The moment I sat down to write this column, I stumbled upon a breaking news story about Air France Flight 447. It seemed a strange coincidence, having just watched a program about the jetliner’s crash.
I used to pop out of bed ready to grab the tiger by the tail. I don’t do much popping anymore. Year after year, I increasingly came to rely on my clock radio to raise me from the depths of sleep, that is, until the plug was pulled on my favorite morning program.
Has it ever been your hope to leave an indelible mark or have your name live on after you’ve taken your last breath? Fear not. It’s easier than you may think. Simply make a donation or buy on credit.
Last issue, I complained about being snubbed by the host of the June hail storm which created a cash feast for building contractors and auto body repair shops. Then in the midst of cursing the endless rain of September, it dawned on me that Mother Nature has been implementing her own economic stimulus package.
When I set up shop as a graphic artist, I never thought about the cyclical nature of business. It didn’t take long, however, to learn there is a natural ebb and flow to every type of business. I became accustomed to a cycle of slow summers and insanely busy winters. Starting Connect Business Magazine was, in part, a strategy to modify that cycle and help my design company tack through the doldrums of summer.
I own a 100-year-old building in downtown Nicollet. It’s where I started business in 1979. Around back, there used to be a thick woody vine that may have been as old as the building itself.
In addition to colonoscopies, it is probably a good idea for anyone over age 50 to undergo regular screening for excessively bushy eyebrows – a sure sign of andyrooneyitis. It was my younger brother who pointed out I’m starting to sound a lot like the celebrated curmudgeon of 60 Minutes.
Do you greet every workday with unbridled enthusiasm? At one time I could honestly answer yes to that question. Today, I must admit I am no longer part of the minority.
I’ve acquired the habit of patting myself down like a policeman frisking a robbery suspect. While the practice must appear peculiar to onlookers, I’m simply taking inventory; trying to ensure everything I need to function beyond the confines of my home or office is somewhere upon my person.
