Sunday, November 28, 2010

One year later.

So, my beautiful wife Kimberlee wrote in her blog tonight. This is what I wrote in response.

Well, this is two nights in a row that I am crying. Three out of the last four days too. I wonder if this week, the week of Thanksgiving is destined to be a tearful one for me each year. Last year I lost my father to the dreaded Parkinson's disease, then welcomed my beautiful daughter here to seemingly somehow fill the void. Tears flowed freely at both occasions. This year I lost a friend, Scott Davis and I thought about my dad and how I miss him and tears flowed freely on both occasions. Then I read your blog and your beautiful poem and I realize while I am not as reluctant to let Father Time do his job, I am still sad to see it happen so fast. Our little Norah Rose is such a precious gift and I am so incredibly grateful everyday for her charm and her never ending smiles and her deep blue eyes and her love, her love that she gives so freely. In her I see us and in us I see two people hand picked by our Father in Heaven to be together and raise this little Norah with Lily and Felicity and Bridger and Malachi. In them I see our family and in our family I feel strength. Strength that grows with each passing month that we build our home together, strength that fights against the influences of the outside world with stubborn resiliency. And while I see all of this in our family, somehow it all is so perfectly condensed in the deep love I feel when I look into the eyes of our pure and innocent little one year old, little Norah Rose.

And now I will write the first blog I have written since a year ago, since before I had my new baby and since right after I lost my father.

This week has been incredible. Like a roller coaster, but like a roller coaster being ridden for the first time and in the dark. It started when I got a strange text message from a good friend's wife. It said she wanted to make sure I knew of his passing! I knew what that meant but it couldn't be true. Scott Davis was about my age, had 3 kids and a wife at home. He couldn't possibly be dead, and even if he was, why was his wife taking time out of her grieving to call me? Scott and I were definitely friends, but not close friends, he started out as a customer and lately we had spent a lot of time working together on a variety of things including his radio show and prepping him for some races. When I did get a hold of his wife, Kim, she said, that it was true, he had an accident and was dead at 41 years old. Scott Davis, the guy with the contagious grin and a pureness of heart I have only experienced in a few people on this earth, was gone. And Kim had told me that I had made a real impact on his life. I am not sure what it was about his passing that struck me so hard, but it did. Maybe it was his age, so close to mine. Or it could have been those words his wife spoke about my impact on him. I felt almost guilty, because I really liked Scott, deeply admired him, but I couldn't say that he had impacted my life in any particular way. I learned of his death on the same Sunday as my father died one year earlier, the Sunday before Thanksgiving. Tuesday was Scott's funeral. WOW, what an event, absolutely full of the Spirit, as was Scott. I needed that spiritual uplift. And just two days earlier I had not realized how much Scott had impacted my life. As I listened to stories from his youth and heard countless examples of his service to others, I realized that Scott had quietly impacted my life while he was here, but he had powerfully impacted my life in the days since his death. There is so much that I learned during his funeral service, but one thing that will always stick with me is that time on this earth is precious. In the blink of an eye someone you love could be gone.

The next day I was at RidgeCrest with Will and was thinking about Scott and his two good friends that spoke at his funeral and I realized that I had to make something happen. Will and I had been talking since the 80's about the possibility of seeing Pink Floyd live. It appeared that we would never get that chance. Then Roger Waters announced that he would be performing The Wall in it's entirety live in a lot of places other than Salt Lake City, of course. So we had plotted and planned but hadn't pulled the trigger to actually go to the show. So it was Wednesday during the RidgeCrest meeting that I decided I wasn't going to let the top item on Will's bucket list go by. I am his best friend, and that's what best friend's are for. So, I simply had to make it happen. I didn't realize at the time that the only show that could possibly work was on Black Friday. Yeah, two days away. AND the show was sold out months ago. But, long story short, with some love and understanding from our wives, I made it happen. So, tonight we saw THE WALL LIVE in Vegas!!! Wow, this would be the most fun part of the week so far. Amazing show and amazing friendship. What could be better? Well, we got our rental car for $10 and got bumped to first class on the flight out. That's pretty cool. Oh and the sold out show, they opened up some seats at the last minute, and good ones too, one section back from the stage and 7 rows up. Yes, we booked flights to Vegas with a room and a car but no tickets to the sold out show. It all came together and Will won’t stop talking about the amazing, once in a lifetime event. And now he can mark that one off his bucket list.

