Another Job I Can't Do

Readers recently discovered that I am NOT good at everything. You are all mighty shocked, I am sure. Brace yourselves - in addition to discovering that I would NOT be a good server, I have to tell you something else. I would also not be good at commission sales.

Sure, I can sell members of my church a lot of frozen casseroles. And I have sold lots and lots of Girl Scout cookies. Wait...that's not right...I have bought lots and lots of Girl Scout cookies.

Straight commission sales...add in a snake and a small child and you've got my personal definition of hell.

I did try it - once. I was in my early twenties and disenchanted with my job stuffing inserts into the newspaper. I answered one of those ads in the classifieds that looks really cool: Be your own boss! Unlimited earning potential! Set your own hours!

My antennae should have been alerted when the "interview" was scheduled for a Sunday evening at the offices of Thousand Trails in Rustburg. And when I arrived and found myself part of a "group interview" - the alarm bells should have been ringing. But they weren't - because I was young and trusted the advertiser. NEVER trust advertisers. From politics to products, advertisers have one goal: make you want what they are offering.

But I digress...a pair of energetic young college students (one male, one female - both very attractive) spent half an hour telling us about the untapped sales universe opening up before us. We all had the opportunity to make unlimited money selling time-share campground spaces. Time-share camping. Yup. And while the good looking young hunk was telling me how intelligent and go-getting I appeared to be (during our private interview...10 minutes long....) - well, I sure was passionate about getting out there and selling a whole bunch of seniors with RVs on the joys of camping in the great city of Rustburg, Virginia.

On the drive home, I started to come to my senses. And then I tried my pitch on my parents - who kindly informed me that it wasn't something that they were prepared to invest in. I tried my pitch on about three more couples in my circle of friends...then I gave up. I am sure that there are people out there who could have made that job work.


No...you know, I'm NOT sure that there are people out there who could have made a good living at selling time-share camping in Rustburg. It really was a dreadful "product" to sell.

This all came to mind when I young man that I know and love was enticed to go into commission sales. Same energetic pitch...same delirium caused by smiling people saying "this stuff practically sells itself! You make $15 for every meeting you set up. You'll be rich in no time..."

Actually - this young man came to his senses much quicker than me.

But it still angers me that companies feel it is okay to take advantage of young people in this way. Dangle some fat cash promises and the "joy" of being your own boss (generally, people suck at being their own boss. Especially college-age people who haven't had a lot of bosses to model after). It's a crappy and unethical way to make a buck. Usually what happens is the family of the young person buys stuff "just to get them started." And then they might be generous enough to refer a few friends and colleagues (great way to lose both!) before the young person realizes they could make more money selling their plasma.

Ethical companies provide sales training AND support. Good sales jobs usually start with a "draw" (a base salary while you're learning the ropes) that declines over time (after all, there has to be an incentive to start making sales!). But it has become an acceptable practice to have young people bust their humps, selling stuff to their unsuspecting family and soon-to-be-former friends...then when the young people run out of leads - you just cut them loose and suck in some more.

I'm not going to buy stuff from companies like that any more. That includes a lot of our local car dealerships.

And I'm not going to try to sell any more time-shares for Thousand Trails.

As I told a telemarketer one day when they were trying to sell me an internet listing service, "perhaps you should go into a more ethical line of work...like drowning kittens or prostitution."

Hamster beaten.

Salute to Servers

I always thought that I'd be really good as a waitress. After all, I like food. I like people. And I have a good enough memory to be able to bring people unsweet tea when that is what they are drinking (a pet peeve of mine...taking a big swig of my refreshing beverage to get hit by the cloying sweetness of southern sweet tea). What could be hard about serving?

Everything.

I tried it when I returned from my last season at Kings Dominion. I lasted for two, yes...TWO lunches. I didn't even make it to dinner service. I admit, it may have been a mistake to start at a local fine dining establishment. The place was Emil's (where Isabella's is now) and the kitchen was ruled by the iron fist of Urs Gabathuler. A German chef that made Gordon Ramsey look tame. Highly talented, but extremely particular. The server who was "training" me put the fear of God in me. This was not the fun interactive experience that I had expected. Then I was stunned to realize that most diners do not even acknowledge their server is human. Perhaps it was the location. Perhaps it was that particular clientele. But my conversations with servers makes me suspect that it wasn't just me. All of these customers gave their order to the tablecloth and handed the menu AT me (not TO me) over their shoulder. When I showed up at dinner service on my second day with a spot on my white shirt (tiny grease spot...probably from lunch) and was sent home to change...I just stayed there.

