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30.10.2011

The Evolution of a Man

posted by admin

in Inspiration
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November 3rd represents the first anniversary of my fathers’ untimely death.  Just 76 and in excellent health, cancer robbed him of many good years.  My experience dealing with this reality over the past year has been interesting.  His presence is always just below consciousness and a memory arises nearly every day.  Often I’ll catch myself beginning a sentence with “my dad” while recalling events in my life.  Sometimes, an event will cause me to reflect for a moment and I feel the tears gather in my eyes at the correlation.  Most troubling is when I have an experience that compels me to pick up the phone to share with my dad.  That nanosecond urge comes crashing down as the reality rises to consciousness.

 

I wrote in an earlier post that I do not believe a man can truly become a man until his father is gone.  I soon realized that without the ability to call my dad for advice, I could rely only on the foundation of principles and judgment imparted to me during his life.  There are men my senior whom I admire greatly and it is easy to subtly communicate with them in search of fatherly assistance but they understandably fall short of the real thing.

 

When I was a young child, my father commanded respect and instilled respect for my mother.   A child cannot understand what this means so it is the responsibility of the father to demand it.  As I got older, respect for both my mother and father had been earned.  I understood they loved me unconditionally.  Even when I was certain they intended to ruin my life by denying something that my very life depended on, deep down I knew that was not the case and their position was “for my own good”.  Witnessing my fathers’ life, I began to respect and admire him more.  As a teen, I remember being asked who in the world I admired most. While classmates reeled off sports and historical figures, I said “my father”.  That opinion has never changed throughout my life.  He spoke the words he believed and lived the words he spoke.  When I was blessed with children of my own, I would often repeat my hope to be half the father to my children that mine was to me.  I further desired to be at least half of the man he was.    I began to look at situations in my life and ask myself how I thought my dad would handle it or how I believed he would want me to govern myself.  I have truly lived a blessed life.  I felt at times that I was the luckiest man on earth.  A few years ago, a chain of significant adversities beset my life and I found that it is during the difficult times when your true character is tested and revealed.   As I emerged on the other side with a renewed energy and optimism, I became more aware and grateful for those principles and undying faith I was taught by my fathers’ words and example.

 

His life represented an unwavering faith in God and the principle that a good name was more valuable than all worldly possessions.  His word was his bond.  He loved his family more than his next breath and he loved my mother more than himself or anything else in the world. My mom went away on a 3 or 4-day trip once that I recall.  My mom and dad were seldom separated during their more than 50 year marriage.  When she returned, he stepped into the driveway with tears in his eyes overwhelmed with the joy of her return.

 

Just a couple of days ago, on October 26th, I was blessed to celebrate my 2oth wedding anniversary.  Admittedly, I don’t have the best track record of sensitivity to holiday’s, birthdays and even anniversary’s.  I’ve actually missed a few.  However, 20 years is a true milestone and it gave me pause to reflect.  My introspective contentedly revealed that I am advancing on my chosen journey becoming a man likened to my father.  I understood how much I deeply love and respect my wife just as my father did my mother.  I attempted to tell someone how lucky I was to be married to Nancy and tears pooled in my eyes.  As we have reflected on our time together, I am comforted that in spite of my spells of insensitivity, she is content in the knowledge of my love for her.  The next leg of my journey will be to instill in my daughters that they are to neither expect nor accept any less from the man who will ultimately take their hand.  And just in case the father of said man might not have instilled said principle, I intend to do so.

 

I have surely made missteps along the way and I guess that is why they call it a journey.  However, as we age and as we stockpile wisdom and comfort with who we are, the road becomes less winding and our steps, while slower, become more resolute and sure.  Perhaps the clarity of recognition of such an advance will accelerate the evolution of this man.

 

27.09.2011

Leadership- Please Make the Noise STOP!

posted by admin

in US Politics
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When I listen to politicians and others debate the issue of taxes these days I mostly hear noise.  My personal view is that raising taxes never has and never will spur economic growth and according to historical rate to revenue comparisons it will never increase government revenue.  The only way to increase tax revenue is to grow an economy that creates jobs and creates more taxpayers.  But in the midst of all the noise there are a few comments that pierce my veil of just noise and give me pause.  One is the repeated rant by President Obama claiming that all the millionaires, billionaires and corporate jet owners need to “pay their fair share”.  It sets a tone of penalizing accomplishment that will surely demoralize the risk takers and dream seekers.  Why jets?  What is next; boats, RV’s?  I bet there are more Americans aspiring to buy a nice RV than a jet.  Aren’t RV’s a luxury item?  If the goal is to raise tax revenue, I bet an RV tax would raise more revenue than jets.   But according to Obama, that would not be “fair” because even though RV ownership is viewed by some as elite it would not be a populist endeavor.  Most people do not aspire to buy a jet so those who own one become the scrawny kid easy to pick on and difficult to defend.

 

There is an implication that republicans notoriously defend the vital interest of millionaires at the expense of everyone else.  I couldn’t help but think, really? I was lucky enough to experience the American dream of building a company that required me to write a 7-figure check to the federal government.  Conversely, as a serial entrepreneur I have experienced losses of equal proportion.  The government was not there to bail me out yet I continue to be a serial entrepreneur.   Although in the face of uncertainty of taxes and regulation my enthusiasm is tempered and I am somewhat resigned to the concept that less is more.  The real bad news is that in the past I have created hundreds of jobs but I am reluctant to do it again.  I wonder how many other risk takers feel the same.  The fact is that the number of millionaires and billionaires fluctuate and the members of those clubs drift in and out and rarely remain for long periods of time.  I began thinking about the logic of the argument so humor me as we look at a few numbers.

 

  • There are about 308 million people living in the US.
  • About 135 million people file tax returns.
  • About 100 million people owe taxes on those returns.
  • There are about 3.1 million millionaires in the US.
  • There are about 400 billionaires in the US.
  • The top 50% of taxpayers make $32,879+ and pay 97.1% of all taxes in US.
  • The bottom 50% making less than $32,879 paid the remaining 2.9%.
  • The top 10% earn at least $103K and pay 71.2% of all taxes.

 

Think about that for a minute.  The top 10% of the wage bracket in the US begins at $103K in annual income.  If you own a home, have two cars and a child or two, it will take you a very long time if ever to save and invest enough money to become a real millionaire.  There are only about 1 million people in the US who make over $250K per year.  This category may be a quicker path to the elusive millionaire club but if this group lives in a slightly bigger house, drives nicer cars and stays in a more upscale hotel on vacation it will still be a very long road.