And now back to the other part of the week that hit me! Thanksgiving night, I was sick and tired, it had been an exhausting, albeit enjoyable day, I mean really the absolute best Thanksgiving dinner I have ever had in my 38 years. But, where was I? Oh yeah sick and tired, my wife, my baby and I had all been fighting a cold most of the week and mine had just hit it's peak. So after looking at a really weak batch of black Friday ads, we crawled into bed. I said two things to Kimberlee as I snuggled close to her; "Our baby is going to be one year old in one more day......and my dad has been gone for a year." And that is all it took, I started to sob. I thought about my dear old dad. I thought about all of the crazy business things that had transpired in my life that year and all of the advice I would normally have asked for from him. I thought about the stories I would have proudly told him, because of all the people in this world who believe in me, he believed in me the most. And of all the people I wanted to impress, it was his approval I needed and it was his that I nearly always had. My dad loved me with the pride that a father should have in a son. I don't know how much of it was deserved I just know that he was the biggest part of my cheering section. And for all of those reasons, I miss my dad. One year ago, we buried him, tomorrow his granddaughter, the one that was born two days after he was buried, will turn one year old and I can only imagine the smile on his face as he looks down on us and knowingly nods his approval with fatherly pride, knowing that my family is doing just fine. Dad, we are doing just fine and I want you to know how indelible your imprint has been in my life. I am what I am and do what I do still seeking your approval and your blessing. Dad, you did a great job and I do miss you, I always will I suppose, but aren't I fortunate to have a father who is worthy of missing so deeply that a year later it makes me cry like a little one year old baby.

Dad, Norah, Will, Scott, thank you so much for making this week's roller coaster so darn memorable. I love you all.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

A talk for my dad

My father, Clyde St. Clair died on Sunday Nov 22nd after struggling with Parkinson's Disease for over 10 years.

This was my talk for him at his funeral. I hope it gives you a better glimpse into the man that he was.

My talk today comes in two parts. First, I want to share with you some moments from the last two weeks of my father’s life here on earth. Second, I will give my tribute to the man who influenced my life’s direction more than any other person ever has or ever will.

My Father was my mentor, my foundation, my guide, my dad and my daddy. Yes, I’m not sure why, but during the last 2 weeks of his life for some reason it felt right to revert back to calling him daddy. At that point he really couldn’t respond verbally, but there were a few times that I at least got a smile and even what seemed like an attempt at laughter. I was fortunate enough to capture one of these moments on my cell phone camera. I will cherish that picture for the rest of my life. That was the first day I saw my dad in the nursing home.

The second time I saw him, he and I were fortunate enough to have my best friend Will there with us. It was then that we saw what may have been the last big smile of my father’s life. What was he smiling about? It was when Will told him about the record month we just had at the company dad founded, RidgeCrest Herbals. Yeah, he couldn’t speak, but he made it clear that he was happy about the news.

This was a special moment for me. You see, he had left a pretty good chunk of his heart back at RidgeCrest Herbals. Two of the last things my dad and his partner did before Parkinson’s forced his retirement were to hire me to formulate products and Will to sell them. I think he got a real kick out of hearing that not only had Will and I not put the company out of business, but it was actually working out ok.

The third time I saw dad at the nursing home was with my mom. It was that day that I knew he wasn’t going to be with us much longer. At this point he could no longer even attempt to talk to us, so I read to him out of one of my favorite books, Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader. He wanted to respond I think, but he just couldn’t.

The 4th and final time I saw dad at the nursing home was a week ago today. The home arranged for a special Thanksgiving dinner to be served to all of the residents and their families. I told my Mom that this would be the last Thanksgiving with dad. And I later told my wife that I didn’t think he would be with us at Christmas. It’s funny how when you look back you can see the Lord’s hand almost as clearly as the Brother of Jared or Moses must have seen it. As I walk back through the memories of my dad’s last 2 weeks, I can see that the extreme sadness that I felt when I saw him so helpless and alone in his nursing home was simply to prepare me to allow him to pass on without feeling that same level of sadness at his passing. It was so much harder to leave him there alone at that nursing home than it will be to leave his body in the earth today.

