight back for decency. Question everything and refuse to stop until we get real answers. Hold people accountable for what they promise. Fight for a reformed process where the political parties [preferably more than two] stand for a non-moving set of principles and the process works to attract more voters instead of locking out those people. Demand that the people we elect STOP PLAYING POLITICS and GOVERN...and GOVERN WELL.

If we refuse to eat the pabulum, someone...SOMEONE PLEASE...will step up and lead us into a better, more unifying process. If not, we're doomed and we can't blame the damn dirty apes.

FISH TACOS AND FAST COMPANIES

“A great part of courage is the courage of having done the things before.”

I overheard a business conversation last week at a little oceanfront, locals-only, surfer hangout at Wrightsville Beach that got me thinking. I've been involved with management and leadership for the past 20 years and am always interested in learning more and better ways of doing things. I believe being a leader is an organic process that begins when you decide it begins and ends when you die. You read, experience, question, challenge, fail, get up, and continue to move forward. Being humble enough to accept you’ll never know everything and living as a constant student is not easy, but it’s a wonderful way to live. Each time I visit my friend Jeff Scheffer, CEO of Stanley Furniture, I peek at the stack of books on his desk he’s reading and digesting. So, I perked up when the women began discussing their company, of which one was an SVP or C-level.

I was semi-quietly munching on a fish taco (hard shell, not soft and dumbly covered in Sriracha so I was also trying to stop the burning) and overheard a woman in a gray, chalk-stripe business suit (closer to my age than the 20-something crowd also having fish tacos) tell her companion the following [paraphrased because I could only hear some of the conversation over the crunching of the taco shells, nursing my burnt tongue, and The Connell's wailing from the speakers: "I want to make [company name] a place where we are constantly challenging the way we do things. A place where we consistently innovate and do something new. But, I'm worried about how we achieve that. How do we continue to focus on our customers and the process at the same time?"

Great question (and great fish taco--best I've had since my days working in San Diego.) For some reason, perhaps due to an email I received from him last week, I thought of my friend Paul Harris. Paul is a partner in a boutique law firm in D.C. where he migrated from Raytheon and before that the Bush Admin's first term as Deputy Assistant U.S. Attorney General. When I met him, though, he was a young lawyer in Charlottesville, Va. running for Virginia's House of Delegates. I jumped in to help. We sat on my front porch each evening with cigars and Bourbon discussing big issues, planning the campaign and deciding to try a new strategy: Paul would never mention his opponent's name and he wouldn't say even one negative thing during the entire campaign--which included negative ads that the Richmond consultants were already warning us we “had” to do or we’d lose.

One thing I quickly noticed about Paul as journalists pounced on him and his opponent got his shots in at debates and joint appearances. Instead of the larger issue, broader questions we’d discussed on my front porch, they were tossing out obscure and micro-subject questions: How Chinese apple imports were affecting growers in Rockingham Co., or a new connector parkway cutting through the countryside of the city and county. Paul amazed me (and the electorate) with his answers. Instead of acting like he knew anything about the apple growers in Rockingham, he stripped that away and went straight to the principle of the issue. Should we protect American products from cheap foreign imports? Time and again he got to the root—the principle—of the issue and gave his response based on his stand on the principle. It was a breath of fresh air and it showed in the results: he won the primary against a ferret-like opponent with 73 percent of the vote and the general election by 66 percent. Paul became the first black Republican elected to Virginia’s General Assembly since Reconstruction. I think it was the conviction with which he answered questioned that made the difference.

I wanted to put down my fish taco (but I just could not because it was soooo good) and tell the woman behind me that perhaps that was the way she could consistently challenge the status quo and maintain her foundation at the same time. She could balance her objectives by continuously innovating, changing, adapting, moving forward AND remain true to her company’s ethos by keeping their principles at the front of every choice she made. Stripping away the superfluous details and using the principle to guide you as you kick down walls and go into the unknown.

She could take the advice of Ralph Waldo Emerson who said, “A great part of courage is the courage of having done the things before.”

I wanted to stick around and maybe talk with them--perhaps share my supreme knowledge and professional advice--but I'd licked the sun and had to run away like a baby to find something to quench the fire. Oh, in case you try this, Corona--very cold Corona--works best;-)

WHY NOT ME?

You Can Be or Do Anything---ANYTHING!
Suck It Up, Princess and Get Busy Making It Happen!