 

However, if you are in this class of wager earner, you are classified as an evil millionaire targeted by the proposed tax code and the whipped up masses led to believe it is unfair they too don’t have a million dollars.  According to the tone of the rhetoric of the left, it’s not “fair” some people $250K.   Tax em because, “it’s the right thing to do”.  I know I’m becoming overly sensitive because there is something about the way Obama pronounces the word “do” that makes me want to leap off a cliff.  What really galls me is the proclamation that the answer to our problems is higher taxation while I read that our government accidentally sent out $600 MILLION in payments to deceased federal employees.  The empty promises from both sides of the aisle that promise to weed out wasteful spending and fraud while hundreds of billions of dollars go unaccounted for every day are no longer amusing.

 

The other comment that pierced my ears was made Sunday by David Plouffe who is senior advisor to President Obama.  He said the way to get the economy going was to ask the millionaires to pay their fair share and cut taxes for the middle class.  What?  I thought the goal was to cut the deficit?  If the argument is for raising revenue in order to cut the deficit, shouldn’t they at least propose to leave the middle class tax rates where they are and increase taxes on the rich?  It seems to me the objective is to not cut the deficit and create jobs but rather to pursue the ideology of spreading out the money because “it’s the right thing to do”.  Says who?

 

Why penalize those who worked hard, sacrificed, took risks and aspired to a good education in order to reward those who prefer to live a subsidized life?  Before you imagine burning me on a stake for not having a heart, I am not opposed to government assistance.  I do prefer personal responsibility of benevolent and charitable assistance and our country has an unmatched record of compassion.  However, when cell phones, flat screen TV’s, nice cars, modern appliances, Internet, satellite TV’s, DVD and video games become bonus entitlements of an already subsidized citizenry, it subliminally chips away at compassion.  Anyone industrious enough to figure out how to obtain these items while hovering around the steadily rising poverty line is industrious enough to pay a little more to take care of himself or herself if need be or at least contribute a little more than zero in income taxes.  When 47% of the wager earners in America pay nothing to the government while enjoying the benefits it provides, fairness is unattainable.   It creates an oppressive state of mind and an entitlement mentality.  Everyone is easily addicted to free stuff.

 

Back to the numbers:  In the 2008 presidential election, Obama received 69,456,897 votes and McCain received 59,934,814 votes.   If the Republicans are truly codifying those 3.1 million rich people to preserve their jobs, we are in serious trouble as their math skills are as bad as the skills in a DC high school.  That million billion club cannot swing an election. Therefore, one must conclude that ideology and philosophy clearly is in play.  Therefore, we must face reality and choose an ideology.  Do you subscribe to the ideology that accomplishment must be penalized in order to subsidize the less responsible or do you subscribe to the empowerment of the American people with a dream of greatness and an environment that facilitates and rewards hard work and sacrifice and personal responsibility.   We truly need an inspirational leader who can fan those flames of individual greatness.   We simply cannot tolerate the divisive rhetoric that pits more than against less than.   We need a leader who is strong enough to tell us the truth that we already know.  We need a leader who freely admits that our government pisses away more money through fraud, waste, mismanagement and generally stupid programs than the total GDP of many developed nations and who is committed to expose it and wipe it out.  I know it’s a fantasy but I bet if it happens and the country is still in a tight spot nearly everyone would be willing to chip in a little more.  What would be fair is if those in power become good stewards of the money we currently work hard for and send to DC.

 

As far as that leader, I don’t know who it will be but I know who it ain’t.

 

 

When I listen to politicians and others debate the issue of taxes these days I mostly hear noise.  My personal view is that raising taxes never has and never will spur economic growth and according to historical rate to revenue comparisons it will never increase government revenue.  The only way to increase tax revenue is to grow an economy that creates jobs and creates more taxpayers.  But in the midst of all the noise there are a few comments that pierce my veil of just noise and give me pause.  One is the repeated rant by President Obama claiming that all the millionaires, billionaires and corporate jet owners need to “pay their fair share”.  It sets a tone of penalizing accomplishment that will surely demoralize the risk takers and dream seekers.  Why jets?  What is next; boats, RV’s?  I bet there are more Americans aspiring to buy a nice RV than a jet.  Aren’t RV’s a luxury item?  If the goal is to raise tax revenue, I bet an RV tax would raise more revenue than jets.   But according to Obama, that would not be “fair” because even though RV ownership is viewed by some as elite it would not be a populist endeavor.  Most people do not aspire to buy a jet so those who own one become the scrawny kid easy to pick on and difficult to defend.

 

There is an implication that republicans notoriously defend the vital interest of millionaires at the expense of everyone else.  I couldn’t help but think, really? I was lucky enough to experience the American dream of building a company that required me to write a 7-figure check to the federal government.  Conversely, as a serial entrepreneur I have experienced losses of equal proportion.  The government was not there to bail me out yet I continue to be a serial entrepreneur.   Although in the face of uncertainty of taxes and regulation my enthusiasm is tempered and I am somewhat resigned to the concept that less is more.  The real bad news is that in the past I have created hundreds of jobs but I am reluctant to do it again.  I wonder how many other risk takers feel the same.  The fact is that the number of millionaires and billionaires fluctuate and the members of those clubs drift in and out and rarely remain for long periods of time.  I began thinking about the logic of the argument so humor me as we look at a few numbers.

 

  • There are about 308 million people living in the US.
  • About 135 million people file tax returns.
  • About 100 million people owe taxes on those returns.
  • There are about 3.1 million millionaires in the US.
  • There are about 400 billionaires in the US.
  • The top 50% of taxpayers make $32,879+ and pay 97.1% of all taxes in US.
  • The bottom 50% making less than $32,879 paid the remaining 2.9%.
  • The top 10% earn at least $103K and pay 71.2% of all taxes.

 

Think about that for a minute.  The top 10% of the wage bracket in the US begins at $103K in annual income.  If you own a home, have two cars and a child or two, it will take you a very long time if ever to save and invest enough money to become a real millionaire.  There are only about 1 million people in the US who make over $250K per year.  This category may be a quicker path to the elusive millionaire club but if this group lives in a slightly bigger house, drives nicer cars and stays in a more upscale hotel on vacation it will still be a very long road.

