Monday, November 8, 2010

Charity should be a 12 month thought

As I say in my book Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male "life is about learning, sharing and helping others." I believe that there are many ways to help out, and not only around the holidays. Most people think that if they act out and donate around the holidays that they are doing a good thing. I'm not arguing that they aren't, I'm just saying that those who are looking for help need it all year long.

I share the wealth with every book that I sell. The Children's Miracle Network is a great organization which raises funds for children's hospitals in many countries. Most months I give 25% of my profits to this charity. But for the rest of 2010, I will be giving 50% instead.

I know not all of you have books that help you donate or can even afford much this year. The economy has really taken a bite out of us 'do-gooders' as many of us continue to struggle just as much as some the charities do. Remember what karma teaches us though--all good deeds will be returned. As the holidays are approaching, this would be a great start to a better new year for all of us. If possible give $10 or $25 if you can afford it...if not, there are many other ways to help out those that need it.

My blogger friend Karen has a great list of how you can help those in your community. Her last blog entry on "Practical Frugality" is a great resource. See for yourself what ideas she has to help those that need it on a daily basis. You'll be surprised how easy it can be.

Did Ya' Ever Notice that when you do something nice for someone else, someone does something for you in return? Let's make it a great holiday for everyone out there this year!

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Reflections

I can't believe it has been over a month since my last post. Things have been very hectic lately. A new teaching job for the wife and a new school for the kid has my life turned upside down. All of a sudden I'm the wake up call, the breakfast maker, the organizer of the mornings, the taxi cab and finally the man I used to be--working 10 hour days at my 'real' job and then trying to write more books while still promoting my first book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male." 

The nights are not much better, what with homework for the kid and grading papers by the wife, I am the maker of dinner, the doer of laundry, the cleaner of the house and finally the man I used to be--the support they both need. But who supports me? They both do but in different ways. It's so nice to see them happy with the choices they have made, the success they both have and the way our family blends together. So my life may have changed, the responsibilities may have changed, and the way we do things may have changed, but we are still the same old family.

This brings me to last Sunday--Halloween. Growing up Halloween was my favorite holiday besides Christmas. These two days meant a lot to me, but in different ways. Christmas brought the broken family together. We'd spend Christmas Eve at my dad's place, being with grandparents and aunts and uncles who we only saw on this day due to the divorce. Then Christmas day was spent at mom's place, socializing with the side of the family who we all knew and loved so well. By stringing these days together it allowed me the luxury to 'pretend' everyone cared.

Halloween was my way of disappearing. I would dress up, well into my twenties, as someone new.The costumes all changed, but they all had one thing in common--a mask of some sort. Just like the main character used 'Disco Phil'  as an alter ego in my book, I used these masks to hide my true identity and become someone I wanted to be. The safety of being unknown was comforting to me. It was a long, hard journey before I believed and accepted myself for who I was.

So last Sunday, I was expecting to walk my kid around the neighborhood trick or treating and seeing all the other 'hidden' beings. But my son surprised me--he said he was too old for all that. He said that he was talking to his friends about Halloween and how they used the holiday the same way I did, to disappear and be someone else. He decided, along with three other friends, that they didn't need to 'hide' anymore. He told me he was comfortable with who he was, that he liked his life, and that the lessons I had written about in the first ten chapters of my book have helped him make new friends and become more accepted by others.

Pretty heavy stuff coming from an eleven year old!

So instead of trick or treating, the three of us sat on our front porch as a family and gave out some candy to those who still use Halloween as a get-away. And I thought about the good old days...and then asked myself
Did Ya' Ever Notice that kids grow up very fast these days?

To see the lessons that I let my son read, and was talking now about, come to http://www.philipnork.com/ and buy my book. I hope they help your sons and daughters understand more about life, too!

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Perception is Your Reality

Did Ya’ Ever Notice that people may see the same thing, but all have different perspectives on what they saw? Here is one example of this—the picture which some people see as two lamps, but others view as two faces instead. Why does this happen? What causes them to see differences in the same event? In my book “Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male” I address this and use the line “Perception is your reality” to explain it. I say that I noticed that men and women are different and process info differently. I also state that neither may be wrong, but that outside influences may affect how they process the information.


