Ran into a colleague today that was just returning from a medical leave. Emergency surgery to repair a compressed disk or nerve or something that could paralyze him with just the right action. Turns out he got a replacement part from a cadaver and he’s good to go.
Thank you for that contribution.
Don’t forget to sign your donor card.
Sunday’s 60 minute episode featuring the story of FBI agent George Piro and the interrogation of Saddam Hussein fascinated my simple mind.
First let’s talk about Agent Piro. Handsome, Lebanese, scary mind control and fluent in Arabic.
The subject of weapons of mass destruction was the most important mystery Piro was trying to answer. It would take him five months to bring up the question.
Piro says no coercive interrogation techniques, like sleep deprivation, heat, cold, loud noises, or water boarding were ever used. “It’s against FBI policy, first. And wouldn’t have really benefited us with someone like Saddam,” Piro says.
So how did the FBI get there?
Through the garden of course. You must be patient.
“We had the guards remove their watches. And the only person that was wearing a watch was me. And it was very evident to him, ’cause I was wearing the largest wristwatch you could imagine. And it was just the act of him asking for the time — was critical in our plan,” Piro says.
Controlling time itself.
In addition to cookies on Saddam’s birthday, Piro’s mother supplied another gift unwittingly: flower seeds. Saddam was given a small plot behind a high fence where he gardened with his bare hands because he couldn’t have tools. Piro and Saddam took walks in the tiny garden and what flowed was a series of revelations. Poetry opened the door for discussions on WMD.
What was Saddam’s opinion of Osama Bin Laden?
“He considered him to be a fanatic. And as such was very wary of him. He told me, ‘You can’t really trust fanatics,’” Piro says.
Might be a good morning to step outside to the tune of Santana and Chad Kroeger. Birds are cheeping and we’ve been a penguin this week.
Management at the UA (Undercover Assignment) tries to suppress this natural human urge to grow your fur out. I’m not crazy about beards either.
Gentleman, friendly reminder that we ask that you come to work, each and every day (7 days a week), clean shaven. The exception to this rule would be if someone is growing a beard or other facial hair pattern (stache, soul patch, etc.). Growing one of these means consistent progress towards the goal (shaving every third day is not progress). Please let me or your super. know if you have questions.
This policy is clearly stated in the manual and I don’t think we need a memo on it.
I’m not a gent. I DO have questions about my facial hair. I’m not talking to my super about it.
Let’s give it a goose today!
Salty Grey Goose.
Grey Goose martini and a beach chair? Sounds Good!
In the Garden, our friends are looking for bird urns. I assume that’s a bird design and not bird urn.
Bird Design
Our condolences to the Marmot den on the loss of the fussy bird known as Maxine.
Bird Stories: Blanche, a friend of the family once had a renter who lived in a furnished room upstairs. Blanche had a tendency with previous renters of going upstairs and “getting in their space” a bit. It was her house after all!
When the new girl moved in, Blanche’s son advised her to pull back and not get as “familiar” with the tenant.
And she obeyed. For once.
Well, when the girl disappeared, Blanche and her son ventured upstairs to discover that the girl had a pet parrot. And the parrot had completely pecked and eaten Blanche’s antique furniture and wood trim, including the door. The room was covered in parrot poo. The girl slept on a garbage bag on top of a mattress on the floor. She peeled with her pet and left her clothes and dil*o for Blanche.
Yes, that really happened.
And then my sweet Etta, we call her place the Fowl House because she’s crazy for birds and it shows. I once started counting birds in her front room and stopped counting at fifty. On one shelf.
When I mentioned it to her, she said, “Oh! Patsy counted 75 in the kitchen!”
“Come look at my new bird sculpture!”
Enjoy the weekend!
Specifically, Ad Words. I still love the Google channel.
Last January was a record breaking month for sales for Urngarden, however, due to a heavy advertising schedule, our bottom line was less than impressive.
Phase two of the Great Google Experiment consists of monitoring first quarter activity without running an adwords campaign or advertising on Amazon. This was a scary proposition, but the good news is that we’ve already surpassed our Jan. 07 sales with zero dollars spent on adwords.
February will be interesting.
We also made changes to our distribution channels and unfortunately it’s starting to feel like a divorce. At the time, it was strictly a business decision. Now, it’s become personal. The firm we contracted with last year provided excellent service, and we wanted to leave the door open for future partnerships. Did you just hear the door slam? I’m not going to get into specifics, the whole thing is rather tedious and kinda sad.
That might be another post.
Mary Schmidt said it best in her Small Biz Snafus post,
“As I noted to the owner, it’s not my job to make them profitable.”
Two Words For Today: Own it.
So yesterday was a little slick, a thin glaze that made the morning commute a little dicey. The Grey Goose handled beautifully through the red light as I narrowly avoided a cargo van turning left in front of me, as well as oncoming traffic.
After a “Holy Sh*t!”, we prayed for divine intervention and skated right through it!
Lawsey!
Meanwhile in the garden, we’re in full blown hibernation mode. And getting a little fluffy at that.
On the mean streets, the kids are Burning Down the House:
Pulled into the drive and heard breaking glass, turned to see flames shooting out the window. This building has been vacant and we’ve had trouble keeping the kids out.
I’ve known several boys that have burned down the house, barn, or set a field on fire. Accidentally. Oops! Grown men too.
In fact, I’ve suggested that we start start our own “Burning Man” festival. Food, family, and a controlled burn. We have a retired firefighter captain and trained health professionals in the family ready to assist.
This idea came to me after spending a summer growing my eyebrows out after a flame- out in my backyard.
Uncles and Dad have both been to the emergency room with burn injuries. Uncle got a lesson in the explosive qualities of gasoline, while burning a brush pile. Dad, injured on the job when a burning ember fell down his boot and fried the top of his foot.