My respect for these hard working folks has never wavered.

My goal now is to be their best table of the day. I want them to smile and know that they are appreciated. Maybe I can't do anything radical like Rachel Ray's new show "The Big Tip" - where they give $1000 tips to two worthy servers and one $10,000 tip to the most special one they feature. Find it, watch it, bring tissues.

I have mentioned in this blog before that service with a smile can turn my day around...I'd like to tell you about a couple of the people I regularly interact with in local restaurants that have done that lately. Now you know, I love several local restaurateurs: Rob Pearson at Charley's (not the one with the O') and Uday from the Hot and Cold Cafe'. But they aren't really servers, so they don't qualify.

On the top of my list is my new girl Whitney at Injera on Main Street. Ethiopian food. Whitney greets everyone (but especially me) with a big smile and a welcoming attitude. She is working for a restaurant that features a cuisine that is new to Lynchburg. She recognizes that and takes the time to offer each table more information about the menu. She admits that she is a carnivore, but doesn't stop me if I decide to order one of the vegetarian dishes. She keeps my Coke filled and my attitude light. It all looks effortless - but I know that it isn't. She is pretty to look at, but it is her warm spirit that makes me walk in the door hoping she'll be there to brighten my day. And when she said that one way to remember her name was Whitney Houston, she laughed at my "crack is whack" joke and smiled when I sang a little bit of "and Iiiiiiiii will always loooooovvveee youuuuuuuu..." I should probably leave a bigger tip next time I visit.


Just down the street at Robin Alexander, I can always count on Joanie (as in "loves Chachi") for excellent service. She remembers that I like the chicken noodle soup - so even if I don't ask what the soup of the day is, she'll tell me when they have my favorite. She knows my sister will always order the sweet potato fries with raspberry melba sauce to dip them in. She knows that I think that is grossly sweet. Our drinks never run empty. She doesn't hover. My only complaint is that she is so quiet, I've been startled by her sudden appearance a couple of times. Or maybe that is just my lack of observation... Or maybe my sister (and frequent dining companion) is really loud?

One of my favorite servers is at the Cavalier. Yes, I think that Wells Duffy is also an owner...but he carries a lot of food around there - so I'm counting him in. Not everyone sees Wells as a warm and inviting presence. But they are missing the fluffy bunny within that gruff exterior. He always greets me and asks about my parents. He never fails to get every aspect of my table's order perfect (and some of my people are particular). Drinks rarely find themselves empty. And my favorite line is always delivered with his unique charm - as the basket of seasoned potato wedges land in the middle of the table: "be careful, the fries are hot." He knows that we know they are hot. We've been here hundreds of times. But I still feel cared for when he warns me the fries are hot. I still bite into one while it is the temperature of the sun...but that is not his fault.

And one more mention (though I could literally write this post all night long...there are so many extraordinary servers that I have encountered) - Nicole at Depot Grille. I wrote about a month ago about the train derailment that I was on the front lines for. I mentioned in the post that the derailment happened just after my table handed off our credit cards to pay our respective checks. What I didn't mention was that in the midst of the chaos of people streaming out of the area - Nicole found me (crouching behind a car) to let me know that she had our cards and would keep them safe. While there were train cars on FIRE less than 100 yards away, she wanted me to know that she was watching out for us. Yes, Nicole always smiles - like Whitney. Nicole is pretty familiar with my ordering habits and will point out specials that she knows I like - like Joanie. And just like Wells, she would probably warn me not to put blistering hot fries on my poor tongue. But I have to give a special nod to anyone who would stop running away from a very dangerous situation to reassure me that she would take good care of my credit card. I'm very glad that both of us survived that experience. She is pretty darn special.

To everyone who puts up with customers - thank you. A lot of us are so wrapped up in our stuff, we forget to acknowledge your service.

To anyone who does it in the food service industry - you amaze me. You do something I have found that I just can't do. I appreciate you very much.

Shop Local, Eat Local, Have Big Fun!

Tomorrow at 10:30am will be the convergence of three of my favorite things.

