You, the Movie
Issue #2339
- WEALTHY: Is an "Old Maid" in your future? (Andrew Gordon)
- HEALTHY: Get more antioxidants by cooking this way (Kelley Herring)
- WISE: Robert McAfee Brown on storytelling
ALSO IN THIS ISSUE:
- Your life story in 3 sentences (John Carlton)
- Was I out of line? (Michael Masterson)
- It’s Good to Know… about disappearing languages
- Add the expression "small beer" to your vocabulary
Bring Paradise Into Your Living Room (And Profits Too!)
It’s too bad you couldn’t make it to our Profits in Paradise conference, but the good news is that we’ve gotten it all down on professionally-recorded DVDs. When you bring these recordings into your home, you’ll be in the company of a very special group of experts.
First, they are all at the very top of their respective fields… whether it’s real estate, internet business-building, or under-the-radar financial and investing techniques. And second, they’ve all made a lot of money using the exact strategies they are going to teach you in their presentations.
Their “secrets” are actually proven methods based on years of trial and error and testing in the real world.
Here’s just a taste of what you’ll be receiving on these DVDs…
- Howie Jacobson will reveal the secrets behind Google Ad Words - the fastest and easiest way to make money online…
- You’ll learn how to use Marko Rubel’s little-known investment approach to generate over $1 million a year …
- Buck Rizvi and Brock Felt will show you how to tap into a multi-billion dollar market to create a business you can sell for millions … or pass on to your children…
- And much MUCH more.
When you learn these secrets you’ll be well positioned to take your financial future into your own hands.
Are you ready to see your wealth-building potential soar?
Good! Because we have an enviable offer for you today…
The Attack of the "Old Maids"
Do you remember the card game "Old Maid?" I remember playing it with both my kids many years ago. They loved it. They hated being stuck with that odd queen at the end of the game. Now they’re young adults and have moved on. But I’m still playing the game.
I have no choice. Dozens, if not hundreds, of companies are pretending they’re not holding the Old Maid. In other words, they’re hiding the full extent of their bad debt, assets, and hedges.
The practice is worse than ever - thanks to the spread of the subprime contagion. It’s shown up in surprising places like municipal bonds and Chinese banks. Right now, companies harboring Old Maids are a dime a dozen. I fear that soon they’ll be worth a nickel.
If you don’t want to get stuck with a loser, how do you invest?
- It’s more important than ever to do your homework. That means going beyond relying on a company’s statements. Just a couple of days before Bear Stearns was rescued by JPMorgan, they swore their finances were fine. Meanwhile, plenty of people who follow Bear Stearns thought otherwise… and were making their suspicions known in blogs and the financial press. Not every rumor is true, but neither should you summarily dismiss them. Keep an open mind.
- Stick with high-quality investments in sectors you trust. There’s too much we still don’t know about banks and their exposure to bad debt - so stay away. Big companies with solid track records, substantial overseas business, and low debt may not make you a bundle. But, these days, it pays to play it extra safe.
[Ed. Note: ETR's Investment Director, Andrew Gordon, is the editor of INCOME, a monthly financial advisory service that uncovers income-generating stocks that promise safety (first and foremost), along with much-higher-than-average profit potential.]
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"Storytelling is the most powerful way to put ideas into the world today."
Robert McAfee Brown
You, the Movie
By John Carlton
Have you ever wondered where the knack for finding stories and hooks — the main ingredients of any great copywriter’s bag of tricks — comes from?
Here is my insight (after a couple of decades on the advertising front lines): It comes from observing life as an ongoing movie. With characters, story angles, plot twists, and endings that arrive like punch lines.
This is how the legendary copywriters I’ve known go through their day… seeing nearly everything in terms of a movie script. It’s an unconscious habit, and wickedly effective at keeping your writing chops chugging on all cylinders.
Even the most mundane errand can be retold as a raucous tale full of shocking revelation when you put this talent to work. Nothing interesting or weird or funny gets by a top scribe.
So, when faced with clients needing killer ads… it’s easy to find, and flesh out, the stories hidden in products, campaigns, and markets. Because it’s all a movie.
Think about your own life.
No, seriously. Think about it.
Most people have trouble "seeing" themselves in the world at all. Without a mirror, they’re not even sure they exist. Their daily experiences are like watching a "monkey cam" - the filmed result of attaching a camera to the back of a chimp and letting him wander off.
It’s not a smooth, thought-out, coherent narrative. Instead, it’s jerky, chaotic, and (unless there are "happy accidents") mostly boring.
There. I’ve said it.
Most people lead boring lives.
For any savvy copywriter, that’s a tremendous advantage. All you have to do… is be the one thing your bored-to-death prospect reads today that gets his blood moving. And you’re well on your way to closing the sale.
Again, think about your life.
Consider how it has progressed in actual chapters, or acts… just like a long-running serial flick.
Maybe your story is as straightforward as childhood, adulthood, starting a biz, getting married.
Or maybe it’s more nuanced, in peculiar ways that make sense to you… but may sound exotic to outsiders. I know one guy, for example, who catalogs his past using whichever car was in his life at the time: The ancient ‘55 Buick Special (junior year in high school), the only slightly abused ‘67 Mustang (freshman year of college), the brand-spanking-new Toyota (first full-time job), the Pontiac mini-van (first kid), etc.
This guy will fry your ear with great stories, too. All starring him and his wheels.
The more precise and anchored you can be, the better your stories will become.
And the better your OWN parcel of stories is, the easier you can spot - and use - stories from the world around you when you’re writing to influence and persuade.
I was lucky to grow up in a family of storytellers. And since I was the youngest by eight years, I learned quickly to be pithy and interesting… or risk losing the attention of my audience. (Few adults have much patience for meandering stories with no point, even from their own kids.)
The trick is to focus on short, crisp, rollicking tales that get to the payoff quickly. With a beginning, a middle, and an end. Or, like a good joke, with a premise, a set-up, and a punch line.
In fact, I suggest you start crafting your tales - both the personal and professional - in three brisk sentences.
They can be serious or funny or rueful or just hmmm -inducing snippets of action.
But they must be complete stories.
