tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18241346509013298502024-03-13T11:53:25.093-04:00Red Boots and a Smile.What you will read here will be original articles, thoughts, stories and jokes by comedian Vic Clevenger. All of which will be written at the keyboard or on a plane either early in the morning or late at night. Whenever or what ever is published here, it will be my goal to make it interesting, insightful or just downright funny - hopefully on occasion it will be all three. Enjoy and share with your friends. Thank you.Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-11528545481059493872015-03-19T09:23:00.002-04:002015-03-19T09:31:59.374-04:00IN YOUR CORNER<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">“I’m in your corner.” Have you ever heard that before? Of
course you have, we all have. At one time or another we've all had this said to
us as an encouragement, as a vote of confidence or we've said it to someone.
But have you ever wondered what it really means to be in someone’s corner? Too
many times we blurt out a phrase without really thinking about it and maybe you
have done so with this boxing reference. It isn't unusual for people to go to
the boxing world to illustrate a point they want to make. Even the Apostle Paul
did so (1 Corinthians 9:26). So what about being in someone’s corner, what does
it mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">First it means <b>Believing</b>
in that person before the fight even begins. When I was in high school I did a
little boxing at the Westwood Boys Club. What I learned in that time was if the
trainers believed in the boxer then the training would be focused and often
times hard. They would spend time with the boxer long before he ever stepped
foot in the ring. They helped the boxer stay focused during the exercises when
he just did not want to go on and helped him be prepared for the battle in
front of him. There is a lot of pre-fight work to be done and only those who
believe in the boxer will be willing to invest the effort it takes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Secondly, is <b>Encouragement</b>
during the fight itself. Remember watching the movie <i>Rocky</i>? When Rocky was in the ring during the fight of his life
against Apollo Creed his trainer, Micky, was shouting instructions and
encouragement from the corner, especially when Rocky was on the ropes. Being in
someone’s corner means being encouraging to them especially when they feel like
the fight is too much. Although the fighter is in the ring alone, he mustn't
feel as if he is. That’s when the corner team comes in with encouragement,
especially when he is on the ropes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Thirdly is <b>Tending</b>
to the fighter between rounds. Each round is three minutes of hard blows and
body punches. It doesn’t sound like a long time but it truly is. I equate it to
standing in front of a crowd to give a speech for the first time. Even if it is
only a minute speech, that minute can seem like an eternity. The same is true
in boxing then add in someone who keeps hitting you in the head. However, after
each round is 2 minutes of rest where the trainers give you a drink, instructions
and tend to any cuts you might have from the battle, plus you get to sit. When
we are tired from our battles and life’s struggles, we also need the rest and
someone there to tend to us. Mend our bruised spirit, lift us up when we want
to quit and take care of our wounds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Finally, win or lose those in the corner are there to <b>Support</b> the boxer. It’s easy to be
there for the victory. It’s a celebration, with cheering, laughter and pats on
the back. We all need someone to celebrate our victories with. It’s sad to be
victorious, yet celebrate alone, which does happen on occasion. What’s worse is
the defeats. You are battered, bruised and just plain beaten down when you look
around to see who is there. For many, there is no one to offer support or
comfort. No one to say, “You’ll get’em next time.” You look back at your corner
and those who said they would be there have left. However, those who are truly
in your corner will always be there, maybe annoyingly so – ha ha. But they are
there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Next time you tell someone, “Hey, just so you know, I’m in
your corner.” Take a moment to reflect on what it means to truly be in their
corner. Then be there, they…I need it.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-86835691215168340402015-03-09T09:08:00.001-04:002015-03-09T09:09:23.017-04:00THE GYPSY LIFE<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ynh8n6HSh24/VP2bBtwlWuI/AAAAAAAAHsM/1eTl_jzGjGM/s1600/WIN_20150306_110050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ynh8n6HSh24/VP2bBtwlWuI/AAAAAAAAHsM/1eTl_jzGjGM/s1600/WIN_20150306_110050.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On my jet with about 100 other folk</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Willie Nelson sang, “On the Road Again” about his love for
travel and living the gypsy lifestyle. He has even said in an interview he is
so much at home on his tour bus that when he is actually at home he will still
sleep on his bus. I've heard a lot of artists convey the same idea as they
travel. Most are given a hotel room, usually a suite, in a nice hotel only to
use it for meet and greets or for meetings then actually sleep on their bus
because it’s there “home.” Life on the road isn't easy but when you have those
kind of accommodations to enhance your love for this gypsy life, then it does
make a difference.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I don’t have a tour bus, I have a Boeing 737 which I share
with over 100 other people each weekend. I would like a tour bus which would
save of packing each weekend. I wouldn't forget some of my stuff, like I did
this week because the bus would be my mobile home with all I need. Before you
and I get all caught up in the “glamour” of life on the road allow me to take a
second or two to say, sometimes it isn't all it’s cracked up to be. I stayed in
a hotel where you had to slip a wire over the door knob for your “security”
lock. I've had to leave the comfort of my bed, on more than one occasion, at
3am to drive 2 or 3 hours to catch a flight home. Once even in a snow storm.
There is a lot of alone time, where it’s just you and the television. If there
isn't anything on or the hotel has a cheap cable package you better have packed
a book to read, your laptop for work to do (which there is always plenty) or at
the very least a deck of cards to play solitaire.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Bundled together that way, life on the road doesn't sound
much fun. But rarely is there a perfect storm of a weekend. The “catastrophes”
I've faced for the most part is like this weekend where I forgot my Ipod (which
I take on every trip) and my wireless mouse other than that, so far so good. With
some of those bad experiences I mentioned, it wouldn't be fair if I didn't
mention some of the good stuff. One of which is simply, I get to travel. I've
gotten to see and experience things I never thought I would or at the very
least just dreamed about. I have gotten to see this great country in which we
live and meet a lot of interesting people. The mom and pop places I've gotten
to eat in are too numerous to mention plus I get to see my family often.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Through my travels I have made new friends and have the opportunities
to hang out with friends I've had for years. Plus I get to do what I love to
do, be on stage. Standing on that stage performing for people I've only just
met is a top notch experience for me where I get to be me and who I am. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">This Gypsy lifestyle Willie sings about, well, it the life
for me.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-27967073625519460562015-02-24T10:18:00.003-05:002015-02-24T10:18:36.164-05:00RACE WEEKEND at the DAYTONA 500<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="320" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-c-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xpf1/v/t1.0-9/10999494_10205685804921564_2569064083241933540_n.jpg?oh=6a9e6f11d748812cd08368151076c276&oe=557C0C2E&__gda__=1435955793_45484c0171b53fc993a510681a9ccfb0" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="180" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me waking up in the back of my truck on Race day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">WOW! The things we do for the things we love and in my case
it is NASCAR. I have been a race fan for as long as I can remember. I remember
watching the 1979 Daytona 500 on TV which was the first time a NASCAR race was
shown live from start to finish. I remember going to local tracks to watch the
local race heroes battle it out on asphalt and often times on dirt with the occasional
battle outside the cars. Everyone that is a fan has their favorite driver and
will passionately defend why they should be the winner in Sunday’s race only to
be disappointed when they don’t. Their driver is rarely the reason why a crash
happened even when that driver admits to being the reason. I just sit back and
laugh because I am the same way, Dale Jr has never caused a crash. Ha-ha.</span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">This past weekend was the Daytona 500 and I was without a
ticket. How could this be? A fan of my magnitude missing out on the Great
American Race. But that is where I found myself, ticket-less and depressed. I
moped around the house all day Saturday. If I had some sackcloth and ashes I probably
would have been wearing them to display my state of despair. I couldn't do
anything to get myself out of this rut even though I had a show that night. It
was imperative I walk out of the room of gloom and get ready for the show.
