1 World… 2 Views…

In the past 4 days I finished 2 astonishingly excellent books that prominently feature the Middle East.  I highly recommend both… for different reasons.

Three Cups of Tea is an amazing, inspirational story of American Greg Mortenson’s commitment and efforts to build schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan.  I’m not sure how you could read that book and not come away feeling a renewed sense of urgency to be your greatest contribution to the world.

Truly moving.  And it may very well change how you see the people of Pakistan and Afghanistan forever.  At least I hope it does.  Read it and see.

The other book is Hot, Flat and Crowded by Thomas L. Friedman.  It’s kind of a sequel to The World is Flat, which I read a few years ago.

Hot, Flat and Crowded is most definitely *not* a book for everyone.  It’s a much heavier read.  And it will likely have the polar opposite effect of Three Cups of Tea.  You’ll be frustrated, angry and indignant at the ignorance of our society and the disastrous environmental, political and social legacy we are passing on to our children and beyond.

It’s maddening.

So don’t read it if you’re looking for a pick-me-up.  If, however, you are looking to be emotionally charged and have your beliefs about our world severely challenged then read it.  Be prepared to dig deep to really confront the reality exposed.

And if you’re a business owner or manager at any level I would make it a must-read.  No question.  Again… it will change how you see the future of business and opportunity.  And, if you’re like me, you’ll be excited for your new vision.

It was purely accidental on my part, but I would recommend reading Hot, Flat and Crowded first, followed by Three Cups of Tea.  The latter book took some of the edge off the frustration presented by the first.

Regardless, both will expand your humanity and spirituality… although in vastly different ways.

This genre of books has produced some of my favorite reads over the past year.  I’d put both of these in the same class as The Kite Runner (another must read) and better than The World is Flat and A Thousand Splendid Suns.

I'm Grateful For...

This is my very first post from my iPhone. Woohoo!

I've decided to try a new experiment and use my blog and iPhone combo as an on-demand gratitude journal. So... here goes.

Right now I'm grateful for technology that allows me to even do this.

And I'm most grateful right now for my wife Lauren. Because of other commitments she hasn't been able attend the marriage class I teach for several weeks.

I miss her when she's not there. It's surprising to me how much more difficult the class is to teach without her and her contribution.

Well... Today she was back in class. And I'm so grateful for her vision, intelligence and spirituality. And the fact that she's so willing to lean in and contribute.

Very cool! And I'm grateful for her and her support. She challenges me intellectually and (more importantly) spiritually. I need that.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Who Stole My Belly Button?

What's this?


It's a Dairy Queen Dilly Bar, of course! (As seen through the not-so-professional lens of my iPhone)

Maybe I'm the only one that remembers going to DQ to get a bag of Dilly Bars with Dad. Most often I remember going there to get a Family Home Evening treat. Sometimes it would be after a softball game. Other times for no real reason at all. Every time it was the best thing in the world.

I grew up with an inordinate amount of love for my local Dairy Queen (the one on 43rd & Dunlap, for you Phoenix folk). It was a spot I remember going when Dad wanted to reward us for absolutely no reason at all. And I can't remember a better feeling as a kid. Dairy Queen was a special place. In my (possibly distorted) memory it represented the pinnacle of the "just because" love that parents show from time to time.

What's funny is that after all these years I still feel the same about Dairy Queen. It continues to be one of my essential "go to" treats when I just want my kids to know how great they are. No reason at all. Just a small message from their dad.

Of course, they can't know what it really means to me. That this is one of the small ways that I can be like my Dad. That there's a connection and tradition in the Dilly Bar that somehow has become desperately important to me to keep alive.

So yesterday I was having a rough day. Painful. Too busy. Rushed.

And Andi had just been to the dentist for a temporary crown. And Lauren was running around getting ready to teach her college class. And I was quickly running out of time to prepare my Church History institute class. I was stressed. Lauren was stressed. Andi was stressed.

And I'm sitting in the Enterprise Car Rental office waiting to get my wonderfully sparse Dodge Avenger (woohoo) when I realize... it's time for the Dilly Bar.

