The Intruder

 

It started out as a typical fall morning, sitting in traffic in route to a jobsite to check on the crew, doing building repairs, in a condo association our company managed.  My cell phone rang with a familiar number and as I answered; “good morning Christie”, the sound of a hysterical girl sobbing, gasping for breath and the inaudible sound of an explanation of why she called. 

Christie’s parents had purchased a condo in the association I which I was headed. They had hired me to do the remodel for their daughter’s condo while she attended the University. The remodel finished early and came in on budget and I could not imagine what had happened that would cause this young girl to be hysterical. 

I was only a couple miles away but the traffic couldn’t move fast enough, so I cut off 2 cars to make a fast right turn and then had to creep through a school zone as I listened to the sobs of Christie.  Clearing the school zone and speeding down the street to get to the emergency, I quickly was breaking for a car that was waiting for traffic to clear to make a left turn.  As I steered to the shoulder to pass on the right side of the car, the swampy shoulder tried to pull me deeper to the right, I hit the accelerator, causing the backend to swing hard to the right.  I let up steered back to the street and as the rear tire caught the pavement, slinging mud everywhere, I was now, just a mile away.

As I entered the complex, I was lucky as there wasn’t anyone walking along the street or vehicles to contend with.  I hit two speed bumps hard enough to rattle the fillings out of my teeth, passing my crew in a blur, I made a hard left turn to head straight to Christie’s condo.  There she stood, wearing a bathrobe, wet hair and tears streaming down her face.  The only thing she could do was point to the front door.  As I ran to the door, I had no idea of what I was about to be facing, I opened the door and saw nothing.  “In there”, as she pointed to the bathroom door, I opened the door and come face to face with her intruder.  He wasn’t that big and I could sense his fear as his black skin glistened.  As I stepped forward to grab him, he slid to my left to get away and I grabbed him and now he did the only thing he could do, he bit me just above my left elbow.  Just as this was happening, one of my carpenters pulled up to see what I was in such a hurry.  He stepped into the door just as the struggle started, which was also the same time Christie let out a scream and, leaping backwards, almost knocking the six foot two, two-hundred fifty pound carpenter off his feet. As he regained his balance, Christie ran behind him vibrating up and down and crying uncontrollably. As I stepped towards the door, with a firm grip on the intruder and his firm grip on me, the carpenter wasn’t in a real big hurry to assist me with my situation.  I quickly grasped the Intruder behind his head and he released his grasp but now wrapped its body around my arm, you see the intruder was a bull, black racer snake.  The carpenter, gave me plenty of room as I headed through the garden foyer, turning right to the side of the building to release the snake into the brush line.  The snake had a ridged grip on my arm and I must have been squeezing him just as hard it appeared to be grasping for breath with a wide open mouth.  He reduced his grip and allowed me to pull him away from my arm and I tossed him towards the bushes.  The problem was, the snake decided the battle wasn’t over and came racing back towards me, coiled up and struck at me several times.  I kick blocked both strikes and he turned and slithered into the bushes.  I returned to the condo as the carpenter was attempting to comfort Christie and now between the sniffles and tears, Christie explained what happened.

She had just finished her shower, wrapped her hair and was preparing to put her makeup on when the snake crawled out of the toilet.  She told me she didn’t want to stay in the condo anymore and started crying again.  I immediately called her mother to advise her what had happened, (which became another horrible mistake), her mother broke out in tears and sounded a lot like Christie.  How could this have happened, she asked?  I wasn’t sure if my explanation was going to give any comfort to either of them, but with all the crazy things I’ve experienced in my building/remodeling career, I did the best I could.  The snake had climbed bushes or trees to get to the warmth of the building roof, as well as look for food.  Because frogs are part of the snake’s diet, it had probably learned frogs like to live in the plumbing vent stacks.  The problem is; frogs can stick to the sides of the plumbing stack and the snake can’t and as the snake went for the frog, it fell to the bottom of the drain.  It had followed the flow of water and sound, went through the P-trap in the toilet, saw the light and made its exit.  I advised both women that I could fix the problem so it wouldn’t happen again but I could tell, Christie wasn’t thrilled about staying in her condo.  Before the semester was over, Christie’s parents contracted with us to list their condo for sale.  

What happened to Christie is not an everyday occurrence but it does happen more often than you know.  There are a couple different solutions to remedy the problem so it may not happen again.  Keep the bushes around your home away from the sides and eaves and if you have wood siding on your home, make sure that the bottom of the siding does not have exposed gaps for varmints to crawl inside the wall.  Make sure branches and limbs are several feet from your roof.  To keep varmints out of your plumbing stack, install critter guards over the exposed pipe.  Critter guards are also helpful in the south east where the gray squirrel likes to chew away the lead plumbing boots. 