I've just gotten back from an annual guy's weekend in mountains of extreme western North Carolina. For 23 years we've been getting together in some form to golf, hike, eat, drink, laugh and attend the Gathering of the Clans and Scottish Games on Grandfather Mt.

We had a wonderful time playing golf (shot a good round despite the strained back muscles--*never accept last minute swing tips from your scratch golfer friend), relaxing and drinking on the deck of a restaurant looking out over 40 miles of mountains and deep, curving valleys, and hiking up to Table Rock (despite the five-foot-long Rattlesnake in the path on the way down that caused Pat Houghton to wet his shorts.) But, it was on the long, lonely drive down there that I experienced a great "Fred Selfe moment."

Somewhere along the way I picked up the mobile phone and returned a call from Dr. Charles Sydnor. He's been a mentor since college and I always enjoy the chance to talk with him--about Nazis (a subject on which he is an expert) or football or business or just to catch up on life. Dr. Syndor (he KEEPS asking me call him Charlie, but I simply cannot do it, just as I cannot call my friend Virgil Goode anything other than "Congressman Goode") recently retired as CEO of Central Va. Educational Television and is back helping Emory and Henry and the new president, Dr. Reichard, with major development projects like Fred Selfe Stadium and the Center for the Arts. We talked so intently about the college's new sports complex and raising money for the $5 million project that I almost missed the first chapter of a new book on CD I'd purchased for the trip--Donny Deutsch's Often Wrong, Never in Doubt.

I've been watching Donny's show, The Big Idea (weeknights 10pm CNBC), for a few months now and really enjoy it. Could be Donny's style: refreshing, open, caution-to-the-wind, friendly and relaxed. Or perhaps it's the jeans, blazer and open collar dress shirt look, or the tough Queens, NY dialect, or the way he easily goes from politics to economics to pop culture that makes the show attractive to me. Whatever it is made me pick up the book on CD and now I had to go back and start it again. And I'm glad I did.

The "Fred Selfe moment" came when Donny described his life philosophy that took him from Van Buren High School to his multi-million dollar advertising agency and the CNBC show. He calls it: "Why not me?" It is the process of being driven by looking around at what you want, then converting that passive "wanting" into a true sense of ownership of the "want." Hey that guy has a successful business and I'm smarter, cooler, a better salesman, a better leader, possess a bigger set of cajones--why not me? The answer has to be I CAN! Ninety-nine percent of people are not born "great"--they work at it. They pull themselves up from the coalfields of Virginia or out of the streets of Brooklyn with the mindset that they can be or do anything. If you dream of being the CEO of a major company, take the steps to get there. If you want to be president of the U.S. know--really KNOW--that you CAN be that and get to work making it happen.

Once you own the "WHY NOT ME?"--change your thinking to I CAN BE/DO ANYTHING anyone else can be/do, you just have to figure out how to go about it. Simple.

That's really what The Big Idea is all about about probably why I like it so much. One night it's Bill Gates, the next night it's a mom, Alicia Shaffer, who turned her need for a better, more fashionable way to carry her baby into a million dollar product, the Peanut Shell sling.

If your sitting there with a big idea, or just looking at your mediocre company and wondering why a competitor is getting all the business or media attention, ask yourself "Why not me?" --I can do that--then taking the steps to make it happen. The only thing separating you from that success is the decision to BE that thing.

INDEPENDENCE DAY

Happy Fourth of July!

Enjoy the day with family and friends, but remember those who came before us and those who serve us now--our troops and their families.

Okay, one rant because I just cannot resist: I was watching the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest (this is the start of the problem) live from Coney Island and overheard the emcee call the line of very odd men and women sitting in front of piles meat and buns, "athletes." Are you kidding? As someone who has been around real athletes I am appalled they call a guy dressed in a giant coonskin hat or a skinny Japanese guy with yellow hair who stuffs things into their mouths "athletes."

It's another fine example of how we tear things down--standards or titles--because the majority of people cannot reach them. Instead of raising people up to higher standards, we simply pull down the standard so anyone who can eat something quickly can be called an athlete. How would it look to see some slob covered in hot dog parts on the cover of Sports Illustrated alongside Venus Williams, Lance Armstrong, LeBron James, Peyton Manning, or Clinton "Ramgage" Jackson.We keep denigrating rare things until they no longer have meaning. And our culture shows it...so few have meaning.