#1 - shopping local. My family is very aware that I abhor the giant stores like Target and Walmart. I know you can find lots of different things under one roof. I can get a snow shovel, cat food, a new DVD, cord for my phone and a bean bag chair. I'm just not sure that is a good thing. It may be a huge variety, but I know how those stores treat their vendors because a company I worked for had a client that produced a popular hunting video series that was sold at Walmart. They dictated the price point and the terms - the vendor just had to make the budget fit. And when I say they dictated the terms - they routinely demanded up to 120 days to pay. And if the hunting dudes didn't get paid for 120 days, you can see how that rolls downhill.

So I prefer to buy local. I'd rather spend a couple of extra bucks to get my snow shovels and cat food from a business owned by a guy who actually lives in the area. Does that mean there aren't going to be mass-produced goods? No. Does it mean that I can count on the factories producing those goods to treat their workers fairly? No. But I think that the likelihood increases.


#2 - being part of a cash mob. I wrote about my first experience "in the mob" when the cash mob visited local grocer Anderson's Market. The concept is simple: a group of people show up at a pre-arranged time/place to shop with $20 (or more...!) to bolster the community spirit of shopping with a local store. It is fun and has given me a reason to stop in at places that I might not have shopped at otherwise. Our last cash mob was at Virginia Garden Center where I found wonderful and healthy plants. I also discovered knowledgeable and caring staff. I plan to return there for more stuff. On another occasion I ended up downtown at a little artistic place called Pastiche. Totally cool - completely off my radar! I am quite pleased at the variety of places our mob has visited. I can't wait for tomorrow's (Saturday, June 14) spot.

#3 - hanging out in a hardware store. Oh my goodness - I do love a good hardware store. Sure, I make trips to Lowe's from time to time. Actually worked for a Lowe's vendor for about a year and spent a LOT of time in the Lowe's stores in the great state of West Virginia. I was setting new displays in the faucet repair section. I learned one thing - customers in the Lowe's stores in WV are so desperate for assistance, it wouldn't matter if the vendor vests said "Inmate" across the back, they would ask me for help anyway. Regardless of the downsides of being in a big box store (and being in increasingly random places in WV...ever heard of Logan, WV? Had to drive through the back parking lot of the liquor store to get to the Super 8)...I loved all the little boxes of connectors and washers and nuts and stuff.

I have always loved hardware stores. The smell draws me in - a mixture of lumber, metal, fertilizer and rubber. I delight in discovering all the weird little things that a hardware store has to offer. Sure, you got your bolts and nuts and screws; hammers and screwdrivers and staple guns; seeds and plants and plant food - but then you turn a corner and find kitchen tools like meat thermometers and turkey basters - turn another corner and you find plungers and brooms. It would be the best possible place to have a scavenger hunt. Where else could you possible find a step ladder, garden hose, mop bucket and replacement seal for your granny's pressure cooker?

Tomorrow's cash mob will be at Lynchburg's True Value Hardware. I haven't been there in years! I'm looking forward to finding the perfect Father's Day gift. Something like an axe handle or hummingbird feeder or pocket knife...the possibilities are nearly endless! Come join me in the adventure!!

Then perhaps I'll EAT LOCAL and make a quick stop by Anderson's for some cheese and those marshmallows that are like having Lucky Charms without the pesky cereal part!

Saying Goodbye

I recently wrote a post about the "Mayas" in our lives. I have been fortunate to encounter a lot of extraordinary people in my life. One of the first was my mentor Joe Campbell (read my post about him by clicking on his name) - he taught me how important it is to not dismiss people because they are different. He talked with artists, writers, poets, people abducted by aliens, musicians, hypnotists...lots of different people. And yet he still had time for the mental ramblings of a twentysomething.

I have written in this space before about my great friend Kathleen Sihlanick - a lady who broke the glass ceiling before anyone realized it was there.

Today I feel I need to honor another person who has had tremendous impact on my life - my Pastor, Rick Ecklund. It is with a heavy heart, because he is moving to another church very soon. The blessing and curse of being a United Methodist - where pastors are sent, not hired. I read a very amusing book recently called "The Search Committee" about a team of Presbyterians searching for their new preacher. Although I could certainly relate to the personalities of the characters (ALL churches are full of characters), this idea of a search committee is foreign. In the United Methodist denomination the conference bishop, his/her cabinet (yes, we have had a woman bishop in the Virginia UMC Conference!) and the district superintendent make the decision of who goes where.

Bishop Cho, District Superintendent
 Larry Davies and Pastor Rick.