 

However, if you are in this class of wager earner, you are classified as an evil millionaire targeted by the proposed tax code and the whipped up masses led to believe it is unfair they too don’t have a million dollars.  According to the tone of the rhetoric of the left, it’s not “fair” some people $250K.   Tax em because, “it’s the right thing to do”.  I know I’m becoming overly sensitive because there is something about the way Obama pronounces the word “do” that makes me want to leap off a cliff.  What really galls me is the proclamation that the answer to our problems is higher taxation while I read that our government accidentally sent out $600 MILLION in payments to deceased federal employees.  The empty promises from both sides of the aisle that promise to weed out wasteful spending and fraud while hundreds of billions of dollars go unaccounted for every day are no longer amusing.

 

The other comment that pierced my ears was made Sunday by David Plouffe who is senior advisor to President Obama.  He said the way to get the economy going was to ask the millionaires to pay their fair share and cut taxes for the middle class.  What?  I thought the goal was to cut the deficit?  If the argument is for raising revenue in order to cut the deficit, shouldn’t they at least propose to leave the middle class tax rates where they are and increase taxes on the rich?  It seems to me the objective is to not cut the deficit and create jobs but rather to pursue the ideology of spreading out the money because “it’s the right thing to do”.  Says who?

 

Why penalize those who worked hard, sacrificed, took risks and aspired to a good education in order to reward those who prefer to live a subsidized life?  Before you imagine burning me on a stake for not having a heart, I am not opposed to government assistance.  I do prefer personal responsibility of benevolent and charitable assistance and our country has an unmatched record of compassion.  However, when cell phones, flat screen TV’s, nice cars, modern appliances, Internet, satellite TV’s, DVD and video games become bonus entitlements of an already subsidized citizenry, it subliminally chips away at compassion.  Anyone industrious enough to figure out how to obtain these items while hovering around the steadily rising poverty line is industrious enough to pay a little more to take care of himself or herself if need be or at least contribute a little more than zero in income taxes.  When 47% of the wager earners in America pay nothing to the government while enjoying the benefits it provides, fairness is unattainable.   It creates an oppressive state of mind and an entitlement mentality.  Everyone is easily addicted to free stuff.

 

Back to the numbers:  In the 2008 presidential election, Obama received 69,456,897 votes and McCain received 59,934,814 votes.   If the Republicans are truly codifying those 3.1 million rich people to preserve their jobs, we are in serious trouble as their math skills are as bad as the skills in a DC high school.  That million billion club cannot swing an election. Therefore, one must conclude that ideology and philosophy clearly is in play.  Therefore, we must face reality and choose an ideology.  Do you subscribe to the ideology that accomplishment must be penalized in order to subsidize the less responsible or do you subscribe to the empowerment of the American people with a dream of greatness and an environment that facilitates and rewards hard work and sacrifice and personal responsibility.   We truly need an inspirational leader who can fan those flames of individual greatness.   We simply cannot tolerate the divisive rhetoric that pits more than against less than.   We need a leader who is strong enough to tell us the truth that we already know.  We need a leader who freely admits that our government pisses away more money through fraud, waste, mismanagement and generally stupid programs than the total GDP of many developed nations and who is committed to expose it and wipe it out.  I know it’s a fantasy but I bet if it happens and the country is still in a tight spot nearly everyone would be willing to chip in a little more.  What would be fair is if those in power become good stewards of the money we currently work hard for and send to DC.

 

As far as that leader, I don’t know who it will be but I know who it ain’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

16.08.2011

Monday Morning Thoughts:

posted by admin

in Random Thoughts
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I keep hearing a radio commercial for a company that will lower my income tax rate to as low as 10%.  The ad claims that they have never suggested a deduction that was denied.  If they have never had a deduction denied they are not suggesting enough.

 

I’m ready for someone to propose a political pledge for public servants, (I laughed out loud when I typed servants), to sign pledging to not sign pledges.  No matter what the pledge is, it eliminates the possibility to utilize common sense at some time in the future.

 

I really wish people driving in the left hand lane of an interstate while talking on their cell phone would shut up and concentrate on maintaining a consistent speed and preferably on another highway.

 

Raising taxes in a depressed economy is stupid.  Requiring a balanced budget amendment is equally stupid.  Confused?  I am a conservative for fiscal responsibility.  History indisputably documents that lower tax rates increase revenue for the Federal Government.  (Heritage.org) When no one is making money, it doesn’t matter what the tax rate is.  You can take it all and not solve deficits.  The progressive theory is to tax everyone who has anything into equality of assets.  If I hear anyone else say it is not fair for rich to not pay more I will scream.  When half of the people pay nothing, fairness is unattainable.    At the same time, the USA cannot be constrained to a balanced budget.  What happens when we are victimized by another terrorist attack or natural disaster such as Katrina?  If a response in not in the budget, what do you do?  What is wrong with fiscally responsible policies that create budget surpluses?  Instead of saying “you can’t spend it if you don’t have it, we could add don’t spend it just because you’ve got it.”  That’s a balanced approach.  The problem is that our government cannot tolerate a surplus of revenue.

 

Politicians like to distract us with issues like the definition of marriage.  I looked it up on my computer dictionary and, in spite of my personal convictions; nowhere did it reference man and woman.  In fact it went so far as to say in #5 it was a “union of two things”.  Do we not have more pressing problems that require attention rather than demanding a politician pinky swear that they will support marriage?  However, I also looked up “illegal”.  Between the definition and synonyms I am struggling to understand the basis of debate on illegal immigration.  It is either illegal to improperly arrive on US soil or it is not.

 

The fact that GM sold only 125 Chevy Volts in July speaks for itself.  For the record Ford sold 49,104 F-150 pick-up trucks during the same month.

 

Barak Obama has played more golf in 2011 than Tiger Woods.  In fact he may have actually played better.

 

Can’t we drop a nuclear Hoola Hoop on Afghanistan and blow a mile wide gap around the country and bring our troops home?

 

While we are dropping explosives I think we should parachute containers filled with cluster bombs and marked FOOD into Somalia.    When the thugs oppressing and starving the poor by stealing it for themselves and are blown high enough to answer to God, we can then launch a humanitarian effort fight the unnecessary starvation.

 

Does anyone really care what Matt Damon thinks?  His comments on behalf of the teachers union comparing a teaching career to his love of acting (he doesn’t act for the money) were as asinine as they were unintelligible.

 

I personally believe OJ Simpson is a murderer.  However, I thought it was despicable of Time Magazine to intentionally alter his photograph on the 1994 cover to make him appear darker.  It is equally despicable what Newsweek did to Michele Bachmann.  You may not agree with her philosophy and general lack of experience but she is not angry and she certainly is not crazy.