Yep, just another day in the real estate business, association management, sales and construction in North Central Florida, but this could happen anywhere there are tree frogs and black snakes… 

Covid, Accident or Experiment

 

While Covid cases are declining in the US and after enduring social distancing, face masks and shutdowns, the question comes to mind; was Covid an accident or an experiment? I do not believe the pandemic was caused by bats or the many excuses the World Health Organization and our national virologist has spread across the media. In my opinion, it was either an accidental leak or it was a calculated experiment.

I find it hard to believe an accidental exposer was the root cause of the pandemic. There are scientific and research protocols which leads me to believe the Chinese are not that sloppy with their research, which leads me to the idea that Covid was a calculated experiment, and the following would lead to the reconnaissance results of an intentional exposure using a low-level biological agent. What the research would identify is the infection rate within a common area and then the spread of the infection across the world and how to deliberately spread the virus. Knowing who would be most vulnerable and the amount of care needed to care for those who were infected is a battlefield plan; it takes more people to care for the injured/infected than it does to care for the dead. Targeting the elderly, the obese, the poor, those with heart disease and diabetes, in the eyes of he enemy, would be nothing more than a flushing of society.

The weak link in our supply chain for protective equipment, ventilators, and hospital first responders as the infection rate increased and how quickly a vaccine could be produced can all be used in the calculations for the next exposure. The reluctance of people receiving the vaccine and the future vulnerability of the populous gives them additional data on which virus to release and target areas to achieve the greatest impact.

The financial burden on our government to battle the pandemic has yet to be calculated and with our national debt of thirty trillion dollars is going to increase without a plan to pay the debt down, the next pandemic will lead to a financial meltdown of our fiat economy.

Was it an accident or a calculated plan? If it was a calculated plan, when will the next pandemic occur, who will be the target and how will our nation survive physically and financially.

PTSD and the Dark Hallway

 

He stared into darkness of his morning coffee cup as she hurriedly prepared herself for work in silence. He stared up to take a quick glance at her face, as she passed by him without saying a word, the silence was deafening. Grabbing her purse from the shelf and the rattle of the keys in her hand, she walked out of their home turning, and locking the door to his self-imposed prison. For a moment, he sat in the dull light of the table lamp and decided to load his coffee cup once again. Walking into the kitchen, opening the cabinet door, and removing his favorite pain reliever. Pouring the contents into his coffee, he found the bottom of the brown plastic bottle and tossed it into the trash on top of the other three bottles of the week. Turning the cup up and savoring the flavor of the coffee and cheap whiskey. He wandered through his house, staring out the window into nothing and remembering the battles long past. Walking down the hallway where his military past hung in glory, certificates, pictures, medals, and plaques of service to his unit and our country. Taking another swallow of his wicked brew, the dullness inside his body increased, as the pain began to fade. He continued into the cluttered bedroom and opened his closet door and looked at the strips on the sleeve of his uniform. Reaching in, grabbing the hanger and holding it up to stare at his former glory. Carrying it over to the bed, laying it over the wrinkled covers as he stared down upon the uniform that had long ago, shrank inside the closet. Taking another swallow, he found the bottom of his coffee cup, and now it was time to take his journey. He reached down and opened the drawer to the nightstand where his transportation to Valhalla awaited him. Its polished body sparkled, it was the chariot that would carry him on a final journey he had long anticipated and never spoken a word of to anyone.  He walked back into the bathroom and stared into the mirror at eyes of his captor, closed his eyes and started down the long dark hallway, raising his chariot to his head, and with the crack of a whip, he opened the door to Valhalla.

Everyday, an average of 22 veterans walk down a darkened hallway and open a door to Valhalla. Their loved ones and family will have no idea of their planned journey. The signs are often there, alienation, reserved and self-medication. If you are a veteran or the family of a veteran, please call 800-273-8255 and press 1 when answered. A trained responder will answer your call. Valhalla waits for all our warriors, help us help them put off the journey.