See... that's the thing about the Dilly Bar. There's a "time" for it. I just know when it hits. And it was most definitely time.

Of course, nowadays I get a little let disappointed when I go get a pre-packaged box of Dilly Bars from DQ. It just isn't the same as getting the old bags out of the DQ freezer from when I was a kid.

You know what I'm talking about, right? You'd grab the bag that they made right there in the store. You knew they hand-dipped them in the store with their soft-serve ice cream because *ALL* Dilly Bars had the "belly button."

That was, without doubt, the single best part of the Dilly Bar. Chad and I *loved* the belly button. That was waaay more important than the flavor (butterscotch or chocolate, iirc). You needed the best belly button to have the best Dilly Bar. The "best" Belly Buttons were a magical fusion of symmetry, size, and the subjective quality of the "swirl" on the peak. It was an art form. And it was everything.

If you don't know what I'm talking about then you unquestionably missed out on one of the true joys of childhood. Ahhhhh, the Dilly Bar belly button *rocked*.

For a time I think Chad and I were the world's foremost connoisseurs of the Belly Button. We were the Randy Jackson and Simon Cowell of the Diary Queen Dilly Bar. We took it seriously. Seriously.


Oh, and they came in those little paper "sleeves" like you could never get away with today because of all the potential dangers. But all of those things made the Dilly Bar experience for me as a child. Untoppable. And nothing seemed more meaningful in the moment.

Well, today's Dilly Bars are different. I don't think DQ realized what they were messing with when they changed such a classic.

Now I buy them in a pre-packaged box that obviously comes from a factory somewhere. They're sealed in a plastic wrap like a popsicle. On the good side they have more flavors. Lauren wouldn't care so much for the Dilly Bar experience if they didn't now have one with crushed Heath Bar.

But here's what kills me. NO Belly Button!

What?

How is that even a Dilly Bar?

I try to explain to my kids the cosmic significance of the belly button. It doesn't work. It's just another one of dad's silly stories from when he was a kid (a specialty of mine).

And yet, even as I'm disappointed that Dairy Queen insists on messing with the best part of the Dilly Bar (and my memories of Dad), my kids think the Dilly Bar is the best treat you can get for no reason at all.

Because it means dad loves them. No strings. No conditions. And they must be magnificent because dad brought home Dilly Bars just for the heck of it. Oh, yeah!

Thanks Dad. The Dilly Bar lives! And still works ;-)

4 Months Ahead of Schedule?

In an unusual turn of events I'm 4 months ahead of schedule for having my local sports team reach into my chest and ceremoniously rip my heart out.  Normally I have to wait all the way until May or June before the Suns take the annual honor.  Of course, they typically really build it up and make the most of it in a looooong, drawn out brutal playoff exit.  You know... so it's definitely worth the wait.

So it's with great pains that I announce that this year the Arizona Cardinals took care of the whole heart-stomping early in the year so I can get back to my life sooner than usual.  Heck... I may even skip the NBA playoffs altogether... you know, since that's what it looks like the Suns are going to do as well.

Oh well, great run by the Cards.  Hats of to 'em.  They pulled off the impossible for sure.  Fun to watch.  Probably shouldn't have even been there.  And, surprisingly, no less painful to witness their demise.  I was kind of hoping to ride my recent karmic tidal wave all the way to a super bowl title.  Nope.

On the bright side... this whole run by the Cards really caught me off guard.  I barely had time to get my arm warmed up for throwing the remote and my legs in shape for storming out of the room in disgust.  As a result, I was *not* in playoff form today and had to settle for a handful of screams and softly slinking away.  I still have a working TV *and* remote, though.

I must be losing my touch because Lauren and the kids didn't even feel the need to leave the house.  They actually invited *guests* over for the game.  What?  I'm not sure I can handle being emasculated so early in the year.  Next year I'll show up prepared and start working my unrealistic expectations into a frothy lather in early October.  Then I can really get into the NFL playoffs and make it hurt like it's supposed to.

Now let's all join hands and sing that familiar Arizona refrain... "There's always next year!"