 

Someone told me a long time ago that people use profane language to compensate for his or her immense lack of vocabulary.   Kind of like politicians who criticize their counter parts to compensate for their immense lack of ideas.

 

Generally speaking, if you can’t think of anything nice to say about someone you know, you probably don’t know him or her that well.

 

If Congress goes to the trouble to pass a tax, why is it sloppy enough or creative enough to pass a loophole to avoid it?

 

You would think that the tougher the economy gets and the harder it is for businesses to make money that service and attitude would get noticeably better.  However, more often than not, I feel like I’m bothering more people as I attempt to buy their goods and services.

 

Personal responsibility.  Isn’t it interesting how teachers, many politicians and union members bristle at the audacity of proposals that would base their pay, promotions and job security on their actual job performance?

 

Bert and Ernie   — “let them come out as gay”   —- Really?  Where does it end?

 

Have you noticed how eerily close the stock market graphs resemble the flight of Angry Birds?  Just saying.

 

I do not want a smart skin patch placed on my forehead for any reason, ever.

 

And finally, it appears noble of Warren Buffett to strike out about being coddled.  However, Berkshire provides jobs for 222,000 people.  It generates $136B of revenue that rolls forward into the economy.  It pays payroll taxes, property taxes, sales taxes and more.  The 222K employees pay a lot of taxes and pay their income into the economy.  He still pays 17.9% on what he brings home.  I think it is disingenuous for one of the wealthiest men on the planet to now recommend penalizing the very system that allowed him to amass his wealth.  Is it possible that changing the system now to tax those lurking in his shadows actually protects his stature?  If he feels the need to pay more, it is perfectly legal for him to make a government donation.

 

Well, I feel better now.  Please feel free to post your own random thoughts and you will feel better as well.

 

02.06.2011

posted by admin

in Inspiration
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Dale Earnhardt was a rare breed of man.  There are many men who have left memorable moments in their wake. Michael Jordon, Arnold Palmer, Billy Graham, Ronald Reagan and others really are larger than life.  I’ve had the privilege to meet an array of famous people but no one left a lasting impact comparable to Dale.  I am proud to say he was a friend.   Everyone knew Earnhardt as a fierce competitor who truly earned his nickname, The Intimidator.  I’ve waited a long time to tell this little story and with the passing of the 10th anniversary of his untimely death at Daytona, I believe the time has come.

 

I’ve always considered myself a bit of a street hustler.  I possess no particular trade skills beyond the tenacity to constantly find opportunities to make a living.  In the late 1980’s I met a screen printer who printed static cling decals for ACC sports teams.  I somehow convinced him to allow me to become his distributor.  I cannot tell you how hard I worked opening up little accounts, selling a dozen $1.50 decals at a time and not making any money.  On a flight into Charlotte, NC, as a result of a lucky seat assignment, I met a sports agent who represented the legendary Tony Dorsett of the Dallas Cowboys. After seeing my little NC State decal he suggested I check out NASCAR and he gave me the name of the guy who represented Dale Earnhardt.  I hoped off the plan in Charlotte and drove straight to the offices of Sports Image beside the Charlotte Motor Speedway.  After about 6 hours in the lobby, I scored an audience with Joey Tillman.  Seemingly unimpressed with my lack of samples he asked if I could print a racecar on that material.  Without hesitation and without any supporting knowledge I said absolutely.  He reached into his desk drawer and gave me a photograph of the black #3 Goodwrench Racing Chevrolet and a card with Dale Earnhardts’ signature.  He then casually said, “I’ll take 10,000”.  Trying not to show I could barely breathe due to this staggering order, I shook his hand thanked him for the order and quietly prayed Robert the printer could print a car.  I’m pleased to say he could and Sports Image re-ordered about 10 times that year and my racing career was off and running.  I’ve often said I got into NASCAR when all of my friends called me a redneck and stayed until they all wanted tickets.

 

Over the next few years, I became the “go-to” guy to make just about anything you could print on.  The sport was growing out of control.  I developed proficiency for opening up new markets for racing products.   I made regular trips to Charlotte from my home in Wrightsville Beach.  Being a “NASCAR guy”, I bought a black Lincoln Continental Marc VIII and man that car was fast.   I have been a proficient speeder since my teenage years.  I am not proud of the fact I have a significant collection of speeding tickets representing most states on the Eastern seaboard.   Thankfully, I have calmed down in my senior years.

 

One afternoon as I sped down highway 49 in Concord, NC on my way to secure yet another order from Sports Image, I noticed my rear view mirror was filled with the grill of a very large Chevrolet pick-up truck about a foot from my bumper.  In spite the simultaneous rise of fear and testosterone, I was confident there was not a redneck truck on the planet that could keep up with my Lincoln.  So I did what any other closet redneck would do, I punched it.  At about 110 mph I began to display a grin knowing this hillbilly had been left in the dust.  However, my confidence quickly ceded to disbelief then to fear when I saw the grill was still attached to my bumper.  As I contemplated my next move, this maniac tapped my rear bumper and roared past me like I was in a parking lot.  Fearing for my life at this point, I slowed down and watched this unnaturally powered pickup truck pass over the horizon.  As I eased into the parking lot of Sports Image I was unnerved to see a black truck.  I got out of my car and noticed this guy get out of the truck and instantly recognized the black Goodwrench hat and gold Gargoyle sunglasses affixed just over the signature grin.  He bounded over towards me and said “Son, you ought not drive that fast”.  He said, “I’m Dale, what’s your name and what are you doing here”?  I told him and he slapped me on the back, grabbed my neck, grinned and disappeared into a side door.

 

A couple of years later, Dale bought Sports Image from Joey Tillman and Hank Jones.  I got a call asking me to come over to his office.  He toured me through his warehouse and knowing I moved a lot of product, he asked if I could help him reduce his inventory so he could start fresh.  I agreed and we subsequently assisted in the liquidation of a lot of merchandise.   A few months later we concluded our quite successful effort.   In February, Dale approached me at Daytona and asked how much he owed me.  I replied, “Dale, you don’t owe me a thing.  I appreciate the opportunities you have given me”.  He said, “Well I’ve got to do something” and I replied, “well why don’t you just get me a turkey for Thanksgiving”.   He said that would be just fine and we both laughed.

