This is a pretty good video a kid made about growing up without a father in the home and the great work mom has done. It seems appropriate for the week.
I can still remember when I first read The Millionaire Next Door. I was new in my career having moved from my small hometown to "the city" (Oklahoma City) to start my adult working life. This was the early 90's and there was a recession going on. For some reason, there did not seem to be much of a demand for people with a degree in Government from a small college and work experience that consisted of being a janitor at a hospital. I had tried to find a job for many months before I finally was offered one by Cellular One as a call center collections agent. The starting pay was $14,000 base with a possible $3,000 bonus which turned out to be the absolute minimum I thought I could survive on. Flash forward just a couple of years later and I hear about this book that tells stories of how average people with an average income ended up being very wealthy. At the time, the primary learning I took away was that most millionaires did not drive Porsche 911 or wear an Italian suit...
My son loved Superman when he was younger. So much in fact that when he turned three several years ago we decided to have a Superman theme party. Let me tell you it was something. We scoured the Internet until we found almost every Superman item we could. Hats, a tablecloth, cups, cake, you name it we bought it. The heck with the college fund. At the party it was exciting to have the plan come together. All the kids showed up along with the parents. Each had arms full of stuff that I knew I would be tripping over later. His favorite gifts were a pair of bright blue Superman underroos and a cape that a neighbor gave him. I loved watching him run around yelling, “I’m Superman! I’m Superman!” A few days later we went for a walk. Conner of course insisted on wearing his underoos outfit and a pair of tall black rubber boots. I walked behind him as we traveled through the neighborhood and thought about this fascination that most young children have with superheroes. I can reme...
“You have bigger boobs than me” Ouch! This was said to me in jest by a girlfriend of mine back in the spring of 1989 as we were eating a big tray of nachos. I was 21 years old at the time and in my fourth year of college. I am person that has struggled with my weight as long as I can remember and it seemed no matter what I tried it would just not come off. As a youth, I remember the teasing from the other kids very clearly. I also remember the feeling as I stood there at gym or recess knowing I was going to be the last person to get picked for whatever sport we were being forced to play. My fear of athletic failure kept me from doing any sports. Exercise was a truly was a stranger to me. Really, up until that moment in 1989 I don’t think my heart had ever risen above 100 BPM unless I was running to grab the last ding dong from the box. The boob comment for some reason though lit a spark in me. I decided at that moment that I was going to change my life. I was going to learn to eat ri...
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