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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I Wonder What Folks in LPR do for Donuts?
Have you ever wondered how the Arkansas capital got its
name? Little Rock. I mean, if I were the one doing the naming, I would have
probably gone with some massive or impressive landmark or feature –think
Mammoth Hot Springs or Grand Prairie (I’d even accept Boulder as
semi-legitimate name). But Little Rock? Wouldn’t there be LOTS of little rocks
(i.e. pebbles) in the same vicinity? So, of course, on my trip to HQ earlier
this month I was determined to find-out from the locals. Fortunately, an opportunity
presented itself at happy hour –admittedly, not the best time for a history
lesson— so, take this with a grain of salt. While there were different versions
(details such as whether it was the French or the Native Americans who gave the
place its name), the consensus was that the French had settled “Le Petite
Rocher” (a clever French toponym meaning “The Little Rock”). The name itself
derives from a small outcropping of rock where the Arkansas river could be
forded (in contrast to the Big Rock, a 200 foot bluff just upstream). This
knowledge makes me slightly more comfortable with the name and has inspired me
to set forth a proposal for your consideration. Ready? I would like to start
abbreviating Little Rock as “LPR” (short for La Petite Rocher). Not to toot my
own horn, but I think it’s genius! It hails to the city’s roots, has the
familiar “L” and “R” at the beginning and end, making it intuitive and the
added letter “P” gives it a distinguished cachet (think FDR or JFK). Granted,
three letter acronyms don’t always work (I wouldn’t try one for LPR’s most
celebrated child, Bill Jefferson Clinton –something about “BJC” just doesn’t
sound right). So next time you need to refer to the beloved city where our
headquarters resides, casually throw-in an LPR and see what happens.
Of course, the real reason I’m writing you today is that
donuts have arrived in DEN. Not to say we’re holier than thou, but a dozen
delicious Holy Donuts are sitting in their usual spot . So come grab yours. Now
if only there was a Round Rock donuts less than 900 miles away from here, that
would have been perfect. Happy Friday!
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, The human form is the measure by which we frame the world around us. We are, after all, most familiar with (and full of) ourselves. Take the friendly elevator at Shift, the coworking environment where I sometimes migrate to change scenery. It’s no more or less efficient than other elevators, yet, the illusion of a smiley face created by the card reader’s reflection makes the space just a tad more endearing. The elevator could, for all I know, be an evil machine plotting my demise. Nah! Who am I kidding, it can’t be. What with its symmetric “eyes” and understated grin. Nothing so cute could possibly be waiting for the right moment to plunge me to my grave from the top floor. Could it? Another example: receiving two thumbs up is universally accepted as a sign of having done a great job. Unless, of course, if it’s coming from a koala bear. With two opposable thumbs in each hand, anything short of four thumbs has room for improvement. Which leads me to donuts. Last week’s expedit
Friends, The book Ready Player One sent me down memory lane this week. The journey was not triggered by the author’s excessive references to the 1980s, which border on obsessive. Rather, it was the name of the massive virtual reality simulation used by characters in this dystopian future to escape their grim surroundings: The OASIS. You see, that was also the name of my grandfather’s country estate, the setting where a disproportionate share of my treasured childhood memories were created. La Quinta Oasis was a bucolic old whitewashed house with a massive stone staircase, three foot thick adobe walls and wooden window shutters that, when closed at night, would submerge the residence in pitch darkness. With no running water, electricity, phone or indoor plumbing, the only modern convenience was the battery transistor radio on which my uncles would listen to “Chucho el Roto”, a radio soap opera. The Spanish fighting roosters crowed long before sunrise, making it difficult to fall back