 

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving that same year, several of my employees and me were struggling to get out of the office when a white van backed up to my front door.  Two young men got out and brought in a large box and announced they were making a delivery for Mr. Earnhardt.  It never occurred to me what it was until with great enthusiasm I cut the box open.  As I lifted the top, a very large and very alive turkey spread its wings spanning about 5 feet.  I caught one of the wings in the forehead about the time each man with a Polaroid camera in hand simultaneously took a photograph, one for me and one for Dale.  By the time the flash dimmed, I noticed the turkey had a small red license plate hanging around its neck that said  “Intimidator”.   The men then informed me that Mr. Earnhardt and me were even and I could keep the bird or he was welcome to reside on the Earnhardt farm at Coddle Creek.  Noticing the very large dropping on the carpet that frankly I was unsure if it was from the bird or me, I elected to make it a free-range turkey.

 

To the world, Dale Earnhardt was a determined competitor, a hero and 7-Time NASCAR Champion.  To me, he was that and so much more.  He was fiercely loyal, mischievous and most importantly a man of his word.  We all miss you Dale and just as you made the world a better place, I know the racing in heaven is a lot better since you arrived.

 

02.04.2011

WINNING — YES CHARLIE SHEEN IS WINNING BUT NOT THE WAY YOU THINK.

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Inspired by the latest catchphrase coined via the viral ramblings of Charlie Sheen, I began to ponder the context of winning.  I meandered down memory lane to my early childhood.   I arrived at my earliest winning moment in my backyard, clad in the green and white New York Jets football uniform, complete with authentic helmet and all bearing the famous number 12.  Yes sir, Joe Willie Namath.  I was about 10 years old and I cannot tell you how many times I self snapped the football, dropped back and threw the game winning touchdown pass to my imaginary receiver and often to my next door neighbor Kenny.  I cannot recall a single time when the catch came up short of the goal line as time expired only to lose the game.  I cannot remember a single time when I completed the pass to tie the game and as time expired watched some lame kicker miss the extra point for a tie.  I WON every single game.   In my basketball memory, time had expired; I was down by one and on the line with a one and one free throw attempt to win the championship.  Granted there were days I resorted to multiple do-over’s but I never quit until I made both shots to secure the victory as the crowd cheered in my head and sometimes I even made the whispering noise resembling a filled arena.

 

I played organized football, baseball and basketball all through my early years and into high school.   Barely 5’8” in white canvas Chuck Taylors I clearly remember my high school basketball coach telling me I was “about the worst basketball player” ever to try out for the Wilson Fike Titans.  I recall being about a foot below the next shortest guy trying out.  I have spent the last 36 years and suffered countless operations trying to prove him wrong.  I hit the winning shot to secure my first hoop it up regional trophy years later and drove back to Wilson to show my coach but he had passed away.  I will never outlive the agony of him passing still thinking I was the worst.

 

Anyway, back to my story.  Not once in my organized athletic career did I participate in a game where we did not keep score.  Winning was the objective and losing meant “failure to win”.  Winning produced feelings of elation followed by involuntary jumping, clapping and yelling.  Losing brought pain, sorrow and often tears.  How would it be possible to experience the joy of winning if we did not suffer the agony of defeat?  In reality, losing isn’t all bad and it can be motivating.  You can ponder the errors of your effort or strategy and focus on improving in those areas.  You can vow to work harder, get in better shape and concentrate more.  How many games are lost due to a lack of focus and concentration?  Sometimes you have to face the reality that the other guys are just bigger, stronger and faster.  You learn you don’t always have to be the best and a little humility is good for the soul.  You can develop pride in knowing you did your best and you competed.  It’s still not as good as winning but in life, you need that balance.

 

I confess I enjoy 2 ½ men and still watch re-runs.  There is no redeeming value to the show but it does provide 30 minutes of mindless entertainment and distraction from the rat race.  I don’t really care what Charlie Sheen does in his personal life.  It is none of my business and not my place to judge him any more than I want him judging me.  However, I did harvest a message from his tabloid saga.  Let’s say he was or is an irresponsible drug addict.  He lost his families and his job.  Not just any job but one that paid him about $2M per week.  That is a lot of money but I think it is all relative.  Charlie rolls large and his spending is as epic as his parties.  A lot of people more wealthy than Charlie are broke and it could easily have been his fate.  I think he realized that and even made reference to the large number of people who were dependent upon his income.  He had gotten away with so much bad boy behavior that I believe he believed this latest tantrum would roll right off his back as well.  However, as we all know it did not work out that way.  He got canned and I’m convinced he was shocked and devastated.  Certainly, his most bizarre behavior followed the official announcement of his termination.

 

I am inspired by his response.  He could have easily bumped a few 7 gram rocks, called the girls, destroyed a hotel room in Vegas and wound up broke in Randy Quaid land.  In spite of a few rough spots, he picked himself up, apparently cleaned out the drugs and went on the offense.  He claimed to be at war but it is really just a game and Charlie was keeping score.  He created an overnight brand.  He launched his offense on TV, Internet and radio.  He sold 50,000 t-shirts, created a road show and set a world record on Twitter now boasting over 3M followers.  His newfound entrepreneurial prowess may not stick but he certainly re-stocked the coffers with admiral focus and discipline.

 

He was knocked down and looked like just another spoiled celebrity loser.  People gave him the 10-count and called him out.  I have to believe that earlier in life, Charlie played games where they kept score and developed the desire to not “fail to win”.  Subconsciously those childhood memories kicked into adrenaline-fueled overdrive.  I’m in no way advocating Mr. Sheen as a role model and frankly he may prove unable to sustain his response.  However, I worry about youth today who are taught everyone is a winner, scores don’t matter and all who participate get a gold trophy.  That is not how the real world functions.  It is full of winners and losers and no matter how hard some try to level the playing field to assure equality of outcome and opportunity for all to become equal participants, it will only produce more losers.  Teach your children and remind yourself that when life knocks you down and scrapes your knees, dust yourself off, refocus and vow to work harder.  Teach them how to win and lose graciously.  Admire victory and respect effort.  Embrace the discontent of defeat, recommit and you too will be WINNING!