Which I did. I simply decided, as much as I wanted to be at the race I still
had a lot of stuff to be happy about. This makes all the difference in the
world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I cleaned up got ready, still not quite myself but getting
there. About 7 miles into my trip to the show I got the call, rather, the
Facebook message, a ticket has become available. I of course was overjoyed, I
will not miss this race after all. Now what? Well I will make phone calls, turn
the truck around grab some provisions and head to my show. The show that night
was a great success and I even saw a shooting star that night as I made the
drive to Daytona. Then came the task of finding a place to sleep. Yep, I slept
in the back of my truck in a huge field used for parking. I didn't want to miss
a moment of the race experience and of course get ahead of all the traffic
coming into Daytona from all directions on Sunday morning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The cool thing about race weekend is the experience of race
weekend. It is unique to NASCAR. Everything from the family aspect to the party
to a weekend get-a-way. People in motor-homes and tents and even in the back of their
trucks just so they can be here on this weekend to experience this race. Some
may not find it appealing, some may even not have a good time but they are in
the minority. By and large race weekend is the most fun a fan can have at a
sporting event. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Thanks NASCAR and Daytona International Speedway for a great
Sunday of fun.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-61558908174725977192015-02-11T09:16:00.001-05:002015-02-11T09:16:33.161-05:00AMERICA'S HEROES<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eJ_-HN0U4ws/VNtkLWQSPYI/AAAAAAAAHOg/qzWtLEc2pXo/s1600/10417700_10203572140601277_2845618973267644479_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eJ_-HN0U4ws/VNtkLWQSPYI/AAAAAAAAHOg/qzWtLEc2pXo/s1600/10417700_10203572140601277_2845618973267644479_n.jpg" height="247" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Growing up I remember playing in my bathtub with my superhero
action figures. I had Batman, Robin, Superman and Aquaman who would defeat,
after a long battle, the soap demon or the wash cloth villain leaving us
victorious. We would go back to the Hall of Justice (my bedroom) and swap
stories of our defeat of evil. Each Saturday morning the <i>Justice League</i> cartoons would turn the living room into a
headquarters where I could watch my heroes defeat the likes of the Joker, Lex
Luther or any number of villains from the Legion of Doom. Even today, as old as
I am, I can’t wait for the next superhero blockbuster to come to the theaters.
Recently at the movies I saw some trailers and this summer is going to be fun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">As fun as those characters are to watch, they are fictitious.
Even Superman, whose motto is, “Truth, Justice and the American way,” isn't
really living in a city called Metropolis working for a newspaper. With these
larger than life heroes on television and in movie theaters it is easy to
overlook the real life heroes who live all around us. They are everywhere and
have placed their lives on the line for each of us in one way or another, they
are <b>America’s Heroes</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Throughout my travels, I have met and even spent time with
many who have laid it all on the line just so I can go around the country
telling jokes for a living. My dad spent time in the Army and tells stories all
the time of his days spent serving in the military. Just the other day he was
telling me how he was on alert for the Bay of Pigs crisis (look it up if you
don’t know). Everyone who was alive in the early 60’s remembers just where they
were when President Kennedy was assassinated and my dad is no different, he was
washing his army jeep when it came across the radio. I have heard stories from
many veterans around the country about their time in the service. Never once
have I heard them say they regretted their time. Although some didn't
appreciate being drafted, they still served with pride which still resonates in
them long after their discharge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">It doesn't just stop with our military folks but <b>America’s Heroes</b> are all around us.
There has been a lot of talk lately about our police around the country, even
on my Facebook some people post stories of the bad apples in the barrel (I am
convinced not all these are true but edited video clips to make them look bad).
But when you are in trouble, in a wreck or someone is poking around your house,
these men and women come ready to take on whatever challenge lies ahead of
them. Just the other day, here in Florida there was a shootout which resulted
in the injury of an officer. As much as I played cops and robbers as a kid, I
am not sure I want to be involved in a real life shoot out. But they are
willing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Firefighters rushing in a burning structure to help save the
family pet so everyone gets out alive or sees the family photo album about to
be engulfed so they carry it out to give back to the mother just so some
memories are preserved. They are <b>America’s
Heroes</b>. Even the crossing guards I pass when I take my daughter to school
each morning willingly step out into traffic to ensure our kids cross the
street to school or arrive home safely each day, <b>America’s Heroes</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">You see, they are all around us. They are our neighbors.
They sit next to us at church or stand in line with us at the grocery store.
They are often unsung, unnoticed and just go about their business which they
are ok with it seems. But if the need arises they will stand up to be counted.
They stand on the line between us and whatever evil is heading our way. They
are truly superheroes. Well better than that, they are <b>America’s Heroes</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">If you see one today, tell them thank you.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-92134164110478072942015-01-20T01:08:00.000-05:002015-01-20T01:09:14.899-05:00DREAMS OF CHILDHOOD<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eHmBducg8vY/VL3vjvdrkoI/AAAAAAAAG_k/Z1-KiOyZriY/s1600/181874_1802394896813_8036740_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eHmBducg8vY/VL3vjvdrkoI/AAAAAAAAG_k/Z1-KiOyZriY/s1600/181874_1802394896813_8036740_n.jpg" height="320" width="188" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always the cowboy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">When you’re a kid you have dreams, aspirations and they seem
as achievable as devouring your favorite candy bar. It didn’t matter that this
was the 1970’s, you were going to grow up to be a cowboy (insert Kid Rock’s <i>Cowboy</i> or Toby Keith’s <i>I should have been a cowboy</i> songs) riding
your horse chasing outlaws and those pesky Indians. Perhaps you had dreams of
riding around on big red trucks on your way to fight a three alarm fire. Did
you dream of being a policeman or something else courageous? As for me, I
wanted to be a cowboy as captured in many early photos. Then off to be a
race-car driver. I would have made it to the NASCAR circuit I have no doubts.
There was that brief stint of wanting to be a wrestler but I was always drawn
back to being a cowboy or a race-car driver.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">One thing I noticed while pondering the dreams of childhood
is there was no fear of the achievement. There was nothing saying, “You can’t”
not did any of those seem ridiculous. Imagine a child of the 60’s & 70’s
growing up to ride into town on his horse in 2015. It’s a pretty funny picture
isn't it but not to a seven year old. Something changes as we get older. We
begin to hear those words which put limitations on our dreams and place
roadblocks in path of our aspirations. The worst part is we begin to believe
what we hear and those roadblocks become insurmountable. The dreams die slowly
becoming stories we tell our kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Sometimes those dreams die because they just don’t make
sense like being a cowboy chasing outlaws. Other times they give way to true
dreams of what you want to be when you grow up. I've heard several people tell
me they have always dreamed of being a teacher, a policeman or a fireman.
Others have told me it wasn't until they became adults before they realized
what they wanted to do. For me, I am a mixture of both. I knew I wanted to
entertain, I just didn't know how I was going to accomplish this or what form
it would look like. One thing I did know was I could not sing or play a guitar.
So <i>American Idol</i> and the <i>Voice</i> are safe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Sometimes you really do have to grow up to realize what you
are going to be when you grow up. It’s the resolve of adulthood that allows you
withstand the barrage of naysayers saying, “You can’t” and figure out how to
get around the roadblocks in your way. Sadly, though many don’t. They succumb
to the pressures. Again, for me I think I have figured it out. With years of
being in front of different audiences in different situations I have come to
the realization that I am both an Entertainer and an Educator. That’s right,
you read it correctly (we will discuss this in future blogs).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Childhood dreams didn't see the roadblock nor did they hear
the naysayers so they dreamed. As an adult it is our job to silence the
naysayers by doing what we have the gifts to do and to walk around the
roadblocks standing in our way. This is accomplished simply by pressing on. It
isn't easy. Of course, neither was moving that pile of dirt with my Tonka
truck, but I moved it. So, I will write more stories designed to make audiences
laugh and speeches developed to encourage people. Seminars will be constructed
to help people learn how to be communicators and leaders. Perhaps you’re sitting
there and reading this saying, “You can’t.” <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">“LaLaLaLaLa, I can’t hear you.” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-5691474103667529282015-01-12T08:55:00.003-05:002015-01-12T09:03:06.462-05:00LOOK TO THE BIRDS<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vlB6npldeD8/VLPTrw2GliI/AAAAAAAAG5c/RDuMfJHNx-Y/s1600/VICTOR%2B-%2BWIN_20150112_085930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vlB6npldeD8/VLPTrw2GliI/AAAAAAAAG5c/RDuMfJHNx-Y/s1600/VICTOR%2B-%2BWIN_20150112_085930.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Listening to the birds and watching the squirrels. Florida living. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">There is nothing like waking up early in the morning to
experience the stillness of the day. The quiet that permeates throughout the
neighborhood. The slowness by which everyone moves seems to be everywhere. As I
sit on the back patio of my home here in Florida I am reminded of the coolness
of the morning. The threat of rain doesn't even begin to dampen the spirit of
the squirrels playing in my yard nor does it silence the singing of the birds
in the trees. They each have awaken to the same morning I have, with the same
tasks, yet they play and sing. Kind of
like the seven dwarfs from Snow White whistling while they work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">They have work to accomplish much like me. They have nuts to
gather and worms to collect. The other day I saw a hawk flying with a large
clump of Spanish moss in her beak to add to the family nest. A pretty cool
sight to say the least. Soon she will be laying eggs, protecting them from the
elements and then off to find food once her babies enter the world. Yet they
sing. They play. How can this be? How can they do this when there is work to be
done? Responsibilities to be taken care off? I think there instincts keep it
all in perspective so they have a song.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Jesus, himself, mentions this when discussing worry. He
says, “<i>Do not be anxious for your life,
as to what you shall eat, or what you shall drink; not for your body, as to
what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than
clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that do not sow, neither do they reap,
nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not
worth much more than they?</i>” (Matthew 7:25-26 NASB). So they sing and play.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Have you ever noticed how much happier you are on vacation?
