November 27, 2012

How to Be Happy with the Car You Drive

Over the past several years I've written a variety of essays for the Art of Manlinessa truly excellent webzine with a large following.

Recently, I've come aboard as a regular contributor, meaning I'll be contributing an original article to them once a month.

Today's post is just up, titled "How To Be Happy with the Car You Drive," a lighthearted--though somewhat poignant--look at the various vehicular stages of a man's life.

See the post HERE or copy and past the following URL into your browser:

http://artofmanliness.com/2012/11/26/how-to-be-happy-with-the-car-you-drive/

I'll be back next week on this blog with a new post, same as always.

If you're just arriving here from the Art of Manliness site--Welcome!

Please take a few moments to look around and read some of the archived articles. Subscribe via the upper right hand box to receive new posts via email.

If you're the type of person who wants to lead well in your personal and professional life, then this blogs for you.

November 20, 2012

Introducing “Still LoLo,” by Lauren Scruggs with Marcus Brotherton

 
Come meet the toughest girl in Texas.



Lauren Scruggs is her name. She’s 24 and I’ve just collaborated on a new book with her, along with her parents and twin sister.



Newly released, the book is called STILL LOLO: a spinning propeller, a horrific accident, and a family’s journey of hope.


In December 2011, headlines around the world reported the heartbreaking story: Fashion journalist Lauren “LoLo” Scruggs had been on a short flight to look at Christmas lights, in a small plane piloted by a family friend—and as she exited the plane, its still-moving propeller hit her head-on.



As Lauren was rushed to the hospital, fighting for her life, the world watched in horror and fascination. Media clamored for news on her condition. Her CaringBridge site received more than 1.5 million hits. People around the world were eager for updates on her progress, or simply left notes of encouragement, saying that they found her story inspiring, and that they were rooting for her full recovery.



Several major surgeries and thousands of prayers later, Lauren lived. But she lost her left hand and left eye.



Some thought that this would be the end of everything for her, a beautiful young woman working in an industry completely focused on appearance.



They could not have been more wrong.



Even while she was in the hospital, heavily sedated and in a near-comatose state, Lauren began the fight to come back strong.



In early March I flew to Texas to interview Lauren and her family. I toured the crash site, saw the plane she flew in the night of the accident, and accompanied Lauren to the gym where I watched—awestruck—as Lauren cranked out full pushups, one right after another, as part of her rehabilitation therapy.

Photograph by Stephen Vosloo for Tyndale Momentum

This is a young woman who should not have been alive.



Three months earlier, on the night of the accident, the paramedics who treated Lauren later told reporters that when they arrived on the accident scene, the extent of Lauren’s injuries “took their breath away.” With the large amount of blood she’d lost, the lacerations to her head, and her skull fracture, the first responders thought for sure she wouldn’t survive.



In STILL LOLO, Lauren fearlessly steps into the public light for the first time since her accident. She reveals what really happened that night, how she survived against all odds, and what her life is like today.



We reconstruct the accident moment by moment in the book, and chillingly show how it could have happened to anybody.



Lauren is unflinchingly honest in the face of some incredibly difficult questions: What kind of future will I have? Where is God in all this pain? Will anyone be able to love me now?



And she calls us all to live a life without fear—to overcome whatever challenges threaten to limit us and discover a new dream, a new day, a bold new future.



Containing never-before-published photos and personal stories from Lauren and her family, STILL LOLO is a compelling and fiercely beautiful account of faith, determination, and staying true to who you are—no matter what.

 
 

"...a beautiful read..."
—Giuliana Rancic, anchor E! News

 

"(Lauren's) attitude, joy, and faith are daily reminders of what I aspire to be."
—Tony Romo, Dallas Cowboys quarterback

 

"... a story to strengthen and encourage the weary heart."
—Matt Chandler, Lead pastor, The Village Church, Dallas

 

“(While reading this book) I smiled, laughed, and cried ...
(Lauren) is a beautiful ray of sunshine, and I am glad to have her as a friend."
(From the foreword)
—Bethany Hamilton, Soul Surfer

 

See Lauren ...
 
 
 
on NBC's DATELINE
 
 
on PEOPLE Magazine
 
 

 The book is available at all major book outlets and online.

 

November 13, 2012

How to Navigate a Lean Season

It’s fair to say that many people go through at least one season of financial difficulty sometime in their lives.

It’s often part of the ladder-climbing experience when just starting out. Or it occurs between jobs, or is due to an injury or downed economy.

The season, although difficult, can actually hold forth much benefit. Call these benefits surprising silver linings, lessons learned from hard times.

About ten years ago, in my mid-30s, I officially opened my own editorial business.

Five months later, my business officially failed.

What followed was what my wife Mary Margaret and I today call “our lean season.” We weren’t poor by global standards—we still had a roof over our heads and ate three meals a day.

But by G8 standards, we were broke. We were uncertain about how to pay our bills, in danger of losing our house, and fearful and stressed about our immediate and future financial situation.