When I was growing up, it seemed like the minister moved about every 4 years...whether that was true of every church's minister or just Madison Heights UMC, I do not know. I do know that I have become accustomed to the fact that pastors leave. There are good reasons for that process - congregations can become too reliant on a pastor, or begin to follow the pastor instead of God, or become so set in the status quo that "we've never done it that way before" becomes an acceptable response to new ideas.

Every minister that I have been blessed with has brought different gifts to the church. Some are incredible speakers, sermons challenging and inspiring the members each week. Some are great theologians, Bible scholars, educators - those have encouraged increasing knowledge of the Bible and church history. Still others bring organization skills or pastoral care or an emphasis on spiritual gifts. Sometimes it is just new blood that a congregation needs to reignite their ministry.

Though I am used to this process - this particular change (after eight years!) is going to be harder than ever. Mostly because Pastor Rick has been the first to encourage me to explore ministry from the pulpit. He and his wife Pastor Liz Ecklund (also a United Methodist minister) have challenged me to look at the possibility of ordained ministry. I am not sure what direction I will go with that calling - I am still trying to discern what path God wants me to follow. But when I mentioned it as something that had been marinating in my mind - Rick was on my side. He did not sugarcoat the challenges that a pastor faces, but he reminded me that if God wants me on that path, I can rely on him to be with me through it all.

Rick popping Jiffy Pop for a movie
night at the church. Note, he is popping
corn ambidextrously!

Pastor Rick is not universally loved by every single person in the church - people who are universally loved by everyone are usually trying to be what every person wants them to be. And that just isn't real. Rick is who he believes God wants him to be - someone focused on making disciples of Jesus Christ - and is completely real about it. When meetings get bogged down with disagreement, he reminds us of what our true purpose is supposed to be as a church: to be witnesses of Jesus Christ's redeeming love in a hurting world. And if the disagreement doesn't have something to do with that, it is petty and should not be what we get focused on.

A new stole to remember Centenary by...

I like that he is real. He is not a repeat of the last pastor, or the one before that...he has confidence in his gifts and uses them to the best of his ability. He is willing to hear new ideas (and float a few of his own) and try new things. Maybe "we've never done it that way before" OR maybe "we tried that and it didn't work." The default isn't "I don't think so" - the default is "let's give it a whirl."

Make no mistake, he is grounded in the core beliefs of Christianity. He believes that God sent his only son into the world - not to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved. He just respects that not everyone agrees on some of the details - and that shouldn't stop us from doing what we are supposed to do. Be the light. Love one another. Stop judging...that isn't our job.

Rick is a great minister - I love to hear his sermons (he preaches from the common lectionary - so I can study the scriptures ahead of time! Then I can compare my "take" on the scripture with his.), he is wonderfully caring (I can always count on him for a listening ear), he tries hard to connect our congregation with the mission and ministry of the district, conference and United Methodists around the world. I will miss his leadership. I will miss his guidance. I will miss his friendship. I'll even miss his dry Yankee sense of humor.

I'm ready to embrace the transition. I look forward to what new gifts and talents Rev. Doug Gunsalus will bring. He must be good - his last church kept him for 13 years! And I wish Pastor Rick the best as he settles into a new appointment at Main Street UMC in Bedford. Maybe he won't be universally loved there either, but I am willing to bet that it will be the vast majority that come to love and respect him...just like me.

The Mayas in Our Lives

I love this introspective gaze.

This week we lost a beautiful and talented lady...Maya Angelou. She was a person full of light, despite the darkness that so often surrounded her. She was deeply introspective and had a way of conveying that emotion through her storytelling. If you have not read some of her poetry or prose, I can't express how much you are missing. I began with I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings - like most of you, it was assigned reading in some English class. I didn't get it at first - because I was this goofy white kid who had led a pretty sheltered life and here was this woman talking about her struggles. Every time I read it, I find a new level to appreciate. It is much like watching a garden mature...tall trees lending a hushed luxury of green everywhere.

Since I did not get to know...or even meet!...her in real life, she will live on in her powerfully written words. Thanks to wonders of the internet, I can even see her sing and hear her recite Still I Rise. I mourn the loss to the world - but the most direct affect I felt at her passing was the moment I thought of some of the Mayas who have directly affected my life.

Passionate.

Deeply introspective.

Kind.

Tenacious friends.