The good Lord allowed me to read to him one last time. To see him smile and nod approval at me one last time. To let my kids tell him stories and give him big hugs one last time. To spoon-feed him his last Thanksgiving dinner. And then Sunday night in his hospital bed to give him his last blessing telling him that he had done enough here and it was ok for him to leave us. For some, maybe these would seem like hard memories, but for me they are just more evidence of the love and mercy that our Savior has for all of us. The tender mercies of the Lord were so abundant during the last two weeks of my father’s life.

Before I get to the tribute to my dad, I want to give a short one to my mom. For ten years my dad was sick with that awful disease. For the last 5 of his life he was too sick to be consistently capable of taking care of himself much. For most of that time he couldn’t do much of anything for himself. I suppose it was probably something like taking care of a new baby. Only with a new baby, you see progress and the joy of new life instead of constant regression and the sadness of a life slowly wasting away. To see a once strong, sharp and capable man deteriorate into a weak and demented shell was incredibly hard for my mom. And if you know my mom at all, you know that she dotted every “I” and crossed every “t” multiple times as she meticulously cared for him. She provided loving care when it seemed sometimes that he didn’t care. She provided selfless service when sometimes he seemed so selfish. You have to understand that my dad was completely frustrated by this challenge. He fought it. He fought it hard. My dad didn’t like to lose. He wasn’t used to it. But he couldn’t figure out how to win this war. In business and in life he lost plenty of battles but he didn’t lose wars. He kept fighting until he came out on top. So to watch himself slowly become someone else was beyond discouraging for him. Many nights I talked to my dear mom as she told me that she just didn’t know how much longer she could do this. She always felt guilty when she vented to me about this.
Mom, you have nothing to feel guilty for and you never did. You did more for Dad in the last five years than all of the previous ones combined. You kept dad home and you fought this fight right by his side. And you know what? You guys didn’t lose the war after all. In reality, you won. You kept dad home for all but 2.5 weeks and then you were there by his side to watch him slip away into eternity. Mom, I know I speak for everyone that loves dad, when I say, Thank you. Thank you for your undying devotion and love and selfless service. We love you.

And now for the tribute.

For those of you who know me well, I handle most of life’s happy and sad times with a bit of humor. One of my favorite things about my dad was his quick wit and wry sarcasm. It turns out that these, along with my hairline are some of the many things that he was generous enough to pass on to me. So, while this is a solemn occasion, I couldn’t see speaking about my father without including humor and a bit of that sarcasm, so feel free to laugh if I say something funny. After all, this is a joyous occasion more so than it is a sad one.

Business was a big part of my dad’s life. He loved what he did. He did what he loved. He was a pioneer in the natural products industry. Back when he started it wasn’t much of an industry. Mainly just a bunch of wacko health nuts that thought White bread was bad for you and Wheat Grass was good for you. My dad influenced a generation or two of future health nuts. To this day, I am recognized by the last name on my trade show badge. “You must be Clyde’s son?” they say. It is always an honor to say, “yes I am.”

I grew up in the back of my parents Nutrition Shoppe. From the time I was 7 till about the time I was 14 I learned a lot from my mom. She was managing the store back then. But about the time I turned 15 my mom retired. So it was time for me to learn the ropes for real. For a while I helped my brother Craig manage the shop. But when Craig moved on, it became my job to manage the store and hire people and set schedules and place orders, the whole bit. My dad would come in on Saturdays and see how I was doing. These were some special years for me. It was my dad trusting me to not let him down. Nothing motivated me like that.

Due to child labor laws not applying to one’s own children, I wasn’t paid very well. But, it didn’t really matter. I just wanted to make dad proud. I will always remember when we had a big day I would call my dad while I was closing out the till and tell him all about it. He was always just as excited as I was. Looking back on it, I think I told him a lot of small things that seemed big to me. But he never let on that it wasn’t just as big to him. I would call with big ideas on how to make the store better. I would call sometimes even after the first couple hours of the day, (if they were really good ones). My dad was always excited to hear from me and I lived for that excitement. Hearing my dad be so proud of me was worth way more than my little paycheck ever was.

But my dad wasn’t just weird because of his line of work. He was weird in so many ways. It was my dad that wore Birkenstock sandals to church….with socks! He and my mom sent us to school with 100% whole-wheat sandwiches and organic beef jerky with no nitrates or nitrites. We didn’t eat Tostito’s and Cheeto’s. We ate Health Valley corn chips and Barbara’s Cheese puffs. Barbara’s Cheese puffs aren’t Orange, they are white and the corn chips are blue! Our bologna didn’t have a first name at all. And it wasn’t made from pork parts it was made from real turkeys by some family named Shelton, not some dude named Oscar.