Walking Away from the Darkness

Veteran suicides rates are higher than non-veteran in the United States and the highest percentage of suicides per age group is the 18-34-year old’s, according to the 2019 VA suicide report. But the highest number of suicides among veterans is the 55- 74. It may be hard to believe for some of you, I was close to becoming a statistic. What I did to change directions and what steps I took to walk away from the darkness. Here is my story…

Walking towards the darkness didn’t seem such a bad idea in the fall of 2016. The Great Recession had drained our savings and retirement nine years earlier, and it was a struggle keeping our heads above water for several years. As business slowly turned, paying off debt was a number one priority. No longer did we have the luxuries of the condo at the beach, exotic cars, boats and cruise vacations, it was a weekly struggle just to stay afloat. Turning sixty wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, I was still in pretty good shape and could hold my own on a building project. Things were starting to pick up, we were able to take a few small trips and invest in our business once again, another downturn in my construction business. My business wasn’t just bleeding cash, it was hemorrhaging. I looked over the profit and loss statement and the outstanding debt of unpaid invoices and paid out profits, (that should not have been paid out), I pulled the plug on the business. There I stood again with large debts and all my future efforts was to pay off debt once again, as the darkness loomed.

During my annual physical at the VA, I was shocked at the amount of weight I had gained from the year prior and the interview with the nurse wasn’t going well. My blood pressure was high, and they took it three additional times and the variance wasn’t much different from the first reading. As the doctor looked over the blood test results and explained my sugar was higher than it should be, my cholesterol reading was to high and I should start taking a statin drug to control it, and my blood pressure medication probably needed to be increased to bring in into healthy level. As I stared at the report, the one thing that stood out more than anything was the designation of my body content, the box marked obese. How did I let this happen? A heavy debt and now I’m obese, and at sixty-two years old, I could feel the darkness closing in.

 2016 was beginning to be the worst year of my life. It started out looking good with business coming in and by June, it started to unravel. My annual physical results lay heavy on my mind then difficulty with an aging parent and family influence and deception created additional mental pressures. By fall, a question lingered in my mind from my VA physical; have you ever considered harming yourself? I had never thought about it before, but I was considering it now. While mowing the yard on the riding lawn mower, I was developing a plan of what I needed to accomplish before I pulled the trigger. My plan was to have all the company debt paid off, have the house maintenance up to date, get my dress blues laid out with all the ribbons and accouterments polished and properly placed. I was going to walk into the backyard, call 911 and advise them of my address and where my body would be, hang up, and pull the trigger.  

As a combat veteran from Desert Storm, I had lost the fear of death. The one worry I had was not for me, it was for my wife. Communications were different then, if something would have happened to me, my wife would have had a knock on the door from a Chaplin and a survival officer standing on the other side. We have an extremely close relationship and the thought of her pain kept me in survival mode and now, the thought of her having a police officer knock on her office door would devastate her. I couldn’t bear laying that burden on her, there had to be another way to walk away from the darkness.

What really got me motivated was a picture of me. I had been lying to myself for years, I wasn’t in good shape and I had let myself go and it pissed me off and it was that anger that led me to taking those first steps away from the darkness. I started out with a fitness plan, one that had been suggested by a real estate trainer; two glasses of water and fifteen minutes of a vigorous exercise. My exercise started out with a two mile walk through our neighborhood. The first few weeks I was disgusted with myself with every step I took I could feel the fat around my waist flop and jiggle, and over the course of a month, the jiggle lightened up. I stepped on the scale and I had lost eight pounds, I was on my way.

The next choice I made was to change my diet. I had been suffering with acid reflux for several years and I was constantly eating antacids to control the heartburn. It wasn’t until I overdosed on fresh buttermilk biscuits that the real problem I was having, was with gluten. I stopped eating all gluten products and over the course of two weeks, I was thinking clearer, acid reflux was gone, and I had lost another ten pounds.

Over the next year, I was feeling stronger and I was down two pant size. I had started interval training with a combination of four quarter mile walks and three, quarter mile runs, and I was down another five pounds. The icing on the cake was when I found a good quality bicycle during a clean-out. I decided I would mix cycling with my interval training. The first day I rode my bike for two and a half miles and when I stopped, got off the bike, thank god I had the bike to hold me up as I walked the bike up the driveway to the garage. My legs were shaking so bad, I had to use the handrail to help me up the stairs into our home. Within a few weeks I was riding six miles, then eleven, then twenty and I got the bright idea, (after one to many glasses of wine), I was going to ride to the beach, an eighty-five-mile ride and I would do it for a charity. After just three months of riding, (after not having ridden a bike in forty years), on December 7^th, 2018, a couple of friends joined me for the ride to the beach. It took us eight and half hours for the ride and I was worn out. We made the same trip again three months later and it took us six hours this time. It was during that trip while we were all sitting around the dinner table where we were talking about running, 5K’s and half marathons. It was after an additional glass of wine I told my wife I was going to run a half marathon that fall. I trained all through the summer and on October 20^th, 2019, I ran my first half marathon in two hours, eleven minutes. I finished 125^th out of over two thousand runners and took 3^rd place for my age group. Two months later, I participated in a 100K bike race and finished in the top twenty in my class.

