Donuts are part of the magic that makes life so sweet. I founded the Level 3 Friday Donut Club in 2004 and ran it until my departure in 2015. It had a three year run at Windstream and is now virtual, but at its peak, we had a rotation of 50+ folks who brought donuts every Friday. We had three simple rules: (1) five dozen (2) boutique shop donuts (3) by 8:00 am. This blog memorializes these e-mails to share my thoughts (and, once upon a time, announce the donut arrival). Have a happy Friday!
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Turn and Face the Donuts
I’ve been thinking about changes this week. The thought
evolved from an earworm planted by the news of David Bowie’s passing (turn and
face the strange) and has grown to a broader contemplation. This time of year,
change abounds. Take New Year’s resolutions. That obstinate desire to change.
By now most of you have identified some thing or other you wish to change in
the new year -and perhaps have already changed your mind about going through
with it. Personally, I’ve been going through some career change. Of course, the
more things change, the more they stay the same. Take the Football Rams (no,
really, take them, they haven’t had a winning season since 2003). They’re going
back to Los Angeles. Also, as many of you know, I’m into donuts on Friday. So,
I decided this morning to go to Holy Donuts (a hole-in-the-wall shop whose
slogan is “man does not live by bread alone”) and procured a dozen of these
tasty treats which are sitting near my desk. Come grab one and celebrate this
long weekend’s eve with me. Happy Friday!
Friends, The early bird catches the worm, however, as the sun rises I’d much rather have a Denver omelet than a diet of worms . Ready to fly the coop, my ducks all in a row, I ponder one more time whether a bird in hand is truly worth two in the bush. Egged-on by my quest to tuck away a nest egg, I’ve decided to change industries and hope that, like the phoenix, my career will also rise from the ashes of change. After all, I’m no spring chicken –my crow’s feet and gray bely my age – however, I have to trust my judgment and believe you can’t catch this old bird with chaff (whether or not folks think me an odd bird for my actions). And so I shall attempt to soar like an eagle, aware that counting my chickens before they hatch would be ill-advised. As I learn to talk turkey in the language of cybersecurity, I will endeavor not to hide my head in the sand, choosing instead to be like a duck – calm on the surface and paddle like hell underneath! And while my excessive use of bird-inspired
Friends, My family gained a new daughter last week. As I welcome the freshly minted Mrs. González, I wish the new couple a lasting, loving, happy and tranquil marriage. I am also reminded of a special delivery I received at the wedding. A few weeks ago, my niece/goddaughter held a “go fund me” and offered to stitch something for the donors. I, of corse, asked for a horse jumping through a donut. The completed masterpiece depicting this unlikely combo now has a special place in my office, and brings a smile to my face every time I see it. That said, I may forgo the obligatory donut today and opt for some of the leftover cake we still have at the house. Happy Friday! New addition to the Family Horse through donut with the artist Horse through donut at it’s new home shelf P.S. The donut wall in action.
Friends, You know life is good when even dinner smiles at you. That said, digging into smiley soup can pose a dilemma. At a conscious level, you know it’s just inert food. Inanimate, unsentient, incapable of emotion or feeling. Still, those cute cross eyed egg eyes and that little pepper smile are saying ”I’m your friend” —and friends don’t eat friends. Naming your anthropomorphic dish only makes matters worse. Eventually, being the monster I am, hunger wins. Mmmm, delicious! (Sorry, Sally). Speaking of which, maybe skip the smiley faces on that next dozen donuts. Happy Friday! ;-)