Imagine being 9 years old and pulling out your sack lunch. Its got brown bread with brown mustard and even browner bologna, Blue Chips and fruit leather that was actually made of fruit and felt like real leather when you tried to eat it. Yep, when your parents are weird, you don’t really have a choice in the matter. But it didn’t stop at our diets. No, it went way beyond that.

Where did the kids in my neighborhood go to school? Why, they went down the street. Where did I go to school? In Murray! We lived in Bountiful. But, my dad wanted the best for us and he didn’t really trust the government to educate his children. So we went to a little tiny private school in Murray, Utah called Mount Vernon Academy.

And then there were the holidays. Halloween? Trick or Treating? Huh? Nope, we didn’t trick or treat, we went bowling and got pizza. Halloween was Pizza a bowling night for the St. Clairs.

And Christmas trees? No way, too pagan.

But before you start feeling sorry for us St. Clair kids. Wait a minute. It wasn’t long before I had kids trying to trade me for that jerky or those chips (not so much the sandwiches though).

It was because of Mount Vernon Academy that a kid 5 foot 6 could play high school basketball. It was there that I met Will, the greatest guy in the world who has been my best friend since we met in 7th grade. It was at Mount Vernon that you didn’t get voted into Student body office, you were appointed. That’s right, your’e looking at the former Student Body President here folks.

And the holidays? Well, some of the best nights of my life were spent eating pizza and bowling with my favorite people in a deserted bowling alley. I always found just the right ball on Halloween nights.

And who needs a Christmas tree when your father has the foresight to gently remind his children that all gifts come from God and so our gifts sat underneath the Nativity Scene. When we looked up we saw our Savior and when we looked down we saw the representation of all that He has given us.

So was my dad crazy? Sure he was, crazy like a fox. I said earlier that he was a pioneer. He was. Long before Acai berries, Noni or Xango, my dad knew that you really are what you eat. There wasn’t much science to back up his beliefs at that time. He just knew. My dad looked at the world through different glasses than most people use. And he did what he believed to be right regardless of what anyone else thought. He just didn’t care what anyone else thought about how he lived his life. Sandals at church, private school, health food and weird holiday traditions, it all adds up to a real individual. He was an independent person with an independent mind. It was that independence that led him to work in the nutrition industry and also led him to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It has been said that Mormons are a peculiar people. Well, when dad found the church, he must have thought he would fit right in. It turns out that he was slightly more peculiar even than most Mormons.

Truth is, for the most part, he was just a bit ahead of his time. Now lots of people shop at health stores and take vitamins. They sell Blue Corn chips and turkey bologna at the regular grocery store. Private and charter schools are popping up all over the place and even Birkenstocks aren’t that strange anymore. Funny thing is that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree as they say. Grab one of my kids after the funeral and ask them about the weird stuff I put in their lunches.

Everyone needs a foundation, someone or something that they can rely on. My dad was my foundation. He was and is the one man that I never want to let down and always want to make proud. I am grateful for his knowledge and foresight, his humor and work ethic, his discipline and love. I am eternally grateful for the strong relationship that we had here on earth. And I look forward to building on that relationship throughout eternity. I love you dad, see you later.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

...Why I am ticked off!!!

I am a nice guy. I try to follow the "golden rule". I am honest in my dealings with my fellow men. I do business every single day. I take care of my customers when they complain and I really genuinely try hard to satisfy their needs. I never ever take money for something that I think isn't of benefit to the person I sell it to. I like people. Some customers are a pain in the butt and so are some of my vendors. Regardless of that, when I have a problem with a customer or a vendor, I try to work it out to equal satisfaction. When a customer complains loudly, I try even harder to make them happy, even when they are being unreasonable in my view.

So, why is it that when I try to get satisfaction and try really hard not to be the squeaky wheel and show extreme patience it blows up in my face?

Here is the story and I really want your opinion!