Same thing goes for "video game athletes." These people sit on their backsides and press buttons. THEY ARE NON-ATHLETES! Get outside and skateboard for yourself. You are not Tony Hawk bacause you play his video game. To be Tony Hawk you have to skateboard--outside on a REAL skateboard with your own body. In fact, you have to master skateboarding and that cannot be done by flicking buttons sitting on a sofa. Instead of sitting around your living room in your nasty pajamas and thumbing your way to John Madden NFL glory, get outside and play the game. throw a ball; catch or kick one. Then, call yourself an athlete. Heck, call yourself John Madden for all I care, but if you don't play the game, don't take on a title you don't deserve.

On Paula Abdul's new reality show, Hey Paula!, her very odd stylist tells her people are trying to tear her down and she replies, "But I'm a warrior." A warrior? Is she kidding? She fights to stay sane or to find a new job or get to the Grammys on time, but she is NOT a warrior. The Marine (Maj. Doug Zembiec) in the post below is a warrior. My cousin Maj. Andrew Warren is a warrior. Paula Abdul is a quasi-entertainer.

Mr. Conspicuous Consumption, Arnold Schwarzenenegger calls himself an environmentalist because he has a hybrid Hummer? Or Al Gore whose carbon footprint on his five or six homes is greater than Honduras? We've used the word "revolution" to describe everything from razors to diet drugs to cat litter. What are we going to call an armed insurrection if we have one? Did I just answer my own question? Okay, what about the word "Czar"? Comes from the Latin "Caesar" and has been used as a title to describe the supreme ruler of Bulgaria, Serbia and Russia since the 900s. Now we have drug czars, war czars, energy czars, cupcake czars. When does the insanity end?

Drug dealers are not "alternative pharmacists."

Al Sharpton is not a "Reverend."

Bloggers are not "journalists."

Dr. Love is not a "Doctor." Come to think of it, neither is Dr. Hook. Oh, and hate to break your heart, but the Captain, of Capt. and Tennille fame, is not a "Captain."

Paris Hilton is not a ... well, Paris Hilton is nothing really.

Competitive eaters are not athletes. They are people who stuff foods into their bodies. Let's stop tearing down high standards and rare titles. Gives us all something for which to shoot. So the American guy, Joey Chestnut, who just beat the reigning champ, Takeru Kobayashi, by downing 66 hot dogs in 12 mins. should wake this morning and call himself a competitive eater or food stuffer, but not an athlete. Oh, and hot dogs are not really dogs, so maybe we should also rethink that.

WEAR IT, DECLARE IT, SHARE IT!

New Clothing Line Raises Awareness of Men and Women Serving in Our Military

My three nieces Kirsten (16), Connor (10) and Kaycie (8) sparked an idea that may make a big difference in our society. We were discussing our cousin Drew's service in Iraq and Afghanistan and what his family goes through while he is away for so many months. My three little girls had plenty to say about what it would be like if their fathers had to be away for that long. What it would be like not to have them kiss them goodnight, or read a bedtime story, or let them curl up in their lap watching TV.

One of my nieces blurted out that she didn't like war and the other two quickly agreed. According to them war is "yucky," "dirty" and "hurts good people." I seconded (fourthed?) their dislike of war and--in typical avuncular style--started into the theory of a "just war."

Big mistake. I knew I'd gone to far when little eyes glazed over and gum-filled mouths slowed and slacked as I waxed about the thoughts of Cicero, Augustine and Thomas Aquinas. "Uncle Dale," one of my nieces interrupted, "Are they your friends?" "Another asked, "Are they soldiers?"

Hmmm...I had fallen into the uncle trap. They were smart, but as I got into theory and philosophy I'd gone from cool guy to teacher in a flash. Instead of bore them any more, I decided to turn the conversation to what had sparked the conversation in the first place: the people in uniform serving in time of a war that has no boundaries and no definitive end point. I shifted the conversation to our cousin Ryan McGlothlin, a 26-year-old Marine 2Lt. killed in Iraq in 2005. Ryan was on a full ride fellowship to Stanford's doctoral program when he joined the Marines. After Sept. 11, he felt he needed to give back. He told his father, “Dad, I’ve been born into privilege, why should I ride on the backs of others?” He wrote to his family, “I know this war is not the most popular one back home, “but people must understand that to pull out before the Iraqi army is fully ready to assume responsibility for the security of their own country is not only irresponsible of us but would ensure the persistence of terrorism. If you walk through these cities and see how terrified Iraqi citizens are of the terrorists and how thankful they are that we finally came to their cities, you could not possibly consider doing this job incompletely.”