 

14.03.2011

Healthcare Reprint from Sept. 2009

posted by admin

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The Wall Street Journal reported last week that puzzled advisors to President Obama employed linguists to determine words or a combination of words that would resonate with the American people and gain support for Health Care Reform.  They were puzzled by the fact that their successful election strategy of word play had suddenly failed.  That is insulting to the common sense of the citizenry.   I have not heard a single person upset by what the plan is called.  The anger is rooted in the unsustainable cost, lack of explainable details and moreover by the fact that those who pushed so hard for the vote would not commit to read the bill.  The President himself is shaky on the details.  Here’s a suggestion.  How about honest, informed, detailed answers minus half-truths and ambiguous explanations.  Tell us the whole truth about exactly what it will cost, (we are smart enough to double it), and precisely how you intend pay for it;  if you have a clue.  Assuming you will not simply print money to pay for it, tell us what sacrifices will be made and what the actual benefits and cost savings will be.  It seems to me you are double counting Medicare savings by simply shifting money from the right pocket to the left.  It is reasonable for us to question how you will expand services, add 48 million new non-paying customers, provide better care and save money.  As a business book, it will be a best seller.

 

To be fair, there are wild accusations flying in from the right flank but you opened that door by the conspicuous and loosely written provisions that oil the slippery slope to unmanageable socialized medicine. It does not help that you guys brought in staff experts and policy advisors who have openly stated old people are a drag on the system and we should learn to just “let them go”.  Moreover, if you do not intend to provide free government health care for 9M illegal occupants then why not simply put that in a black and white.  ”Government option health care will only be available to citizens of the United States or those Legal Citizens in Waiting”.  If you do not intend on driving private insurance out of business; write –  ”No one shall be required to participate in the government option.  If you like your plan you can keep it –  period”.  No ifs, ands or buts.  Clear rules would not take over 1000 pages.  If you really want to help save money, how about allowing us to simplify the system.  For example, lets make it easier to understand how much a STREP test cost up front and in actual US currency.  We don’t care how much the cotton swab and chair rental costs — just the total cost of the test.  Do we care what the bun costs on a Big Mac?  We can decide if we want to pay more for the doctor who does the test with a little ambiance and complimentary coffee.  In our insurance plan, help us require clarity from our providers on how much a policy will pay for a STREP test no matter where it occurs.  Let us shop across state lines to find the policy that pays an amount we are comfortable with.  Co-Pay is another scam.  We have been conditioned to focus on a $10 co-pay or a $20 co-pay and are happy to escape for the 20-spot.  It doesn’t seem to matter whether the test was $50 or $5000 because we successfully passed the Check Out desk for $20.  I don’t remember the last time I went shopping in a store without prices and took home a car load of merchandise.  Who would be comfortable  paying a $10 shopping fee on the way out and then wait for the actual bill for purchases to come 60 days later?  Once that is addressed, how about reform that eases a hospital and physicians worry that if a nurse accidentally scratches a chin while administering the STREP test they won’t be sued for $250M.  If you really care about details of the true reason for exorbitant medical costs, talk to someone in a medical billing reimbursement office and let them explain why it is so complicated.  Let them show you the paperwork and the OUIJI board necessary to file claims for insurance, Medicare and Medicaid.  After submitting mountains of paperwork they cross their fingers on the crap shoot of what they will actually receive.  Once the checks finally arrive they have to set aside reserve funds for the year-end audit that often results in sending money back to the government.  Who could run a business under those circumstances.

I agree we need reform.  However, you guys running the government now have plenty of things on your plate without rushing to create another trillion dollar disaster to fulfill a political ideology.  I for one am not yet buying the “mission accomplished” claims of the economy.  I think there is more pain on our horizon.  The bill for that alleged success has not arrived.  I may not be a math whiz but your balance sheet terrifies me.  The majority of Americans have been a little shell shocked by tough times, war and bad news in general.  We have been dizzied by the flurry of massive new undertakings by the current administration and the incomprehensible accumulation of debt and then you throw the Swine Flu on top of that.  A trillion anything used to sound like a big number but in our stupor, trillion has become the new billion.

You can call it the Community Blessed Assurance Feel Good Act but if it is ill defined and costs a $1T it’s a no sale.  Beware; voters are apparently smarter than politicians give us credit.  My two cent opinion is that people are beginning to care less about political party and more about common sense.  We are paying attention now and collectively sending the message: “Its the money stupid, not the title, listen or find another career”.

 

 

24.12.2010

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE SANTA OR JESUS?

posted by Randy Baker

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TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE SANTA OR JESUS?

T’was the night before Christmas, when the conflict set in, my thoughts of this season raging within.

The stockings were hung and the tree was all lit, the kids were in bed but my brain would not quit.  My wife was all nestled all snug in our bed but I just could not get this thought from my head.  The world is tucked in for a long winter sleep; with dreams about Santa and the gifts they will reap.

The quiet night cradles my thoughts all alone and here I’m reminded of my Lord on the throne.  What must he be thinking of this Christmastime rush, the hustling and bustling the pre-Christmas hush?

The star of the East on top of the tree, no shepherds no manger oh how can this be?  Are those gifts from three Wise Men? No wait they’re from me.

The moon shines its light on the earth far below from Heaven above its’ streets all aglow.  The birthday of Jesus brings everyone out, while wondering what the fuss down below is about?

I can’t help but wonder is all of this right?  Our Christ was just born but it’s Santa’s big night?  Not Mary or Joseph nor room for a bed but eight tiny reindeer pulling a sled?  No angels singing Oh Holy Night but hoofs on a rooftop give many a fright?

No gifts for the King but toys for the tots, should we tell all the children this madness should stop?  
A bright red suit stained by ashes and soot or a swaddling clothe exposing the Childs’ foot? 

Is it rosy red cheeks all aglow from The Pole or blisters exposed by Josephs worn soles.

I should not feel bad or am I just sad, all I want is to be a good dad.  My children must know what this day stands for; it’s the birthday of Jesus not presents galore.

Alas I remember my childhood joy, the magic of Santa the abundance of toys.  My parents took time to read Matthews’ account, of a journey to Bethlehem with no parts left out.   I remember the manger, the angels and a bright star lit night, so I guess my dilemma means they taught me just right.  

So sleep well my children let the sugarplums dance; Santa will come and I’ll take my chance that the magic of Christmas you’ll have in the morn will not cloud your faith that on this night Jesus was born.

25.11.2010

I am Thankful for …

posted by Randy Baker

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I am Thankful for…………

Jesus who died on the cross to save me from sin

My wife who loves me in spite of it all and gave me a second chance to be a better husband

My children who love me; Cameron who runs and jumps in my arms every time I come home and Charli who wrote in an English paper that she respects me as a person.

My Father who gave me integrity, truth and love and who in death released me into manhood.