Let’s take another example. In my town right now there is a big buzz surrounding the shooting of a man by Metro police at a Costco one busy Saturday in July. They are holding an inquest (like a jury trial) to see if the police were justified in shooting him. As the witnesses start telling their versions of what happened, although they were all present for the same shooting many differences begin to emerge. Does this mean some are right and some are wrong? Probably not, just that they all processed the info differently. Many of the younger witnesses “saw” things in a different way than those who were older. And men saw things different than the women.

The younger people didn’t see a gun being drawn by the man who dies. They saw him make a movement towards his side or back, but never saw a gun. The older witnesses actually saw a gun…but the men saw a black one, while the women saw a silver one. Why the disparity? Could it be how they were brought up? The younger people may have less focus for actual situations which arise. They are so busy with I-Pads, cell phones and such, that maybe they don’t focus in like others. Maybe the older women don’t know much about guns so they just assume they saw a silver one, like the ones they grew up with while watching Gunsmoke or John Wayne movies. The men all saw black ones and could describe it and its holster…most of the other witnesses never saw a holster. Are the men trying to prove they are better at knowing guns, or are they just making this up to feel important?

The younger witnesses remember hearing “Get on the Ground” being said many times by many voices. The older witnesses swear they heard “Drop the Gun and get on the ground” being said two or three times by the same officer. Even the policeman who gave the commands doesn’t remember saying “Drop the gun”, but there it is clear as day on the 911 tape right before “Get on the ground” was said three times. How can so many people hear different things at the same event? Again can age play a part? Nowadays, on most cop shows, you hear “Get on the Ground” or nothing at all as the suspect is being shot with a taser gun. Back in the day when the older witnesses were growing up, “Drop your weapon” was always used. This leads to another point—if the office said “drop your gun” on the tape, wouldn’t it be safe to say the offender was holding a weapon?

Another example of this comes when different people read my book. Some read it as a memoir—thinking everything must be true. Others read it as a fiction story—assuming that all of it is just a story. Even though in the preface of “Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male’ I state that “Everything you read has a basis in truth…some events may have been embellished or altered” the question remains is it truth or fiction? Does it really matter at all?

The younger the reader is, the more they believe it is fiction because they don’t have any situations in their life to compare mine to. The book is about a young boy of the sixties whose parents get a divorce. Nowadays, divorce is very common, but back then it was considered a sin and thus hidden from everyday life. Those involved were shocked and reacted differently than they may in the world today. The older the reader the more they understand the circumstances back then.

The journey the young boy takes as he searches for acceptance and happiness takes him on adventures where he makes mistakes, but doesn’t realize them until much later. Once again, the younger reader doesn’t get this, while the older ones do. Sometimes it is easier to look back at what you did and realize it was wrong than it is to do while your doing it.

The one thing that all who read my book can agree on is that it is "a fascinating story." That "the stories that have emerged are ripe with feeling and diversity." And that "everyone who has felt different at any time of their life will understand the true meaniong behind this book."

In both cases--the shooting and the reading of my book--the perceptions which a person takes away from them are indeed their own reality. Who am I to say if they are right or wrong? All I know is that even when two or more people see (or read) the same thing, the experience isn’t always the same for each. Sometimes your upbringing, your age and those things that you believe in will take precedent in how you perceive what happened and how you react to it.

Obviously you don't want to recreate the shooting, but you can form your own opinions about my book. Why not buy copy from Amazon and see what your reactions will be. Please share them with me here or on http://www.philipnork.com/ under the “Guestbook” tab.

Remember, perceptions really are your own reality. And don’t let anyone tell you any different.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Chapter One of "Sensitivity 101..."

I wanted to do something special for those of you who haven't read my book yet. With school starting soon and the anxiety of starting somethng new in the air, I thought maybe a trip back to when I was in school and the first two lessons that I learned my help you ease the feelings your schoolage choldren have. Maybe by telling this story you may help you child be nicer to those in their classroom or possiibly stop the bullying that sometimes goes on. And it just may make you feel good about people in general.
So here is Chapter One of "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male." 

