A Business Year in Review

It is the end of 2009...thank God it is over! It didn't start out that well, but it is ending fabulously. It was a year of learning, connecting, challenge and grounding for me.

2009 started off miserably: The company was in the middle of a giant cash-flow problem that started around October. We had resorted to using all of our sales income to fund production for the next month, and worse, we couldn't take care of short term debts and payables. It was ugly and the CFO and I were getting terrible phone calls, e-mails and office visits from vendors we owed money to. What do you say to people who in good faith shipped goods to us, but now had to wait for payment? All I can do is to tell them the truth...I didn't have the cash to pay them, but they would be paid when investment came in. I think January and February brought 4 different law suits and numerous collection notices. The CEO seemed to not be fazed in the least, living as he normally did, avoiding all reality. January was a great month in one way...the break-even plan the CFO and I put into place was working and instead of burning $350,000 that month we only burned $27,000. The CEO quickly took credit for that and announced to the trade that we were now cash-flow positive in hopes that any investors still interested in us could find some good signs in our announcement. He also found new ways to spend that cash (exactly what cash?)...ramping up the PR and marketing machine once again.

Important lesson #1: Even when you are faced with severe cash issues, stick to your principles and tell people the truth. There is no need to lie.

2009 Continued miserably: Late in March, our old investors decided to help with a small influx of cash...at a ridiculous 100% interest rate! Way to show us how much faith you had in the company guys! That cash was quickly consumed to pay off our most serious payables. That month we also violated our supply agreement for our most important raw material...against better judgement. I had given the CEO one request back in Jan. I needed him to re-negotiate our supply agreement BEFORE we went outside the contract to save money. I could find the raw material at a savings of almost 30% per pound...of course I would take the savings! He waited almost 3 months before jumping in. As the COO, I was supposed to manage the supply contracts, but as my relationship with the CEO soured, he decided that I was not in the best position to renegotiate. I had found numerous violations from the vendor to allow us to negate the contract, which was my advice to him. Kill the original contract and if the vendor could match outside pricing, then negotiate a new deal. The result of his renegotiations? A 15% commission on any material we bought outside the original agreement AND an extension on the supply agreement into the following year. The CFO and I shook our heads...not only did he eat up half our savings, he wed us to this small time supplier for another year.

Is that a ray of hope I see? The spring brought investor after investor to our offices to see if there was anything left to get in a deal. It always ended the same way...each financial representative asking why we weren't at break-even after 4 years of operations. (As a reminder to you all, this is what I have been preaching since week 3 of joining the company) How do you answer that? The CEO kept saying the same misquoted line from our largest investor, "We were lead to believe that topline sales growth was more important than bottom line growth and sustainability." Let me decipher that biz speak...it is better to grow sales while sacrificing profitability and any hope of having a business long term. Funny thing is, he really believed that. He didn't care how much money we lost as long as we could grow sales. Charged with that mission, the sales guys focused on getting the purchase order, rather than on profit. Luckily one potential investor was not scared off...and continued to discuss the opportunity of acquiring the brand. Later I discovered that every single executive that had a say in the deal gave it a thumbs down...all except one, their CEO. He was mesmerized by our CEO and his ability to sell. He did have that one talent...he could get you to believe anything, and was passionate about it. He may not have had the business chops he needed to run a company, but I will give him credit for his sales ability. He could sound convincing, he could sound right, he could sound like this was the best thing for you. So they kept at the due diligence. We kept at the smoke and mirrors.

Important lesson #2: Believe the data, it can't lie. Listen to your advisors, they are being paid to think and to make good decisions for you.

The hope grows: Even after 3 months of digging, uncovering and our feeble explaining, the investor continued toward a close. The CEO promised everyone jobs...against being advised not to promise anything by the investor and by the CFO and I. He was also working his personal deal with the acquiring company. By this time, all meaningful responsibilities were removed from me. Since I still wanted to maintain my principles and could not violate supply agreements and contracts, the CEO decided that only he would run the "sensitive" areas of the organization. He changed ingredients, juice claims, and formulas to meet whatever promises he had made to the acquiring company. "Why yes, we have the highest antioxidants on the market. No, the competitor's products are mislabeled, we clearly use more juice than they do." I managed the production schedules, oversaw the bottling runs, and made sure my suppliers were paid. I hoped a deal would go through to end my misery. I stayed for one reason: There were people in the office more susceptible to office politics and they needed a buffer. I chose to stay to maintain a good office environment, to help them through some tough times, and to help them transition to the acquiring company's expectations. I took the month of July off to go to Kenya with a mission team. While I was gone, the CEO changed the labels to show that we had a higher level of juice than the competition...but he didn't change the formulas, just the label. He waited until I was gone, then bullied his co-founder, the CMO and CFO into complicity. The formulas were finally changed, but only after the new acquiring company nagged me on a daily basis for what was promised in the deal. Surprisingly, the formulas that I finally got were very different from what I had prior to leaving on vacation. When the VP of production at the acquiring company asked me how these formulas ran on the production line, I told him that I didn't know...I had never seen them before. He was dumbfounded and wondered aloud what was going on in our company. I mentioned to him that not only are the formulas untested, the costs were out of line. When I told him that they were, he laughed and said, "That isn't the worst part, your CEO just talked our Sales Execs into a price reduction." So now we were taking down both price and margin at the same time. He ran that up the line to his boss, and I got a swift dressing down by the CEO, natch.

Important lesson #3: The people really are the reason for a company's success or failure.

The Deal goes through!: Months of worrying and scurrying ended with the signing of a deal in August. The CEO's promise of employment for all was sadly mistaken. Only he, the co-founder, and sales group were retained. The rest of us got the boot after transitioning our responsibilities. The total amount of the deal was also kept quiet, and 50% of the cash was being held in escrow for 18 months to settle any and all legal issues. The CEO got his cash, and everyone else has to wait 18 months for theirs...if there is any left after paying legal fees and corporate fees for the old investors. His poor co-founder got screwed more than the rest of us put together. He had been promised founders shares from day 1, and faithfully worked his butt off for the ungrateful, selfish and greedy founder. At one point he worked without pay to help with cash flow, hoping that his unselfishness would be noticed and rewarded when the cash out came. With nothing in writing, the co-founder got only what was approved by the board...his worthless options. Memory fades quickly when cash is involved. Truthfully, I am not counting on getting anything for my two years of enslavement. I expect the old investors will submit their exorbitant fees to "administrate" the old company, and I expect the lawyers will siphon the rest to settle the lawsuits. But I would have donated any proceeds to my non-profit group anyway.

Important lesson #4: Get it in writing!

It gets better...you just have to wait: An old friend offered me a consulting project to help him develop his business and to provide technical help for his flavor company wherever possible. I appreciate his generosity and entered into a 3 month contract. I work 3 days a week at his factory providing technical and business development help where I can. It has been fun helping him identify ways to get his flavor company to grow. He is graciously figuring me into his budget for next year in a bigger role, but unfortunately it is in California.

So the year is ending on a positive note. Mercilessly, the new acquiring company let me go. They were generous and professional and I appreciate how they handled things. I hear that sales are slumping, costs have risen, and they are having supply issues with their contracted suppliers. Who would have thought?

Life is really Yin and Yan. While I write this negative experience to unburden my heart, I have the exact opposite experience with SmartCup. It has been a year of immeasurable successes, great experiences and heart-warming interactions. The balance that SmartCup was able to provide for my life is a salve that I could not have survived without.

Important lesson #5: Find the balance.

I hope all of you have a great New Year's celebration and don't get too caught up in the resolutions thing...it isn't that important to identify what to change, just be open to good change next year.

Chow!

Thanksgiving 2009

I am not sure where to begin in my annual thank-you letter to God and others that have made an impact on my life. A timeline of events might work, but that could be messy. I will just dive in...

Thank you God for how you have taken care of me in uncertain times. For how you have given me what I need, when I have needed it. Your grace and love for me is acknowledged and undeserved by me. Thank you for trusting me with the blessings you have given me, and in the way you continue to bless me.