The point of this story is; mental fitness and physical fitness go hand in hand. If you want to become physically fit, you can do it at any age. You just have to make that decision yourself and stick with it.  There will be changes in your eating habits, there will be people along the way to coach you or assist you with your training. You don’t have to run a half marathon or do a 100K bike ride but you will have to write down your goals and create target dates.  Your physical fitness starts just like mine did; two glasses of water and fifteen minutes of vigorous exercise.

  

My First half Marathon

My 100K Bike Race

The before of me 

The Shiny Penny

If you were to offer a child a shiny new penny or a worn discolored dime; which do you believe they would take? Without understanding value, they typically would choose the penny because it was new and larger than the dime, so it obviously would have a greater value, in their mind. Many new real estate agents entering the business do the same exact thing because they do not understand value. The shiny penny gets all the attention with the brilliant office and the smiling face that exudes wealth. Newly licensed agents are promised opportunities from long-standing companies with the reputation of housing top producers or having market share. They promise training and the ability to shadow top producing agents and learn how to become a top producer themselves. Oh yes, their commissions are lower than other firms, but they offer their reputation and services, unlike other firms. They will be among several newly licensed agents which they will all learn along the way and become part of the company team.

The training begins with scripts for calling expired listings and “for sale by owners”, and the role playing begins until they have their scripts down pact, and the phone calls begin, alongside other agents. After many hang-ups and disgruntled persons on the other end of the call, they create an opportunity to make a listing presentation and take on an over-priced listing that will linger once again because of an owner’s preconceived idea of the value of their home, and later expires, again.

The shadowing of top producers becomes stuffing envelopes or applying stamps to postcards and attending closings where they witness large commission checks the top producer receive and their excitement builds once again as the newly licensed agent makes a cash advance on their credit card to make it through another month without income.

Very soon the shiny penny isn’t as exciting as it once was. The newly licensed agent must take on another job to fulfill their financial obligations, often to the dismay of the shiny real estate brokerage. The training fades and very soon the newly licensed agent is cast into the heap of other fledgling agents and the shiny penny becomes a tarnished albatross around the neck of the newly licensed agent as they become tarnished with the real estate industry. If only they had only knew the right questions to ask and were able to look past the shiny penny.

 What many newly licensed agents don’t understand is, they are in business for themselves and they need to understand what tools they must invest into to go along with the training. They need to understand that the market share of the firm is not theirs, a shiny office is to impress the public’s opinion, not theirs. They need to know what other opportunities will available for them to create cash flow and build a database other than working with buyers and sellers? They need to understand, they are building "their" business and not just for the reputation or create a larger market share for the shiny penny.

The old dime is there, long after many agents have been cast into a pile for their tiny piece of market share. There are many opportunities with the old dime that will be bypassed by those who don’t understand the value or what questions to ask. Let's start the conversation.

When Leaders Fail

I was recently talking with the mother of a young soldier who is losing his interest and faith of the Army. She told me his dream of a lifetime was to become a soldier, train and serve his country. His recruiter kept him excited through his last year of high school, explaining of the quality training he was going to receive, all while serving his country. A few weeks after graduation, he shipped off to basic training and fell in love with the Army. He got his first choice of duty stations and soon upon arriving, his unit went to the field and his excitement grew even stronger. Then reality set in after returning from the field, doing maintenance on the equipment and then nothing else happened. Winter set in and it seems the training stopped, and the long days of boredom have set in. I have seen this all before from units I have served in. Training schedules posted and not followed, NCO’s sitting around in B.S. meetings, telling war stories or hiding at home between formations, all while their soldiers sit around in the day room playing video games or watching movies. We spend thousands of dollars recruiting young people into our ranks, spend thousands of dollars molding and training them just to send them to units where lazy NCO’s fail to do their jobs of taking care of their soldiers. There are no reasons soldiers should be bored or idle during the duty day. The job of the NCO is making sure their soldiers are trained and given meaningful tasks for their future development, counseled on what they need to be doing to gain the next rank and develop points to become an NCO. The problem is, they do not want to become like their NCO. Leadership is about setting the example, giving guidance and developing our next generation of leaders. My next step is going to be writing a letter to the young soldier and giving him the advice he needs to hear and not follow in the footsteps of the typical barracks rat private. I will give him guidance about the educational opportunities awaiting him and how he can use his idle time to gain college credits and a future degree he is going to need when he ETS’s. If he continues at his current rate, chances are he will spend four years serving our country in a job he now hates, with limited skills and four years behind his peers back home. My advice for those NCO’s; do your damn job so I don’t have to do it for you. Be the leader and take care of your soldiers, train them, give them guidance and above all; get off your butt and do your job!   