God who allowed my Dad to perish from bone cancer without pain

My mother for more than I can record but especially for displaying unnatural faith and strength in adversity

A sister who loves me in spite of my inadequacies as a brother

Aunt Joan for what you did for my mom

A life of untold blessings and experiences

My dogs Edwin and Sammie who never get their feeling hurt and always seem excited to see me

Bill the cat that comes up to me late at night when no one is looking and secretly lets me know he likes me for more than the food

A couple of estranged friends who are slowly re-entering my life

Every soldier wearing an American uniform and their families

Apple computers instead of PC’s

My outdoor fireplace

Coach Harvey Reid who told me in high school I was the worst basketball player whom he had ever coached and inspired me to 35 years of unceasing exercise on the court in pursuit of a respectable game and one 4-foot trophy.

The men who invented air conditioning, coffee and single malt scotch.

Peace that passeth understanding and a grace that is greater than all my needs.

All of my friends and anyone else who took the time to read this then paused to say a prayer of gratitude for their own personal blessings.  And especially those who post their list here.

15.11.2010

THE FINAL MOMENTS

posted by Randy Baker

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As cancer escalated its assault on my Dad the internal battle spilled onto the exterior.  In spite of heroic efforts by my Mom to nurture him, the physical changes were quite apparent.  There was evidence of the mild stroke and though he was able to speak, mostly in a whisper, I noticed his desire to communicate had waned.  The fascinating thing to me is that he mastered non-verbal communication with my mother.  They could just look at one another and their 55-year connection was so intense that I believe I understood what was being said.

In spite of the 18 to 20 hours of sleeping and perpetual grogginess during the final days, there were sporadic moments of extreme clarity and alertness.  I found myself alone with him during one of those periods.  We talked for a half hour about golf, the weather and memories of his childhood.  I was able to put my computer on his lap and scroll through hundreds of family pictures many of which featured his 4 grand daughters.  At one point, as he gazed at a recent photo of the girls in one of their clowning poses, he raised his hands and eyes and said “Thank you Lord!” several times and then he said “that is us, that is us”.  You see family was everything to my Dad and he saw his life’s work illuminated in 4 beautiful young girls.  A few moments later he drifted off to sleep.

As he slept I played soft music in the background and dimmed the lights and watched him labor for each breath.   After a few hours he opened his eyes and I assured him I was still there and he was not alone.  He was never alone for a minute during the last 2 weeks of his life.  He asked me where he was and I replied you are in Wilson Memorial Hospital on the 5th floor at WilMed Hospice.  He nodded his head and said “OK”.  His next words stunned me when he said, “so ya’ll are here waiting for me to die?”  I said, “Dad, we are all going to die one day, but yes you are very sick”.   He said, “I know, I have cancer and it is not going away”.  He stared at the ceiling for a moment and said, “now I see how death presents itself to us”.    Suddenly, in a much stronger voice, he said “HELLO? HELLO?” and I said, “Dad, its me”, and he replied, “I know its you but I thought I heard someone else speaking to me”.  Naturally, I attributed the incident to the diminishing of his mental faculties as he repeated the Hello exercise several times more over the next few hours.  Now I know differently.

What I learned during these final moments is that there surely is life after death confirming my deeply engrained Christian belief that there must be more to life than our time on Earth.  Up until now it has been based on faith alone.  However, I can now say I have witnessed evidence it exists.  I believe during the last 2 weeks of my Dad’s life, he began the transition from his earthly presence to his heavenly appearance.  Food, water and verbal communication became mostly bothersome and he participated only to appease us.  An unnatural peace and tranquility engulfed the room.  While he was awake, he constantly gazed at the ceiling.  I am convinced the voices that he heard were the beginning of communication with the other side.  Ultimately, he began to sleep with his eyes open.  In spite of the oxygen tube, his chin lifted higher and his mouth remained open seemingly craving more air.  However, it seemed to me the purpose of the open mouth was to exhale rather than inhale.  Was he exhaling life or his spirit?  His temperature spiked to 103 and the hospice nurse said it was the beginning of the dying process.  He said it was like a meteor streaking across the sky as it cools ultimately burning out.   His pulse rate soared then subsided and his breathing became shallower.

My Mom, my sister and I cried and told him how much we loved him as he began to experience longer pauses of no breathing only to restart in a deep gasp. His eyes became fixed, no longer darting repeatedly towards my Mom when he heard her voice.  His hands began to cool and we knew the moment was not far away.  For the next hour his gurgling breaths were nearly unbearable.  Although, the doctors and nurses told us moisture on the vocal chord was responsible for the excruciating noise but was not uncomfortable for him.  Suddenly, my mom stood up and leaned into his ear.  She said, “Carroll, it is time”.   All your work is done and “every key is turned”.  I am going to be fine.  Randy and Michelle are right here and they are going to take good care of me.   You have been a good husband, a good son and a good father and now you are going to see Jesus.  You are ready.  She then said, “it is well with your soul, it is well with your soul, it is well with your soul”.  In an instant after the third time, he took one last deep breath, slowly exhaled and my father was gone.  My mom begin to pray thanking God that their prayers had been answered by letting him go in peace and without pain.

The Bible says it is appointed to every man once to die.  I realize every death is different.  Some are tragic and quick.  Some are violent while many are peaceful.  However, I look at my Dad’s as being almost textbook.  Although it was inspired by cancer, I am not at all certain that the cancer killed him.  I think it was the reality of a man at peace with God who accepted his fate and realized it was a matter of time.  He saw no need for extraordinary measures to prolong the inevitable but preferred to succumb to the dying process.

A friend told me that it is difficult for a man to really become a man while his father is alive and I understand that now.  I would not trade anything for the final moments I shared with my Dad and I am eternally grateful for that opportunity.  As painful as this process was, it gave me a new clarity on life, death and my faith.  Even in death, the father was teaching his son.  Sharing these final moments in prose is not to make you cry but to make you think.  Because of his strong faith, my father did not fear death and in fact used it for ministry.  There is no doubt my mind that at the moment of death he left the room while his body remained but he did not leave alone.  I saw my Dad complete a lifelong journey towards more than a proverbial Heaven but one that is real and welcomes good and faithful servants.

I love you Dad and thank you for showing me how to live even through your death.  I look forward to seeing you again.