My nieces were riveted and I felt my heart slow and tears welling up as I recounted the story. Like most rural families, the McGlothins are close. We scratched out an existence in the hollows of Russell, Tazewell and Buchanan counties in far off fields and coal mines of southwestern Virginia. Ryan's death had affected all of us and I remembered the call from my dad when it happened. I sat back from my desk overlooking Conn. Ave in DC, then asked my assistant to hold my calls and meetings and walked around Dupont Circle for hours in a fog. I queried the girls: Did they know that about their cousin Ryan? That he'd given up his studies at Stanford to serve? Did they know that young people, men and women just a few years older than my oldest niece, were serving in Iraq and Afghanistan? Did they know that sometimes those young people who were doing their jobs because we ask them to, were wounded and killed? Silence fell over their little faces as they thought and thought about my questions.

One of the nieces finally broke the silence, "My friends don't know anything about Ryan. They don't think about anything but clothes and movies and the beach. Why don't we care more about good people like Ryan and Drew who serve in the army for us?" I didn't have an answer. "Uncle Dale, we should do something to get people to care about the boys and girls like Ryan and Drew who are in the war." The other two girls agreed. "We should make something so that people will remember them." Great idea! But what could we do?

That question consumed me for weeks. One morning as I was searching through U.K. coverage of the war, it hit me. It was right there in front of me--had been for years! The red poppy! Since I was a kid riding around our hometown with my grandfather I'd seen the VFW selling little plastic lapel poppies on street corners around Veterans Day, but as their numbers decline I've seen them less and less. In the U.K. and Canada, however, the poppy was everywhere. That was it! We could create a new look for the red poppy and create a line of clothing so that people could wear it to show they remember and appreciate the men and women in our military.

After a month or two of hard work we did it! Our line of tees, hooded sweatshirts and hats are now out and ready to roll. My nieces are so proud of them and are modeling the clothing for our website (which we hope to have up soon.) They are learning about costing, marketing, production, and design and the clothing will keep those marines, soldiers, sailors and airmen in people's minds and hearts.

We hope our new "rememberthem" logo really takes off and begins to appear everywhere. One of the girls suggested we give back too. So, for each item we sell, we're giving a percentage to the Fisher House--a nonprofit that provides a place to stay for family members of injured military personnel so they can be with them as they receive medical attention. Come on, wear "the power of the flower" and put on a Red Poppy to show you care about the men and women in uniform. This is not about whether you agree or disagree with the politics of war--it's about the sacrifice, dedication and service of people like Ryan and Drew. Yes, war is "yucky" and "dirty" and "hurts good people." But, the people who serve in our Armed Forces are our brothers and sisters, cousins, uncles, friends, neighbors, coworkers and even total strangers to whom we owe a debt. We must remember them. Above the din of anger and accusation and political rhetoric Remember Them!

HE EARNED IT!

I'd give this guy a buck

For creativity and his show of cajone-ness--I might even give him a fiver.

Priceless!

THE LION OF FALLUJAH

Remembering All Our Young Lions

I had dinner with my cousin Maj. Andrew (Drew) Warren and his lovely/lively wife Alice last night. I mentioned that just that morning I was in Barnes and Noble and happened upon a new book, Warlords, by 2LT Ilario Pantano, a Marine you may remember from the trial over his accusal of murder of two insurgents in the combat zone. Pantano had served under my cousin while awaiting trial and I found his acknowledgement in the first pages of the book: "To Maj. Warren for teaching us to 'be the hunter instead of the hunted.'"

We talked about Pantano for a bit then Drew asked if I'd heard of Maj. Doug Zembiec? I read and watch plenty of network and cable news, yet the name didn't ring a bell. He said he'd just returned from Zembiec's funeral in DC and wondered aloud why the media didn't make a big deal about the death of a man like Maj. Zembiec with whom he'd served in Kosovo, Afghanistan and Iraq. Zembiec was the commander of E Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment. He has become known as the Lion of Fallujah, after a comment he made to the press after a fierce battle that his Marines "fought like lions..." but he was also given the name for his own personal tenacity and toughness.