Thank you Lori for continuing to stand by my side as my wife. You support me, encourage me, and tolerate my bad jokes. You have the hard job of holding down the fort while I am gone, and you do it without complaint!

Thank you to Jeff and Melanie for giving me less to worry about. Your level of maturity, responsibility and growth as adults gives me a measure of confidence about your future. I will never quit worrying about you, but I am worrying less. Now just get yourselves to church a little more, please?

Thank you to my family for constantly encouraging me, supporting me, investing in me, and for believing in me. I feel an extra burden of responsibility to make sure that your belief in me is justified.

Thank you to SunnyD for buying BN earlier this year! You put me out of my misery in the kindest and most generous way possible. I was almost to the breaking point in terms of patience towards others. The buyout also freed me up to do some things that I really wanted to do...like start a company.

Thank you to my partners, Kent Rhodes and Jeff Baccetti. You two support me in every way possible as we build SmartCup. It can seem tough at times, but it is fun, the challenges are amazing and the results are all worth it.

Thank you brothers in Kisumu, Eldoret, Mombasa and Malindi, Kenya. The work you do with so few resources continues to impress and inspire me. I want to give more to CRF because of your unselfish ways. The way you love the orphans and care for them is from God, there is no other explanation for it. I hate the way others try to take advantage of you, steal from you, threaten your lives, and scare your families. I wish it were an easier life, but I am thankful that I know you and can call you friends.

Thank you Linda Purdy, for all you do for Christian Relief Fund. You lead a tireless group in an uphill struggle on a daily basis. Thank you God for continuing to bless this ministry and its work to take care of children around the world who cannot take care of themselves.

I have made so many new friends this year through my business connections as well a through travel. I am thankful for each of you. I have learned from each interaction, encounter, and conversation. I am inspired and amazed by each of you. My Kenya buddies: Julie, Karen, Audie, Cheryl, Chase, Christian, Laura, Olivia, Amy, Holly, Micah, Sandy, John and Connie, Bekkah, Jason, Eric, Thomas, and Dave. My SmartCup associates: Jana Branch, Scott Greenberg, Bob Hill, Sandy Brawley, Bob Wilson, John Clair, and Brett Schaeffer.

I believe the first Thanksgiving was more like this than what we have made it...it isn't about stuffing ourselves full of turkey, or about kicking off the holiday shopping sprint, or, dare I say, about football. It is about giving God a big Thank You for blessing us, for caring for us, and for delivering us from our struggles. It is a time of thanking others that make an impact on our lives, and for giving us hope.

Be thankful daily, and watch your life change!

Chow!

The Crazy Life

I thought I would be able to relax after being downsized in August. Nothing could be further from the truth. Since being emancipated from the "King of the Amazon", I have been busier than ever. I can't seem to say "no"... Plus I have to keep the lights on somehow.

I did take a short break in August. After finding out I couldn't rent out my condo (some hokey by-law in the Condo Association docs), I decided to put it on the market and find a part time consulting gig to make payments until it sells. It was definitely a downer because I had hoped to move back home permanently, and having that taken away was hard. So I spent 6 weeks in Seattle at home, then drove back to LA to start working.

This consulting project is very interesting. I am working for a friend who owns a flavor house, and luckily I know that business. He is an entrepreneur through and through so he also has a million other ideas that he wants me to commercialize. There are some good ones, and some not-so-good. My role is to help where I can with these initiatives plus manage the technical labs. The staff is great...all hard-working, friendly and helpful. It hardly ever goes that way, but I will take it! The commute is not so great...1 hour each way in traffic. Bleah! I know why road rage was invented on the LA freeways. The things you see daily are enough to curl your toes!

Besides consulting, I am helping get a couple of companies off the ground. Both need investment, but both are market winners. I can't wait to see how they turn out. One is an invention that will re-set the coffee world, and one is a ready-to-drink beverage that is uniquely positioned. Let me know if anyone wants to plunk a couple of million bucks behind either of them!

I have to sit down each morning and make 3 different lists of to-do's, because I need to keep them all straight. Each requires a different set of skills and are at different stages, so it can get confusing and time-consuming. It feels like I have 3 full time jobs.

But I would not have it any other way. What I have learned about myself over the last 12 months is this: 1) I have skills to offer small companies that are just starting out, and 2) I love the excitement and energy of a start-up. No more corporate job for me unless it is a position where finding and buying these types of companies is the job responsibility. I wish it had steadier income (or income at all), but the risk/reward juice is intoxicating.

Stay tuned for updates and news!

Chow!

The Between Journey

Last Sunday brought a close to 20 months of interim preaching by Jeff Berryman. He entitled the series, "The Between Journey". It was designed to bring our congregation together so we would be ready for our new lead minister. He did a great job. NW Church was so ready to receive the Goldman's. We reflected on the things that are important to God, things that we may have been neglecting. I felt ready to welcome a new minister.

Now I have a between journey of my own. I find myself between jobs. Not to make light of this, but I think my between journey is to do the same thing...until my new permanent role comes along, I need to focus on things that are important to God, things I may have been neglecting.

My last position was sort of transitional...as I was hired to help get the company either a new investment or sold. I neglected some things that I normally never do at work, since I thought it was temporary. I didn't battle hard enough with the CEO on ethical issues that I normally would have, and let some things slide. For the sake of office peace, I let him do what I would normally not have allowed. Don't worry, it wasn't anything illegal, just "gray", when I am usually black and white. After a while, I was hoping for a quick transition and couldn't wait for the deal to get done so I could be rid of the negative feelings I was having about the company.

However I did they job I was hired to do and we were sold last month. I learned a lot about myself after 18 months of helping to run a small company. I can no longer work in a corporate world. I like the fast-pace and uncertainty of a start-up. I know it sounds weird, but that kind of excitement is really energizing. Especially if you are good at it, and I like to think that maybe I was wired for this type of environment.

So what next? The day I let people know I was done with my old role, I had a bunch of people call me to present opportunities to me. I even got an offer from a vendor that I had withheld payment from for over 5 months. Wow, was that unexpected.

He claimed that even though he was angry at me, I handled the situation respectfully and truthfully with him, and I saved him some money. He had threatened to take us to court,and to hand our account over to a collection agency. Each time we spoke, I assured him we would pay, and that any of those choices would cost him more money than if he waited for our financing to come in. I guess I made sense to him, and when I made good on my statements, he was confounded. I guess he wasn't expecting me to make good. In fact, all our vendors got paid the day after the deal was signed, as promised. It shows that even under the worst conditions, principles and ethics mean a great deal.

Sorry for that sidebar...

It has been a busy August. I returned home to Seattle in mid August to decompress and to reintroduce myself to my family. I began narrowing opportunities down and decided to pursue these two:

Opportunity number 1 is a company I started with a couple of partners. It is called SmartCup. The company is based on an invention a friend of mine has registered with the US Patent Office. It is a disposable French Press lid. It fits on a standard 16 oz paper hot cup, and behaves exactly like a French Press...drop in ground coffee or whole leaf tea, add hot water, soak and then press down to separate the grounds from the beverage. After enjoying your beverage, you can toss the entire cup. We have created a mass producible prototype and are in negotiations with a couple of coffee and tea retailers. Consumer testing has been amazing to date, with everyone loving the taste of the product. We are gearing up to soft-launch at the National CoffeeFest Show in Seattle later in September. Come vote for us at the New Tech competition!

Opportunity number 2 is a job with a company that two of my friends in Hawaii started last year. They finally got me to agree to join them in running it. It is called Indulge Hawaii, and the product is Plantation Iced Tea. Plantation Iced Tea is a beverage that has its roots in the vast sugar cane and Pineapple plantations of Hawaii. The workers used to drink a refreshing mix of iced tea and Pineapple Juice. My friend Byron decided to make a Ready-to-Drink version. I helped him gratis for the past year or so with some marketing strategy, but he and his other partner went out and made it happen. I couldn't believe how quickly he brought it to market and then got a display at Costco on Oahu! They have since grown the business to include Univ of Hawaii, top resorts on the islands, and now Whole Foods in SoCal. It started on a shoe-string budget and continues to be run on one, so until we get financing, we won't be able to get the word out very quickly or broadly on this delicious Hawaiian treat.