Debt, the Real Killer

During an early morning drive to Orlando for a speaking engagement, while listening to some mindless radio chatter, an advertisement blasted out from a young man, with poor credit, was able to get a car loan from a local credit union, using his car as collateral to pay off some accumulated bills and put some cash in his pocket. My thoughts were; if you have poor credit, why would you borrow more money to extend yourself into debt and put additional borrowed spending cash into your pocket? As the radio signal faded, I changed stations and another commercial blared out the ability to pay-off those holiday credit cards with a home equity line of credit and have additional cash for the Spring get-away vacation. I had to ponder on that one for a moment; let’s see, you spend money you don’t have to make other people happy during the holidays, just to make yourself happy, only to get upset with yourself for creating a financial burden which now you will borrow more money to pay off the debt and then take a vacation you can’t afford using the equity in your home, as an ATM. I asked myself this question; how does that make any sense with anyone? The truth of the matter, that is exactly how a large portion of our society lives today. They use what equity they have built in their home and car to pay off credit cards to lower their interest rate on the borrowed money only to once again make purchases with their credit cards with high interest rates and make minimum payments until the card limits out and the cycle returns for a re-finance of their home mortgage or trade-in their used car for extended financing. Debt is the real killer of our economy, households and relationships. Debt leads to stress, which leads to anxiety, overeating and drinking, which leads to additional health problems. Debt is the real killer in our community. Money management needs to be part of the “Public Service” advertisements on radio and television. Money management needs to be taught starting in elementary school and advanced in middle and high school. Our college graduates are drowning in debt, our nation’s families credit card debt is over one and half trillion dollars and the banks and lending institutions are not helping, they’re enabling. Before you decide to extend your credit card spending limit, re-finance your car or get a home equity line of credit, sit down and create a real savings and spending budget. If you find yourself digging yourself deeper into debt, stop digging! Find an organization who will assist you with your debt, talk with your lenders and stop going down the path of financial ruin. Think about the future and the cash you will need in case of an emergency or your retirement that is quickly catching up with you. Don’t let debt be the killer of you!

Why You're Not Worth Minimum Wage!

Have you ever walked through a shopping mall and thought to yourself; how do the small kiosks make a profit? My wife and I were recently in Dallas for a real estate convention and had the afternoon off, so we took a ride to a local mall. As we strolled through the mall, I couldn’t help noticing that every one of the small kiosk vendors were to busy, with their nose stuck into their cell phone, to address anyone walking past. One of my favorite comments I make to clerks to generate conversation is; “are they working you hard”? I stopped at one of the kiosks and looked over what they had to offer as the clerk paid no attention to my wife and me and I asked them; are they working you hard? To my surprise, they looked up from their phone, rolled their eyes and said; for what they pay me here, I’m not going to work hard and returned to their phone. They obviously knew I wasn’t interested in the product they were peddling and now the question comes to mind; why are they being paid minimum wage? I hear all the crying coming from our elected representatives, minimum wage should be increased to $15.00 per hour.  For our elected officials, it’s an open checkbook to pay their staff but for small business, it’s watching every penny to make a profit. I am all for getting rid of the minimum wage system and bringing out an incentive pay system. If a sales clerk wants a raise, sell something, make a presentation even if nobody is watching. We have all heard the question when at a fast, (convenient), food establishment; would you like fries with that or would you like to up-size? What would happen if there was a meeting before every shift and the manager advised the crew of a minimum goal and once they achieved that goal, everyone would make a percentage of the profit; would that be enough incentive to get them motivated to actually sell something or connect with potential customers? Some will say; you can do that with sales, but you can’t do that with office staff, and I would disagree. You can measure the number of calls, accuracy of paperwork and the overall profitability of the business.

To the surprise of many workers of the future, you will be fired because the current minimum wage you are being paid is far more than your worth as an employee. I foresee a bleak future for many college educated minimum wage people, you might actually have to put your phone down and go to work. Here’s a line taken from one of my favorite professional speakers, Larry Winget, “It’s called work for a reason”.

When you need a speaker for your next event, contact me.