This reminds me so much of Susan

It became apparent when a friend posted on Facebook how she would miss Maya Angelou being in this world. And I reflected on how very much like Maya this friend is. She is a free spirit, lives in some frozen tundra in California? I never realized how much it snowed in Lake Tahoe - but she posts crazy pictures of snowshoeing and bears eating bird feeders and her whole body smiles in pictures! I met her when I was a theatre rat. Hung out at the theatre ALL the time. Sets, lighting, props, painting...I was game for anything.

I met Susan when she stage managed the annual performance of The Nutcracker. And for regional ballet, these people pulled off OUTSTANDINGLY professional performances. And she scared me a little bit. But I learned how to stage manage just watching her. Those were my base skill sets for most all of my employed life - some of my favorite years were standing in the wings. She was my best friend's mom, and hanging out with them was always a time a uncontrollable (snorting milk out of your nose...) laughter, intelligent discussions...acting, singing, passion! Susan Shank Mix, one of the best Mayas in my life.

Yep, Carlton laughed just like this!

Another one was a guy, but he was definitely a Maya. A fierce educator, a defender of children's need to learn in their own way, larger than life. Carlton filled up a room with light from the moment he walked into it. He laughed fully - he would just throw his head back and howl! He gave my family (and a think a few hundred other families over the course of his teaching career) a catch phrase that helps us get along in the world: "Keep it in your head." Reminding us that we all know what you are thinking - that it isn't something helpful - so the best course of action is to just swallow it down. No need to say it. Just keep it in your head. Be the bigger person. Let it go. My sister commented on Facebook today (May 30, his birthday) that Carlton would have loved Facebook. Indeed he would have. The world lost him wayyyy too soon. He was one of those rare people who could look you in the eye and talk to you and make you feel like the most important person in the world. He and I had a chance to have several conversations during a turning point in his life - as he left his position as my sister's roommate in Richmond. He never treated me like a kid sister - I was proud that he saw me as an intellectual equal. Which I found incredibly inspiring.

People change our lives in tremendous ways. They change them in subtle ways.

It reminds me of a favorite quote from Maya Angelou. It was in the April 2011 edition of O, the Oprah magazine (had to Google that, but wanted to be respectful of her intellectual property). "You are the sum total of everything you've ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot...it's all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that, I try to make sure that my experiences are positive."

I've always kind of shorthanded the same perspective on life...We are the sum total of our experiences. Whatever you are going through is giving you something for the road ahead. Maybe you'll be able to share your life experience with someone, help them to avoid a pitfall or endure a rough patch. Be sure to soak up all the experiences that you can!!!

Thank you to all the Mayas in my life (this post would take till Tuesday if I shared everything!).

Skidding along the edge

Well. I did it again. Came close to the edge and dodged death again.

The first time I remember doing it was my first year working at Kings Dominion. I was headed to Richmond for a preseason weekend of work at the Mason Dixon Music Hall and left a little later than planned and ended up in dark driving rain. Rolled my mother's 74 Superbeetle. When it stopped rolling, my foot was on the dashboard. Oh, that's right...beetles got no dashboard. Leg was out where the windshield was supposed to be. What saved my ass then? Seatbelt. And back in those days I was horrible about wearing my seatbelt. Still not as good as I should be... I walked away. Pretty much unscathed.

Another time, I was in Canada. We were headed from Canmore to Banff to pick up one of my Canadian brothers from work. It was October. I had just arrived that day and moronically was wearing shorts. Anyway, black ice...spinout...come to rest against the center barrier. Figuring, "cosmetic damage" and about to get pointed in the right direction when the truck came up over the same hill where we had hit black ice. And so...he's headed straight toward us skidding along the same barrier we were on. All I could say was, "Johnny, get us out of here." Stupid, right? Like he has a magic wand? But all of the sudden, the truck jackknifed to the other side of the road, up on the jersey barrier on the right shoulder. Double trailer. The gas tanks by the cab blew just before it slid past us. No one was injured. The truck burned for 4 hours. We were stuck on the side of a cold highway for a very long time (unable to reach the brother in Banff, who pretty much had figured we were goners hearing reports of wreck and fire on the highway. didn't help that he was at a bar during the wait.) But once again, walked away. Still pretty much unscathed.