So start editing, with an audience in mind. For example: "Suzy and I, at 17, started out convinced no one had ever felt a love so wild and crazy before. However, that dizzy high of shared hormonal bliss… was cruelly followed by heartache and misery when her attention shifted away from me. And I ended up as a sad, sad boy, convinced no one had ever felt such pain before."
Set-up, plot synopsis, and tidy ending with a hook (the "completed circle" of the phrase convinced no one had ever felt...). You can go into more specifics (should your audience crave it), but you’ve laid out the story very efficiently here.
If the point you were trying to make… say, in a sales piece… was that you’ve been around the block emotionally, you scored. Any further detail would muddy up the yarn.
Here’s another one: "I interviewed for my first real job right out of college. Cinched up my tie, answered every jackass question seriously, shook hands like a candidate. Got the gig, hated every second of my life for six months, never quite caught my breath, got fired, and happily collected unemployment checks for the next three months."
Or, here’s a tidbit from my own biography: "We were vandals as kids, mostly ineffective and innocent, but occasionally stunning models of anarchy. Asked an engineer, once, how many railroad ties his cow-catcher could handle… and the next day, put all those plus one on the tracks. Derailed the train… and our genuine horror of success was deepened by the realization we’d better watch our butts if we were gonna engage with the adult world like that."
Three sentences. Yeah, long ones. But three coherent, grammatically correct sentences. A complete story, with entry point, action, and a quasi-moral ending.
Consider how looooooooooooong I could have dragged out that tale, and been absolutely justified in doing so. Because, hey, events took place over a couple of days, and there are details of our gang and the neighborhood and the derailment that are fascinating.
Just freaking fascinating.
But longer stories should be told only if you’re invited to tell them. As in, writing your thousand-page biography and selling it. Anyone buys, it’s a tacit agreement to put up with every long-winded saga you’ve got up your sleeve.
Okay… now it’s your turn.
Leave a three-sentence story from your life in the new "comments" section on ETR’s website here.
Don’t be shy. We’re all trying new stuff this year. (Or should be, because the business landscape is changing so dramatically and rapidly. The best marketers I know are trashing old limitations, stretching new boundaries, waking up and engaging the world on fresh terms.)
I promise to read every submission. I’ll even toss a few comments into the pile myself, when warranted.
And I can guarantee you this innocent little exercise will sharpen your chops as a storyteller. Some of you are already damn good, I’m sure… while others can use a lot of work. But we ALL need to remember how critical stories are for communication. (As in, communicating your sales message in a way that grabs attention, persuades, and closes.)
C’mon. Three lines. That forces you to be concise, to consider every single word carefully, and to crunch often-rambling experiences into tidy little narratives with a point.
Just like a top writer does it.
I’m not looking for funny. Not looking for tears. Not looking for anything profound.
Just a story.
For some writers, this will be a true test, because you aren’t used to pushing yourself. However, the best already do.
Good luck.
[Ed. Note: John Carlton is an expert copywriter, a pioneer in online marketing, and a teacher of killer sales copy. Get the details here on how to get your hands on the kick-ass secrets of the world's smartest, happiest, and wealthiest marketers. And be sure to read his insights, tactics, and advice on copywriting and marketing at his blog.]
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Imagine Knowing of a Casino Where the Dealer Tipped His Hand Before You Made Your Move and Didn’t Care How Many Times You Beat Him.
When would you stop going there?
This is nothing to do with games of chance, but I hope your answer to that question would be a resounding, "NEVER!!" Assuming you’re sane that is… Well, that is a virtually PERFECT analogy of the power of the insider signal!
It’s often said, "The Stock Market is just a big casino." And it’s true. But the important omission in that statement (to keep the masses out!) is the dealer in this casino tips his hand to the select few… the insiders.
Such powerful knowledge could make YOU very rich indeed… Click to learn more…
Reader Appalled by My Self-Absorption
In a recent article, I revealed the early-morning routine I’ve used to accomplish my goals. Sonja Mahs from Brisbane, Queensland, Australia wrote in, wondering where family responsibility fits into the mix:
"Read your article about what you do during the day. Sounds great, if a little self-absorbed. Where does family responsibility come in? And who cooks dinner for you? I wish you would make it more transparent that you don’t have children in your care or that, if you do, you don’t have them on your priority list. It’s irritating to keep reading about how much you achieve and, by extension, how much we can all achieve if we did what you did… while ignoring your own privilege of gender and access to resources. I think it also diminishes your message somewhat."
Sonja is right. I should have pointed out that K and I are empty-nesters now. Longtime readers of ETR and my blog know this. I talk about it all the time. But a new reader could not have known.
That said, it is entirely possible to get up earlier and spend time on yourself - on your own goals - even if you do have children and a spouse. (I assume Sonja is a working mom.)
Assuming you get up at 6:00 now, is it impossible to get up at 5:30? The simple way to do that without jeopardizing your health is to get to bed a half-hour earlier.
This ties into a question I received from Tanya Leehans in Tennessee:
"I am wondering what time you get to sleep each night in order to be up and going no later than 6:30 a.m. After dinner, baths, clean-up, and putting three kids to bed, I want to spend some alone time with my husband. That means midnight sleep at the earliest. Getting up at 6:30 a.m. would mean an awfully small amount of sleep each night. What are your thoughts on that? How do you get enough sleep and make it all work?"
My thought is that if your kids are young enough to need help in the morning, they should be in bed no later than 9:00. That was bedtime for kids in the Masterson house. And it left K and me with 90 minutes to ourselves before going to sleep at 10:30. Seven hours of sleep is what experts say is optimal for adults. So getting up at 5:30 wasn’t a problem. I kept that schedule for many years when my kids were still at home and I liked it. You could like it too.
Listen - getting up early and devoting time to yourself is about you, not me. I can understand why Sonja’s initial reaction to my message was "that self-absorbed, insensitive son of a bitch." But she should think about it some more. What’s really going on? Why is she allowing herself to accept less of her life than she can have? Wouldn’t it benefit her to get that extra time to achieve her dreams?
If she wants it, she can have it.
[Ed. Note: You CAN find time to accomplish your longest-held goals. Learn dozens of specific strategies for rearranging your day and putting your top priorities first with ETR's Total Success Achievement program. Get the details here.]