I know Drew pretty well and when he (like most Marines) is impressed by someones character that person must be one heck of a leader. I found some stories about Maj. Zembiec and added them here so my readers will have a chance to know Maj. Zembiec and remember him for his service and sacrifice.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/05/16/AR2007051602860.html

http://www.militaryphotos.net/forums/showthread.php?t=112375

http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/local/annearundel/bal-soldier0514,0,3270173.story?coll=bal-local-arundel

Rest in Peace, Maj. Zembiec. Thank you for your service and sacrifice,
Wear a red poppy in remembrance of this lion and the others who serve for us.

ATTACKING THE ANGRY LOBSTER

Defeating the Big Things
Find your place to stand and you can move your world!

I was wandering around downtown Wilmington, North Carolina last week admiring the waterfront area with its restaurants, coffee houses, bars, antique stores, art galleries, and scores of other small businesses. I grabbed a cup of coffee from a local shop and stood admiring the water lapping against the wooden walkway that snakes along the waterfront giving visitors a great view of the spires and towers of the city's oldest attraction, the retired battleship North Carolina. I was lost--my mind numbed by repetitive slap, slap, slapping of the water against the wood. Suddenly someone touched my arm. I was so surprised I jumped, sloshing coffee all over the wooden planks. I turned to find a young man with a beard standing looking at me. While I was shocked by the encounter, he seemed nonplussed. I smiled to hide my embarrassment and he returned the smile as he apologized for scaring me. "Sorry bout that man!"

I did my best to play it off, but how often does a stranger actually touch you? I was in my own world one moment, the next a total stranger was inside my space bubble and touching my arm. Once I had my wits about me, I looked at the young man: he was dressed in dirty flip-flops and his feet were caked with grime. His shorts and zip-front sweat shirt had smudges of dirt and food drippings long-ground into the cotton fabric. His beard was scraggly and uncut for some time.

"Hey man, I'm trying to get one of those cups of coffee . . ." he pointed toward my half-full cup. "And I wonder if you might have a few extra coins . . . a quarter or two?" How often had I heard that line? I live in downtown DC where every twenty feet someone needs a little money "for bus fare just to get home," or "trying to get something to eat" or a "homeless Vietnam vet" trying to make do. Yet, this guy was different. First off he was young--maybe late twenties and most of the sidewalk and door frame panhandlers in DC are older.

In DC when asked for money for something to eat, I usually ask if I can get them something to eat at the closest fast food place. That usually ends the conversation as the person is not really going to use the money for food--I assume the real need is alcohol or drugs.

So, I offered to walk with guy back to the coffee shop to refill my cup and buy him one. To my surprise he accepted. As we walked I decided to strike up a conversation during which he was surprisingly open and frank. His name was Brian and he'd come to town a few years ago to attend college at UNC Wilmington but never graduated. He surfed. He worked as a "grip" in the local movie industry "sometimes." He was living in the apartment of a girl he'd met surfing at Wrightsville Beach a few months ago. He slept in his sleeping bag in the living room of the one bedroom apartment, but she was moving back to New Jersey and he was looking for another place. He was smart, articulate, and had a warm, kind smile. How could this guy be on the streets?

As he loaded his coffee with enough sugar to make a small cake I asked why he hadn't finished his studies at UNCW. "It was too big for me. I stood back and looked at it and it was just too much." He pointed his wooden stirring stick at me and said, "You probably think I'm a druggie, don't you?" I was stunned. I mean, yes I had assumed he did drugs and that was the reason for his current state, but his direct question threw me off and I couldn't answer. "Sure, you do. But, I'm not. I don't do drugs or drink alcohol. I just can't deal with the world, man. If you can't win, why play?" He laughed and turned to leave. "Thanks for the coffee man I'll pay you back one day." He winked and ambled on down Front Street

I spent the afternoon thinking about Brian's fear of the world; because as I see it that's exactly what it is: .Fear. That is so foreign to me--it's just not the way I look at things. I see a hurdle or challenge and roll up my sleeves and figure out how to take it on. Brian was a reality check. Hey, Dale, not everyone sees the world as you do. Not everyone thinks there's a monster under the bed and grabs the broom to see if it's true. Some people look at "big things" and think them too big. Some see an obstacle in their path and turn around and go back instead of taking it on. Some hide under the covers until they fall asleep or the sun comes up.

Not everyone is as afflicted by their fear as Brian. You may not be surfing and sleeping in someone’s living room, but perhaps you are afraid to go back to school to finish your degree, or change jobs even though you know it would better your life, or stop smoking, or lose weight, or even to stand up and let your voice be heard.

