Now that’s a lotta kale.
So I’m two years into the grand experiment: Let’s run some marathons, eat some kale, and see if we can keep up with the five-year-olds.
So far, so good. I’ve trained smarter, and run more miles than ever. I’ve been eating stuff I never imagined I’d love so much, and regularly see good news on the scale, and on the mile splits.
The kids still wear me out, but breathing is easier, sleeping is easier, and most importantly, waking up is easier than it’s ever been. I don’t get up with the sun; I get up, run several miles, then watch the sun rise, thinking “What kept ya?”
This only happens once. In your lifetime.
Tonight both of you are going to bed after a warm bath, maybe some cookies and a story, and it will seem like just about any other evening. But this one is different; this night is your last one in a world of relative freedom and fun.
As soon as you step across the threshold into kindergarten, your life will change forever. And as the guy lucky enough to be your Daddy, I know I’m supposed to offer a few words of encouragement, maybe look up what Martha Stewart says to tell your kids on this occasion, and go with that.
But I can’t.
I am not a big fan of dog poop. There, I said it.
I’m sure that puts me squarely in the majority, at least I hope so. I hate seeing the leavings of our canine friends all over the sidewalks and playgrounds, even in those cute little blue bags.
Actually, those bags are just the beginning. It was the behavior of a dog owner I recently encountered at a local park that prompted me to write this.
I finally got through my skimming of Deborah Harkness’ “A Discovery of Witches”. Yes, just a skimming. It’s unreadable.
You may have heard of it. While not exactly Harry Potter, it is among the phalanx of fantasy stories that inevitably must follow such a popular phenomenon.
And by not exactly Harry Potter, I mean that it combines the limp romanticism of Twilight with the ponderous introspection of The Hunger Games to create a book in which nothing at all happens, but the details of every scene are richly described and thought about, even though they hardly change from chapter to chapter.
Sales is about making connections. When you reach out to people with a solution, whether it’s analytics software, a carpet-cleaning service, or a new brand of vegetable juice, it’s the connection that matters first.
And that connection is made with a smile, a “hello”, and a handshake. Something you can’t do when making connections online.
Until now. Online presentations are a tool that puts your face right in front of people. Stephanie Grant uses online presentations to help Abel-Womack’s sales executives make connections with people, ultimately to increase sales.
Remember science class? That’s where, as kids, we got to mix chemicals, dissect frogs, and burn stuff. What fun!
Yes, we also had to memorize the periodic table and calculate equations, and yes, we’d sometimes wonder when we were ever going to use these scientific concepts.
Waters Corporation has been putting science to good use for more than fifty years. They’re a leading maker of analytical instruments for measuring fluids and substances used in healthcare delivery, environmental management, food safety, and water quality.
So it’s a good thing the people at Waters paid attention in science class. If you eat food, fuel your car, or use medicine, equipment from Waters probably had a role in ensuring the safety and effectiveness of the products you use.
Would you guess that their internal learning programs are a little, shall we say, involved?
That’s how I taper
Okay, here we go…
There was no starting gun, because that’s starting to seem a bit weird, after the moment of silence. Instead, somebody blew a horn.
I last ate two hours ago at a Providence Dunks. Bagel. Whole grain. No spread. Been guzzling electrolytes like a- do fish drink electrolytes? It is way too soon for these thoughts.