The good news, both of these opportunities require me to remember the principles that God has written on my heart.

To keep the lights on, I will be working with a friend in LA 3 days a week. He has generously told me that he will use me as long as I want to work for him. I can't have nicer business friends.

I feel ready to welcome the next opportunity...

Chow!

The "Beach Boys"

We had a rare day to relax on our last full day in Kenya. Since we were in the resort town of Malindi, we thought we would hit the beach and just walk out to the reef at low tide. Dave and Thomas Bartanen, Julie Rawlins and I decided to risk a walk to the reef and the breaking waves about 200 yards offshore. No such thing as a relaxing stroll on the beach. As soon as we left the protective wall of our hotel, we were set upon by the "Beach Boys"; a roving band of young men intent on selling you something...anything really. They offer an astounding array of goods and services: tourist souvenirs, other trinkets, glass-bottom boat rides, deep-sea fishing excursions...and on the darker side of things, hookers and marijuana.

Malindi Side Story (sorry, gotta do it!)

Malindi has changed. Once a sleepy little fishing village (the world's best billfishing), it has transformed into the Bangkok of Africa...and that is not a compliment. It is now one of the leading sexploitation destinations in the world. Visitors from Europe come to Malindi in search of the bizarre and forbidden: underage sex partners. Malindi is now being run by the Italians, who discovered the resort-like weather and white sand "sugar" beaches a decade ago. They began putting up resort hotels and started booking vacations for fellow Italians. The language is now

spoken by most in Malindi, and the tourist signs are all bi-lingual; English and Italian. How long before the Mafia discovered Malindi? Not very. The business of prostitution has exploded along with gambling and drugs. Places like Kenya have an abundance of unemployed youth, leading to exploitation. It is sad to see young people turn to a life like this just to survive. The government turns a blind eye because of the influx of revenue.

Okay, back to our story...

The Beach Boys made it hard to walk in a straight line. Since they couldn't sell us anything, they went into their Beach Tour mode. Their methods seem innocent at first. "Jambo! Welcome to Kenya, my friend. How are you? Where do you come from? How is my english? Can you help me to understand it a little better? Do you want to experience the beauty of my beach? I can show you many things. Here, we have prepared a nice walking path through the rocks to the reef. Let me lead you. Don't step in the Turtle Grass, there could be a poisonous stone fish there." Non-stop. If you tried to ignore them, they were prepared for that as well. "Everyone needs friends, we are only trying to be friendly. We don't expect anything from you, but to be your friend. How can you refuse our polite invitation of friendship?" They quickly pick up our names as we converse with our own small group, and from that point on they call us by name, or by a nickname they gave us. Our small party of 4 required 12 guides!! Each of them chose one of us as their personal target...mine was Phillip. I told him up front that I had no money and that I was only going to walk to the reef. He assured me that wouldn't be a problem. I wondered why it took 12 of them to guide us, so he tried to shoo 8 of them away to no avail. Phillip figured out my name, my son's name, where I was from, what nationality I was, and why I was in Africa. He gave me a nickname..."Papa Jeff" because I was the father of Jeffrey.

Poor Julie...everytime she wanted a picture, 6 or 8 of them jumped in singing their Jambo song. "Jambo, Jambo Bwana. Habari Gani, Mzuri Sana...plus she was worried that we were going to get mugged by their larger number. After about 15 minutes of the assault, we gave up and let them show us the reef. They were actually quite good at finding things: Cowries, shells, starfish, moray eels, crabs, etc. The only thing we didn't see was an octopus, but they assured us they could find one if we just followed them further down the beach. They wanted us closer to where they all hang out on the beach. It is a small collection of huts with souvenirs, drinks, and more Beach Boys. I could see where that was going, so I figured we needed to get back to our hotel beach. We turned back and as we approached the hotel, their pitch changed tunes..."if you could only buy something small from me, I will be able to buy lunch. I am starving and this is how I make my living. Just one small thing, or pay me some small fee for giving you an excellent tour." The closer we got to the hotel beach, the tighter they encircled us. They milled around in such a way that they blocked us from the wall and ultimately, the safety of our hotel. Good ol' Dave had 1200 shillings and promised each of them 100 when we got back safely to our hotel beach. He didn't have 12-100 shilling notes, so he asked them to pick one representative that he could give the 1000 shilling note to, who could break the bill for each of them. They actually were able to pick one guy to trust. When Dave made his offer, they all rushed Dave to get paid and I motioned to Julie to run for the hotel. She made a beeline for the hotel wall and made it safely. Our relaxing walk was anything but...

I made the mistake of mentioning to Phillip that I enjoyed young coconut water. He offered to bring me some if I could wait. There were coconut trees all around, but he wasn't allowed on the property to climb them; he had to run to the bush to get to a free access tree. He said that it would take an hour to go. I said I couldn't wait, so forget it. He then asked me for bus fare to get the coconuts...again, I said no. He then said he would run to get them, and asked me how many I wanted. I told him if he were to go, I would want two. I then went to the very peaceful hotel pool to cool off. About an hour later there is a commotion on the beach. "Papa Jeff!" I hear someone calling out of my nickname. I see Phillip jumping high in the air to clear the hotel security wall, waving coconuts that he has gotten and cleaned. I couldn't believe that he had come back! Thomas was wondering what was going on, so I sent him down with a 100 shilling note to get two of the coconuts. He came back with two of the most delicious coconuts I have ever had. We all agreed that it was worth the price. It definitely was a win-win for all parties. Phillip had two more, but I was out of money. Ah well.

It seemed like nobody but locals could enjoy a walk on the beach. One mzungu (white) woman walked unmolested on the beach and we asked Phillip why she wasn't being mobbed. Phillip said she was crazy, and called her an unsavory name. Turns out she was living in Malindi and didn't want to be harassed by the boys.

Here is one more story to demonstrate the negative effect the whites have had on Africans. Our money continues to enslave them in what I would term, unnatural trade. Instead of fishing and living humbly, they sell us their services however they can...as tourist guides, sex partners, and even as a temporary friend.

Chow!

Simba, the overweight Lion

One of the things I love about my African friends is their generosity. They are generous to a fault. They give the best of what they have without thought or concern. Whenever we go to their homes for a meal, it is sumptuous...quantities that could feed twice the number present, the best that they can afford and more.

Our group was feted during Sunday worship in Eldoret, Kenya. Each of us Americans was called up by name while a church elder gave an introduction of the visitor to the large crowd present. They regaled everyone with stories of each of us that had previously visited, and for those first-timers, they extended warm thanks for their love and generosity. Each of us was given a meaningful gift. Milton, our fearless leader, was honored with a giant carved wooden lion, his wife Barbie got a georgeous hand-beaded necklace. Julie, the other CRF board member was given a nice wooden giraffe, which quickly earned the nickname of Geoffrey. Everyone in our group got something, with the ceremony of giving the gift as important as the gift itself.

My gift, was especially well-thought out. It was a beautiful soapstone carving of the world map, with Kenya in the center of it. It had a beautiful wooden stand for display purposes. Francis was telling the story of how we started the work in Eldoret together 2 years earlier, and the map represented my travels around the world helping others, but that my heart was in Kenya. It was touching, and he beamed with pride at his selection of the perfect gift for me. However, during the elaborate presentation, it was accidentally dropped on the table and it broke into 30 or 40 small pieces. Obviously flustered, the crowd of Africans tried to quickly piece it together. Unsuccessful at that task, they just handed me the largest piece left. Part of Europe, all of Africa, it was the thought that counted in my mind. It did not bother me a bit, but it embarrassed the elders. We had a good laugh over it, and I didn't think about it again...even though one of the cooks warned me that it was extremely bad luck. She had a deadly serious look on her face. She actually went to the elders to tell them of the misfortune.