Just after Christmas 2008 my family and I go on a fun little road trip to see Brandon and Joan (well really to see Jimmie and Max, but don't tell them that). Anyway, they are my Bro and Sis in-law and nephews. So we head down to Phoenix and about Flagstaff start having a really jerky response from our transmission. As we pull into the service station on the Highway we realize we could be in real trouble. We can barely go 30mph without serious jerking and lurching. The guy at the service place confirms our worst fears. It is the Transmission and it is shot. No big deal really except for a couple of things. It is December and we just blew way too much on our kids and each other for Christmas. It is December and that happens to be the absolute worst month for sales in the Nutrition industry, so in addition to spending way too much on gifts for Christmas, we didn't have a whole lot in reserve in the first place. Can you say... (pay it off before the 30 day grace period?) Oh, and it is December and besides really wanting to visit Max and, Brandon and Joan, it happens to be the least expensive vacation we can think of, since they are willing to let us sleep in their house and it is within relatively short driving distance. So, when we realize it is gonna be $2400 bucks....oh and we will have to stay in Flagstaff for the weekend cause they can't get it done until Tuesday!!! Bummer huh, cause that happened to be the day we planned on going back home. So, what is a man to do?

So I talk it over with my wifey and we decide to head down very slowly to Phoenix cause the guy at the Tranny shop says we cant make it any worse, so we throw it in 3rd and flip on the hazard lights and head down to Phoenix in the sloooooow lane. No biggie, cause we made it in only about 100 hours (or so it seemed). So we get to Phoenix and the loving home of Jimmie and Max. We are officially vacationing. Too bad that there is no vehicle in Max's garage that holds 6 people. So we are...well, kind of stranded, on vacation. To their credit, Max and Jimmie were very accommodating and we used two cars to go to a few different fun places and Joan even rented the world's very worst movie for us to watch on New Years eve while Brandon slept on the couch. Thanks Joanie, you really came through for us! In fact, we really had a fun time. Brandon nearly decapitated someone with a flying rip stick and did take out a kitchen table and three chairs. And then later that day at the park I nearly broke my flippin wrist on the same dang rip stick. Fun, fun, fun.

Well, we had a decision to make. Repair the van and drive it home. Have the van transported home for about $400 and then get it repaired by the only mechanic in the entire world that I actually trust. (By the way, Paul's automotive repair in Syracuse, Ut is hands down, the best, most affordable and reliable, oh and did I mention honest, repair shop I have ever been to). Or we could choose the prize behind door number 3. Door number 3 was to leave the van with Jimmie and have his parents find a good mechanic to fix it for us and then sell it down there. Door number three would allow us to shop for a great deal at years end and buy a new van to drive home in.

I don't know if it was the lure of a new mini van, the sweet bucket seats, the fine, stream lined body panels, the under powered stereo, the underpowered engine, the cool drop down mirror that allows a parent to keep an eye on his kids as they destroy the new car interior and eliminate that new cart smell. Or maybe it is the feeling a man gets when he drives down the street in the ultimate chick magnet vehicle. The pride that swells inside your heart when you pull up in a vehicle that you don't really own from a company that the government just bought so that its citizens can still have faith in American made vehicles and an economy that probably wont rebound until the second American revolution........whoa, I may have gotten off track. Let's see, where was I.........? Oh yeah, I am pretty sure it is the dual, manual sliding doors. (We had power sliders in the Honda). I thin it was that, oh and the cool metallic blue paint. That van absolutely shimmered in the 90 degree December sunshine of that Tempe dealer's lot.

Yes, we looked behind door number three and we got a great deal on a stylin', 1 year old mini van. And everything looked great until a guy named Bert got involved. You see, Brandon (can't blame this one on Jimmie or Max) had a friend, a guy he goes to church with, who had done some very good work on some of his vehicles in the past. The guy quoted us about $2000, so we thought, hmmm, it will save us $2400 over a regular shop and Brandon knows the guy. Well, it turned out that Brandon didn't know the guy all that well. He only thought he did.

And so now we have almost come full circle. Back to how I started this blog. Customer service. Honesty, integrity, where the heck has all of that gone? What the heck is wrong with people? As Billy Joel was sang, "honesty, is such a lonely word, everyone is so untrue, honesty is hardly ever heard."