One of my favorite new books (I've mentioned this before) is Robert Greene's The 33 Strategies of War. In it there is brilliant example of how Brian and people like him who are afraid to take on "big things." A lobster looks intimidating. Can you imagine what a shrimp sees when it comes across a lobster? Imagine, if you will, a monster lobster--one the size of an RV. How would you see it? Huge? Well-armored? Scary? Here's how Greene describes it: "Its sharp claws quick to grab, it's hard protective shell, it's powerful tail propelling it out of danger." Intimidating? Sure it is. But, stop for a moment and think of its weakness. Think of the best way to defeat it. Flip it over. Yes, it's that simple. Underneath there is very little of the thick plating found on top. There is a soft underbelly. Many cracks and chinks in the thinned armor. Plus, the lobster on its back is helpless. All you need to defeat the lobster is a stick. A lever! As Archimedes (who did not discover the lever, but was the first to offer a mathematical explanation of how one works) said, "Give me a place to stand and I will move the world." With these simple things the monster lobster is not so "big." Not so intimidating. Not so scary. In fact, once you have it on its back, it's downright pitiful.

Find your place to stand!

IS IT FULL?

I don't usually pass along the many, many stories I receive via email each day, but this one is really worth it. My good friend Paul Overbay forwarded it to me and it really struck a chord. I've been traveling and working in NC and haven't had a chance to sit down to create a post in two long weeks. When I finally sat down this morning with the intention of whipping up a message, I first opened Paul's email with my coffee and it was so good I think I'll use it as the post. Thanks to those who passed it along and to Paul for passing it to me.

Priorities and Your Life Container
When things in your life seem almost too much too handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the two cups of coffee.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full they agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed. "Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things: God, family, your children, your health, your friends, and your favorite passions--things that if everything else was lost and only they remained your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, and your car.The sand is everything else -- the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.

The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18 holes. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls first -- the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented.The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

GO INTO THE DARK

Are You Where You Should Be or Some Other Place?

A man walking his dog late one night in a dark parking lot spies another man on his knees under a lamppost. The man is swaying back and forth—obviously drunk. So, the man walks his dog over to the man and politely asks, “Excuse me, sir, can I help you find something?”

The man on his knees looks up with bloodshot eyes and replies with slurred words, “I . . . I’m looking for my keys. I think I lost them over there near the door to that bar.”

The man with the dog looks over to extremely dark area near the door. “Sir, if you lost them in over near that door why are you way over here under this lamppost looking for them?”

“Because, dummy,” retorts the drunk man. “This is where the light is.”

Are you where you want to be in your life? Where you need to be? The self-help market in this country is estimated to be worth almost $11 billion. That’s billion with a capital B! That figure seems to indicate that most people are not where they need to be. At least the people buying those books, CDs, and materials are searching, the rest are under the lamppost. We are where the light is instead of where the keys are lost—the place where the keys to our happiness and self-fulfillment lie hidden in the hard to see places. Why do we spend out time in the lighted place—where the keys are not—instead of the place where we must work harder, but where the keys certainly exist.

Hint: I just gave you the answer.

Because, it’s the place where we must work harder. Most of us don’t like difficult things. We like comfort and security. We value safety and the absence of conflict. We create cars that parallel park themselves, for goodness sake!

Now, don’t get me wrong, we are smart. Like the drunk man we know where the keys are, we choose to ignore it and go to the easy place. We pretend to search and work under the light knowing it will do no good.

QUESTIONS
1. Are you the person you know you should be?
2. The father/mother you should be?
3. The friend you should be?
4. The manager you should be?
5. Are you happy?
6. Do you like yourself?
7. Are you one of the best people you know?
8. Are your priorities in line with your quest to be one of the best people you know?

Now that you’ve answered these questions, ask yourself one more: Are you are in the dark where the keys are, or are you under the lamppost in the light? Are you doing the difficult thing that will certainly lead to being a better person, or the easy thing that requires no hard work—lets you stay in the comfort zone—and accomplishes nothing?

I offer the exact opposite advice of the diminutive, squeaky-voiced Tangina in the movie Poltergeist, “Do not go into the light! Turn away from the light! Do not go into the light!”

Get into the dark places, do the work and make yourself better. Find the keys to your happiness and then there will be no dark places.