Like I said, I didn't have a second thought about it until the morning we were to depart for Kisumu. Francis took me aside after our parting words and songs to talk to me. We said our personal good-byes, hugged and then he dragged me by the hand to his car. He took out a box and presented me with a replacement gift...a beautiful soapstone Lion. It was large, impressive, and a work of genuine African artisanship. He and the elders of the church had felt so badly that my plate was destroyed that they wanted to replace it with something of much greater value. My estimate at the price of this statue put it at two weeks wages for one of them. Far more generous than they could afford. I humbly accepted this gift and named him Simba (Swahili for Lion). He is beautiful...a rosy pink colored stone carved into a roaring lion figure.

There was just one problem with Simba...he weighed in at 5 kilos (11 lbs). We were preparing to leave on a plane that only allowed my baggage to weigh a combined 20 kilos. And here Simba would be 25% of all my allowable weight! I wasn't sure what to do...I didn't want to hand carry Simba for fear of breaking the soft soapstone carving. I couldn't check him in my luggage because he took my total weight over the max. I ended up carefully packing him in my backpack, and moved my books and other non-essentials to my suitcase. I was just at 20.5 kilos on my check-in, and at 18 kilos on my carry-on. Dragging Simba all over Africa was a chore. He crushed everything I put in my backpack with him...ask Julie about how I had to eat my destroyed Rolos...haha.

It was my great fortune that Julie had actually been thinking ahead and had brought a roll of bubble-wrap with her to Africa for just such occasions. She knew we would be bringing back fragile things for the silent auction fundraiser at Christmas. I got an empty box from the Nakumat and re-formed the box into a shape that would protect Simba. I first wrapped him in bubble-wrap and then formed the carboard into a semi-rigid box around him.

Simba only caused one security line snafu. He caused one screener to pull my backpack from the conveyor and inspect each and every pocket. I guess Simba looked like a giant solid mass. The security screener was about to rip apart the packaging when I begged her not to. I told her what it was, showed her one of his legs, and she let me pass.

That lion made it safely back to the US and is right now proudly guarding the dining room hutch. He will make a wonderful auction item and should fetch a great price. I toyed with the idea of keeping him for the sentiment and the memories, but Simba will serve more people as an auction item. For the auction, I will rename him, "The Lion of Judah"...Francis will like that.

Chow!

Dreams of a young girl

Our Christian Relief Fund roots run deepest in Kisumu, Kenya where we have had about 5 years of operating experience. The work there is centered in the Nyalenda slum, where over 500,000 people call it their neighborhood. The Ring Road Orphan's Day school has over 500 kids from 1st to 8th grade attending daily. They get 3 meals a day, a good education, healthcare, clothing, and as much love as we can give them. That is still not enough, but they seem to make do, and are thriving.

This trip we purposed to repaint the entire school building inside and out. It started out as a huge moving and cleaning project as the building was scrubbed top to bottom in anticipation of receiving a fresh coat of paint. I was put in charge of cleaning walls on the inside. One thing about these kids, they love to help. I don't know why, but they will hang around you watching you work a scrub brush and then somehow take it out of your hands to finish the job. They are not afraid of hard work, and never ever complain. I need my American kids to see this for themselves. My work crew consisted of 3 pre-teen girls. The ringleader was Marcy, a 6th grader. She and her two friends were helping me scrub the walls and remove any tape or glue remaining from the posters we took down earlier. As we worked we talked. They mostly wanted to know about life in America. They asked me about my family, my house, my kids, on and on. No details could be left out; they wanted to hear it all! So I told them what life was like in the US. They were eager to come to the US to thank their sponsors. So I started asking about their sponsors. Marcy is sponsored by a group of college students from Tennessee, her friends by individuals in Texas and Washington. Marcy told me how much she loved her sponsors and wanted them to come visit her in Kenya to see how she was doing. The girls then started talking about prior visits groups had made to Kisumu...they remembered each and every one of us by name. It was touching to hear them talk about us in such loving ways. 

I asked them one other question. I asked them what they dream about for their lives. One girl dreams to be a doctor so she can work at the local VCT (AIDS Clinic) to help her neighbors. One girl wanted to be a teacher at Ring Road or another school. Marcy wants to be an engineer. Her dream is to tear down the slum and create affordable good and nice housing. She doesn't like the way the slum is old and ratty. She dreams of nice houses like what she hears about in the US. I told them I was proud of their dreams. Marcy continued on...she told me that she has been at the school as a sponsored orphan for over 3 years. She came as a 9-year old after her mother died. She told me that 3 years ago she couldn't have dreams. She was trying to survive, and her dreams consisted of thoughts of food and the endless hunger she felt. Because of her sponsors in the US, she was fed, clothed, educated and she felt loved. She said she can change her dreams because of people she doesn't know, yet can still love. It is amazing how small gifts like monthly sponsorship can accomplish big things. That $22 each month that a sponsor sends for these kids really does change a life. Marcy is testament to that. She giggles and laughs like any pre-teen. She has awkward moments and is easily embarrassed like the child she is. But I don't know many 12 year olds that have changed their view of life as much as Marcy has. 

I didn't get to spend enough time with this remarkable girl, but the 2 hours we spent together will be with me forever. I hope all 3 reach their goals. I pray that their sponsors continue to put a priority on them during this tough economy. 

If you want to help, I urge you to sponsor a child through Christian Relief Fund. (www.christianrelieffund.org) There are hundreds of children like Marcy on our waiting list. They currently watch the goings-on at Ring Road from beyond the gate because they aren't sponsored. It breaks my heart to see them look on the activity at the school and want so badly to come in. Maybe their dreams can be changed too.

Chow!

"Chef" Larry

Okay, here is a funny story from Africa. My stories from Africa will run the gamut: emotion-packed, humorous, political, serious, religious, and personal. This is one that had a few of us laughing for most of our trip. 

Part of our "service" work on our trip to Kenya was to prepare and serve a meal after Sunday service wherever we were at. My turn in the kitchen was to be on our first Sunday in Eldoret, Kenya. 

Eldoret is one of CRF's newest projects, barely 2 years old. We started that work after my last visit. The project leader, Francis Bii is a rock-steady man that is accomplishing a ton with a little support. They are currently feeding and educating almost 2oo AIDS Orphans in the immediate area. So naturally we wanted to do whatever we could to lift their spirits, and for me, nothing works better than a good meal.

Our plan was to help their church members cook a big meal in celebration of our visit. We paid for food enough for all their church members and some visitors from the neighborhood slum. We were told to plan for 500 people! Our menu was a typical East African meal: stewed chicken, greens, potatoes, stewed mutton, rice, and beans. While services were going on, we cooks slaved over hot charcoal fires stirring mountains of food. A typical kitchen in Africa is not outfitted the way a western kitchen is. If you need another burner, start another fire! If you need a pot to cook in, move something out of the pot you want and put it in another container, any container! Hot pot holders to pull giant vats of cooked food off the fire? No such thing...find some cardboard, fold it up and hope it doesn't burn through to your fingers. Air-conditioned comfort? Nope, stand by the window and hope a breeze comes through. Waist high counters to chop veggies on? Get real! In Africa you bend over and chop everything on the floor! Now that I have painted the scene, we will get to the story.

Cooking everything in time for lunch required perfect timing, rushing around, and lots of choreography of moving food from pot to storage container. We were moving in a well-choreographed manner. 3 huge tubs of beans, 2 equally large tubs of perfectly cooked rice, 2 pots of potatoes, one giant one of greens, and one each of mutton and chicken stew. I had cut my finger earlier, and had a bandaid put on to help protect it from the heat, salt and other things that could possibly infect it. Finally it was time to serve everyone. A long line of people formed and we began dishing food out as quickly as we could. It was hot, thankless work and my back was killing me. I had seen the food prepped and cooked, so as my western pals moved through the line, I was warning them which foods to stay away from. For sure the Chai...I was watching them brew pot after pot of tea with milk and sugar and then dumping it into a large 20 gallon jerry can. I was pretty sure the can had been previously used for storing Permethrin, a very strong pesticide. 

I was on rice detail, and well onto the second large pot of rice when I noticed a sharp burning sensation whenever the hot rice touched where I thought my bandaid was. After the crowd started thinning, I looked down and noticed that the bandaid was missing!  Somewhere in that crowd of 500 people someone got a surprise in their meal. I hope they noticed what it was and didn't continue chewing when they found it!

