IN YOUR CORNER

“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?

First it means Believing 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.

Secondly, is Encouragement during the fight itself. Remember watching the movie Rocky? 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.

Thirdly is Tending 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.

Finally, win or lose those in the corner are there to Support 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.

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.

THE GYPSY LIFE

On my jet with about 100 other folk

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.

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.

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.

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.

This Gypsy lifestyle Willie sings about, well, it the life for me.

RACE WEEKEND at the DAYTONA 500

Me waking up in the back of my truck on Race day

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.

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.

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.

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.

Thanks NASCAR and Daytona International Speedway for a great Sunday of fun.

AMERICA'S HEROES

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 Justice League 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.

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 America’s Heroes.

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.

It doesn't just stop with our military folks but America’s Heroes 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.

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 America’s Heroes. 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, America’s Heroes.

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 America’s Heroes.

If you see one today, tell them thank you.

DREAMS OF CHILDHOOD

Always the cowboy

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 Cowboy or Toby Keith’s I should have been a cowboy 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.

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.

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 American Idol and the Voice are safe.

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).

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.”

“LaLaLaLaLa, I can’t hear you.” 

LOOK TO THE BIRDS

Listening to the birds and watching the squirrels. Florida living. 

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.

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.

Jesus, himself, mentions this when discussing worry. He says, “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?” (Matthew 7:25-26 NASB). So they sing and play.

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.

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).

As I enter 2015 I will look at the birds and the squirrels. Perhaps you would like to join me.

Vic Clevenger presents The Christmas Message

GET YOUR HEAD IN THE CLOUDS

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

If you want it, then get your head in the clouds.

FROM THE DARKNESS COMES THE LIGHT OF CREATIVITY

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.

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.

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.

In the darkness there is quiet. 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).

The fear comes in the darkness when we lay there alone. 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.

The third reason we were more creative in the darkness was because we used our imagination. 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.

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.

HALLOWEEN: Have Fun, There's Nothing To Be Afraid Of

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Have fun…there’s nothing to be afraid of.

LIFE ON THE ROAD IS NO VACATION

My "Five Star" Hotel Room

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Life on the road is no vacation, but for me it’s a dream coming true.

I'M FLYING HIGH

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.

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.

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.

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.

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^th 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.

So today, at 30,000 feet, all I can say is, “Nice job Mr. Pilot. But if we were to fall from here…” 

I HATED SCHOOL

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.

As I get older, though, I realize what I missed by not being a student. To me it was a classification of what I was but it wasn’t who 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.

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.”

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.

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.

Hello. My name is Vic. I’m a student.

HAVE YOU MISSED ME?

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.

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.

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.

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.

HERE COMES THE DREAMER

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.

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.

Some are Not Going to Believe in You. 

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.

Some Will Try to Derail You. 

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.

Some will Seek to Contain You. 

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.

Some will Commit to You. 

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.

When you walk into a room and hear someone say, “Here comes the dreamer,” hold your head up and say, “Yes I am.”

MEMORIES

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.

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.”

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.

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.

Remember the Alamo.

This day will live in infamy.

Lest we forget, 9-11.

I HATE YARD WORK

My Name in Neon (chalk)

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.

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.

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. 

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.

Excuse me now while I go get my ladder and work in the yard. Man, I hate yard work.

THE INVISIBLE MAN

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

OUTLAWS ALWAYS TAKE THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED

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.

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.

Artists such as Waylon Jennings fight for what they believe in and for who they are at their core. His “Wanted: The Outlaws” 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.

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.

Robert Frost spoke of the outlaw (sort of) in his poem, The Road Less Traveled. 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.

On the heart of the Outlaw are the last words of Robert Frost’s poem, “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.” All the difference indeed.

THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED

-          Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

NASHVILLE: The Land of DREAMERS and DOERS.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?