During that winter, I applied for more than 80 jobs. I went on interviews, attended job fairs, networked with business owners, and passed out copies of my résumé by the dozen.

Blame the collapse of the newspaper industry. The field was flooded with hungry, well-credentialed journalists looking for work. Time after time, the answer was no.

Today, almost a decade later, Mary Margaret and I talk with people who have experienced similar lean seasons. We have good friends, for instance, a surgeon and his wife, who tell about the few years in medical school right after their daughters were born. They lived in an apartment with rats.

This is what we learned about lean seasons from talking with others, and also from our own experience.


1.      You discover you have good friends

 
Some people experience financial difficulty and react by feeling embarrassed. They clam up and try to keep up appearances of financial success. 

 
We chose to go other direction. We openly talked about our situation with the people closest to us, seeking their emotional support and gleaning their advice.

 
It’s funny. Word gets around, and weird things begin to happen. Someone brought us ham. Another person fixed our car for free.

 
If you’re normally in the position of being self-sufficient, it can feel strange at first to receive the kindness of people in your community.

 
But it didn’t feel like a hand out to us. It felt like a hand up. People knew we would do it for them if needed, and it was simply our turn to receive.

 

2.      Your character gets shaped for the better.

 
I don’t look back and speak about our lean season with fondness. Those weren’t “the good old days,” and, no, I’d never want to go through that time again.

 
But out of that season came good. It created empathy with people who struggle financially. It created a good type of humility, a recognition that we’re all in this life-thing together.

 
And it created an appreciation for the simpler things of life. I remember when my wife and I were finally able to afford a $40 Costco membership. We literally whooped and gave each other high–fives.

 

3.      Desperation can become one of your greatest allies.

 
If you have a job you dislike and dream of doing something different, it can be easy to continue on year after year. You’re filled with angst, but your steady salary makes it difficult to walk away.

 
Desperation can provide the courage needed. The same is true if you’re flat out of work.

 
During our lean season, I became fearless in how I approached my job search. I’d talk to anybody, anytime, about any opening.

 
I’d brazenly ask people for career-oriented favors—either to be introduced their boss or to put in a good word for me about an opening.

 
Ultimately, my desperation propelled me to create my own job. Several months later I restarted my editorial company. And the second time around, it succeeded.

How about you?
 

Have you ever gone through a “lean season?” Perhaps you’re there now. What have you learned along the way?

November 5, 2012

Hail to the Chief

Dateline: day after election, everywhere, USA


… and another thing, Mister President ... Just wanted to say congratulations, shake your hand and all that.

It’s been a long, hard election season, and we voters have done a swell job raising complex questions with no easy answers. Even though we’d like those easy answers to exist.

So solving all the problems of the world is your job now. Yep … now that you’re in office we want our presidents to fix, fix, fix.

Let’s get on with business, alrighty?

I wonder if you could do something about the economy. Do it quick. We need jobs, and we need them bad. Higher wages all around would be nice too … particularly for me.

And it would be swell if you could end all the wars around the globe. Every war that’s ever happened is the responsibility of the POTUS, so keep our military small and politically correct, while still protecting our domestic and international interests—okay?

By the way, Mister President, you need to make sure we’re well respected in the world. Not seen as arrogant, because we don’t want other nations thinking we’re strutting our stuff. But we need to be seen as powerful—really powerful—even to those dictator types like Chavez who only understand power their way. So could you sort that out please, Mister President?

And, Mister President, would you put it on your agenda tomorrow to stop global warming? Man, I’m sick of taking vacations in the rain. I want a president who ensures no weird weather from here on out. Your new middle name needs to be Mister Sunny Days President. No crop failures. No hurricanes. No famine or pestilence. Never.

And another thing, Mister President, would you puh-leez fix health care? I hate spending more each month on health care than I do on my mortgage. But for goodness sake, don’t do what the Canadians did. If we’ve got the flu, we want to be able see our doctors more than once in five years. Well, maybe you should kinda do what the Canadians did. You know—make health care ABSOLUTELY FREE and all.

Could you make sure America stays Middle Class? Keep out the Mexicans is what I’m talking about. And the Pakistanis, they’re starting to worry me. And anyone with the last name Ahmadinejad. But I don’t want to carry a passport when I fly. And I don’t want to be profiled. You’re really starting to press my civil rights, Mister President. So just watch it, okay?

This time, don’t have sex with your secretary.

And don’t record anyone talking about you in the hotel next door. All right, buddy?

Don’t bow to the Chinese ever again.

And—good grief—learn how to correctly spell potatoe.

And another thing, Mister President—don’t spend any more money. Keep those thousand points of light as small as possible. But make sure the roads are fixed, the schools aren’t shuttered, and no child gets left behind.

Oh, and Mister President … could you … for once … be cool? This time, I want my president playing bass guitar. Bass guitar players are always cool.

Thanks Mister President. It’s gonna be a great next four years.
 

Question: What do you hope the president accomplishes (or not) in the next four years?