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Add Steam, Boost Antioxidants
Some cooking methods can release disease-causing toxins called AGEs (advanced glycation end products). And other methods can maximize the antioxidant ability of certain foods, unleashing their anti-aging potential.
A recent study published in the American Journal of Clinical Nutrition evaluated the antioxidant content of foods after they were prepared in several different ways. Based on the results of that study, here’s how to get far more free-radical fighting ability out of some of your favorites than they have when they’re raw:
- Carrots : Steaming boosts antioxidants by 291%; boiling by 129-159%.
- Asparagus : Steaming boosts antioxidants by 205%.
- Broccoli : Steaming boosts antioxidants by 122-654%.
- Green Cabbage : Steaming boosts antioxidants by 448%.
- Red Cabbage : Steaming boosts antioxidants by 270%.
- Green Pepper : Steaming boosts antioxidants by 467%.
- Red Pepper : Steaming boosts antioxidants by 180%.
- Tomatoes: Steaming boosts antioxidants by 112-164%.
- Spinach: Boiling boosts antioxidants by 84-114%.
- Sweet Potatoes : Steaming boosts antioxidants by 413%.
[Ed. Note: Kelley Herring is founder and CEO of Healing Gourmet (www.healinggourmet.com). Simple choices - like how you cook your food - can make all the difference in the world when it comes to your health. Get more easy-to-follow suggestions for improving your health by signing up for ETR's free natural health e-letter. Learn more here.]
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It’s Good to Know: Disappearing Languages
At least one of the world’s estimated 6,000 languages goes extinct every two weeks. Native speakers either die off or assimilate into larger cultures over several generations. Most of the disappearing languages are spoken by very few (in some cases, just one person) - usually tribal people who are moving into the modern world. Extinction hotspots include the Pacific Northwest, Oklahoma (home of the highest density of indigenous languages in the U.S.), several parts of South America, northern Australia, and eastern Siberia.
(Source: National Geographic)
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The Greatest Medical Discovery of the Century
Scientists have discovered a remarkable substance that has the power to prevent diabetes, stop heart disease before it starts, and kill cancer cells on contact. In fact, this substance has been shown to prevent and treat more than 20 major diseases in all!
However, more than 85% of the population is deficient in this disease-killer at least part of the year. And believe it or not, medical professionals and health authorities actually advise people to avoid the single greatest source of this vital substance.
Click here to learn why you probably haven’t heard about this revolutionary discovery.
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Word to the Wise: Small Beer
The expression "small beer" - derived from a name for beer with very little alcohol content - refers to something that’s insignificant.
Example (as used by Jerry Coyne in The New York Times): "Call me a geek, but for biologists, marvels like the parasitic flatworm are on tap every day, making the reveries of Hollywood seem like small beer."
Copyright ETR, LLC, 2008
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Black Roses
Last night I dreamed of black roses
With blood dripping red from their thorns
And the sky was a strange kind of crimson
That never did change with the dawn
And I stood there and stared at an eagle
It’s yellow eyes stared back at me
It was caught up in flight and soon gone from my sight
And I wished that eagle were me
Last night I dreamed I was flying
And my wings took me out into space
As the stars drifted by me I wondered
Why no breath of wind kissed my face
It was dark it was cold there and empty
Each glimmer of light far away
And part of me wanted to run from that place
Another part wanted to stay
Last night I dreamed I was aching
For somebody warm in my bed
Just someone to hold me, but nobody told me
That I’d wake up lonely instead
And I cried for the sand and the sound of the sea
For the softly whispering foam
And I do confess it’s a mystery to me
Why I can’t seem to find my way home
Words and music by Jesse Leigh Brackstone
Copyright 2008 - Hobo Mountain Music
Okay, so it’s a little more than three sentences, it’s three verses, but I felt led to share them here and so I did.
Have a spectacular day and may God be with you - Jesse.
Love spending quiet Sunday afternoons with a good football game. Quiet, that is, until the phone rings: “Hi MIke it’s Joe. You said you wanted to contribute more to the magazine; how do you feel about being the editor?”
Ecstasty was,the first ride on my new bike with my girl,a heady combination.Euphoria higher tha a pack-full of reefers filled with prime Kerala Chilavathi.You could have asked me for my soul and i would have happily parted with it.Memories like that can really make you maudlin.
And so it happened. I fell in love head over heals, and since my daughters were grown-ups already, and only occasionally found their way home in between trips to Spain, Ireland, Turkey, Japan and god knows, where else, I decided to take my chance. I moved out and left our house to the young people, and drove towards a future I knew nothing about apart from, that it maybe would bring me love and happiness.
The complaint came in, there was a fatal out break of flesh eating strep in the nursing home and it was my job to investigate and hold people responsible if they screwed up. Boy did they screw up, they made every infection control mistake in the book causing three old people their lives and the lucky to suffer racking cough, hellish fever and excruciating pain. At the end of the day, the facility was severly sanctioned, the nurses were left with a new arsenal to fight that deadly bug, and I walked out the door with a feeling of pride and mission accomplished.
It seemed an enough obvious enough solution. Tired of the rain and spiraling house prices we decided to leave England for a new life in Spain. But five years, two kids and one-crumbling house later we were having second thoughts.
I was born in the same Massachusetts river town as Jack Kerouac and left it to go on the road as a stand up comic.
The worst comedy “audience” I ever encountered was 8 cold-staring veterans drinking warm Pabst at a VFW hall in St. Petersburg, FL - the last place Kerouac lived.
So, like Jack Kerouac, I was born in Lowell and have died in St. Pete.
We hadn’t planned on adopting any more kids after we were married. But when we received a knock at the door to take care of a three week old infant who was the possible victim of abuse, we could not say no. Little did we know that it would be the beginning of a new life that would add three more children, making 8 kids total, to a family approaching an empty nest.
I became a mother late in my late 30’s only to find that because of my pregnancy, I would no longer be employed at the hands of my employer. I suffered greatly because of this life altering event thrust upon me. Out of this new life direction, I ultimately created a product invention and I am in the process of selling my product to a major hospital.
Throughout the first 33 years of my life I played soccer, tennis, golf and basketball, went to college….a relatively normal life. On a vacation trip to Aruba I went to a local nightclub, and when the salsa music and dancers came out, my eyes and ears became entrenched in a new world. I realize now 5 years later after salsa dancing and conga lessons, that now I’m living the life that I was meant for.