I was finished serving and was chatting with my friends Julie and Milton. We were commenting on how the food was prepped and held for service, and I mentioned that I lost something during the serving of the food. Julie asked me what it was and I told her about my missing bandaid. I thought she was going to pee her pants she laughed so hard. She had to tell Milton, who also laughed uncontrollably. It may sound disgusting to many of you, but the humor in all of this for those of us that were there comes from the setting...chopping vegetables on a dirty floor, cooking over an open fire, the unsanitary conditions of it all...and one lost bandaid. Throughout the rest of the trip, whenever we wanted a laugh, we would mention the lost bandaid. Even now you will see references to it on our FaceBook pictures...now you all know the inside joke.

Chow!

My New Friend Chase

I met a new friend on my Africa travels. He is warm-hearted, generous, hard-working, faithful, funny, and I believe he loved his time in Africa. He is a young man with awesome potential. His name is Chase. I promised some stories, so Chase is one of them.

Here is the interesting part, Chase had zero interest in coming to Africa with his mom. He was being "punished" by his parents, or so he thought. He didn't go into too much detail when I asked him a few days into our trip if he was glad to be in Africa. Instead he asked me back, "Did my Mom tell you I didn't want to be here?" I fibbed a little and said, "No, I was just making conversation." Here is the truth: his Mom didn't clue me in, but others on the trip had. He followed up with, "I REALLY didn't want to be here. In fact, while we were in Houston making our connecting flight to Amsterdam I begged my Dad to let me come home. He wouldn't let me." I asked him why his folks were making him come to Africa. He mumbled something about "his attitude" and something else, but I could tell it was something he didn't want to get into, so I quickly changed the subject, sort of. I told him if he were my son and had asked if he could come home, I would have told him to start swimming. We laughed at that one. From that conversation I knew I needed to help Chase connect with Africa...to experience a life-changing voyage. He needed to see what kind of life of privilege he lived, and how much he took it for granted. From that point on, I made it my business to make sure Chase experienced a little bit of everything. Whenever we met a new group of Africans, I made sure Chase gave a little introduction of himself. Whenever we had thought-provoking opportunities, I always asked him his thoughts. I wanted him to learn about the culture of Africa, so I shared with him as best I could about the people, the customs, the food (partially unsuccessful), and the country. I hope he learned how to travel internationally from me.

We became friends on that day. I enjoyed his company and our conversations. I got to know his mother, and in a way, she introduced me to her husband and Chase's father. They are great parents.

I think America has too many distractions for our young people. There are so many choices and unlimited opportunities that our kids take all these blessings for granted. There is no struggle for our daily bread; it shows up on our plate whenever we are hungry (or not even hungry). They obsess about their appearance because they can, and they worry about what others think of them because they are thinking the worst about their peers.

In Africa, the struggle for survival is truly life and death, and it shows. The joy young Africans show when they get a good meal (one with meat included) is real. Watch a group of young people when you give them a used, ratty soccer ball to play with. They are excited because now they don't have to play with a homemade ball made of shopping bags and twine. When you see this and compare it to your life in the U.S., you begin to understand how good you really have it. Ask an African orphan to show you his worldly possessions. You will be shocked at how little they have. It might be a ragged stuffed animal that was given to him 2 years ago on your last trip. It might be a picture of him that was given to him years before. It will be as well cared for as possible. Privacy? What a joke...the average orphan sleeps with 2-3 others in the same bed.

I think this is part of what Chase experienced in Africa. First and foremost, he learned that kids are the same everywhere. He played basketball and soccer with some of the boys his age and the competitiveness and trash-talking was the same. The language might have been different, but nothing is lost in translation when someone questions your abilities. He hates to admit it, but I think he also learned that sometimes Mom and Dad do know best. He needed to come to Africa to reset his moral compass. He needed to see that what he thinks is difficult is nothing compared to the difficulties he saw in the slums. Wealth? Compared to his orphan counterparts, his family is blessed beyond measure.

The best lesson he learned is that people love him all over the world. His new friends from Seattle, Kisumu, Eldoret, and even Amarillo love him a lot.

How long will these lessons stay with him? I hope a lifetime. But I also know that it is too easy to get caught back up in our world of excess everything. I am praying for you Chase!

Chow!

Back from Africa

My friends have been asking me how my trip to Africa was. It is hard to explain it unless you have gone to a developing country to help. It is hard to share experiences that are difficult to describe, explain, or understand. The easiest way might be just to share stories that happened along the way.

First of all, I continue to meet amazing people on my travels. The people in Africa amaze me at their dedication, resilience, and pure faith. My fellow wazungus (whitey) also amaze me with their selfless service, love, compassion and generosity. 

I am learning new things every time I go to Africa, some of the lessons are harsh and not very pleasant to learn, but they are so very vital.

Lesson #1: Money is a curse as well as a blessing (duh!)

I guess I better explain this one a little more with a story. Our second Sunday we found ourselves worshipping with a very small congregation in Malindi, Kenya. This church was started by the Karabu family...12 brothers and sisters that live locally and work with the less fortunate. Two of the brothers decided to start a school on a small plot of land near the church. It is constructed of mud, rocks and sticks, but almost 200 kids between 1st and 4th grades attend. The church has a fundraising, or Harambe every month or so to meet the expenses of the school. We happened to be attending on Harambe Sunday. The fundraising part would be in the form of a food auction. Bid on various food items and win. They also add a fun element to the proceedings. They can accept up to 4 high bids, and then pick a winner through a raffle method.  So, first up was a dish of Kuku stew and Ugali (Chicken and polenta). You could buy the dish outright for 200 shillings ($3), or 4 people could put in 50 shillings a piece and they would pick a winner out of those 4, and the other 3 losers go hungry. I decided to just buy a plate and give it to three orphan boys who had no money to bid. I did the same with 5 hard boiled eggs (20 shillings each).  At one point I held up a 1,000 shilling note and told the auctioneers that I would pay 100 shillings for every ripe mango they could find. They brought me a basket of 40 ripe mangos! I had to find 3 other people in my group to help me pay for them all. I then just started handing out mangos to the crowd gathered. 

It was after this Mango Madness that I first noticed the women were getting a little agitated with the process so I asked one of the elders what was up. He explained that the white people in our group were bidding too high, and the villagers could not participate. For example the plate of chicken and ugali normally goes for 5-10 shillings per share (4 bidders getting a chance). We had driven the price up to 5 times the normal level! The locals were worried that there wasn't going to be enough for them to win! So we quickly changed the situation by stopping our high bidding after a plate or two, and letting the locals have the remaining 5-6 platefuls. Their overall donations were up because of us, but so also was the stress and hard feelings. Our attempt to be generous was causing issues because the locals couldn't keep up, and it was important for them to support their own school cause. It was an eye-opener for me. 

Africans are willing to help, but if we don't let them, they will just stand on the sidelines and wait for us westerners to jump in. If we set the parameters too high, they won't feel involved nor empowered. 

Be on the lookout for more stories and lessons...

Chow!

Empty-Nest

My youngest just graduated from high school over the past weekend. It is a strange feeling to realize that the house will be empty most of the time now. It has been slowly happening for a few years now, but the finality of it all hit me on Saturday night as I was cleaning the patio after her party. Our life as parents of "dependents" is over. Sure, they will always be our kids, and need something, but they are not dependent solely on us anymore. 

I worry that she is not ready for this type of independence...but then who ever is? When I look back over the past 18 years, I don't want to even admit that she is ready to go. One of our traditions is to make a "Then and Now" board of pictures to show friends and family at the party. There are various pictures of the kids that have eerily similar snapshots of them much older. Melanie playing dress-up as a 5 year old juxtaposed to her prom pictures...sniff, sniff. Melanie in her blow-up swimmies vs. her on the podium at a swim meet. You get the idea...I was amazed at how her interests have remained constant over the years...music, swimming, and culture. 