                                         Jenna

The time between when I was born and when I started fourth grade was pretty normal for me. I was intelligent, funny and the spotlight was shining directly on me. I was always very short for my age, had a buzz cut and was the only one in my class who wore glasses. And even though I was smartest boy in class, I was always anxious about how the other kids saw me. I read many books given to me by Nana and liked to share what I read with the other kids and teachers. The guys didn’t seem interested, while the girls came to me for answers to all their questions. The girls knew I would help them with whatever they asked me for.

My teachers always treated me the best. They said I was sweet, cute and very easy to teach. I wasn’t like the other boys in class who were into fighting, getting dirty and making fun of people. I just wanted to make friends and be accepted by everyone, especially the girls.

All through first grade I was in the same class as Jenna. She was a short, roundish shaped girl who had a beautiful personality. She was the most popular girl in our class and the prettiest. She had long blonde hair that her mom put up in pigtails and always tied with green ribbons. Jenna had freckles on her nose and under her eyes and always seemed to have a radiating glow around her.

Being that we were both smart, Jenna and I were always in the same groups. I often made her laugh with the silly things I did. I had a crush on her but didn’t know what to do about it. I remembered the talk Nana and I had about being different, sincere and making people feel special.

One spring morning, my mom had the radio on during breakfast and the song Up, Up and Away came on. It was a catchy tune, even to a six year old, so I found myself humming it on the way to school. When I reached the schoolyard, all of my classmates were waiting outside for the bell to go in. This was my opportunity to make Jenna feel special and to let her know how I felt about her.

Now I wasn’t a great singer or even a good one, but I put a lot of feeling into everything I did. I started to sing, “Up, up and away with my beautiful, my beautiful Jenna” to the melody in my head. The other kids looked at me like I was crazy, but Jenna had a cute little smile on her face.

I sang this little song every day before school and Jenna would always give me her special smile. It made me feel good inside to be accepted by her. One day during lunch she came up to me, gave me a small hug and said, “I really like being friends.”

I learned my first lesson that day, my great-grandmother was right. If I made someone feel special, was sincere and was a little different in going about it, people would like me and approve of what I did.

                                         * * *

Later in the school year, Jenna had an outdoor birthday party and invited me to come. When I arrived, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Her backyard was completely decorated in her favorite color, which was green. There was green crepe paper, green paper hats and green helium-filled balloons everywhere. Her birthday cake was decorated with green trim and had green icing.

It was a great party and toward the end we gave her presents. Thanks to my grandmother’s influence, mine had a yellow silk rose taped to the box. After we had cake and ice cream, her mom wanted to do something special, so she waved all of us kids close to her and explained her plan.

“Everyone get a balloon.” She said. “Once everyone has one, we will let them fly into the air and I want you to make a wish.” Her intent was to teach us a lesson, and she added, “In life there will be times when you need a friend. Find a friend here today and tie your balloons together, they will fly higher and the chances of your wishes coming true will be better.”

Jenna and I immediately decided to tie our balloons together. As they slowly ascended skyward, Jenna smiled at me and said, “I wanna be friends forever.” As the balloons disappeared from sight, I sang my little song to her while we held hands and agreed to always be friends.

As Jenna and I went through the rest of that school year and the next, almost every morning I would sing my little song to her and she would either smile back at me or give me a little hug that said thanks. Jenna and her family moved away the summer between second and third grade. At the start of third grade, when Jenna did not show up for class, I was devastated. I didn’t know where she had moved to or how to get in touch with her. I started to retreat from the other kids. I didn’t want to get hurt by getting close to someone else only to have them leave, too.

                                         * * *

We changed schools after the sixth grade. By then I was feeling the effects of my parent’s divorce and had retreated further into my own little world. Starting school fresh at a junior high was not going to be fun for me, and I was very anxious. There was only one junior high in our town, so all the grade schools combined into this one for the two years before high school started. This is where I ran into Jenna again.

She was standing amidst a group of girls before the first day of school started and I was very ecstatic to see her again. She still had her freckles and wore her hair in those pigtails with green ribbons, but she had grown. She was taller and skinnier and seemed to be very popular among her new friends. I wanted to say hi to her, but felt very small in the presence of her girlfriends. Not in stature, even though I was still short for my age. I just didn’t feel comfortable around crowds of people, especially ones that I did not know. I wanted to make an impression, but not make an idiot out of myself. I thought back to the first lesson Nana had taught me about being different but sincere.