There are no worries, no boss breathing down your neck and there is a song in
your heart. OK, maybe not the song part, but you are generally happier, right?
Why is that? Simple, you aren't worrying, you are living. You have a weight lifted.
Life can be pretty heavy at times with schedules to keep at work and often
times at home. There is many a morning I look at my “to do list” and just feel
overwhelmed. Too many times my “To Do List” becomes my “Things I want to do but
didn't list” and it tends to get longer. But I think for first time in my life
I have actually “looked at the birds.” I have seen that responsibilities and
work needs to get done but it isn't all there is. There is singing and playing
to be had.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">So as I continue to watch the squirrels and listen to the birds,
life comes into a better perspective. There is still much to do on my list of
what needs accomplished this week but why should I worry about it. As I take
each one on it will get accomplished and I will celebrate with playing or
singing (don’t worry there is no one around for me to torture with my lack of
ability).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">As I enter 2015 I will look at the birds and the squirrels.
Perhaps you would like to join me.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-42634384114065260882014-12-25T04:54:00.001-05:002014-12-25T04:54:08.224-05:00Vic Clevenger presents The Christmas Message<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/mADogUrATkA" width="480"></iframe>Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-41817408038143679652014-12-10T22:01:00.000-05:002014-12-10T22:09:02.336-05:00GET YOUR HEAD IN THE CLOUDS<br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Do you remember those family trips when your parents would keep you looking at the clouds to see the shapes as they emerged trying to save you from boredom and keep their sanity? In those clouds you saw everything from a dog to a dinosaur to a pirate ship. The sky, in those days, was a giant canvas full of endless possibilities for a child’s imagination. One summer afternoon the sky was a brilliant blue with clouds like cotton balls floating by, each changing shapes with the wind. I would see cars, animals and a variety of other pictures. Even today I will look at the sky to see if there is anything painted on the canvas of heaven.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">From a very young age we are taught to look into the sky and use our imagination. This skill of seeing disguised clouds floating along in the horizon would serve us well on those long summer days outside. As the wind slowly and gently blew them across the sky they would appear alive while a metamorphosis would take place before our eyes. Sometimes they would change into something better and other times just a big cotton ball. But each time you would look into the clouds, you could see something different and then you began to grow.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">As you grew your parents kept reminding you to get your head out of the clouds. Face the realities of the world in which you live. You will become a steel worker, a teacher, run a restaurant or something else reasonable. For some these are their dreams made real but for others not so much. Regardless of what you would become, you were encouraged to get your head out of the clouds and back to earth. In a way, they would be protecting us from pipe dreams that lead us to disappointment and preparing us for a life of real experience. Who could blame them really? They didn't know of anyone who had their head in the clouds and survived.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">However, so many success stories come as a result of people seeing their goals “in the clouds.” It doesn't matter if it is a movie star or CEO, they saw it. They imagined it. Sometimes their image changed with the age of time and the winds of reality but they kept their head in the clouds. Those kids who began writing songs as an elementary student dreaming of stardom would later become the Taylor Swifts of the world. Then there’s the guy who struck out of a small town to become the George Clooneys of Hollywood. Perhaps they heard “get your head out of the clouds” but they chose not to pay any attention to it.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The reality of life is this. Dreams change and perhaps yours has. Another reality is not everyone can be famous but flip that coin over because some can be, so why can it not be you? The clouds are full of limitless possibilities of shapes and sizes. So are your dreams. You can become whatever you chose to become. You just have to stay determined and focused. It certainly won’t happen if you don’t do anything towards the goal of capturing your dreams.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">If you want it, then get your head in the clouds.</span>Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-54864331878539524052014-11-22T09:25:00.000-05:002014-11-22T09:25:08.156-05:00FROM THE DARKNESS COMES THE LIGHT OF CREATIVITY<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The door is left open, nightlight is turned on yet it didn't deter the occasional a jump into the parent’s bed in the middle of the night.
Have you been there? If you are a parent, of course you have. You’re also
familiar with the words, “I’m afraid of the dark.” “Why be afraid of the dark?”
we try to reason with the frightened toddler. But how can you reason with
someone who has seen a mountain lion poke its head out of the closet or felt
the monster under the bed. The noises heard from the dinosaur outside the
window have the covers pulled all the way up only revealing two eyeballs
searching the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Recently I read a quote, “Creativity, like human life itself
begins in darkness.” This to me proved to be profound because, we have never
been more creative than when we were little kids in the dark. There laying in
our bed, the darkness of night around us, we created monsters with multiple
eyes and sharp teeth. Ghosts hid in the corner and the alligators on the floor
almost daring us to get out of bed. As we got older we began reasoning and what
we had created had become a shirt on a hanger or a pair of shoes barely under
the bed. As we got older the fear of darkness dissipated as did our creativity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">After reading that quote I began to think about the darkness
and why we were so creative then. Outside of just plan paranoia, which I might
add most kids don’t have, I think there are 3 reasons why were more creative in
the dark. If we can reacquaint ourselves with the darkness perhaps creativity
will reign once again in our minds. We have forgotten about the mountains we
conquered, the robbers we caught and the sword fights we experienced. Perhaps,
we can once again, be creative.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">In the darkness there is <b><i>quiet</i></b>. When you laid
there in your bed, you would hear every growl of the monsters and the click of
their claws against the floor. All because the quiet drew your attention to
every sound and you had no other option than figure out what it was, those
monsters. There is a benefit to the stillness of the night (or morning) which
permits you to hear your thoughts. If you want to get in touch with your
creativity again, mark out a time where you can just be quiet. Perhaps it’s on
you back deck with a cup of coffee as the birds sings. Maybe you have to wait
till the kids are actually down for the night before there is a stillness for
you. Whatever it is, you need to find it. Even the Bible gives value to the
stillness and quietness. It’s when Elijah was finally not distracted by the
noise and commotion that he heard the voice of God, in just a whisper (1 Kings 19:9-12).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The fear comes in the darkness when we lay there <b><i>alone</i></b>.
Mom would tuck her little man into bed then leave and there he would be by
himself. Sometimes even the bedtime story wouldn't work, often feeding into our
thoughts as we lay there with no one around but the monsters. A lot can be said
about finding some time where there are no distractions. Nothing but you and
your thoughts running wherever they may. Each morning I awake before everyone
else (or at least I try), grab my pen and pad then write whatever is in my
head, free-writing (not typing on my computer) three pages each day. I have
written jokes, articles, have had ideas for TV shows and been very creative
when it’s just me. Not to mention all the ‘To Do’ and grocery lists I have
created. But it’s more about capturing my thoughts, its unleashing a flow of
creativity which allows me to explore areas otherwise pushed aside or not even
seen due to the distractions around me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The third reason we were more creative in the darkness was
because we used our <b><i>imagination</i></b>.<b><i> </i></b>While we laid there engulfed with
darkness, we saw what wasn't there. We would hear sounds and then imagined what
they were. They were real to us, those monsters under the bed and dinosaurs
outside the window. We just knew once we were tucked in for the night our floors
turned in moats or lakes filled with kid eating alligators. But it only
happened when it was dark and we saw them with our mind’s eye, our imagination.
Then we got older and our imagination grew dimmer as more light of reality
shown on it. We just forgot our bed was actually a ship floating in the ocean
and our cap guns would protect us from any danger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The next time the lights go out and you are blanketed with
darkness don’t be afraid. Instead, use the light of creativity to open a whole
new world.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-6290343579076271562014-10-24T10:36:00.000-04:002014-10-24T10:36:12.525-04:00HALLOWEEN: Have Fun, There's Nothing To Be Afraid Of<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">It’s Halloween time and I am looking back on the stuff I
used to like. I guess I still like them but just never do them anymore. Such as
Trick or Treating. Going from door to door in the neighborhood dresses in a
costume and asking…no wait…expecting the person behind the door to give me
candy. My mom would tell me stories of when she was a kid and instead of candy
it would be money, mainly pennies or nickels. Beggers night is what she would
call it. When you look back on it, I guess that is what we did and in a way
they still do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Then there are all the stories to go along with the night.