After the devastation of my happy marriage and when barely employed and semi-homeless, I decided I wanted a child. I was soon blessed with the rock that has kept me stable for the last 15 years. As we plan for him to move on to college and the bigger world, I too look ahead to another phase of life.
I met him my senior year of high school and while most people thought we were too young ,(or at least I was as he was a couple of years older then me),we got married right after I graduated. Three months later we found we were pregnant with our first child, a daughter, then were blessed twice more with two boys over the next four years.
Yeah we were young getting married and very young parents but our children are all grown now and we are still young!
Three Sentences per today’s ETR:
In 1995 I was attending medical school at the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis when I became addicted to crack cocaine. Surrounded by the best and brightest future physicians, none of whom could save me from myself, I realized that doctors can’t cure everything and, since I never liked the “uppity attitude” of those in the profession or the educators of medicine (I only went because people told me I couldn’t), I decided to do something different, but first I had to drag myself out of the gutter. I started working on a new profession - one I knew I could do because it worked from me - and helped me come out of despair and into a life of peace, contentment and LIVING - I had learned what I needed to save myself and now I can help others do the same.
Like many young girls I became afflicted with a serious medical condition that hit without warning when I turned 13… Chronic Uncontrollable Giggling. The most innocent occurrence would trip an attack in my best girlfriend and me… ice cream falling off a cone, a pencil point breaking suddenly, turning an ankle on a crack in the sidewalk… and the occasional unplanned hiccup or pig-snort would send the condition into crisis proportions. I suffered an unfortunate and embarrassing relapse at age 30 on a vacation in Italy with my cousin – when we starred in our own personal “production” of Airheads Abroad.
As a single female, I’ve gone on more than my share of blind dates. The most unforgettable one took place in England, where I was taken on a tour of the guy’s family’s windmill. The floors were literally covered with dead houseflies, and I’ll never forget the crunch of their bodies beneath my feet.
Nearly five years ago our family embarked upon a crusade to rescue Aussie underdogs from their cultural degeneracy, and the squalour that emerges from their unenlightened way of life. Profoundly, over our time living amongst these angels in disguise, we have come to realise that the impersonal, materialistic, imperialistic, modern western world is the cultural millieu in need of saving. We have been grown up to recognise that cultural pride is a most insidious, self-deceptive malady.
After 24 years working my way up the corporate ladder, I had a big title, a million in the bank and I was miserable. Eight years later I’m doing something I love, and I’m broke. But I spend time with family just about every day, and I’m figuring out how to make money again…at least I think I am.
It had been 20 years since I last did a Triathlon, could my 42 year old body still respond? I enrolled in the race with trepidation, no turning back now. What I found out over the next 8 months of preparation is that at any age, when you align both your mind and body you can do just about anything. Net result, I had a better time at 42 than at 22.
Yearning for a baby, far too much time and emotion was spent at infertility clinics having daily hormone injections, blood tests, and drinking gallons of water for ultra sound scans. Eventually, savings exhausted, and emotions worn ragged, my husband and I accepted our lives as they were, and finally began to simply enjoy each other as we had when first married. One year later our daughter, now a beautiful young woman of 19, was born.
It was just before Christmas, and my three small daughters did not know that the three part-time jobs keeping their newly-divorced mother away from them so many hours were not enough to pay for Christmas, and barely paid for the bag of potatoes dangling from my arm as I shuffled us all across the icy midnight sidewalk. As I grabbed for my slipping daughter, my potato bag broke open, sending the next week’s carefully planned dinners rolling down the hill and into the frozen, debris-filled gutter, and taking the last vestige of my self-confidence along with them. I sobbed big tears that slid freezing down my cheeks as I dug in the dark muck for every last potato, when it struck me like a bolt from Heaven, that if I could do this, I COULD DO ANYTHING, and indeed, thanks to the touchstone of that gutter epiphany, I have not only left poverty behind but reached a level of prosperity I had not envisioned, not even in my dreams.
After struggling against a lifetime of self-limiting beliefs and self-defeating behavior, I have finally made it a priority to say goodbye to bad investments, whether businesses, habits or relationships. I find no reason to hang onto, or allow these things or people to hang onto me to protract their needy, self-absorbing, desperate lives. I choose to ascend to the heights of those who have realized and accomplished their dreams by awakening my mind to the same prolific vision and victory of those who have gone before me.
As a young woman back in the seventies I bought into the dogma that in order to be healthy one had to give up eating meat. I was trying to be a practicing vegetarian (not wanting to admit that I generally felt like crap when I didn’t eat some meat) when I met and fell in love with my husband who is a fourth generation rancher. Now I sell grass fed beef!
“This is just like real grief,” I thought while sobbing over the loss of Rupert, the insecure, misunderstood mutt I had loved for 4 years. I was surprised by the tears that sprang to my eyes each time I saw his empty food dish the next day. It didn’t seem fair that I should feel the same depth of pain over a dog that I did when my grandmother died — my only solace was that it faded more quickly.
He arrived from Germany and I showed up from West Virginia, surely God helped us as teens find each other in Georgia. Bringing two children to adulthood through 38 years of love, work, laughter and tears have added age lines to my face and some patched cracks to the foundation of marriage. My foundation, both with God and my husband, is stronger for the trials and the age lines say I have lived, so looking forward to showing the “kids” how you are suppose to enjoy the senior years.
When most kids were off playing with their toys or watching TV, who would have ever expected young Billy to be starting life as an 8 year old entrepreneur? Lemonaid stands, yard sales, paper routes, and even door-to-door Christmas tree sales was how I chose to invest my youth. Is it any wonder that today young Billy has turned those years of experience into a massive resource for other entrepreneurs to learn from and grow their business - by going to http://www.billcovert.com ?
Left my masterpiece here this morning, clicked Submit Comment, got Error Message: Sorry, there was an error. Please enable JavaScript and Cookies in your browser and try again.
Story of my life, somehow.
It’s never lived up to the promise of that sultry afternoon in Athens in the summer of ‘62 when the gods smiled on me.
Three sentances!!!
I have become an internet marketer this past year.