And it happened again yesterday. That train derailment that happened in Lynchburg? I was there. Front row seat. Glad we hadn't opted to eat out on the deck. I think I'd be in therapy if I had watched it that close. Instead I was with my co-workers from Rush Homes at a farewell lunch for an awesome volunteer who helped us through major transition. We had just finished lunch and handed off payment to our lovely server Nicole (who I loved at Jazz Street Grill and still love at Depot Grille) when we heard strange train noise. If you dine at the Depot often enough, you get used to the sound of trains passing by. I don't think it is possible to have lunch without at least one train passing. Unless you're on the deck when the brakes are squealing...eeeeek. But this sound was just weird, and sudden. And then I think there were some thuds and I looked up and saw the look on the faces of servers standing by the window at the kitchen. Something was seriously wrong. Seriously. So you stand up. You look out the window.

You see tanker cars. Not where they should be. And tangled. And on fire. And black smoke. And you think, "what the hell?" And somebody a shade more able than you says "go. get out of here. just go. now." And people go. And nobody is trampled. And nobody is screaming. They are just going. But you lose track of the people you were with. And you head where your logic tells you to go. And then you can't find the person you thought you were with. And you look at the cars and the flames and wonder how long they can withstand that heat before they blow. And take everything you can see around you out. Including your dumb ass crouching behind a car, taking a couple of cell phone pics - because, why not? Something to identify your body with.

I shifted perspective there - because that is what happened at the time. All of those times. I step outside and see this incredible thing happening around me. And I know there isn't a damn thing I can do to change the outcome. So, there I was. But they didn't blow. And we got away. Once again, I walk away. Pretty much unscathed.

There may be something I need to examine here. I can tell you...yes, I felt the heat. It was like a bonfire. (the train conflagration, not that I am headed to hell. no matter what some of you may believe!) And yes, I was unsure what the next minutes, or seconds would hold. But, nothing happened to me. Sort of.

I'm headed to the beach where I will ponder these things.

I think I must still have something I need to do, or learn in this life. I know I've blown through at least 3 of my 9 lives. Maybe 4 or 5...

Could have been a different day today, but it isn't. Just another incredible story to tell Alex Trebek when I finally make it on Jeopardy.

My Sister is a Rock Star

Haven't posted in a while. Lots of reasons but the chief one was that some of my mental energy was dealing with a situation with my sister Karen. The first born. The pretty one. Now, the rock star patient.

Ya see...that thing that touches a whole lot of families, a serious health issue, touched our family. Karen has been dealing with one of those. It would be disrespectful to disclose details. But I've been trying to notice anything useful and positive that comes out of coping with a crisis. I have noticed a lot. Here are a few.

- I didn't think I could admire my sister any more than I did a few months ago...we're a pretty tight knit family. But she is a rock star. From the very beginning of this "adventure in health care consumption" she has been a model patient. She went from consult to consult, getting a lot of complicated information shoved at her; she dealt (with some help from another great sister) a mountain of paperwork; AND she kept her positive attitude. Then, during this last few days of intensive healthcare consumption, she progressed faster than anyone could have hoped. And while recuperating - she did what Karen always does - befriends every person she comes in contact with.

Karen greets everyone she meets with a smile. She finds out their name. She uses it. Karen is just like that. She amazes me. And during her stay with the incredible professionals at UVA Health System in Charlottesville, VA - she got to know (even if only in a small way) each person that she came in contact with. I saw how she knew her ICU nurse Crystal's hometown, that one of her patient care professionals was from West Africa (I'm afraid to name a lot of names, wouldn't want to leave anybody out. Karen would be able to write this part with great detail.) I could tell with one exchange that Karen knew a young lady had a frustrating morning and that she was happy to know that the day had smoothed out for her. I'm glad I had a chance to notice that.

- I got to spend time with my brother in law. I noticed how he adores my sister. He still picks on her - otherwise she might think she's really sick. But I saw a lot of love in between the lines.

- I saw how many people will stop in their busy lives to support each other. Sure, the husband and the parents and such are there the most...but unexpected sacrifices of time from family and friends were there, too. So many people took time to reach out with an email, a card, a text, even visits! She now has balloons and flowers and a crazy-eyed stuffed fat monkey keeping her company. And a big pile of e-cards (thank you, UVA Health System volunteers!) from a wide circle of friends. I noticed that - and saw it replicated with other patients and their families.

- I got to go to Charlottesville and Trader Joe's. Hey, it's a positive... And I noticed how much I enjoyed dark chocolate covered pretzel thins.

It is easy to focus on the obstacle. There have been (and will be) times that a crisis is a wall you keep running into. For just a moment, from time to time...just lean on the wall and look around...maybe there is something positive hiding in that situation. Maybe.

hamster beaten