Three words you can use for the Perfect Hire

Possibly, one of the biggest challenges business owners face is hiring new personnel. It doesn’t matter what industry, we all face the same challenge. What about that employee from the past, who seemed to be the perfect hire, only to become a huge disappointment and leave your business in worse condition before they were hired. Then there are the hires who show up and then it goes downhill from there, all they do is show up. One of the best lessons I learned for hiring personnel was at a time I was serving as a project superintendent for a large medical clinic. It was from the general contractor who hired me, showed me how to find that person who would show up and be willing to do whatever needed to be done. I was perplexed at what he showed me and put what he taught me into action and it worked immediately. I had hired and fired a lot of people and crews from the project for many different reasons and it all came down to my lack of interviewing skills. My deadline for the building completion was bearing down on me and I had to hire people and crews who would understand the pressure we were under to complete the project on time. We were running advertisements in several surrounding towns and received many phone calls asking about the project with promises to show up for an interview, only to be disappointed with the skill I learned from the general contractor. I needed carpenters, plumbers, roofers, painters, and general laborers and the skill I learned from the general contractor made it possible for me to hire the right people and we finished the project ahead of schedule. You are probably asking what the secret was to hire the right people and it was just three words that made all the difference; push that broom. Many of those who came to interview only offered one skill, the only thing they were willing to do, and they believed that was all they should do. The look on their faces as we walked around the project and walked into and area covered with saw dust or sheet rock debris and I called a laborer over with a broom in hand and offered the broom to whom I was interviewing, handing them the broom; show me how you push a broom. I was told many times; that’s not what I do or I’m not going to do that. It was the people who had primary skills who took the broom from my hand and cleaned the area were the people I hired. What they showed me was, they were willing to do anything to get the job done and they were hired with the understanding that if called upon them to do something different, they were willing to be a team player. Push that broom, three little words that speak volumes of someone’s character.

When you need a speaker for your next event, contact me.  

What I Learned in Prison

The first thing I noticed before entering prison was the tall chain linked fence with rows of razor wire at the top and along the base of the fence. The first sounds of prison that resonated in my memory was the buzzing for the magnetic release on the steel door, the creaking of the rusty hinges and the clashing sound of steel on steel as the door slams shut behind me. As I lay my carried items on a bench to be x-rayed, I turned and walked through a metal detector, and awaiting me on the other side was a guard who direct me to extend my arms and spread my legs. I felt the guard’s hands run up and down my legs and arms, across my back and sides and down my chest and stomach area. As I processed in, they photographed me, assigned a number and tagged me, scanned my hand for recognition and then directed to another door. Beyond the door was another steel door, another buzzer and squeaking hinges and then another steel door beyond that one, with a buzz the release of the magnetic latch, the door is pushed open and I walked into prison, as the steel door slammed behind me. As I walked through the area, it was as if every convict’s eyes were upon me, some greeted me as others just stared. As I opened the door to the reception area, I was greeted with a smile, a handshake and welcomed. By now, you must understand, I was not convicted of a crime, I was there to teach inmates the art of networking. Of the 1300 plus inmates incarcerated in the prison, I had thirty men who had signed up to attend my eight-secession course. The inmates had been screened by the prison staff and only these select few would be able to participate. What I quickly learned was these men were hungry for knowledge and wanted to learn networking skills they could use in and out of prison. What they quickly learned from me is I held them accountable for their assignments, which many others had not. Several men dropped out of the course after giving them an assignment, they failed to do it and part of that assignment was to write a draft and present it in front of the men. When I called upon them, they said they hadn’t done the homework and I told them; you’re still going to present. They quickly learned accountability was tough and too difficult for them. What I learned in prison was similarities with the inmates. Most of them were from homes with a drug or alcohol addicted parent, had been abused and many had been part of social services and most of them did not have a strong male influence in their life. Without a strong family life, many fled to the streets to find a bond. Many of you reading this will say; they knew the difference between right and wrong, and they would agree with you. But given that most of them were in survival mode, they did what they felt necessary to do to survive.

For some of the men who attended my course, they will be getting released within a few months or a few years and some will be in prison for the rest of their life, and they will have gained networking skills and the ability to determine personalities and know how speak and understand others. As I leave the prison, there is the buzz of the magnetic lock and the squeaking hinges and the slam of steel on steel. As I walk through the last gate into the darkness of the prison parking lot, I think to myself; these men will have better networking skills than most of our population. When they are released from prison, they will be in survival mode with speaking skills.