Now evrything I read screams out to me, “You’ve got to read and incorperate this info into your business.” Copywriting, web design, bloging, social networking, and on and on, it all consumes my waking hours!
HELP!!!!
On the verge of turning 41, I had what my wife and close friends refer to as the most pathetic mid-life crisis ever: I signed up to take surfing lessons at Disney! Thanks in no small part to Orlando’s lack of proximity to the ocean – it’s about 90 miles away – the lessons are held in the giant wave pool at the Typhoon Lagoon water park; how cool is that? On the big day I paddled out, mounted my board, stood halfway up… and promptly had my first of many wipe outs.
It smelled like gas and fresh cut grass, which made me think of Dad. Looking up from the charred bits of old leaves in the mower’s carburetor, the phone rang. When I hung up the receiver, my hands were shaking from the news that would change my circumstances forever.
I thought I knew how to write and tell a story. I would write long… tediously long, stories that had no point and far too many details. Then I read the article by John Carlton, and found the secret to really telling a compelling story.
Not 3 sentences. A question about Kelley Herring’s article on cooking methods.
Are the figures given relative to eating the foods raw or reltive to some other cooking method? If some other cooking method, which one(s)?
I found the lump in my breast and ignored it for a few months, hoping it would just go away; but when the whole breast swelled up and turned red, I knew I had to go see my doctor. The diagnosis turned out to be a “worst case scenario”: metastatic inflammatory breast cancer – the kind of breast cancer where you’re expected to be dead within a year. But fast forward to now, a year and a half later, and with the help of chemotherapy, a clinical trial of the new cancer drug called Avastin, three surgeries, a traditional Chinese Medicine regimen from a trip to a famous Beijing pharmacy last November, a vegan diet, lots of daily exercise, regular doses of sunshine, and tons of prayers, and here I am – in remission and ready to take on the world like never before.
I had a new outfit, new earrings, and my game face on. “What do you think of gays in the military” became the first attempt at conversation on a first attempt at a date with a man who had surprisingly dirty fingernails. Shortly thereafter, I excused myself, went out the back door of TGIFridays, and had a successful first attempt at flagging down a cab.
The single black eye of the television camera stared menacingly at me as I slid into my first anchor chair, 30 seconds late, with CBS Morning News already in black, waiting for me. Thousands at home noticed the silence, as did I, so that when I appeared in their sets, they watched someone having an apparent heart attack live on TV, gasping for air. Memo to self: never rewrite the least important story and NEVER run from the newsroom to the studio.
“Let’s race up the hill!” my older sister issued the challenge. “I don’t know, Kathy,” I said, “look at all the yellow-jackets swarming around that tree…what if they sting us?” “Oh, c’mon scaredy-cat” …so we ran…and the swarm turned and chased us …up the hill and down we ran screaming bloody murder as they mercilessly stung us…tangled in our hair, stinging our heads, our necks, our arms, our legs…hours later after Mom had tended our throbbing welts and dried our tears, Kathy put her arm around my shoulder and whispered, “I’m sorry …I love you…and you’re not a scaredy-cat.”
I grew up three blocks from the riots that burned in my city in sympathy with Watts and the nation. That same summer was the first time I had a gun pointed at me, seriously pointed at me, because of my color. But mine was a neighborhood I loved for its raw humanity, its living pulse–and what I learned there, and wouldn’t have traded for anything else.
A few years ago I bought several boxes of books at a yard sale in south Florida. Opening one of them, I discovered on top a thickly padded envelope containing a 30+ year old journal kept by a marijuana farmer. Ebay quickly came to my whorish mind.
It was the 1970’s and all the “cool” guys I knew had a fast car… so I took my last, hard-earned, three thousand dollars and bought a Chevelle, which I let no one else drive. After much begging, my best friend and running buddy finally got me to let him take over the wheel and before I knew it we were spinning wildly out of control because he “lost it.” Of course, the friendship promptly ended when he left me as the sole person reseeding the neighbor’s front yard he tore up in the process.
I was an average athlete at best in high school, just good enough to start, but not quite good enough to be the star. After a stint in the Army, which helped keep me in decent shape, the complacency of modern day life paired with my unwillingness to push away from the “all you can eat” buffet meant I got fat… actually real fat. However at age 41 I have the last laugh - and routinely blow away competitors two decades my junior at just about any sport you can imagine.
JFK was president, I was 7 years old and diagnosed with a malady named diabetes, of which my family had never even heard of. Over the next 38 years, paramedic calls for hypoglycaemic episodes at 2:30 a.m. were not uncommon, eventually making kidney dialysis a necessity. Thanks to the wonderful organ donor program in Wisconsin and the gifted transplant team at Froedert Memorial Hospital, on October 23, 1998, 38 years of severe health problems were miraculously culminated.
The Vision Makes the Woman
Living through the agony of divorce, I was determined never to be that vulnerable again. That’s when the quest began in sales, marketing,and copywriting so get out of my way I will master it! Many failures and some fantastic successes later I have become what was only a mere dream years ago.
“That’s it, I’ve had it,” I said to myself after my wife rejected me, yet again, in my attempt at intimacy. The walls went up, the talking ceased, and my 40-day fast of “you-ain’t-gettin’-no-love-from-me” began.
As she went about her day minding her business and doing all those little things she does - you know, the things that say “I care,” - I realized kindness has a way of falling over, under, and through all these man-made walls of stone. I only lasted a day.
I had not paid much attention to her until another guy started hanging around her. Then a group of us went out to lunch, and I sat close enough to ask her, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” When she answered, “A Mommy” I knew my days were numbered.
I just got retired. Looking back I can’t fathom how in the world I was able to survive the 9-10 hours daily job in a Federal agency after 26 years!
Ahhh, retirement..there’s nothing like it; just wished I have another extra 24 hours in a day to do what I want to do including doing nothing.
When Mr. M first described his plans to take his small carpet cleaning company public, it seemed like a pipedream…but I agreed to help. Sure enough, the money began rolling in and the stock price tripled, so who was I to refuse the magic carpet ride? But when the press, the SEC and the FBI pulled the rug out from under us, well, let’s just say that the lessons learned about market hype and crowd psychology still serve me well 20 years later.