One of the best parties of my youth, involved setting a sofa on fire. That’s when I realized the toxicity of vinyl furniture.
Good Times.
Later, me and my posse slipped out the back door when we spotted an old high school alumni turned undercover cop in the mix.
Good party ya’ll! See ya!
Friday’s yoga session made me think about my lungs. How lucky and grateful I am for my functional set. So why do I knowingly abuse them? Sickening.
If something were to happen to me, would they be of any value? I’ve instructed Mr. Greenjeans that in the event of my demise, to make sure that the body is stripped of anything worthwhile and donated.
We’ve talked about organ donation before and the contacts with families who when faced with tragedy, made the unselfish decision to save the lives of others with the beautiful gift of a set of lungs, or tissue, heart or kidneys. One widow told me that her husband’s donation helped 59 people. FIFTY-NINE!
Today’s Tip for better living: Open your heart.
We decided to push it on the elliptical machine this week, and nearly stroked out. A couple of people wanted to know if I’d been crying. It was that bad. Not my best look.
Whenever I encounter a dedicated fit person, if they’ll allow it, I shake their hand and try to download some of their power. However, I think the timing is off, I need to catch them before the workout and not after….when they are all limp and sweaty. Somehow, the energy is not transferring.
Overheard: one lady trying to get credit for the spin class she’d signed up for. Turns out, she felt like she’d been assaulted by a bike seat.
A yoga nugget from June-I’m-Gonna-Eat That:
I was nearing the end of the workout, and we went into Corpse Pose, which many say is the hardest pose to master. You lie on your back, hands at your side, and completely relax. You don’t move. It’s harder than it sounds.
“You look actually dead,” Marvin said between spaghetti consumption. “Now I’m picturing you actually dead and I’m getting upset.”
Who knew that corpse pose was difficult to master? Now it makes sense. I once had a yoga teacher who would scold me for twitching while trying to relax in corpse pose. That helps.
Fitness attire in the office: It’s what not to wear. In another life I worked in an office with a co-worker who was training for a marathon. He’d do an early morning run and then stroll the halls in his costume, stopping to stretch occasionally as the eight o’clock crowd started rolling in. There were several mornings that I spewed hot coffee upon a sighting.
Hal from Cocoa Beach called today (70 degrees and raining) looking for a wood dual capacity cremation urn for a military niche at the naval academy.
A tricky task indeed if you’ve never shopped for a companion urn. Academy regs state that no more than three urns to a niche. The dimensions he is working with are 10.25″ H x 8.5″ W x 10.25″ deep. Based on a standard adult urn size, the niche sounds like a single unit to me.
This was the answer for a wood double urn and a standard size niche at the veterans cemetery.
Separate compartments, measures 9.5″ W x 7″ D x 9.5″ H, and can be personalized with name plates or a military service medallion.
Free Stellar Service!
Tim had an interesting post on Final Embrace regarding internet shoppers and how they’ve affected the funeral industry. The internet has made a dent in the funeral director’s world. But the funeral director needs to look in the mirror.
Cue up Cher, “If I Could Turn Back Time”. On the local scene I’ve interviewed funeral directors that left me shaking my head. Several years ago, we (me, myself and I) surveyed the local market to determine what the cremation landscape was like. The numbers reflected growth, but were low compared to other parts of the country.
Frankly, what I saw was a market not being properly served. Insert disclaimer here: “We do not actively pursue sales in the state of Missouri.”
I was looking at the big picture, reading the trades, looking at the projections. I knew that the growth was there.
So the conversation on the local scene was a surprise, when these middle aged men admitted that:
While discussing sales numbers with an experienced gentleman who retired from the highest volume operation in SW MO, he was surprised at the number of urns I sold per month. Waaaay more then he imagined.
Another operator who morally despises cremation, admits that cremation is now 30% of his business, and continues to climb said, “If I was 20 years younger, I’d do things a lot different.”
Right. What are you doing today?
And the real kicker? The one that still makes me smile: “Buying an urn on the internet is undignified.”
Why? Is it because I’m not wearing a suit while I run the client’s credit card?
Some funeral directors have told me they have “exclusive” arrangements with their vendors and only carry what said vendor doles out. This usually comes from the director that just said the families aren’t buying an urn.
I understand about relationships with your vendors and I’m all about the service. But if the product is not working for you or your families… then maybe it’s time to look at options that DO serve your interests. I have years of experience dealing with sales weasels representatives and trust me, if you are a good customer, your “friend” will do what is necessary to keep your business.
Most of my clients are Boomers and X’rs. Most know what they want, many have been to the funeral home and didn’t find what they were looking for. And some, well, I’m doing the funeral directors a favor by shielding them from the frustration of the family that googles “cheap urn”.
Note to self: Add category for cheap urns.
As a consumer, I don’t want to spend a great deal for funeral goods. Most people I know feel the same way. Certain members of my family prefer burial and that wish will be honored with services likely to be held at the funeral home. Personally, I like one stop shopping. I don’t see myself shopping online for a casket. But if $5000 is the national average for a burial, it’s still more than I want to spend.
Today’s Thought for the Day: Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.
Dali Lama
Yesterday, John McCain stopped in at a funeral home in Michigan on a last minute campaign stop….
The trip to a funeral home was a bit surprising for such a superstitious campaign. McCain later joked about the visit in his first rally today, noting he and his wife Cindy got a chance to visit the funeral home while others are dying to get in there.
However, Peg Jonkhoff, who invited McCain to the Hannah House told reporters she was considering voting for Mitt Romney but admitted McCain may have swayed her with his visit this morning.
That concludes the political discussion on this blog today.