The most fun I had was talking to adults that know her from her school or at work. To hear their comments about how responsible she is (really?), how confident, smart, clever, diligent, etc. puffs me up with pride. She was selected as the John Phillip Sousa winner in the music department...huh? The band department head spoke of her ability to play almost any instrument with confidence and skill. He asked her to move to tuba this year, and she has excelled. He loved her attitude, her willingness to help her fellow students, and her dedication to being a great musician. This is the girl I can't get to remember to turn her lights off in her room. 

Her senior project was so well accepted not only by the school, but also by the town council of our hometown! I was surprised in an amazing way. More adults want to hear her presentation, buy her book and get to know her because of the topic she selected and the work she put into her project. She even has a job offer for the summer from the Burien Historical Society. She will be presenting her project to the Town Council of our hometown later this summer. She is gaining experience presenting in real situations to high-level officials. I can't be prouder of her.

I can't wait to see what kind of adult she will become while away at school! 

Her graduation party was the highlight for her. She was afraid it was going to be a small affair with just family present because many of her friends were already committed to other events that evening. Well, she still had a crowd of about 40 show up. We almost ran out of food! No, I am kidding...a Wu never runs out of party food. I planned a great finger-food menu of Teriyaki Chicken Wings, Vietnamese Spring Rolls, Larb Lettuce Cups (never heard of them? Yum!), my Fried Chicken Macaroni Salad (Double Yum), Grilled Shrimp, and sandwich platters. For dessert we had cake (of course), a CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN, and later, S'Mores on the patio. We set up the Guitar Hero and had battle after battle. Kids, adults, everyone played. She was impressed with the party and was gushing with thanks to her mom and me...that was a first. She was actually pleased with the outcome! We didn't disappoint her! WooHoo!

I think her pleasure was really based on the fact that it was all about her. She has always felt that she lived in her big brother's shadow, but this week was about her accomplishments, and she finally realized that she measured up. Not that we have made those comparisons, but she had, and she is happy with the results.

Like I said...I can't wait to see how this springboards her to success as an adult. This was the perfect ending to her HS career...now she has the confidence to know she can succeed in college.

Chow!

Where did the time go?

Crap! Leaving for Africa in 6 days and not ready yet. Last time we went to Kenya, I had weeks to prepare and ready my mind, organize my projects, and plan a worthy agenda. Not this time. Too much going on with family events (Melanie's graduation from HS), work events (getting a deal closed), more work events (trying to help a friend start a company), and even more work events (helping another friend start another company). 

I want to bag it all, take two weeks off to meditate, and then figure things out, but I don't have that luxury. It isn't about me anyway...that is what I have to keep telling myself. The busyness of life is Satan's way of keeping my mind off of what is true religion...helping orphans and widows in their distress.  Too often I justify the busyness of my life by calling all this interest "God's blessings". I am not sure that is the truth. I AM sure of what is the truth...the work we do with Christian Relief Fund with AIDS/HIV orphans in Kenya, Tanzania and other places in Sub-Sahara Africa. 

I have 6 days to focus my heart and mind on that. It is tough...everyone seems to want a piece of me lately. 

A group of 6 of us leave Wednesday the 1st of July for Kenya...a group of 13 from Amarillo, TX will join us in Amsterdam along the way. Our mission is to help several groups of AIDS orphans and the men and women ministering to them. Francis Bii in Eldoret is a saint. In two short years (since our last visit), he has fed, educated, cared for, and ministered to hundreds of orphans in the name of God. He is not only taking care of the orphans, but entire villages affected by disease, drought, political strife, or just plain hunger. I am amazed at how much he does with so little we give him. So, when we land in Eldoret, the 19 of us are going to do a few things: 1) build desks for the school he has started; 2) maybe buy the school for him; 3) fund another microfinance project or two; 4) just show him some love to let him know he is not doing things in vain, and that we notice.

The rest of the time we will be back at our favorite place, Kisumu, and the Nyalenda Slum. Jared Odhiambo has turned part of that large slum into a refuge of education, healthcare, spiritual warfare, and normalcy for hundreds of AIDS orphans. The people there need us to help them figure out what is next for their little community...how do we expand what they already do well? How do we commercialize things to make them sustainable? Again, we will turn to Microfinance to see what can be done for the people. We will also do some housekeeping and paint classrooms, repair things, and re-stock supplies as necessary.

I am excited to go. I am unprepared, which is unlike me. I hope a wave of panic hits me soon and drives me to get ready! For now, I need to clear my mind of the clutter that has filled it lately, and focus on what is real.

Chow!

Not Sure Ray Kroc Had This in Mind...

The post on my FB wall needed a little deciphering, "Wuster, are we going for a McGangBang or McWhitey before I have to eat sensibly again? I am out of here on Wed..." My friend Matt from the UK was in LA visiting our mutual buddy, Jana and he was tired of eating healthy foods. Why he turned to me for help in eating unhealthily boggles me. Earlier in the year we had a FB conversation about a controversial McDonald's non-menu item circulating the blogosphere. We jokingly said we had to try it. That time had come.

Jana was in no mood to join in on our grubfest, so we left her in her jammies (at 6 pm? c'mon Jana!) to seek the mythical meal. I guess I'd better describe the objects of our quest: Legend tells of a mythical meal that can be ordered at McD's...a McGangBang. Not your politically correct naming convention, but attention-grabbing for sure. Born from late-night, after party, post drunk feasting (as most of these monstrosities are), the McGangBang is two sandwiches shoved into one jaw-stretching beast. It is built from a Double Cheeseburger with an entire McChicken sandwich inside. Yes, the whole thing...bun, beef, cheese, bun, chicken patty, lettuce, mayo, bun, beef, cheese, onions, condiments and finally another bun. Yeah...someone says, "bring on the Plavix!" 

But where does one begin the quest to slay the mythical beast? We began our search a mere 6 blocks from the home in Santa Monica. Too refined, we thought? What better test of an urban legend than to try it here. Remember, I did say my buddy Matt is from the UK, so we played the tourist role. Camera-ready, full British accent tweaked, we approached the counter. "We would like a McGangBang, please." Tony, operating the register blinked once, twice and then cleared his throat..."wha?" This time slower, with descriptions and hand gestures, "you know, the secret menu sandwich." Still, no response. He kept pointing to the menu above him, saying "I think you need to order off the menu, we can't make that." Jaime the manager walked by and asked if Tony was having a problem. We asked Jaime the same question, "can we order a McGangBang?" Jaime has been around the block so he knew exactly what we wanted, "Oh yeah, two burgers, cheese and a McChicken?" Hallelujah! He shoved Tony aside to show him how to ring it up. He said, "We have been getting a few of these orders every week." Then he went to the back prep area to show them how to put it together.  Then Matt stumped him...he asked for the McWhitey sandwich. Even though he hadn't heard of that one, Jaime was game and asked us what that one was. We explained carefully that it was two Filet-o-Fish sandwiches with a McChicken sandwich in the middle...extra tartar sauce. So, bun, fish, cheese, tartar, bun, chicken patty, lettuce, mayo, bun, fish, cheese, tartar, and a bun on top. Jaime's fingers were a blur on the register as he punched 4-5 buttons to get this one to ring up. Most of the rings are from the Dollar Menu, so it is a pretty fair value. Our total? Around $11 for the sandwiches, fries, and Jaime threw in for drinks. What a guy. The girls in back were laughing as they built the sandwiches, but our quest was almost over. Mission almost-accomplished.

Okay, the ordering is done, food has arrived. It is beautiful to behold...well not beautiful, maybe more like a wonder to behold. Jaime and crew packed them into the largest sandwich cartons they had. "For here, or to go?" How does one eat a multi-layered sandwich on the go...definitely for here. We quickly decide that I would try the McGangBang, and Matt would tackle the McWhitey. We would share a bite, but we would each own a conquest. A quick prayer of thanksgiving (no really!), and wade on in.

The McGangBang is as expected...almost too big for my mouth (I can hear my friends laughing now). But the flavor is very good. The chicken just adds a bit of "fried" flavor and a little tougher texture to the double cheeseburger experience. It is delicious. One has to do a little smooshing, or compacting to get it bite height, but the cheese holds it together. A few pickles add a nice tartness to the flavor that is just right. Matt has promised to go "unprotected" next time...that is the term for a spicy McChicken in the middle. 