When I was 16 I got my one shot at the big time, the dream life, and I fled from it … because of an old man’s fetid breath. I was a not-so-great ballet student away from home for the first time, and I caught the eye of the school’s artist-in-residence, an ancient choreographer whose name had once meant dance. He wanted me to go with him, to Italy, to be his assistant! — me, with the man who gave wings to Nijinksi, to Pavlova! –but … his mouth stank of raw onions, and those onions crushed the life that might have been.
I got married at age 18 and am blessed with two great kids.I had a heart attack in ‘07 at age 40,receiving two stents in my LAD and am not finished living yet.The construction co. I worked for is closing the doors,so I am starting to work in ecommerce in hopes to gain financial security and treat my wife of 23 years to a life without having to get up at 5:00 am to go to work and a great vacation.
The world’s biggest water weinie, Mrs. don’t get my hair wet, why swim with your face under water? Then 40 rolls along & I wonder, was the best already here & gone - is it all down hill from here? Hell no - she water skis at 41 & scuba dives at 42 - you go girl!
The green grass at the park looked welcoming. As soon as I opened my car’s door,the cigarette scented air,turned hostile. I knew I had to leave.
Our English assignment was to write a story and read it in front of the class. Levi 505 button-down jeans were in vogue and just before class I visited the restroom urinal. I was quite proud of my comical story and there was laughter aplenty when I read it, though at odd places, the reason for which I found out on the way back to my seat when I looked down to see the tail of my white shirt sticking out through the button gaps of my fly.
After high school I couldn’t wait to get out of this small Midwest town, I joined Navy, and retired 21 years later. Toward the end of that time I landed back home as a recruiter, my greatest joy came from helping young men and women prepare for their coming years as sailors. Since retiring, I’ve been on a lifelong journey to increase my knowledge and abilities to help other people succeed, that’s the only way that I can see myself as being successful.
I was in love and committed for life to a woman who did not want any more children and I, having two children from a previous marriage, got a vasectomy. After learning that therapy is a great tool for dealing with why relationships end, I fell in love with a woman who wanted at least four children. I chose to have my vasectomy reversed and now am a happy, proud father of six more children, proving, once again, that whatever a woman wants…she gets.
Finding out that some people can be just plain evil came to me late in life – I was over 50 at the time. The turning point event threatened my very livelihood and cost me dearly in time, money and especially emotional distress. Even so I decided that in addition to being more careful about those I worked with from then on, I would still approach people by seeing them as being basically good – but always with a watchful eye for indications otherwise…
I spent a week preparing to see this women - what I would wear, how I would act, what questions she might ask, what answers I would give…there was nothing that would trip me up. Alas from beginning to end I was there on the chair, in front of her, sobbing with blurred vision as the tears left my eyes in chains. At first it was due to the realisation that all I recounted to her had happened to me, that it was actually quite sad and ofcourse, the obvious cause of the depression (despite my refusal to admit), but later as I realised that the counsellor couldnt help me at all my tears became joyful knowing they could be helped by the one person whom i know already, can trust already and who has helped me up and out of this clinical madness once before already…myself.
I have always considered myself to be a bit of a non-conformist, and someone who is willing to step outside the comfort zone. I used to attend my young son’s hockey games, sitting in the stands with other hockey parents, screaming as the play progressed, and generally getting way too excited and stressed out - so I became a hockey referee. I couldn’t skate very well (so I referred young boys), but I aced the certification exam (highest mark in a class of 27 men and me), and found that refereeing was really good for both my physical and mental health.
YOU, THE MOVIE~
We are all born with certain traits embedded in our DNA, being Native American I have the migrating gene. Consequently, every year or two when I’d no sooner start feeling the urge and thoughts of where and when would start dominating my mind an opportunity would present itself to pack up and move away. Some who don’t know me well have said I’m running away from something, yet I can’t help but acknowledge that whatever I thought about came to me in my life’s adventures and when focused, upon revelation, in business as well. Hold it in your mind-hold it in your hand.
You, The Movie
Do you think 14 years is too long for a courtship? My wife and I met while we were waiting tables and then lived together (off and on) for 14 years before we finally figured out that we were meant for each other. By the time we got married, we had worked through all of the crap and were absolutely best friends on every level.
When they first rushed me into the emergency room twenty years ago, lightheaded and coughing up a stream of blood, I figured, “So this is an ulcer.” A short time later, I was about to reveal my self-diagnosis to the doctor when he interrupted, “Mr. Barry, . . . I’m afraid you have leukemia.” Then my loving young wife asked the doctor, “Well what’s going to happen to me?”
I, an American, went to India to marry my bride,
Arriving on November 28th I had to decide
Just when to tie the knot.
Easy, I thought,
December 30th since I could claim 2 dependants.
With the taxes saved we lived happily for a year in India.
Does success mean money only?
If one stops to analyze this, we find that money can buy mansions, shiny cars, gain respect and power but not happiness because the true essence of happiness is to love your Creator, yourself and every other human being on this planet.
Try it and be amazed!
Four years ago I found out prematurely that my older daughter, then 18, was prematurely pregnant!
I couldn’t care less for the fact that she was pregnant (I’ve been very liberal in the subject of sex), but I liked very much the idea of being a grandfather.
Now, four years later, she is married, got her own apartment, her full time job, her handsome Cuban husband and after spending a full day with Christopher in the park I’m still in love with the idea of being a grandfather.
It was no whirlwind courtship. I fell in love with her while I was dating her best friend. After becoming the biggest jerk in her world by dumping her best friend, it took two years of persistence, salesmanship, and some divine intervention to persuade her to become my wife.
I walked out onto the porch getting my heel stuck under the door. A flying leap landing my 280# body entirely on my left arm resulted in a complete break with pieces sticking out. Since the break was too near my shoulder for a cast, I spent six months watching my skin rot under a plastic shield ending up with a fully functioning arm.
Just like dating and chasing my wife, we all grow up and learn most from sad experiences and failures. After quitting my first dream but busy job, I finally had the time to slow down and think about what I really want in my life. My current job not only grant me more satisfaction and happiness, but also the chance to spend more time with my family, to successfully profit from real estate investing, and become a finisher in a 113km triathlon.