27.10.2010

Why Baptists are better than Muslims

posted by Randy Baker

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As in a major production it is necessary to build the stage before the show.  So before I begin, let me cut to the chase and set the stage.  My dad is dying of cancer and as I write this I think he will be gone in a week or so.  I haven’t slept in 48 hours and there are many aspects of my life where 2 + 2 currently does not equal 4.  I am certain many of you have been there as well.  It may just be me but I did not contemplate living long enough to pinch food in small bites to feed my dad, rub his head, hold his hand and ask if he was OK.  My dad, along with my dear mother, is the guy who constructed my life.  He put the blanket in my crib, the roof over my head, food on our table, the bike under my butt, the car in the driveway, the rod on my tail when I got out of line and most importantly the kiss on my forehead as he told me he loved me over and over again and molded me into a man. I remember immediately following several of my more memorable spankings he hugged me and told me he loved me.  I always thought that was an incredibly bizarre way of expressing it.  What the heck would he do if he didn’t particularly like me?  But I understand now.  All that came rushing back as I kissed his forehead and adjusted his oxygen mask and pillows repeatedly for hours at a time as he slept in his Hospice bed.  And before we move on, if your parents are alive, stop reading this for a moment, call them and tell them how much you love them and how grateful you are for all they have done.  Then tomorrow, make a donation to the Hospice in their hometown.   If you do not know what they do, you need to find out now because you cannot imagine how much you will appreciate them later.

Oh yeah, this is supposed to be about Muslims and Baptists.  My dad wanted a glass of sweet tea early this morning.  Having spent a little time in a hospital myself, I distinctly remember the iced tea there does not qualify as Southern Style sweet tea.  I quickly deducted that the only place in the world to get sweet iced tea in the morning is Bojangle’s, and let me tell you that is a happening place in Wilson, NC.   On the way out the door with my dad’s tea and a smoked sausage and cheese biscuit complete with about 40,000 calories for me, I met no less than 10 people who expressed their deep concern and admiration for my Dad.  That is 5 more, all in one spot, than the clichéd standard of “when you get old you are lucky if you can name 5 close friends”.  One of the people who stopped me was a longtime friend of the family Edna Cook.   I will get back to her.

Fast forward to later in the day when I left the hospital for a brief retreat to my parents’ home and attempted to take a nap.  After a couple hours of spinning in the sheets wide awake, I decided to go back to the hospital.  Shortly after my arrival I ran into Marty and Brenda who are incredibly dear neighbors of my Mom and Dad.  Brenda said, “you missed Edna Cook by 2 minutes today”.  I replied “no I didn’t, I saw her at Bojangles this morning right after I spoke to you all as you passed through the drive-up window while I was picking up sweet tea for my dad”.  (I’m not kidding when I tell you everyone goes to that Bojangles).  Brenda said, “NO”, she was dropping off a carrot cake for you”.  I replied, “why in the world would Edna Cook drop off a carrot cake at my moms house?”

The answer seemed elementary yet stunning.  They said, Edna knows that carrot cake is your favorite and your mom bakes you a homemade carrot cake, complete with freshly grated carrots, every year for your birthday.  Although I am 51 years old, this tradition has only been running for about 45 years.  I don’t know what my mom was doing for the first 5.   My moms name is Edna as well.  However, Edna Cook realized that my Edna had been pre-occupied caring for my dying father and missed baking the carrot cake for my 51st birthday in September.  So naturally, being the Baptist that she is, took it upon herself to go home and bake me a carrot cake while I was in town.  Both Edna’s and my dad are members of the First Free Will Baptist Church of Wilson where I grew up.

When I returned to my parents’ house around midnight in an attempt to end my sleep moratorium, there it was.  Sitting right by the doorstep in the traditional Baptist, Rubbermaid plastic cake plate with the snap on handle and the sticker identifying the name, phone number and address of the baker.  For all non-Baptist this practice is due to the large number of similar property found at homecomings, revivals, funerals and in homes of the sick.  Needless to say, upon entering the house, I sat down with a big glass of milk, fork and small plate and ate about 1/3 of it rounding out about 300,000 calories for the day.  When the cake is yours alone, it is perfectly acceptable to cut it with your fork rather than a knife.

That is when it occurred to me that Baptists are better than Muslims.  Now before anyone goes all Juan Williams on me, it is only in consideration of word count that I do not go into the obvious difference between extremists and the large number of peace loving Muslims around the world.  I am talking only about the ones who go to extraordinary lengths to secretly secure the “ingredients” required to construct a homemade bomb that they strap to their body, fire up the old Kia and drive to the local market where they blow themselves up along with 30 to 50 innocent people simply because they view them as infidels.

I realized the Edna had gone to similar lengths to pull out the recipe folder, (Baptist don’t use fancy books, they use handwritten recipes passed from one member of the ladies auxiliary to the other and store them in a folder), made a trip to the grocery store, strolled the isles for ingredients, painstakingly grated carrots and mixed icing while the cake baked.  Then she carefully extracted the cake from the baking tin, kindly slid it onto the Rubbermaid cake plate checked for the appropriate placement of the nametag and snapped it shut.   The cake was then gently loaded into the “Cookmobile” where it was delivered to my mom’s doorstep and placed exactly where she knew I would find it.  My reaction the next day was to call Ms. Cook and tell her how much I enjoyed the cake and loved her for caring enough about the preservation of my Mom’s tradition and me to bake it.  It made me happy and restored a little of my lost faith in the world.

For most of my adult life, I have been a Methodist.  We really don’t bake too many cakes and I have no record of a Methodist blowing anyone up so I believe I am fairly objective when I conclude my analysis and say to the extreme Muslim community;  “Please stop making those damned bombs and blowing folks up.” It is not helping sell your message whatever it is.  I am asking you to take a cue from the Baptists and begin baking cakes and delivering them around the world.  I swear to you it will work.  It will be more rewarding and you can train to bake them in a comfortable environment rather than the rugged hills of Pakistan, Afghanistan or in the desert.  The ingredients are much easier to come by and they smell so much better when they are done.  There is little risk of the occasional explosive incident during the preparation although I suspect there is some risk you could burn your fingers or cut yourself on the carrot grater.  The really cool thing is you get to live along with the people who have tried to convince you to strap on the bomb and blow yourself up.  I am highly suspicious about that whole 7 virgin story anyway and you can’t be very attractive when you show up in 800,000 tiny pieces.

There are so many great recipes available to cater to the tastes of nearly all religions of the world and even atheists.  I am a simple man but understand the issues are so complex but why not give it a shot.  If you get particularly good at the Carrot variety I will gladly be your infidel and try to help the world to better understand you.  Who knows, with all the grateful recipients, smiling faces and the unanticipated satisfaction I am confident you will find, we all just may be able to get along after all.

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