And now... the rest of the story. Bert took about a couple of months to even get started on the job. We sent him money, five times, $2250 (that is $150 less than the stupid shop in Flagstaff). Fine, as long as he does a great job, again, no big deal. Only problem is, he still doesn't have it fixed as of July 23rd. That is 7 months for those of you counting at home. 7 months. So after calling him and leaving at least 6 messages and begging Brandon to call him as well, I finally send him a letter and have Brandon tape it to his door. It went something like this. "Dear Bert, it has been 7 months since we left our van with you and it still isn't fixed. You said it was fixed but it didn't even work long enough for Brandon to get it the 3 blocks to his house from yours. I really need you to fix this so that I can get the van home and sell it. I have been paying a car payment and insurance on it for 7 months. Please fix it soon or I will have to resort to legal action."

Was that too harsh? Apparently it was, because he called up Brandon and cussed him out on his answering machine. Why he called Brandon, I have no idea? Why not call the jerk that sent you the letter? Apparently because he is a moron. Just a guess. FAST FORWARD.

A month later he bumps into Brandon and pulls him aside. " I am gonna fix that van this weekend. Don't worry, I stand behind my work and I will make sure it gets done." FAST FORWARD

It is now October 15th. Is the van fixed? Is it back in my possession? Have a I heard one word, ever from Bert that didn't come through Brandon? NO on all accounts. So I guess it is time to send another letter. This is what it said and I am cutting and pasting this from the email itself:


It has now been about nine months since we left our van with you. You have promised us, through Brandon that you would rebuild and/or fix it on a number of occasions. We have spent plenty of money with you to make this happen and have been wasting our car payment and insurance for all of that time waiting EXTREMELY Patiently for you to keep your word. We can only be left with one conclusion at this point. You are not going to fix it, no matter how much time, money and good faith we give you. So, I must give you a deadline. I want a check as a refund by the end of October. I need a refund on the transmission and a refund on the labor. This amount is a total of $2250.00. Alternatively you can fix the van to Brandon's satisfaction before that day so that I can sell it. It must be able to pass a mechanic's inspection. Please understand our problem rather than getting all bent out of shape when you receive this letter like you did last time I wrote. I have been put out far more than you have here. In fact all that you have had to deal with are some annoying phone calls that you never answer anyway. I, on the other hand, am out thousands of dollars for absolutely nothing. Put yourself in my shoes. What would you do?

Thank you and I will expect a response this week as to what you plan to do.


Was that too harsh? Well apparently it was too. Because this time this very little man actually got up the nerve to call me. First time I have ever heard his voice. He got really mad at me. Said he has saved me over $1000 vs a regular shop. Says that he is washing his hands of me. Says he isn't gonna argue with me about it but that he is going to put a mechanics lien on it if it isn't out of his yard in 24 hours. Says, he will put that lien amount on it for the difference of what he should have charged me. What? Really? Umm, it isn't fixed how can you charge me more for a job you never completed? What? Click!!!!

So there you have it. Was I too impatient? I mean, It hasn't even been a year yet. Were my words to biting and hurtful? Am I expecting too much? Maybe I should be completely satisfied because he gave it a good effort. Maybe I am the jerk here? Maybe I should have looked behind door number 1 or 2? Maybe visiting Max simply because his parents are willing to give us free lodging was a bad idea?

What do you think?

PS. Joan and Brandon have really tried hard to facilitate things for us and for that I am grateful. I mean it isn't their fault that Bert is a completely dishonest and zero integrity individual. Oh, and even though we really did drive all that way primarily for free lodging and to see our adorable nephews, we did have fun with their parents, especially on movie night.

Sunday, September 6, 2009 side of the story

So, my wife always writes these wonderful posts about our family and makes me sound like this great guy. Well, it is time I set the story straight. I am a great guy, however, she deserves everything I do for her and oh, so much more.