Ghosts, Goblins and Witches rule the night going in and out of the shadows. A
full moon’s glow with and eerie night cloud floating by it only makes the most
scary night of the year more fun. Then hospitals opening the doors to X-ray
candy and those apples Mrs. White always gave out to the neighborhood kids. They
would look for razor blades, synergies and any other spooky threat perpetrated
on the un-suspecting youth. Nothing was
ever found or reported but still they would look, adding to the “terror” of the
night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">What about all those movies which would come out at this
time. The Nightmare’s which happened on Elm Street or the camp kids getting
hacked by dude in a hockey mask. Then there was the crazy brother who
terrorized his sister, especially around Halloween. Not to mention the Screams,
the houses at the end of the street and the campy ones making fun of all the
others. Designed to frighten people, these movies were a God-send to guys on
dates. Fun nights were had as we played protector or were they just wanting us
to put our arm around them? Ahh a mystery for the ages.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Haunted houses, Halloween alternatives and a variety of
other events helping create memories in our minds as we get older. Entertaining
every one with stories around back-yard fires as we cooked hotdogs are on a
stick and with those gooey marshmallows. We impart these rites of passages to our
kids so they can have the same yet different memories to pass on to their children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">So this Halloween, put on your favorite costume, watch your
favorite scary movie but most of all remember this is for the kids. Allow them
to have fun and teach them to enjoy life by not being afraid of those things
that can do no harm. We need to stop raising our kids to be afraid at every
shadow and raise them to enjoy living.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Have fun…there’s nothing to be afraid of.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-71245862275526034762014-09-21T13:41:00.001-04:002014-09-21T14:02:49.255-04:00LIFE ON THE ROAD IS NO VACATION<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kKXpdsqNq0Y/VB8SQV9PY-I/AAAAAAAAF5E/7H9zQVD2W6c/s1600/20140920_151516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kKXpdsqNq0Y/VB8SQV9PY-I/AAAAAAAAF5E/7H9zQVD2W6c/s1600/20140920_151516.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My "Five Star" Hotel Room</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Life on the road is a glamorous life. You’re on vacation all
the time. There’s a party 24/7 in your five star hotels. The only reason you
aren't in a four diamond hotel is you don’t want to appear haughty and out of
touch. Picked up at your door whenever it’s time for your show and you’re
whisked away to a microphone in the glow of a spotlight. Once autographs are
signed and pictures taken you’re then chauffeured back to your awaiting king
size room with a pillow top king size bed befitting the celebrity you are.
Well, that’s what people think…shoot it’s what I think, sometimes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I have stayed in fine hotels and have seen many great
sights. From the Puget Sound to the Niagara Falls, to quote Johnny Cash, “I've
been everywhere man.” I recently had my first trip to Canada and have swam in
the Caribbean. This, many believe is the norm, but it isn't, at least for me it’s
not. I think many celebrities feel the same way. What you consider a vacation
is our job. I know we aren’t building cars in Detroit or farming tobacco in
Kentucky but its work still the same. For the most part, all most see is the
escape from real life, i.e. a vacation. Flashing bulbs of cameras, nice clothes
and fancy cars, that’s the life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Well, today I’m in another city and I’m not even sure I can
remember the name. My “Five Star” hotel is a block room painted diarrhea green
with one wall that’s orange. The complementary mouthwash has something floating
in it and there is no coffee. I didn't even know they made hotels with no
coffee anymore. I have been on the road or as some call it, vacation, for 9 days
and I have 2 more to go. On Monday I’ll be up at 4am to drive to the airport to
drop the car off (yep I drive myself everywhere) and catch a flight back to
Florida where I will wash clothes to get ready to do it again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I’m not complaining, you see, it’s the life I chose…rather, it’s
the life that chose me. To not be touring, traveling the friendly skies or
driving the country’s highways would be denying what I was made to do. I've
never been a homebody and I have always wanted to see the world from a
windshield and in some cases, a rear-view mirror. Dreams and the pursuit of
those dreams have been my driving force for as long as I can remember. Standing
in front of a mirror, hairbrush in hand, singing Elvis songs complete with
guitar (no strings on it by the way) I dreamed of being on the road…being a
star. But chasing a dream as I have come to find out is hard work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Waking up each morning full of hopes and promise only to
fall asleep at night wondering if there is still more to do then you begin
again the next day. Each time you get a gig or even an interest you count it as
a good day but those days you hear nothing provides you with a choice. Do you
doubt yourself leading to giving up or do you wake up that next morning, no
matter how tired, with hope and promise ready to grab that dream? If this life
chose you, then you wake up ready.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Life on the road is no vacation, but for me it’s a dream
coming true.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-56773536900433526782014-09-12T10:17:00.000-04:002014-09-12T10:17:42.188-04:00I'M FLYING HIGH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hY3dnHT0Un0/VBMAHwJIHNI/AAAAAAAAFyQ/-enlcKdftbw/s1600/VICTOR%2B-%2BWIN_20140911_075039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hY3dnHT0Un0/VBMAHwJIHNI/AAAAAAAAFyQ/-enlcKdftbw/s1600/VICTOR%2B-%2BWIN_20140911_075039.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Here I am at over 30,000 feet in the air and all my mind is
thinking about is, “air travel is barely 100 years old.” I remember learning in
history class even one of the Wright brothers flew planes in World War 1. This
is just fascinating to me. With every bump in the…wait, how does air have
bumps? They call it turbulence which I guess is air pockets, rough weather and
nothing to be concerned about, so they tell us when it happens. All because two
brothers from Ohio took an idea of air travel and made it a reality. For which
I thank them and my pilot. For me air travel is the best way to go. Always an
adventure worth experiencing and fodder for stories.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I remember one flight we hit one of those air pockets and
dropped a several feet. Just how many feet I don’t know but we fell none the
less. The little boy in the seat in front of me turned to his mother and asked
her a question just as sincere as it was loud, “Hey Mom. If we fell from this
high would we die?” The mother, obviously embarrassed, tried to quiet him while
answering his question. Every few minutes and until we landed, the curious
toddler continued to ask, “How about this high, Mom?” The mom knew she was
fighting a losing battle trying to teach him talking about crashing in a plane
isn’t a great topic for conversation. As for me, I laughed and hoped he would
ask it louder. It was more entertaining than an in-flight movie.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Air travel does has its ups and downs though. The lay overs
in towns you don’t know and not enough time to leave the airport to experience
them. Recently coming home from some shows in upstate New York my wife and I
had a delayed flight which erased any time to grab something to eat and almost
erased our being able to get to our connecting flight. I hate running through
airports. Well, I don’t run…ever. I may walk fast but never run. There is
always a story to relay when asked how was my trip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Once I was getting ready to head through security and got
fast passed. They had chosen me to get pre-screened which bumped me to the head
of the line. I didn’t have to take off my shoes or anything. Through security I
headed to Starbucks as is my ritual. When I got there the guy in line said, “Here,
go ahead of me, I’m waiting for someone.” This is turning out to be a great
flight. Arrived to my seat on the Boeing 737, removed my flip flops and settled
in to relax while reading my book. As we took off on my perfect flight sent to
me from the Lord above I heard a young child say, “Uh Oh.” I’m the father of
two girls and I’ve heard enough “Uh Oh’s” to know this wasn’t good. Soon my bare
feet discovered the source of this “Uh Oh” as they were covered in slushy.
Almost on cue, another child began to cry. My perfect flight quickly became
less than perfect to say the least.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">But today I am having a great flight to Michigan. Other than
my head plugging up, it’s perfect (the two children on the plane are behind me
and quiet). It’s the 13<sup>th</sup> Anniversary of 9/11 so I am feeling
patriotic, proud to be an American and grateful to those brothers from the
Buckeye state for developing this mode of transportation. In spite of the kid asking
his mom if we would die or my slushy covered feet, I love to fly. This has
taught me to take the good with the bad. The good is always better but without
the slushy feet and layovers, I may not appreciate the good as much. This is
such a great lesson to remember for our everyday walk in life. All because two
bicycle repairing brothers made the dream of air travel a reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">So today, at 30,000 feet, all I can say is, “Nice job Mr.