While it wasn’t the coldest, snowiest winter we’d ever seen in Buffalo, assembling a garden wedding -my bride’s fantasy wedding -would prove a real challenge. Getting it to come together perfectly in just 8 days time would really test my mettle. Luckily I’d learned a certain secret, a success secret if you will, that gave me the audacity to know I would not fail at this task, or any other.
“Winning in Tennis - Leadership - Life” is an innovative, 12-week program developed locally to take kids beyond forehands and backhands. These kids have passion for tennis and their dreams. We show them how to realize both!
I love that God has a wonderful sense of humor. When I let go of “controlling” being a mom (after 10 failed IVF attempts and an adoption catastrophe), I announced to the family that we had resigned to give up having a baby. God introduced us to the surrogate of our 15-month old daughter 2 hours later. Have I mentioned that I have let go of the idea of winning a multi-million dollar lottery…?
I met her on one of those Internet dating sites. She was older and rounder than the picture in her profile. So when she attempted small talk by asking, “What do you think of gays in the military?” I saw my chance to end it and replied, “Oh, I’m sure they cover each others asses pretty well.”
After arriving home from an all to short visit to our 2 year old grandson who lived with his parents in a desert community nearly 900 miles away, my wife of 30 years looked straight at me and asked “Why are we HERE?” In that singular moment, a blinding flash of the obvious came over both of us…he is, after all, the only grandchild we would ever have and he was growing up way to quickly. Six months later, we walked away from our well paying careers, moved into our new house in the desert so we can play with our grandson, and never looked back…this is what life is really about.
I grew up in a catholic family and as a grade schooler,wanted to be a priest.Attended seminary,for freshman year of high school.Lasted five more weeks in sophmore year,opting out when I asked myself,” Where do my children fit into this scheme?”
I was going aimlessly through life, taking what was offered to me without much thought or effort. Then I found myself unfocused and without passion, lost on paths that were not my own. So if you wonder why I am writing full time, just know that I needed to live deliberately, and that I have not been this happy in a long time.
Life for me has been a series of stops and starts: events seemingly unrelated making sense somewhere down the line. On some journeys knowing when to change direction makes for a more exciting and fulfilling time. Actively participate or sit on the sidelines watching: we all have to make that decision.
After buying Stitch, our male zebra finch, a female friend, we soon had two more zebra finches. Although they weren’t suppose to mate until after the chicks were raised and I did everything I could to discourage it, we found new tiny eggs in the nest and then eventually in the bird seed when I removed the nest. Encouraged by these birds determination to be productive despite their less than favorable circumstances, I decided, with God’s help, to be as productive as I could be in mine.
Raised as a small town girl I couldn’t wait to get out to experience the theatre, the symphony, the culture of city living, I knew I must go and explore all life had to offer. As soon as I got a chance I was off on my own, an old green ltd packed to the roof, a couple hundred dollars and a desire to make my own way. Who could have predicted that I would have spent the next 20 years working to pay all those bills, never going to the symphony, or the theatre, and always longing for the wholesome simple things I left behind oh so long ago.
I bring my wife flowers nearly every Thurday. The day of our first date. Getting divorced twice is a disaster; not learning something from the experience would be a tragedy.
She is a vision and is as sweet as she is attractive, but she was dating someone and I had only a few encounters with her. After our most recent conversation I felt we made a connection but reminded myself she was still with another guy. As she walked a few paces ahead of him leaving the room she glanced back and me and I thought to myself there is still hope.
I joined a dance class it was October 1955, I was 16 and he was 19. On a miserable foggy day in October 1958 we were married with our friends and families wishing us a long,healthy happy life together. Outside the Court House in October 1999 I clutched the piece of paper that finally gave me my freedom.
I may not have been the spawn of the devil (although there are some who would argue that point), I am the spawn of a special breed of glass-half-empty champions who taught me just how hopeless and difficult life could be for an able-bodied, bright, enthusiastic, young girl. My parents generously bequeathed their psychological handicap which I proudly developed throughout my childhood until I’d perfected the art of viewing most of life’s opportunities as improbable at best, hazardous if I was lucky and potentially disastrous at worst. I carried this black cloud around with me for most of my adult life until somewhere in early middle age it occurred to me, that this had been their path, their history, and I was standing at the crossroads marked “condemned to repeat it.”
Thirty years and thirty pounds ago, I modeled Oscar de la Renta on the runway in New York.
Twenty years ago I worked for a design studio overlooking Vermont’s idyllic Lake Champlain.
But it’s only over the last ten years that I realized my most rewarding life goals - volunteering with my therapy dog, helping start a nonprofit, and now in North Carolina, making the leap of faith to write for a living, and not just as my passion.
Brian and I were 13 months apart in age, very close and cute kids. Our adult years consisted of many a wild time yet we managed to stay out of trouble and have fun, fun, fun. When he was diagnosed with Cancer and was admitted into the hospital, I packed for 5 days but didn’t return home to my husband and daughter until 3 months later.. after holding Brian’s hand until he took his last breath and took Jesus’ hand to go home.
We were in Washington DC with two excited 10-year-old girls, ready to change trains en route to the National Zoo. Our daughter, in her excitment, snatched her hand from her dad’s and, running ahead to catch the train, slipped through the doors, while we were still on the platform. In a controlled panic with prayers for her safety, we paced back and forth, impatiently waiting for the next train; and, in tears, reunited with our safe but shaken daughter at the next stop.
We were in Washington DC with two excited 10-year-old girls, ready to change trains en route to the National Zoo. Our daughter, in her excitment, snatched her hand from her dad’s and, running ahead to catch the train, slipped through the doors, while we were still on the platform. In a controlled panic with many prayers for protection, we paced the platform, impatiently waiting for the next train; and, in tears, reunited with our safe but shaken daughter at the next stop.
Sorry, I kept getting an error message … then it posted twice!
On a lounge chair on the topless beach in Negril white rum drink in hand. A wet topless twenty something emerges from the ocean water and stops, standing slightly over me, water dripping from her hair onto her breast onto me as I look up at her and she asks about when dinner is to be served at our hotel. My wife returns from a bathroom break.
