Friday Donuts

Friends, This is post #1,000 to the Friday Donuts blog, can you believe it? Granted, there have been more Fridays than posts (all my Qwest Friday donut club posts and most of the first year of Level 3 Friday donut club posts were lost). Still, there's something about big round numbers that calls for dramatic acknowledgement.  Someone once asked me if I ever feel lazy and do reruns. The truth is that while I may subconsciously do variations on certain themes (space, philosophy, news, morality, humor, poetry), I always try to keep these notes as fresh and original as possible. I've also been asked if I have a favorite post. Well, I don't but I figured this momentous occasion warrants a retrospective. If you have the time, a warm beverage and a donut, I've curated a few above-average posts. A word of caution, reading these may take you down Alice in Wonderland's proverbial donut hole. If not, I hope you at least have a donut. In any event, without further ado, here...

Friends, As we begin the Chinese year of the fire horse (not firehose as some would have you believe), it felt appropriate to lean-in to the fire theme and give up ice for lent. It should be good for the environment, after all it takes energy to freeze water. It can also serve as a small form of civil protest to the atrocities being committed by this nefarious agency. I can hear myself saying it already: “water, no ICE”. I suppose this would also apply to the icing on the cake donuts. So, what size is ICE as it continues to metastasize? Hard to say, but we may only be seeing the tip of the iceberg. It’s gotten so bad that when National Geographic was promoting an article on black ice, I thought it was a PR stunt trying to clean up the agency’s image. Turns out it was about slippery roads, not the slippery slope our government a[[ears to be on. Whatever your lenten sacrifice might be (if anything), I hope we can all agree to say “neigh” to abusive masked men dehumanizing immig...

Friends, Superstition dictates what you’re not supposed to do on Friday the 13th. Travel, get married, start a new venture. I think adding workouts to the list would not be a stretch. After all, going to the gym these days feels like a TV crime drama. It’s not just the muscular tattooed guys and gals that would be right at home in a 70s prison yard scene. There’s the individually shrink wrapped and vacuum sealed butt cheeks being preserved for evidence. The sixty-something gang chatting it up and obviously up to no good. And let’s not forget all the people wiping their fingerprints off of everything they touch. You can see the potential for unfortunate events transpiring. Much safer to grab yourself a donut and stay out of harm’s way. Happy Friday! Apropos travel, I really hope the duck tape is on the jetway, not my plane

Friends, When it comes to networking, I’m in the remedial category. Small talk is not my forte, giving and accepting praise feels awkward, and keeping in touch is a struggle. I certainly don’t deserve the random acts of kindness folks bestow on me on a surprisingly regular basis. Don’t get me started on the thoughtful gifts — the lion’s share of which revolves around donuts. From the anonymous “donut whisperer” shirt I wore to tatters to the donut-shaped mug that graces my desk, the thought that someone would go out of their way to buy me something is humbling. Then there’s the next level: crafts. Which brings me to the latest addition to my donut-themed paraphernalia collection. My good friend and esteemed colleague Beth Keserauskis found some donut-patterned canvas and decided to apply her advanced sewing skills to make me a tote. Now I can shop for donuts in style! All I can say is: I must have done something right with my life, that’s the only way I can explain being surrounded by ...