Pilot. But if we were to fall from here…” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-89064873489619981812014-09-03T10:19:00.001-04:002014-09-03T10:19:08.459-04:00I HATED SCHOOL<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I hated school. There I said it. I said what almost every
student thinks and how they feel each time they wake up at 6am so they can be
at school by the time class starts. My youngest daughter is actually up at
5:30am getting dressed, putting together her own lunch all while hollering at
me to hurry so I can drive her to her “job.” When she arrives home she’ll watch
a little TV then its homework. Supper time allows her a little break but then
she is right back at it until bed time, which for her is about 8:30ish. No
wonder she dreads Mondays through Fridays. I did to, except I wasn’t near as
studious as her. For me I enjoyed being at school to see all my buddies but
those dang classes got in our way. As a result I was an average student scooting
by on barley enough. Not my daughters, for which I am both grateful and
extremely proud.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">As I get older, though, I realize what I missed by not being
a student. To me it was a classification of <i>what</i>
I was but it wasn’t <i>who</i> I was. It’s
that distinction that kept me from being as successful as I could have been. I
still may have never been Valedictorian or Salutatorian but I certainly could
have done better, perhaps even have earned some scholarships for college. I was
content to show up and just fill the seat until I got to see my buddies between
classes. If I could go back with what I know now, things would certainly be
different. I would have studied more played less, well maybe not played less
certainly loafed less. Making better use of my time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I have now applied that “study more loaf less” concept to my
work as an entertainer. I still like hanging out with my buddies or sit on a
boat fishing but it all has its place. Because if it doesn’t I will remain a no
name comic among other no name comics all of us hanging out talking about when
we “make it” not really doing what it takes to get where we want to go. Too
many of us take our good time high school/college living into our career life
then wonder why some make it and we don’t. This came home to me a while back
when I was hanging out with a comic who got “the call.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">We were all hanging out when this comic was invited by a
friend of ours to come over to the house to watch sports. A great invitation. Food,
drinks and sports on TV how could you turn this down? Not to mention the opportunity
to hang out with a great friend he’s not seen in a while. What would your
response have been? If you’re like most of us you would have said, “I’ll be
there as soon as I get up and shower.” Not this comic. He simply declined the
invite. He wanted to go. He wanted to spend the day watching football but there
was something more pressing, his career. In order for him to reach his goals,
he needed to chill in his hotel room, alone, to write. To be creative. To
prepare. To research. Because he knows to reach his goals, he needs to be a
student and that requires some sacrifices. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Every successful entertainer, CEO or sports figure is a
student. They are a student of their craft. They know sacrifices will need to
be made in order to be in the top of their class. Do they play? Do they loaf or
have down time? Of course they do. The difference is knowing when play time is
and it’s not all the time. They realize the need for rest and when it’s the
proper time. This is the mark of successful students. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Hello. My name is Vic. I’m a student.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-27117122768311685122014-08-18T09:17:00.002-04:002014-08-18T09:17:41.679-04:00HAVE YOU MISSED ME?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Have I been missed? Did you wonder where my weekly words of
wisdom have gone? Did you say to yourself, “He must be super busy and that’s
why he isn't writing anything”? I certainly hope I have been missed even if my
words are far from wisdom. I wish I could tell you I have been so busy
conquering the entertainment world that I just couldn't find the time to write.
I wish I could even tell you, life got in the way, preventing me from putting
my thoughts in cyber form for you to read. I wish I could tell you, my dear
reader, a lot of things, but truth be told, I can’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Life didn't get in the way nor have I been so busy that I
couldn't write. My trouble is I've had a bout of the Lazies. TV shows needed
watched. Naps needed taken. Mindless, near comatose, pure laziness was all it
was. I apologize to you, reader of my prose. I wish I had a better excuse. I
wish I could say it was a hangnail on my typing hand. I wish I could have even
hung up a sign reading, “Gone Fishing” but I didn't even do that. I just didn't
feel like it. I didn't want to write (and you know how much I love it). Then I
wondered if I really had anything of value to say. If there was any real value
found in the pictures I try to paint in your mind. But here I sit on an
airplane thinking I have robbed you of any value you might find. In reality,
though, I have robbed myself these past weeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">You see, I write because I enjoy it. I hope you do as well,
but I do it for me. I do have thoughts in my head and writing helps me fine
tune those thoughts into my own masterpiece. I guess most writers or composers
feel the same way. They don’t necessarily write for you the reader but rather
because it is in them and it has to come out. A great poem, story or even a
song is written from the mind, the heart of its author. Emily Dickinson’s poems
weren't discovered until after her death and she is listed in literary history
as one of the best. She wrote them for herself and we were blessed to discover
them. Beethoven was blind yet composed great music because it was in him and
needed to come out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Although I hope you read my words and enjoy them, I write
them for me. I write them because it’s in me to write them. My words may not
roll of the page like an Ernest Hemingway novel or an Edgar Allen Poe story,
they are still my words put up for you to read and hopefully take away
something useful. If not I will continue to write for my own therapy and
edification. If you can gain anything from this today, take this, do not let
laziness keep you from doing what you should be doing. For you not only rob us
of your gift but you rob yourself of being who you are.</span></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-85839568548882450832014-06-23T23:11:00.002-04:002014-06-23T23:16:42.302-04:00HERE COMES THE DREAMER<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Growing up in Eastern Kentucky, church was a big part of my
life, as it is with most people raised in the south. Our weekly routine was
simple, if the doors of the church were open then we walked through them.
Sunday morning, Sunday night and the dreaded Wednesday night. If there wasn’t
any youth group meeting on Wednesday then we had to sit in the adult Bible
study. But Mom said we had to go so my brother and I went. As a result, a lot
of the stories from the Bible sunk in and stick with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">There was a king so fat, when he was assassinated with a
sword, his fat engulfed the whole knife. Guys were thrown in a furnace, a
lion’s den and swallowed by a giant fish and lived to talk about it. A donkey
spoke and a snake tempted. There are stories of treachery, love, victories and
agonies which captivate as they draw you in, so much so, you forget your
hearing a story from the Bible. One such story draws my attention to new
aspects and nuances each time I hear it. A simple story of a guy with seemingly
no direction in life yet turns out to be on the path of his purpose all along. When
he walked up to a crowd, people would mockingly say, “Here comes the dreamer!”
Yet, there are a few lessons we can learn from Joseph and his dreams. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Some are Not Going to Believe in You. </span></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">When Joseph revealed his dreams to his brothers they were jealous,
made fun of him and even told their dad he was one weird cat. Even his dad told him to get his head out of
the clouds. Dreamers often face this lack of support from family and friends.
They may get a ceremonial pat on the head or a verbal cheer lacking sincerity.
This is a usual outcome because dreams lack practicality and are foreign to the
non-dreamers. Yet, like Joseph, you must not give in to their lack of belief.
As a matter of fact, their lack of faith in your dream is all the more reason
you most continue to cultivate a strong faith in you and your dream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Some Will Try to Derail You.</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></b></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Joseph’s brothers were so fed up
with him and his dreams, they devised a plan to get rid of him. The oldest
altered their plan to kill him to sell him into slavery then tell their dad he
was attacked. I am sure Joseph wondered what would happen to him and his
dreams, but he stay on track. He didn’t fully understand how it was all going
to work out and he knew if he allowed himself to get off course it definitely
wouldn’t reach fruition. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Some will Seek to Contain You.</span><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"> </span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Joseph became a well-respected
employee in a high ranking official’s business until he was placed in a position
that would compromise his dream. When he stood firm with who he was, he was
lied about, framed and then falsely imprisoned. Being shut out from everyone,
ostracized even, is a form of containment and can tempt you compromise your
dreams in an effort to be accepted. In the end all you have accomplished is changing
your dream to someone else’s, confining yourself to less than what you could
be. Dreamers remain committed to the dream regardless of how dreary, damp and
dark the dungeon of containment may seem. Dreams stay focused on a bigger
picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Some will Commit to You.</span></i></b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">While in prison, Joseph treated
everyone with respect and helped one realize his dream even when it meant his
friend would achieve his goal before him. When the opportunity arose, however,
Joseph’s friend recommended Joseph. He wasn’t forgotten about, just the opposite
in fact. This guy believed in Joseph’s abilities so much he risked everything with
his suggestion. Long story short, Joseph became the most powerful person
(except for the Pharaoh) in the country and his dreams were fulfilled. The
reason for this rests with Joseph. Sure he had help but had he doubted himself,
given up or comprised his dreams he would not have been in the position which
allowed him to make his dreams a reality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">When you walk into a room and hear someone say, “Here comes
the dreamer,” hold your head up and say, “Yes I am.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-59836941607973006942014-05-27T00:05:00.004-04:002014-05-27T00:06:36.680-04:00MEMORIES<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Memories are tricky things. They often come at the most
inopportune time. They will pop into your mind, often times for no reason at
all. I was watching a fast food commercial once then “astounded” my kids with a
story of my youth which had nothing to do with the commercial. Often times they
look at me and say, “That was random” or “What made you think of that?” To
which I have no good answer, it just happened and once you have heard some of
my stories, my daughters’ questions/statements make a lot more sense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I imagine you have had similar experiences though. How about
this? Have you ever gone into the kitchen (or any room for that matter) then
stop dead in your tracks with a confused look on your face and wonder to
yourself, “Why in the world did I come in here?” You stand there confused, a
little embarrassed and then just turn around going back to where you just came
from wondering if you will ever remember why but kind of sure you won’t. The funniest part is when you are watching it
happen to someone else and you watch them start over trying to jog their memory
by retracing their steps only for it to be forever lost. When it happens to me
I always think to myself, “I never needed it anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">However, I do have those memories, as I am sure we all do,
that we wish we could forget. It could that time you embarrassed yourself in
front the girl you had a crush on in high school. Maybe there is something no one else knows
that you wish didn’t happen and could forget about. But it’s those memories
which have helped mold you into the person you are, and hopefully for the
better. It’s one of those cool things about memories, it teaches us, molds us
and gives us a little enlightenment as to why we are the way we are. Sometimes
those memories allows us the opportunity to connect with those who are younger,
bridging, ever so slightly, the generation gap with a story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Memories are history. Our history and our family’s history.