The McWhitey is still fish-dominant in flavor. The height surpasses that of the McGB because of the thickness of the fish filet. The chicken is lost in all the fishiness, but the eating quality is still acceptable. We will pass on this one in the future.

So, Matt and I put an urban legend to rest...you can order a McGangBang sandwich from the secret menu at McDonald's. Don't forget to be nice to the manager.  

Chow!

College Entrance Stress

Lori and I got the best news parents of a soon-to-be high school graduate can get...our youngest just got into the college of her choice (and my alma mater), The University of Washington in Seattle. We let out a collective, "whew" when that acceptance letter came. We are proud of her for getting in (I think her mom gets more credit for her acceptance than she should). She actually was 4 for 4 in college acceptance, but the UW was her tough application...the other schools were of a lower tier (Univ. of Oregon, Univ. of Hawaii, and Western Washington). I thought her chances were less than 50-50. I guess I'd better explain why.

Melanie is smart, sometimes too smart to listen to anyone. She had straight A's through her sophomore year, and when she needed to perform in her junior year (THE key year as far as college applications go), she didn't get it done. Her counselor (that is a separate blog entry) suggested that in order to really stand out from her competition, she should take Advanced Placement classes. Her mother agreed...I was the lone skeptic. "If the counselor suggested it, it can't be wrong." was the explanation used to successfully argue a double dose of AP classes first semester. Melanie was enrolled in AP English and AP Math. Here is the result...AP English "D", AP Math "C". Her 4.0 GPA was now a more pedestrian 3.9. The plan backfired. Instead of helping her college applications, I imagined her applications being tossed aside. It is too easy to blame the "mean" teacher...her failure was not listening to what assignments and work was due when...not writing it down, not organizing her schedule...blah, blah, blah. I was livid, and I let her (and her mother) know. Her SAT scores were okay...1900 out of 2400, slightly higher than average. She did letter for 4 years in Varsity Swimming, but that was it. So that was my reasoning for a less than 50-50 shot at getting in. She did have a killer essay, well-written, descriptive, personal, and entertaining. 

My opinion on the strategy for getting into college is simple: 1) high GPA, 2) good SAT scores 3) Varsity Sports (at least 2 letters), 4) Outside activities: church, community, work, etc., and 5) an excellent "personal statement" essay.  No need for AP or Honors classes...especially in your senior year...it doesn't help during application time. If you insist on AP and Honors classes, then show up and get an A! I wanted my kids to have fun their senior years...we all get "senioritis", just plan for it! I think the key is #5...nothing sets you apart from every other valedictorian, 3-sport superstar than the essay question. I believe the essay helps the evaluator put a personality to a featureless application. The numbers (GPA and Scores) just weed the massive pile of applications down to a manageable number. It is the rest that helps define WHO the kid is, and will they add to the college atmosphere or detract from it.

The stress on her mom was much heavier than it was on the girl. Secretly, I believe we all put her chances at less than 50-50. Lori had the application process memorized and was constantly nagging Mel to get her stuff done. My memory of my college application days (waaaay back when) was simple: I did all the work, I looked up colleges in the college guide, I sent away for application packets, filled them out myself, asked Mom for a check to include with the application, and mailed them off. My parents interaction in the process was limited to discussing (or arguing) what choices I had made, and then having them write the check for the application fee. I doubt my folks knew what classes I was taking; their only focus was on the grades. Anything less than an A called for a frank discussion with me, not the teacher. That's Asian parents for you.  I doubt my folks even knew I had taken SAT's! Seriously! I had to keep my own schedule of application deadlines, etc. 

Our involvement today in our kids' college application process is nothing short of complete, it's as if we are the ones going to college. We fuss over the quality of their GPA's, we stress over which classes our baby Einsteins should take, we argue with teachers that dare give our darlings a grade lower than WE want. We even pay for classes to teach them how to take a test, and we plan a special diet for the day of the test. I have friends that are even asking for strategies now, and their kid is only a 10th grader.  I guess this is another trait of "helicopter" parents. We want our kids to have advantages, and we will stop at nothing to gain a little advantage over everyone else's kid. Problem is...it is the kid that has to show the initiative and no amount of energy from the parent is going to change that.

MY SAT test day went something like this: The alarm went off, I hit "off" instead of "snooze", woke up late, rushed through a shower, scrounged around for 2-#2's, rushed out the dorm without breakfast, and took the test. No prep classes, no prep booklets, no practice tests, no special protein snacks and brain juice during breaks, and no special studying of the dictionary for help on the verbal section of the test. My results weren't great, but getting into college wasn't as competitive back then. I didn't consider re-taking the test to bring my slightly above average score of 1100 (out of 1600) up. With my 3.92 GPA, my weak test scores, my decent sports abilities (3 Varsity Letters), okay outside activities (work, volunteering), and forgettable essay,  I was able to get into 4 decent schools; UVA, UW, Univ. of Florida, and Univ. of Tampa. I was wait-listed for William and Mary. Not bad for an under-achiever! Ha ha.

Don't get me wrong...I am proud of her for even wanting to go to college. I am proud of her accomplishments, her talent, and her brains. I am proud that she got into all the schools she applied to. I thank God for the blessings he put on her. I know it was more than her grades, scores and application. There is a reason she is going to the UW in the fall...to get her pops Husky football tickets! Go Dawgs!

Chow!

The Magical Kogi Truck

One of the fastest sweeping trends to catch LA all in a Twitter has to be the Kogi trucks. All the rage; it is now cool to eat from a taco truck. They look like a typical "lonchera" or lunch truck hawking tacos and burritos, but that is where the similarity ends.

Kogi trucks are the brainchild of a Korean restauranteur in LA's trendy Westside. His fusion "Korexican" cuisine can be found at Alibi, a cozy bar in Mar Vista. Taking it to the streets is the Kogi mission.  It is a blending of two cultures and capitalizes on something yummy from each: LA's love of taco trucks and their cheap, but good eats meets Korean spiciness. The combination, previously unconsidered is magic to the tastebuds. The Kogi truck has a limited menu...4 types of tacos and an equal number of burritos, plus the chef's special of the day. The taco meat choices are: beef short rib (minus the bones), spicy pork, spicy chicken and tofu. Covering the taco is a type of cabbage-based slaw. It is best described as chopped cabbage marinated in kimchee juice. Garlicky, fiery spicy with a little vinegar tang. The combination of a griddled corn tortilla, the flavorful meat and the spicy cabbage is amazing. The same meat goes into the burrito choices, along with eggs, cheese and hash browns. Yes, I know it sounds weird, but trust me on this one...it works. 

The lines at the Kogi truck are crazy long. Average wait is over an hour. Kogi has leveraged the "supply and demand" curve to its benefit. The Kogi truck is only at its designated spot for a couple of hours, and getting to that spot early enough for lunch or dinner is the key. Prepare for a wait...comfortable shoes and good company. The line can be a social networking opportunity as well because you have a built in conversation starter...the food, the line, and the location. 

Here's the marketing genius of the Kogi trucks...you can only find their location through Twitter. Sign up on Twitter, find the Kogi truck site, and they will then "twitter" you with the latest locations of their two roving trucks.  Businesses looking to generate some foot traffic to their locations are begging the Kogi trucks to make a stop. I think they could charge to show up and make bank. 

Here are the signs that the Kogi phenomenon is becoming a cultural trend...it is developing its own community of followers and has some unspoken rules to participate: Don't take too much foil for take-out. Don't order too much food because it seems selfish. Clean up after yourself and don't make a mess at the site. Let the cops to the front of the line so they don't hassle Kogi. 

My first order at the Kogi truck included one each of all four tacos. I couldn't decide which I liked better. My expectation was that the short ribs would be my favorite, followed closely by the spicy pork. Nope...I LOVED the spicy chicken the best. The flavor of that griddled dark meat chicken melding with the garlicky spicy marinade was delicious. The tofu was slightly fried to give it some flavor, and it absorbed the juice from the slaw fairly well. The short ribs and spicy pork didn't disappoint, but the chicken just outperformed it all. The special of the day was a Kimchee Quesadilla...which I heard was delicious from a fellow Kogi fan, but I am not that big of a Kimchee fan anyway. 