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What our Country Needs is a Real Catastrophe

What our country needs is a good catastrophe. As I drive around our community, walk through airports and witness our community pay attention only to their individual wants and desires, what we really need is a catastrophe that will effect two thirds of our country. Yes, it is a brutal thought, watching people die, right in front of you. The inability to think beyond your personal wants and have to think about your survival. I can’t wait to see when our electrical grid go down and the majority of the population goes into a panic mode when their screen’s no longer function. When they actually have to depend on face to face communications or maybe have to actually talk with someone without an attitude in their voice, just to survive. How will they react when there is no power and when they have not planned for the future, let alone the next day? The smell of rotting corpse and watching the people you love, die right in front of your eyes. Yes, what our country needs is a good catastrophe, a wake up call, of what is really important in everyday life. If you have difficulty figuring out what is really important, you will become a causality of the coming catastrophe. The Grid will go down and there will be many across our nation, watch the demise of the lifestyle of our country. It’s coming and the majority of our population is to busy listening to Pandora, watching a video on Netflix or texting some mindless communication to a friend. What will you do, it’s coming, the grid will go down and we will be able to watch 25% of our population die, right in front of our eyes. Are you prepared for the grid to go down? It’s coming… When you can no longer make a call, a text, an email, or go to an ATM to withdraw cash from an account that can’t be accessed, we get to watch you suffer. How long can you go without your phone, debit card or electricity? If you don’t have enough available cash to buy food, gas or medical care.. you will become a victim of lack of planning. It’s coming, when you least expect it, will you be able to survive weeks without electricity? When your phone has become worthless, when being online means nothing because the internet no longer exists for your area and you get to watch people you care about, die right in front of you; what will life mean to you? I’m prepared, are you? The only thing I request; do not knock on my door and expect me to assist you with your survival. We have planned, we know it’s coming and I can’t wait to watch the change for the better, from those who actually make the sacrifice to survive.

After reading this, do you question yourself if you are ready for a catastrophe? Will you become a victim from your lack of preparation? How will you feel, watching those you care about, die right before your eyes? What our country needs is a real catastrophe so you will realize what is really important in life.   

The Boy In the Box

My Troop Commander looked at me and asked; why I had failed the Master Gunner course? I had to look him in the eye and let him know I failed the presentation portion of the program, (It’s kind of amusing to me right now as I’m a Professional Speaker of the National Speakers Association). The blame was totally on me, I tried to take on the task, solely upon myself, (everyone else in my group had previously failed out of the course). We were headed to gunnery and I advised the Captain, I had all the technical expertise to assist our Cavalry Troop during gunnery and would take the position of Troop Master Gunner to make sure our troopers would do well. He knew I had been through combat and told me; I’m relying on you Staff Sergeant! We’ll do well sir, that’s a I promise intend to keep to you sir! He dismissed me and now I had made a promise that I intended to keep, not only for me, but I had to prove myself that I had the expertise to assist other soldiers in their gunnery skills. As I walked into out squad room, I was introduced to a new soldier who would be on my Bradley. He had served in Korea during “Operation Desert Storm” and missed the opportunity for combat experience. He had served with a unit I had served with and immediately, I felt an attraction to him from his experience. I counseled him about what my expectations were and what he needed to do to gain rank and become the gunner to my track. He was a tall lanky kid from Texas and I really liked him. Over the next few weeks in preparing for gunnery, I asked him to join me in the simulator in preparing him for the gunners’ position. I t happened to be at 0200 hours on a Saturday morning, he arrived on time, in uniform and was a quick learner, I really liked this kid. He worked his butt off in the motor pool getting out Bradley Fighting Vehicle ready for field training and gunnery. 

It was a September Saturday that I watched the local news report about a local airport that was victimized and an aircraft was about to be stolen and got stuck in the mud on a taxiway, before making a turn onto the main runway. I paid no attention and went on enjoying the weekend with my wife.

Field training against other units was a fun opportunity to test our skills and we had several test during a 12 day Field training Exercise. The next weekend was getting our vehicles ready for gunnery and we were about to have a four day weekend over the Halloween weekend. Tuesday morning came and my soldier was missing and I reported him missing during the morning report. I asked his roommates if they had seen him and they responded they had not seen him since the previous Friday. Wednesday came and he was AWOL, Thursday came and I again reported him missing and it was time to cut the lock on his wall locker and make inventory of his possessions. Going through his possessions, I had to make accountability and came across items that only a pilot would need. I reported all the items to the First Sergeant and Commander and several days later, a local detective stopped by our Troop and asked me questions about the items I had reported during his inventory inspection. One of the items had been reported stolen from an aircraft several week before and they were investigating a stolen plane on Halloween from a local airport. I had no idea of a stolen plane and I called my crew to speak with the detective about what they knew. My driver had been invited by him, on Halloween, to fly with him to Texas over the weekend so he could confront a guy who had made a move on his girl. He had refused and that was the last he had heard of him. We deployed to gunnery several days later and I had to train a new gunner and the competition was high with my track and the commander. Our track had out shot the other tracks during the practice runs and the Troop Commander was calling me out and intended to out gun me. The sights on my track went down and I had to use my sister track for qualification and we maxed it! The commander called me to the tower to congratulate my crew for kicking his butt on the range and we were rewarded the opportunity to hit the rack and sleep in the following morning.