One person once said, “If we don’t learn from history, we are destined to
repeat it.” That’s our memories and the lessons that come with them. On this
Memorial Day weekend, I have thought about what I was going to grill and how I
would celebrate it. Burgers, hot dogs or steaks? Those are my tough decisions
to make. Will I have baked beans or mac and cheese? Probably both. Then there
are a dozen other items that need my attention on this Holiday. In the midst of
all the festivities the most important part of it could be lost and perhaps for
many it did. The part which causes us to remember. Remember the soldiers who
have giving their lives just so I could be put in the overwhelming position of
having to decide between burgers or hot dogs. On this day I will offer you a little help of memory.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Remember the Alamo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">This day will live in infamy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Lest we forget, 9-11.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-54433588132485660132014-05-19T00:20:00.002-04:002014-05-19T00:25:58.678-04:00I HATE YARD WORK<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kOvipkhfjvM/U3mFySBmiXI/AAAAAAAAEq0/vpBqm1I1w4w/s1600/IMAG0138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kOvipkhfjvM/U3mFySBmiXI/AAAAAAAAEq0/vpBqm1I1w4w/s1600/IMAG0138.jpg" height="400" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">My Name in Neon (chalk)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Yard work is the one chore I dread the most. I wake up Saturday morning knowing the yard needs to be mowed, weeds trimmed and the gutters cleaned out. I will drink a cup of coffee, perhaps 3 or four, while I “think” about how to form a plan of attack and get it all accomplished. In essence, however, I’m just putting off what I know needs to be done, so it isn't really the yard work I dread as much as actually starting it. It’s been said, “Every journey begins with the first step.” The same is true with yard work, it all begins with the first step toward the garage for the yard tools. Each tool has its purpose to accomplish, a specific task to, supposedly, make my job easier and more tolerable. But I know I am still going to sweat and get dirty.</span><div>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br />Of all the chores I do, the one I dread the most is the cleaning out of the gutters. It involves getting out the ladder, setting it up in the right spot then climbing it, one rung at a time, while carrying my leaf blower. I just know it’s going to be frustrating at times and a struggle to get those leaves out. I’m going to get sweaty not to mention all the leaves and gunk covering me as the blower forces them into the air. Bottom line is it’s not glamorous. Just the opposite in fact. It can get extremely dirty, and difficult at times. It’s actually much like climbing the ladder to success.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br />Too often when we look at our successful heroes who are walking red carpets and generally living the “jet-set” that’s all we see, the glamour. I’ve been guilty of looking at the name in lights and forgetting about the times when their name was written in sharpie. I rolled into Louisiana once, excited to do my show thinking, “They’ve never heard anything like me” until I saw my name written in neon chalk on the sign out front. Then, with laughter in my head, I realized my name will be erased with the swipe of the hand or a good strong breeze. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Staring at our heroes standing at the top of the ladder, we totally overlook all the rungs they stepped on to get there. The ones standing at the top, for the most part, know what it took. They know on one rung they learned the value of networking. On another was the lesson of marketing. Then others consisting of practice, material, business and the rungs go on and one. For the entertainer it’s in those dive bars they learned the value of connection or how to further hone their art form. Every rung brings you higher, closer to the end goal. Make no mistake, however, you might slip on a rung or get stuck on one for a time, but they will take you closer to your dreams as you climb. Slow or fast, you still have to climb it one rung at a time.<br /><br />Excuse me now while I go get my ladder and work in the yard. Man, I hate yard work.</span></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-81268254511124924872014-05-11T22:41:00.006-04:002014-05-11T22:41:54.973-04:00THE INVISIBLE MAN<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I remember going to dances in high school and seeing those group of kids standing along the perimeter of the room not sure what to do. I’m not sure how they are referred to now days, but we called them wall flowers back in the day. Most movies depict those awkward teenagers as nerds and just socially inept. Outcasts from the social elite even to the point where they walk the hallways like ghosts. You never really see them as they quietly blend into the background, never noticed or doing anything to draw attention to themselves. These invisible students just go about their lives, living in the shadows doing what they do hardly ever finding their way into the light. <br /><br />This invisible mentality can also move from high school/college right into your work life. In the move The Office there was a character who just came to work, stayed quiet and no one even noticed him even when they discovered he had not received a paycheck for a long period of time. With belly laughs, we laugh at those scenarios the characters find themselves, mainly because, we identify with them. Yet we still get up the next morning go to work only to blend in. Creativity is hidden, even squelched. Ideas are dismissed and along we go one of many who clock in then clock out as wall flowers. <br /><br />How many reading this have ever felt like you are in the background? Not even background noise just background, almost invisible. I know I’ve felt this way. I live on stage in front of people all the time yet I find myself struggling to not be invisible. It is a struggle. People drift to the sidelines for a variety of reasons. Some lack the self-confidence to be involved, share little to no interests with the group, or a number of other reasons. But how does one correct this? How can they go from being invisible to being seen? The quick and most honest answer I have is, I don’t know. I don’t know what the psychologist and the other experts on this subject will tell you. All I know for sure is what I do, what works for me. <br /><br />In a nutshell, I decide not be background. It’s a conscience effort. Every day I wake and I have a decision to make. A decision whether I will be invisible, overlooked and forgotten or not be. Every morning I make the decision to walk out of my house with my head up seeking to make my way. Maybe this will help you wake up and decide to not be background. <br /><br />I wake up and decide on this day I will pursue my passion. My passion is to be an entertainer and everything I choose to do has to fit under this heading. From comedy, to writing and even giving speeches, I decide. I wake up deciding to follow my passion. Although I do get sidetracked even a bit distracted and go off-roading so to speak, it’s a decision I conscientiously have to make. My passion is important to me, which is why it’s a passion. If it weren't my passion it would be an interest or worse just a hobby. <br /><br />The second decision I wake up making is perhaps the hardest but I still make it. It isn’t easy but it has to be done and to be honest sometimes I fail. But I don’t allow it to stop me, in fact it makes me become more resolute in this decision. In addition to deciding to follow my passion, I wake up and decide “not everyone has to notice me.” Yep, that’s it and it is hard especially for someone who feeds on the attention. You have to decide to be happy with who you are even when no one is looking. You must decide what you will be when you are alone. <br /><br />To stop being a wilting wall flower and be visible all you have to do is wake up and decide. Trust me, it’s easier said than done, but you can do it.</span>Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-44894355711838478042014-05-04T19:25:00.001-04:002014-05-04T20:16:17.968-04:00OUTLAWS ALWAYS TAKE THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Outlaws have always had a peculiar way of capturing our
interest. We seem to be more fascinated with those who color outside the lines
than those who use the lines as a guide. Many reading this may think I’m referring to the likes
of Jessie James and Billy the Kid, although, colorful Outlaws, I’m writing about those who are the Outlaws in any particular industry, namely
entertainment. Every profession has them. Take Galileo for instance. He went
against the Scientific & Religious views when he touted the unpopular view
of the Earth rotating around the Sun rather than the other way. He even spent
time in jail for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The thing about Outlaws is they refuse to be boxed in by
society rules and norms. Rather, they often become our heroes and role models in
life. George Washington and the rest of the revolutionaries are great examples
of this, rebelling against the status quo and the British Empire. As history
has proved, it’s worked out pretty well. When you walk through the halls of the
history of the world you see portrait after portrait of rebels, Outlaws
and the like who go against the grain only to be regarded as heroes. Within the
entertainment world it isn't any different. It’s those who choose to go their
own way we turn into legends, eventually. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Artists such as Waylon Jennings fight for what they believe
in and for who they are at their core. His “<i><b>Wanted:
The Outlaws</b></i>” album was the first Platinum album to be seen in Nashville
much to the chagrin of the radio executives (until they saw money was to be
made). Elvis Presley chose to shake and gyrate his body to the point society
called him the Devil. Now we simply know him as the King of Rock & Roll, a
hero. The Blue Collar Comedy Tour is an example for four guys going against
what the comedy hierarchy says was true comedy entertainment, to the point the
higher ups wanted nothing to do with Foxworthy and the boys. But they became
the highest grossing comedy tour in the history of comedy tours, then the
entertainment world jumped on their bandwagon. Three examples of Outlaws becoming
heroes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">What it boils down to is those who make the rules and “control”
the given industry often times have no idea what will actually work. They
strong arm and bully their “show ponies” making them dance to the beat they set.