It turns out that my genes aren't any better than hers when it comes to keeping babies inside till the due date. So, apparently our first baby together is just aching to get out of there. The Doctor says she needs to rest her body and try not to strain too much. Hmm, if you have ever met Kimberlee you realize that after a day in bed she was freaking out. So much to do and yet she is supposed to either lay there and let someone else do it or watch it just not get done. That just doesn't sit well with her. AT ALL. You see, I could use some bed rest. I have a minimum of 397 things on my plate at any given time and as soon as I unload a small project I have a knack for picking up a couple of bigger ones. So, while she sits in bed.....wait a minute. I can't deceive you anymore. She doesn't lay in bed all that much. In fact last week the first thing she said to me when I got home from work was "I have been researching bed rest on the internet and there isn't any conclusive evidence that it really makes a difference." That's right, she is bound and determined to convince herself and me that this bed rest thing is a waste of her time. Well, I personally question anything that comes from a Doctor anyway, I mean, what do they know? So, while I am not sure that bed rest is a necessary step, I guess I am not convinced that it wont help and secretly, even though my work load has increased, I do get a small bit of a kick out of watching her forced relaxation. That's right, for 2+ years I have ben trying to get my wife to relax and take a deep breath. But, NO, she always has a project that needs to be done. NOW. So, while a couple of more weeks of this might well drive her and possibly me insane, for now it is just a tiny bit fun to watch her forced to relax. (Don't tell her I said that).


Anyway, I was saying that her version of bed rest is probably less like the Doctors version and more like well, lets just say that when I get home, she doesn't seem to have fallen very far behind. I am trying, I promise, I scold her on a regular basis, I really do. But, when the cat is away....well, you get the idea. I mean I went out and bought her the first three seasons of Alias on DVD, I got her chocolates, really super tasty ones and I got our bedroom all re situated so that he has a comfortable place with a beautiful 46 inch HDTV (a little gift I bought myself between wives) to watch. She is an incurable workaholic. Thankfully her chosen profession is wife and mother. So generally I appreciate her ridiculous work ethic. Thanks Mike for that. But, come on baby, you are accomplishing a lot every day even if you just lay there, you are baking what I hope will be a perfectly beautiful and healthy baby inside of you. So take it easy and let me do more. Did, I just say that? I was up till around 2AM three nights last week catching up stuff from our remodel. And then came even more urgent matters, two fantasy football drafts. Thats right, all told I was pretty much up all night all week. But it is ok. My beautiful wifey is worth it and she didn't even complain when I came home from Malachi's football game and took a two hour nap.


I was born to a father who believed that his job was to work hard enough so that he could afford to pay others to build and fix things for him. Now, for most of my adult life I have been of this same mind set. Until now. You see, Kimberlee has no fear of the DIY channel and Doing it for herself is a challenge that she relishes. So, as her husband I have been routinely lassoed into all kinds of projects. Since we have been married I have helped her do a lot of stuff. Thanks to her and her fantastic father I now have a pretty good idea of how to hang doors, casings and baseboards from start to finish. The next project is installing a closet organizer. That's me, Mr fix it. While this might not sound all that impressive to most of you, for me, these a big deal projects. So I am mildly proud of myself. Hopefully all of this will be done soon and I can get back to working with my mind and my mouth and leave my hands to typing out ideas for some new herbal formula.


Apparently the word is getting out that I have developed some pretty good formulas over the years. I was recently approached by an old customer of mine at Vitality. He said that his friend is starting up a brand new company and "needs someone like me." Long story short, I now have a new job of developing a multi vitamin with a twist. Its a pretty serious twist, but I can't spoil it right now. Hopefully it will one day be familiar to many of you. We shall see.

I also was recently approached by another guy that wants me to consult with him on the launch of an existing formula that they want to get into health food store nationwide. This is all pretty exciting, because over the last few years I have really been looking to get myself out there as a useful guy for these kinds of projects and apparently it is working.

10-Day Results launched it's latest two formulas. There are now a total of 6 products in the line and seven and eight are going into development soon. The two new ones are Afterbiotic and Back on Tract. They are sister products, sharing about half of the same ingredients. The Afterbiotic is marketed towards anyone coming off of an antibiotic and the Back on Tract is for anyone with chronic digestive upset. Both are receiving rave reviews in my store and both have already landed in several stores in the U.S. and the U.K. Pretty exciting for me. I now have a total of 10 formulas under 3 different brands in the national marketplace and six of them have crossed over to the U.K. There are stirrings at my distributor that one of my 10-Day Results formulas will end up in Mexico soon too. I'm starting to learn that I really love the product development side of this business.

Well, that is too much for most of you I am sure. Sorry to write so much. Once I get going......

Friday, August 7, 2009

Vitality Radio Facebook Page

Hey all, if you wouldn't mind helping me build up my fan base on Facebook, I would appreciate it. I just launched my Vitality Radio Facebook page. One day, maybe, I will actually do a real blog again.


Vitality Radio on Facebook