The prices are reasonable...$2 per taco and $5 for a burrito. Not bad for LA. But give yourself lots of time. We got to the location half an hour too late and waited 90 minutes just to give our order and another 25 for the order to appear. There were a couple of huge orders ahead of ours, and the crowd gave those food hogs a hard time for ordering way too much food. Two people had each ordered 6-8 peoples worth of food. Boo! How inconsiderate, and the folks in line let them know that they had crossed the line of impropriety. 

Go Kogi!

Chow!

Trust Issues

Everything lately seems to be pointing to one key value in my life...trust. Who can I trust? Who can I rely on? Can I be trusted? Why the testing? It is hard to get into too great of detail, but let's just say that the key word for me lately is that one.

I believe myself to be a trustworthy individual. I have always prided myself on being able to give people my word, and then follow through with those promises. My wife thinks I am too trusting of others, and I let others take advantage of me. I just might be a little too trusting, but I am also a firm believer that things even out in the end. I am also quick to enter into "trusting" relationships because I believe myself to be a good judge of character. I believe I have a good reputation; one that friends and business associates are willing to extend themselves on.

Now from that firm foundation I find myself in a different situation. Professionally, small cracks are starting to appear...I find myself saying things in a deliberate, purposeful and scripted way. It is hard for me because I am usually a "shoot-from-the-hip" kind of guy. I tell it like it is, and that's that. What's different is the fact that now more than just my job and career are on the line...I have broader and deeper responsibilities that involve others' jobs, careers and futures. It is a much tougher position to be in. I have to be careful with what I say, measured in how much I reveal, and my words carefully chosen. It has been explained to me that I now have "fiduciary responsibility." I find it a lonely and much too guarded of a place.

I am asking for more trust from others, without giving it in return...that is a strange feeling for me. My true inner circle of trusted relationships is shrinking; yet it appears as if I am bringing many more into it. They believe they are in that inner circle, but in reality they may not be.

I realize that as you read this you are wondering what sinister plotting is going on...relax, it is nothing that serious. It is merely a change in philosophy for me...one that is taking some getting used to.

My favorite lawyer joke:

Q) How can you tell when a lawyer is lying?
A) His lips are moving.

How can you tell when I can and can't be trusted? Ask me to look you in the eyes...

Chow!

Sadness...continued

5 years old is too young to die. She didn't even get a chance to start school. Her parents won't get to gush over artwork for the fridge let alone watch her grow up to be a young woman, wife, mother, successful business person, dancer; whatever dreams they may have had for her. She leaves behind a faithful, loving family that deserved a little girl to raise and love. Her little brother will barely remember her. She is survived by great-grandparents, grandparents, all her aunts and uncles, and by her parents. That just doesn't seem right, or fair.

What a weekend...we spent Saturday morning at a funeral for a brave little girl who has had cancer most of her life. You wouldn't think a child that young would have lived much, but judging by the size of the crowd that showed up for the celebration of her life, that kid lived a lot. She had the heart of a lion, with steely courage rarely shown in adults let alone a 5 year old. She accepted her fate without anger, self-pity, or tears. She only knew how to give love and acceptance. Her last week was spent reassuring her parents that she was ready...not only was she ready to see Jesus in Heaven, but she asked her parents to give her letters to take with her. That was how she let her parents know she was ready to go.

Sadness? Check out the parents. Compassion? No words can comfort them right now or ever. Stumble over something vague and meaningless, hug them and move on through the receiving line.

If I go back a couple of weeks to my first blog entry and read about how underrated I think sadness is, I feel stupid right about now. I do not know what to do about Jenna's death, and Chris and Michele's sadness. How can I show the kind of compassion I blogged about? How do I take on that kind of burden? Did I cry my guts out at that funeral? Yes. Did my hugs and awkwardness help them at all? Not a chance. So what do I do to honor her and help them?

I spent the rest of the weekend thinking about it. This is what I came up with. I will let Jenna's life inspire me. One of the profound things the minister said during the eulogy; and was confirmed by the nurses and volunteers who ministered to Jenna, was that Jenna had great parents, the best in the world. I cannot say that I am a good parent let alone the best parent. I will use the sadness and compassion I feel right now to become a better parent to my kids, their friends, youngsters I know and do not know. That is how her life can be celebrated by me. She knew she was loved, and had that love to give her confidence to love others. I need to let the younger generation know that I love them unconditionally, that I am there to help, not judge them, and that my love isn't going to be based on how well they perform.

Not very concrete, but it is a start for me.

God, I do not understand your need for Jenna right now, but I have to accept that you know better than I do. Amen.

Chow!

Magical Inaugural Feelings

I am amazed at the overall feeling of hope being displayed in America during the week before tomorrow's inauguration. I was wondering how this week would be going if it were McCain about to take the Oath of the President of the United States. I seriously doubt it would be causing any blips on blogs, in the media, or in people's hearts. Bono? I think, no! HBO? No way! If anything, AARP probably would have hosted a party in his honor, but Rock Star status? Never! Obama is a frickin' Rock Star!! His speeches are heartfelt and seemingly unrehearsed. He doesn't need rehearsal because he believes what he is saying and he probably wrote it himself. I have heard only one better speaker...Howard Schultz, the founder of Starbucks. The master communicator, Howard is able to paint a picture with words that you can see, feel, and get behind. Obama has that same quality...speaking eloquently and truthfully with no crossed fingers behind his back.

President Obama has galvanized a nation before he has even spent one day in office! He will get the entire west coast up at 6 am to watch this magical day unfold. It feels as if the world is changing, and we are all in the front row to watch it. Better yet, we can help drive it. Will he get everything done? Nope, not even close...but his true victory has already happened...he has re-energized a nation with hope about its future. We already believe the world can change...we are ready to serve when asked.

Okay, this would be expected coming from a Millennial, but heck, I am a Boomer! And better (worse?) yet, a dyed-in-the-wool Republican Boomer! I was one of those converts as soon as Obama announced his candidacy. I was worried when he went up against the Hilary political machine, but somehow justice prevailed. Quick shift in subject...what would this inauguration be like if Hilary had won? I don't think there would be that same feeling of hope, but a whole generation of young women would feel empowered to change their world, and a bunch of us old guys would be pissed off. That polarizing effect was her downfall.

So I am going to bed early so I can get up and watch the spectacle live...no Tivo for this Boomer! Like Michelle says, I am proud again to be an American! You white people just don't get it! Ha ha!

Chow!

Is Sadness Underrated?

Yesterday Pastor Brad continued his weekly series on how to find ourselves...if you are Christian, you know the drill...to truly find yourself, you must lose yourself, etc. I have heard many, many sermons on this subject and thought I had a good understanding of the concept until yesterday. He has been picking specific words to talk about, and yesterday's word was, "compassion". As he was defining it, he said something that caused me to pause, and wonder about, so I will share it here. That word was, "sadness".

We spend our lives trying to avoid being sad. We actively seek happiness; we don't want any problems, we try not to cry, we avoid situations that cause us to think about hardship, death, etc. It is a word and emotion that we avoid. We believe the answer to living our lives actually is to seek the opposite of sadness. Here is the rub that is causing me to think more about it. Without feeling sadness for others' situations, we may never get involved, and without involvement we cannot show true compassion. That word is defined by our actions to help and change situations for others. Sadness as a feeling is such an underrated emotion.

What would we be like if we actually sought out sadness? To actively seek the suffering of others, recognize it, understand it, and be moved into action by it. How much more could we grow and mature if we did? What if we embrace our sadness and have it motivate us to action?

Why is God so attracted by our sadness? I think it is because it is at that point where we realize we can't control what is happening in our lives; that we are losing something (or even someone) we have put an immeasurable amount of value in. God wants to fill that void, he wants us to see and seek him at that point. Maybe we become the essence of God when we react to others' sadness. The root of compassion is empathy put into action.

Chow!