They disavow and disown anyone who goes against the path they've set. Enter
the Outlaw. He will do his own thing even if there are no riches involved. He
will go his own way, even if alone. He will not be bullied and sets his own beat, even if he
has to play all the instruments himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Robert Frost spoke of the outlaw (sort of) in his poem, <i>The Road Less Traveled</i>. The Outlaw takes
this road. This road isn't easy, oftentimes lonely and has the occasional pothole
of doubt. He is branded the rebel, the heretic and even of the devil (remember
Elvis) but he wouldn't have it any other way. His mind just works differently.
His attitude is his own. His satisfaction is knowing he is true to himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">On the heart of the Outlaw are the last words of Robert
Frost’s poem, “<i>Two roads diverged
in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the
difference</i>.” All the difference indeed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">THE ROAD LESS
TRAVELED<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin-left: 2.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: center; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">-
<!--[endif]-->Robert Frost<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Two roads diverged in a yellow wood<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And sorry I could not travel both<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And be one traveler, long I stood<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And looked down one as far as I could<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To where it bent in the undergrowth;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then took the
other, as just as fair<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And having perhaps
the better claim<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Because it was
grassy and wanted wear;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Though as for that
the passing there<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Had worn
them really about the same,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And both that
morning equally lay<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In leaves no step
had trodden black<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Oh, I kept the
first for another day!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yet knowing how way
leads to way,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I doubted if I
should ever come back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I shall be telling
this with a sigh<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Somewhere ages and
ages hence:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Two roads diverged
in a wood, and I –<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I took the one less
traveled by,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; tab-stops: 183.75pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">And that has made
all the difference.</span><span style="color: #333333;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-35415009824919738472014-04-28T22:45:00.000-04:002014-04-28T22:58:01.813-04:00NASHVILLE: The Land of DREAMERS and DOERS.<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">A few weeks ago I had a three hour layover in one of the
greatest cities in the country, Nashville, TN. So I spent this time in the
World Famous Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge (airport edition). As I sat there, the
place was busting at the seams. The singer on stage was playing and singing old country
classics. This packed restaurant became a classic country choir and it was
amazingly fun. If I had to have a layover, I couldn't have planned it any
better. Three hours in Music City USA and I felt the old fires burning deep
inside me. Fires that can only be fueled by the atmosphere of Nashville, even
if I only made it as far as the airport.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">This is what makes this town such a unique place. On every
corner you see and hear people, young and old, living out their dream of making
it. Keep in mind their idea of “making it” may just be playing music for a
living whether they’re heard on the radio or not. Dream chasing just oozes from
the veins here. One cannot walk into a bar in the lower Broadway area and not
hear music playing. It happens at all hours, different bands and
singers switching shifts throughout the day just like the wait staff. From all
over the country, each one came to this town just to play music in hopes of
being discovered or bumping into someone already on the radio. Nashville, TN the place where people come to
chase their dreams. They may drive beat up trucks or arrive on a bus but they come,
their dreams are what puts the breath in their lungs, so they come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">People all over America have dreams. They dream of a nice
home with the perfect family. They dream of winning the lottery. They dream of
their name in lights or on playbills. It isn't any accident the term “American
Dream” was coined. We are dreamers. I have them, you have them and those singers
in Nashville have them. However, there is more to it than just having dream.
It’s what sets you apart from the dreamers to the doers that makes the
difference. Actually, it’s the determination to go from dreamer to doer that
makes one successful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Far too many people are content to dream. Dreams
help us sleep. Dreams give us something to talk about. But if dreaming is all
we do then the streets of Nashville would grow quiet and stages across the
country would be empty. It’s the drive, the determination that turns dreams into
music. It transforms dreams into reality. It isn't just in the entertainment
world, it’s in every realm, where determined dreamers find success, which isn't
always fame and fortune, but success nonetheless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">The difference between the Dreamers and the Doers is The
Dreamers dream then sleep and the Doers dream then they do. Which one will you
be, a slumbering Dreamer or a successful Doer?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-24567779743578760702014-04-21T22:33:00.001-04:002014-04-21T22:34:58.172-04:00LOOK!...A SQUIRREL.<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Plans today is to go for a long bike ride. It’s my New
Year’s resolution from last year. Ride my bicycle at least three days a week,
however winter was a rough one and I got out the habit. I felt guilty about it
so I sat around until that feeling went away. Today that is all going to change.
I haven’t gained all my weight back from being on a bike riding hiatus but I
have gained some. When I get started here in a little bit I will be ahead of
the curve. By the time summer hits I will not only look better more importantly
I will feel better. Here lately too many of contemporaries have passed away due
to unhealthy living, that’s not going to be me. I’m planning one being here a
bit longer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Well, that’s how my morning began. When I got up I put on my
exercise shorts and tee shirt with all the intentions of the world of going.
When I ride, I really ride. 9 miles is minimum for me and its nothing for me to
be return a few hours later having rode 18 miles or more. As I was preparing to
leave Shadow needed to go out to do whatever it is he needed to do outside
which among those activities usually includes chasing lizards. If he gets one,
which 9 times out of 10 he does, it will be a little bit before he is ready to
come back in. Knowing this, I grabbed my trusty laptop and proceeded to work.
Before I knew it, I was in the middle of a project and the juices were flowing.
Briefly interrupted to let shadow back in, I was engulfed and had all but
forgotten to go for a ride. Distractions number 1 and number 2.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">OK, it’s time to re-group and get out there to ride. I have
to get in better shape. So here we go, time to ride. Wait, look at that sink.
Those girls of mine! I wish they could do their chores without being told. I
can’t leave it like that. I can’t stand a dirty kitchen. Many people don’t know
this about me but I like to cook. I don’t cook often and it’s usually something
I do on the grill or smoker but I want a clean kitchen just in case I take the
notion to cook something. So off to straighten the kitchen. Distraction number
3.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Well the kitchen looks better, however it’s time for Rebecca
to come in from school so now I just can’t go. She can’t come home with me not
here (although she does so about every other day) because if I’m gone she will
just text me until I can’t concentrate on my ride. So I might as well give up
on my ride today and begin brand new tomorrow. Distraction number 4 and the
final one. Distractions 1 and Vic 0. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">How many times do we let the distractions of life get in our
way of accomplishing what we want? It could be a dream, a chore or in my case,
a bike ride (exercise) but those minor distractions mount up to form what seems
to be an insurmountable wall and we just give up. It’s those distractions which
get in the way of our dreams. Too often our dreams sit up on the shelf because
we have allowed the distractions of life to get in the way and our fullest
potential is never achieved. It’s a conscience effort to move past those
distractions, those items in your way to achieve your success, whatever it may
be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">So tomorrow morning I will get up take my daughter to school
and begin brand new with a conscience effort of determination to reach my
success. I've already started, I put air in the tires of my bike. That’s step
one.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-79307859358984869222014-04-14T11:21:00.000-04:002014-04-14T11:21:43.825-04:00HAPPY BIRTHDAY<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">It’s April 13, 2014 and I sitting in the World Famous
Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge in Nashville, TN (Airport edition). In here there’s good
music, a packed house and something to eat. Hanging out with complete strangers
singing classic songs is a pretty good way to spend a 3 hour layover. I met a
cool young country singer trying make a living doing what he loves to do and
he’s good at it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">As much as I love town and a part of me is tempted to just
stay, I must get back to Orlando. You see, tomorrow is a very special day, it’s
my baby girl’s birthday. It isn't one big ones but that doesn't make it any
less special. She turns 15 tomorrow and has been counting it down since New
Year’s Day I believe. She thinks that is fun and for her I suppose it is. I
remember my birthdays back in the day, the anticipation of its arrival, the
excitement and the feeling of becoming older, so I get it. But it still doesn't
change the fact my baby girl is getting older and it hurt a little.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">This little girl growing up was my shadow, wanting to go
where I go and do what I did. She wanted to be fishing when I went fishing or
just sit next to me on the couch. Now days she is more interested in manicures
and boys than worms and fishing (although she will still go when asked – once a
redneck girl always a redneck girl). The times where she sits next to me
snuggled up on the couch is getting fewer and fewer as the days pass by. She
thinks it’s fun to watch <i>Say Yes to the
Dress</i> while to me it just means she’s growing up and already dreaming of
leaving me to begin a new life. But as a father it’s what I do. I raised her to
be strong, independent and bait her own hook when fishing. There’s still a tinge
of hurt with each birthday that passes. With
this one she gets her permit already in anticipation of the next one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">She spends hours in the bathroom doing make-up, her hair and
becoming a young woman. With each birthday the time draws nearer to when she
will gain the favor of a young man and leave. Gone will be the little girl who
scared me with blood streaming down her face from jumping on her sister’s bed.