0600 hours, my Platoon Sergeant woke me up and said I needed to report to the Commander and First Sergeant, right now, so much for sleeping in. When I walked into the tower, my Platoon Leader, Platoon Sergeant, first Sergeant and Commander were waiting for me. My first thought, they would find that I didn’t make top gun and they were going to accuse me of cheating, especially since the Troop Commander was in the left lane. To my surprise, they had found my lost soldier. He had stolen a plane on Halloween and attempted to take-off in a deep fog. He had rose to altitude and made a sharp right turn over our military training area, didn’t watch his altimeter and winged into a training area, crashed and burned. They asked me to deliver his remains to his parents in Texas and get all the appropriate paper worked signed. He was my soldier, after all, and I felt it my duty to represent him. My duties was to inspect the remains, place his uniform over his remains and attend to the funeral arraignments.  During the inspection, the once six foot two man was now an elastic wrapped glob of unidentifiable, non-human recognizable four foot burnt figure. I laid the uniform over the figure and coordinated with the funeral director to pick me up at my home in the morning and deliver the remains and me to the Kansas City, airport. The airline saw what I was doing and placed me in first class for my flight to Texas. The Texas funeral director soon met me and secured the remains as I acquired a rental car. That evening, I arrived an hour early, prior to the viewing of the flag draped coffin to get all my paperwork squared away. The family arrived and I gave the family a good hour before I briefed them on the paperwork and tell them of my soldier. How do you look into the eyes of a mother and tell her, her son really screwed up? I described her son’s military bearing and my experience with his training. The next day was the funeral service and I had to make sure the casket was properly delivered into the earth and covered to US Army specifications. One of my soldier’s nephews approached me, as the coffin was being lowered into the grave liner, and asked me more about the Army. I told him to look at the coffin as it was being lowered into the grave. I pointed to the coffin; that’s what happens from making the wrong decisions. Learn from his mistakes and walk away from the final covering, it wasn’t something he needed to witness. I shook his hand and watched the lid on the liner be lowered into place and covered with the good Texas earth.

I often think back to his mother and how she must have felt with her first view of the flag draped coffin and her boy in the box, she would never see again. All she had was memories and when she asked of his uniform, I told her it was with him. The boy in the box was my soldier. I don’t know what more I could have done to have prevented him from stealing a plane and crashing to a fiery death. I often think of him, the 5/17 Cavalry coin he gave me. The boy in the box, one of my kids that I lost, not to combat but to everyday life and the girl far away.  

Frog in the Pool

Sunday morning, we relished the few extra minutes we slept in before our morning walk, and soon to relax with our coffee, sitting alongside the pool. As we walked to our table, I noticed a frog in the pool. Nothing unusual about a frog in the pool, we find them in the skimmer basket all the time. This time, watching the frog struggle, I thought how it reminded me of many people out there who are struggling from decisions they made. I can only imagine how the frog felt as it hopped onto the warm pool deck and followed the coolness of the water as it drifted over the pools edge, as the frog peered down into the clear cool water. It imagined to itself how good it would feel to beat the heat of the Florida summer and leaped into the water. Swimming around the cool water, having the one of the best feelings it had felt in many days. How refreshing it was for the frog to escape the Florida heat. After a while, the frog began to tire from all the swimming and it was time to get out of the water but it had not thought of how it was going to get out of the pool before it leaped in. There are no steps, only ladders to get out of the pool and the toad frog didn’t know how to climb ladders. There are no sloping sides for the frog to grasp hold of and the frog struggled along the smooth sides of the pool. Several times the frog backed away from the side, tried to get a running start, slamming itself to the side of the pool, and failing to achieve its goal of escaping the water. After a while of watching the frog struggle, I decided to help the frog out of the pool with the skimmer net. I scooped the frog from the water and as I adjusted myself to release the frog into the yard, it jumped off the skimmer onto the pool deck and leaped back into the pool. I re-evaluated my plan, I opened the screen door to the pool cage, changed the angle of my approach to the frog, lifted it out of the water once again, and quickly moved the skimmer net, with the frog, to the open door and released it into the yard.

Why tell this story and how does it remind me of people? There are so many people who never plan for their future, they only think of their, “Right Now”, feelings. They never evaluate their total situation and fail to develop an escape or future plan. Many people often trap themselves in jobs or lifestyles they can’t see their way out of. They often fail to accept the help from others and when helped, often leap back into the same situation they had escaped.

The moral of the story; look before you leap, have an escape plan and when in trouble, accept the help from others who appear to have an organized plan.