I walked up behind Jenna and said, “Up, up and away, babe.”

When she heard those words, she spun around and gave me an incredible hug along with that smile of hers. It had not changed throughout the years. It was big, full and made my heart warm.

One of her friends shot me a strange look and asked, “Jenna, who’s the weirdo?”

I was ready to walk away embarrassed. I thought I had made a mistake approaching Jenna in front of her friends.

To my surprise, Jenna replied very gently, “Leave him alone, he isn’t weird. He’s a friend.”

I smiled, thanked her and left. Throughout the next two years every time I saw Jenna I repeated my phrase to her. She always gave me her biggest smile in return.

                                         * * *

High school came and once again Jenna and I attended the same school. But again we went our separate ways. She had new friends, different interests and we never hung out in the same groups. Jenna had continued to be very popular and, to say the least, I was not, nor was I accepted by her new friends. Even though we had drifted apart, every time I would see her I would say “up, up and away, babe” and she always smiled back.

Graduation day finally arrived and even though I had graduated early, I came back to march with my class. Our class that year was one of the school’s largest, around 300 students. Instead of holding the ceremony in the gym, it was held on the football field. They had decorated the field in our school colors, green and white. There were green and white crepe paper streamers everywhere, and on the back of every chair were green and white helium-filled balloons.

We sat through all the ceremonies and finally, after the last diploma was handed out, it was time to celebrate. Normally, that meant the graduates would take off their caps and toss them into the air. This year they were afraid someone would get hurt, so the principal announced that he wanted us to celebrate by letting the balloons fly into the air and make a wish that our dreams would come true.

As soon as he finished saying this, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and there stood Jenna. She asked me, “Do you remember my first grade party when we tied our balloons together and said we’d be friends forever? You were my first friend, and still my best friend.”

I’ve always been a very emotional person, and it became apparent as tears welled up in my eyes.

Jenna asked, “Can we tie our balloons together again like we did back then?”

I nodded and we grabbed two balloons, tied them together and as they flew higher and higher, I began to sing “up, up and away” to her. She smiled her smile that I had gotten to depend on so much and kissed me on the cheek.

Jenna looked at me now with tears in her own eyes, and said, “I’ll never forget how sweet you’ve been. It has meant a lot. Thanks for being you.”

As we watched the balloons disappear we realized that they were both green in color, just like they were so many years ago at her party.

I had no idea that such a small gesture made so long ago could make such a long-lasting impact on someone. Nana was right when she told me to be sincere and to treat the girls special. And by being different, I had cemented a small place in Jenna’s life. For a short amount of time, we had become one. We touched each other in ways that no one else could relate to. We shared a connection that was as pure as a friendship can be.

I have not seen Jenna since that day, so I do not know if she still remembers me or not. But every time I see a balloon ascending into the sky, I feel the magic of her smile.

 I learned two lessons from this experience:

 1) Be different, sincere, and make females feel special.
 2) Girls remember and cherish the small things that they experience.

So there you have it. The rest of the first ten chapters of the book relate similar lessons and also list what they are. I think these lessons can be used by both males and females, and that everyone should use them to the best of their ability.

Did Ya' Ever Notice that when people try to get along the world is a much better place?

Monday, August 16, 2010

One Hand Helps the Other

There are many charities out there that need our help. I have decided to share my profits with one of them, The Children's Miracle Network. So check out this press release that was sent out to the public through my PR lady and my page on Facebook. Please share with your friends.

                                    
Author Uses Book as a way to Generate Donations for The Children’s Miracle Network

Henderson, Nevada author Philip Nork utilized his down time on business trips to Arizona and New Mexico to pen a “highly entertaining and unique trip back in time.”

“Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male…Lessons Learned from the Fairer Sex” is the story of one boy’s journey after the divorce of his parents as he searches for the two desires that all humans share: to be accepted by others and to be truly happy. “The stories that have emerged are ripe with feeling and diversity,” says one reviewer.

