On a hot summer night, in a little town in the Midwest, we gathered for a common cause, took the challenge, nominated others, spoke our minds and made memories.
We have a guy in our town by the name of Peter Yankala, who owns a classic men’s clothing company, Phillips Men’s Wear. Peter is the marketing genius behind all of these fabulous moral boosting and fund raising efforts that we host in the name of this favored charity, the Les Turner ALS Foundation.
We have another guy in our town by the name of Bob Lee, who commanderes people in the name of social justice and raises money like hell won’t have it. Bob has circumnavigated the perimeter of the United States on a bicycle, raising more than $1,000,000 for ALS. All after the age of 60.
And there’s another one by the name of Douglas McConnell, who has swum the English Channel, the Catalina Channel and around the Island of Manhattan, earning the “Triple Crown” of open water swimming and raising more than $325,000 for ALS.
So when you put the three of them together (Peter, Bob and Doug) it’s a beautifully intelligent and magical combination. The three are tirelessly creative in their scheming ways to create excitement and raise money for the horrid disease that is ALS.
Her are some photographs and videos of some of the
As my oldest son has started a whiskey subscription company, Taster’s Club, my interest in whiskey has grown. So far, however, I admire whiskey from afar.
In the meantime, I’ve come across this beautiful short film entitled Sligo’s Parting Glass, created by Tellamore Dew Irish Whiskey. The short film was created as a result of the overwhelming response to an even shorter film made as a commercial. The photography and the music are captivating. So, on this St. Patrick’s day, here is the commercial as well as the short film:
Today would have been my mother’s 89th birthday. We had a very intense relationship, and her passing had the harsh finality of a never-to-be-repeated punctuation mark. Or, maybe more like a punch in the stomach. I miss her.
My mother grew up in a family of German immigrants, lots of them, who all lived on the same block in an ethnic part of Cincinnati. She told great stories about that time in her life. Her family taught her to appreciate her roots, to appreciate her religion, and to appreciate wicked one-liners.
Her one-liners were the best because they were razor sharp, bitingly sarcastic, consistently clever, and simply unending. My mother was so immersed in smart-ass commentary during her formative years that she could have no more broken that habit than she could have turned her back on the Virgin Mary.
In her memory, at Christmas this year, my siblings and I created an advent calendar with her most creatively delivered sayings. Here, what I think, are her top 10 wicked one-liners …
Oh, and one more, the one I like the most …