Most people talk about it, dream about it or joke about it, but I actually did it. I ran away and joined the circus, found out very quickly that people in circuses are generally very odd, and one old man in particular, who was convinced I was a reincarnation of his long dead wife, only ever called me by her name and became over “protective”, much to my extreme annoyance.
So, pursued relentlessly by this man over almost the length of the Australian Continent, I managed to loose him, ran away and unjoined the circus.
I should have kept right on running that summer of ‘70. If I hadn’t stopped to talk to him, that rainbow and its pot of gold would still have been there waiting for me now. Instead, here I am, peering into the blackness of a tarnished crock, as I try to retrieve the person I used to be.
I was a young sailor when i found my girlfriend Toddie, she said she would be faithful as I travelled the world. I sent my faithful girl a gift, a cream colored dress that fit her beautiful curves that swirled my mind at sea. Later i got the best gift when i learned her baby didnt belong to me.
I was born. I was born again. I live for Christ!
A recent telephone interview finished with me wondering why he chose me to respond to, from the more than 1000 e-mails for the job posting. This was my closeing sentence in my letter of application as to why he should hire me;”. In the past 30 years I have learned a few things, like Alec Baldwin in Glengarry Glen Ross, I’m a closer, I’m called in to fix it.” I included a web link for the movie clip, and he was laughing all the time as we talked on the phone for 2 and a half minutes and he explained that the picture of the guy on the web site from his company, he fired him years ago.
‘Code black’,’ the loud speaker announced. ‘Please move to the center of the store.’ We hurriedly complied. Curious about the tornado, we snuck a peek in the direction of the door. 2 PM and the sky was dark as night. Children were crying, adults wide eyed with fear. In a few short minutes it was over. Whew, e made it through another one.
We didn’t get together until I stopped working there - it made us realise what we meant to each other. We had so much fun. Then he got sick.
I hitch hiked across America with my dog when I was 21. Met lots of strange peopele, saw how beautiful our country is and slept under the stars every night. Where’s the adventure now?
Growing up in suburban Long Island did not prepare me for the adventures that were awaiting when I joined the Navy and found myself in the Philippines at the end of Vietnam. My passion for travel had been kindled and living in Hawai’i was an excellent counter to globe trotting. Getting married, having two awesome sons, moving to the mainland to the awesome mountains of Utah, getting divorced, beating cancer and continuing to LIVESTRONG has redirected the adventure to where giving back to society is very important. Whew, packed it in to 3 sentences! : )
It was 4 am and I was a stupid, half drunk 19 year old girl, who decided that since daddy could not come and get me I’d walk.
I started walking, he blew the horn on his ‘72 short bed pickup, turned around,came back and picked me up.
I almost died that day, but I got away, and I’ll never forget the fear, the terror, not only mine but my parent’s as well when they saw the bloody, crazed person I was.
The plan was to spend predawn hours writing before the non-stop day with two young children sapped any creative energy. Quietly stealing into the kitchen for that wake-up cup of coffee, my heart fell at the sound of daughter’s cheerful voice heralding the day. A light sleeper with radar ears doesn’t bode well for early morning writing solitude… I took up running.
I married my soulmate 20 years ago, created two beautiful kids, built a home, a business and everything seemed easy and full of love and sunshine. Three years ago he died in an accident and left me alone, flailing on the rim of that black hole so deep the bottom isn’t even there. Today, “Who am a becoming now?” is a question I ask each morning with wonder and curiousity and gratefulness.
Lightning struck the computer I had scrimped and saved to buy, frying its innards and leaving me devastated. In my grief, I cried out, “Why Lord? I need this machine.” With the insurance check, I learned the new skill of computer repair and went on to a successful career making much more than I could have dreamed before, filled with happiness and gratitude for that fateful “accident”.
If, as an average non athletically gifted person of unremarkable strength, you have ever picked up the back end a 1954 Ford car, have ever run “flat out” through a strange forest on a moonless night without running into anything, or incurred some other mishap, then it’s easy to accept as fact, that we really don’t know our physical limitations. Additionally, having reoccurring dreams that just happen to come true and marring a woman that has premonitions about whether or not you should go somewhere or do something, because something is going to happen, compels you to realize that we truly don’t know the extent of our physical “or” our mental limitations. Therefor it’s easy to believe that it’s truly possible to do anything … “if”… you have the will and can only find the way.
When young, I shared the same goals everyone else had: couldn’t wait to become 13-16-18-21 yrs old, get a driver’s license, graduate from school, find a job, get married, buy a house, have children, help them grow into adults.
The adult kids now have their own lives; the jobs have come and gone with no one recalling who you were or what you did; you and your spouse are essentially roommates.
Am I alone in thinking, “Now what?”
New plans for the year. As one who believes in optimum fitness, to use marketing skills and enhance mind, body and spirit. The rewards are to live the life meant for use: fine clothes, adventerous travel and enjoying mouth-watering food. Life is for living and giving.
This makes a lot of sence to me…and your vegtables will be crisper and probably taste better too.
Personally, I don’t like my vegtables over cooked.
I used to par boil them…but now I will steam them.
The orientals sure have that mode of cooking over us! They have been steaming for thousands of years.
Southern smiles and world peace,
Sharon
~The Baby Boomer Queen~
BabyBoomerAdvisorClub.com
I dreamed as a child of all that was possible and had no doubt I could achieve it. Somewhere along the way I began to listen to those around me and doubt crept in and clouded that belief. My challenge now is to overcome the years of darkness and realize there is light if I want it to exist.
So here it is, I leap and steady myself like an eager child hurling along the stepping stones from careerless jobs to jobless careers.
Writing… I like to write but can it pay… I wondered about computer programming in the same way thirty years ago…where to start; how to begin; why am I thinking about starting over?
It sounds fun… a leap of faith or does inertia win again?
I was seventeen and insanely happy this cold, dark winter night. I had a snowmobile under my control and a gorgeous sixteen year old young woman hanging tight to my waist. Why I stopped as we were roaring along a trail I’ll never know, but if I hadn’t I’d never have seen my eighteenth birthday.
I often wonder why I agreed to do it again; work overseas that is. Was it the money, the travel, the exotic location and interesting people, or just the challenge of working in the jungle?
All I know is that I am having the time of my life.
Kevin - terrific 3 sentences. It’s obvious you’re a great copywriter.