The one who asked me to lay beside her and tell her bedtime stories. Next on
the agenda will be to teach her to drive and she wants to drive my truck, which
is such a big girl thing to do. Then before I know will be graduation, college
and well other events I am not looking forward to but I will always do the
Daddy thing, smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">On Monday, we will celebrate her birth. We will celebrate
her growing up. As for me, I will put on a brave Daddy smile masking the hurt
of losing my little girl to this young woman blowing out those candles.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-82441543794819815342014-04-04T17:06:00.000-04:002014-04-04T17:06:43.310-04:00YOU'RE MY HERO, CHARLIE BROWN<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Growing up one of my favorite cartoons were the <i>Peanuts</i>. It didn't matter whether it was
the holiday classics shown on the television or the daily strip in the
newspaper, I loved them and I still do. There was always a mis-adventure
involving Charlie Brown and his band of friends. The first “troubled child” we
knew about in America and we all still loved him, perhaps identifying with him
on some level. It didn't matter that he was always the losing pitcher on his
baseball team or missing that football every single time, we loved him. Even
when he had to see the psychiatrist at a nickel per visit, we never stopped
rooting for him. Never stopped being in his corner, cheering for him. Hoping
this time it would be different for him, but it never really seemed to work out
just right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Could it be the fault of those around him dragging or
holding him down? There’s the little sister who is not only more popular but
has a major crush on Charlie’s best friend, Linus. Oh Linus. Dragging his security
towel everywhere he went, he stood by Charlie Brown ready with advice. What
about Lucy, the nickel psychiatrist, who always seemed to belittle him with
insults? Peppermint Patty, who liked “Chuck” but was very domineering over him.
Of course we can’t forget about his beagle, Snoopy. A very talented dog who
also would outshine his owner. The list could go on, the Pigpen, the
accomplished pianist, the nerd and more. Not to mention never being able to
really understand what any adult had to say. Could any of this be the root of
his issues?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">We could go on further and discuss his athletic abilities,
or rather the lack of athletic abilities. He could never quote Charlie Sheen’s “Winning”
and mean it because poor ole Charlie Brown didn't know what it was like to be a
winner. He fell for the same football trick every time. Even when he knew
better and she promised him it would be different, it never was. He’d run
toward his goal, lift his leg to kick it and then Lucy would pull it away at the crucial moment leaving
poor ole Charlie Brown on his back wondering to himself, “Why did I fall for
that again?!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Through the years there is one thing I've noticed about him,
he never gave up. He never gave up on his friends. He never gave up on his
dream of pitching a winning game. He never gave up on kicking that football.
Most importantly though, Charlie Brown never gave up on Charlie Brown. With all
the hindrances in his life, who would blame him if he, in turn, blamed all
those obstacles for his lack of success? But he didn't. He always got up and
spent time with the same friends, feed the same dog and tried once more to kick
that ball. He suited up every Saturday, believing today could be the day I
pitch a winning game. He simply never gave up. His problems are not unlike ours
each day and yet he got out of bed each day. With all the rejection in his
life, Charlie Brown never gave up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Today, as you struggle with what to do or if it’s worth the
effort to chase your dream, remember that little <i>Peanuts</i> character and NEVER EVER GIVE UP, for today could be the day.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-11837872830908317902014-03-22T12:30:00.003-04:002014-03-22T12:30:44.512-04:00WORK SMART AT WORKING HARD<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">When I was a
kid I did what I could to not work hard or even work at all. When Mom would
tell me on a Saturday morning I had to go to the basement and sweep I would
remind her that the allergy doctor said I was allergic to household dust.
Therefore, in my mind, the logical thing to do was stay right where I was,
watching Saturday morning TV on our 19 inch television. Needless to say I had
to go work at cleaning my room. If I knew in time work was coming my way I hit
the woods before the list of chores was handed down. Perhaps every kid has this
aversion to work and why we always got mad at those “slave driving” parents of
ours. Although I hated it, I remember hearing, “Things worth having are worth
working for” and “If you have to work for it you will appreciate it more.” So
in my family, in my wheelhouse of experiences, hard work was a great practice
to exhibit. Through hard work you can get what you want and your needs are met.
However all the hard working people I knew were just as poor (lower middle class
sometimes) as we were. Happy, it seemed, but still poor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">As I grew
the phrase, “Work smart, not hard” resonated with me because, well first off I
hated hard work. But what appealed to me was it was being said by seemingly
rich people. CEOs, entertainers, and well to do business executives driving
nice cars living in big houses. That is what I want. I want the big house on
the lake or ocean. I want the new truck and car and boat and well you get the
picture. So I determined I need to develop my mind. Become smart and not have
to work hard. Plans were developed. Short term as well as long term goals were
listed. Books were read and sacrifices made all in the effort of working smart
and not hard. Riches had to be right around the corner, right? Nope, I still had
to budget. Watch my pennies (yes pennies not dollars). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Then it
dawned on me, phrases like those mentioned above aren’t just clichés, they have
stood the test of time for a reason. The reason is this, they go together. What
I have realized is you have to work both <i>smart</i>
and <i>hard</i> in order to achieve success
of any kind. When you look at the areas in the lives of successful people they
have been smart about the hard work they have done. They stay determined to
move forward and focused on what they want to achieve then work hard at it.
Plans are developed, relationships are made and meetings are strategically made
all in an effort to achieve their goals set. Intelligently working hard.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I think
working smart encompasses the idea of knowing when to punch the clock to go
home for the evening. As a comedian I always have an “eye open” looking for a
new joke premise and I would imagine successful business people are the same
way. In today’s world it seems 24/7 work week is the way to go in order to get
ahead then never enjoying it once you’re there. Worse yet, missing out on what
is all around you now. Such a heavy effort of “working smart not hard” may not
be that smart at all. We are not designed to work like that without sustaining
a long term negative effects. Our burn out often sets in, relationships suffer
or just end, and our bodies just wear out, even die prematurely. Working smart
means knowing when to take that break to go fishing or to the kids little
league game. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Let’s
promote a new phrase in our pursuit of success. Let’s all work smart at working
hard. In doing so our 24/7 lives will be balanced and we will be much happier.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1824134650901329850.post-48656674092851614972014-03-18T00:49:00.001-04:002014-03-18T00:49:45.428-04:00DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">They call it Daylight Savings Time. I will wake up in the
morning still tired wishing more sleep was in my future. While the Sun still waits
to make its appearance, I’ll be sitting in my truck waiting to take my daughter
to school. Sipping on a cup of hot, black coffee I begin my day. Feeling like I
have lost sleep, lost daylight and wishing I could lose consciousness for a
couple more hours, I get to work. The only saving grace is knowing the days
seem to be longer so I have more daylight to accomplish what needs done. More
daylight to see the next rung I need to take for this ladder of success. Then I
get to thinking it’s odd to have more daylight when we are supposed to be saving
it and what exactly are we saving it for?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Saving things is what we have done our whole lives it seems.
When I was a kid I save Elvis clippings, baseball cards and a peculiar looking
rock or two. As I grew I was told I need to save money for a rainy day, in case
an emergency pops up you need to have it. I have a collection of toy race cars
that I have saved over the years because “one day they’ll be worth something.”
At least that is what I tell myself. I have a collection of John Wayne movies because,
well why not? Books, oh my goodness, you should see the books I have saved over
the years or even bought recently. Saving them to read and many of them to read
again. Fishing lures, poles, and many other “valuable” items surround me. I
have even save the first coffee cup I had a drink of coffee in. It has a crack
in and leaks but I still have it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Saving stuff. Why do we do it? Why do we put things up on a
shelf or have keepsakes near us? The nearest I can figure it is, we save
because it is important to us. Or the reason we are saving is worthy of the
sacrifice. We sacrifice time, money, space and a variety of other interests
just to save for what interests us the most. However, I was never good at
saving except for what I wanted the most. Some even find that difficult even
painful as they try. Ask any kid with a dollar in their pocket, they’ll tell
you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Daylight though, how do you save daylight? I have heard the
expression, “Let’s get a movin’ we’re burning daylight.” But never, “Hey there,
let’s be careful to save some daylight.” Who exactly are we saving it for
anyway? I am not sure if we are really saving it as much as we are just moving
it around so our evenings are longer and we feel like we have accomplished more
with our daylight. Whatever it is, saving it or just moving it, I don’t plan on
wasting any of it. I am saving too many “important” things up on a shelf afraid
they will lose their value if I put them into use. But not my day. Not anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">I choose from henceforth to no longer save my daylight but
rather I will spend it, use it and above all else enjoy it.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Vichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18107837903891103112noreply@blogger.com0