“…shares some very mature perspectives, ones that any prudent parent or anyone working with children would be well served to read. The content precisely lives up to its title. One of the most soothing reads I’ve ever read,” says another.

Phil also shares the wealth…he normally donates 25% of his profits to The Children’s Miracle Network to help raise funds for children’s hospitals throughout the country. But this holiday season (September through December) Phil will instead donate 50% of his profits to this great charity.

The book is available at amazon.com in paperback, hardcover and Kindle editions. For an autographed copy, search “Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male” on EBay. And for even more information go to www.PhilipNork.com or send him an e-mail at pnork2@yahoo.com

“A self-help book for people who don’t like self-help books! It gives the reader an insight into women, relationships, and how to love yourself without the preaching tone of a self-help manual.”

“A recommended top pick…one not to be missed."                  Midwest Book Reviews

Did Ya' Ever Notice that you feel better when you're helping those who can't help themselves?

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The latest review of Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male

Here is the latest 5-star (yellow rose) review. This one from Fran Lewis.

Everyone wants to fit in with others their own age. Understanding the shortcomings and differences among people your own age and being accepted for who you are, even if you are not the most handsome or beautiful person on this planet, is difficult for any adolescent to handle.
As the author recounts and relates to the reader the story of his life and coming of age, we not only learn much about this interesting man but ourselves too. Entering the life and taking the journey along with Phil back in time everyone can learn the many lessons his grandmother taught him about people in general. Learning to handle simple situations, extending a hand of friendship and understanding and embracing the differences in people are just part of what our author wants to impart to the reader. Just being nice to someone new in your class or sharing a common interest or just saying hello, small gestures, kind words are often much more meaningful than you know. If everyone took heed of what is written in this thought provoking, mind stimulating and unique novel, we would have a definite recipe for world peace and understanding. Just think what would happen if everyone really heard and listen to the viewpoints of others and understood different points of view. What would happen if instead of poking fun at a new person in your class or someone that is different and does not dress the same as you, you went out of your way to compliment them on something they said or did, wouldn’t that be great?
Philip Nork saw life in a different way growing up. Close to his great-grandmother and losing her at a young age, he reverted back into himself and felt life and God had dealt him a bad hand. Teaching him to be sensitive and understanding of others and responding positively to their needs, desires and wishes would endear you to people and help you to develop lifelong friendships. Making it even more difficult was his parent’s divorce and becoming man of the house at eight years of age. This would make anyone grow up too fast.
The bond and connection he had with her truly helped to set the tone for the many relationships he would have with girls, women and people in the future. What I really love is the list that he developed over the years through each of his relationships that would help build his character, his strength and his ability to handle many situations as he grew to maturity. Respecting and understanding people and being sincere are the first things that his great-grandmother instilled in him.
The person that I was closest to growing up was my grandmother. She truly understood me and tried to make me feel special. Being overweight, not very pretty and shy, I stood in the background a lot at parties, family events and in school. I was smart and always got good grades but never felt comfortable answering questions and fostering friendships with people that I did not know. She taught me to accept myself for the kind and caring person that I was and hope I still am and that eventually everyone will learn to judge me not just for my outer appearance.
Every story that he tells about his early life and his encounters with girls endears you to him even more. The way each girl entered his life and taught him an important life lesson is heartwarming and enlightening. This book would make a great handbook or guide for every young person who feels out of place and not like everyone else. I could have used this book growing up.

Each girl offered him many life lessons in how to deal with his awkward appearance, being introverted and allowing his emotions to come forth. Phil learned a lot from so many and appreciated each and every friend that he made. While photographing the cheerleading team he enlisted the trust of these beautiful girls and was able to create pictures that told a story. How special!
Creating a list of all the things he learned from his Nana and these girls provides a valuable resource for anyone who wants to begin changing their outlook on life and learning to assimilate better with their peers. It’s the small things that people do and the kind words that definitely make a difference.

Phil developed more than one personality. He was shy and introverted in school and felt that he could disappear into his own skin and not be seen. At night or with friends such as Joyce, Cece and others, he first went to the skating rink with a group of lesbian girls and was treated in a unique and special way and his outer most personality came forth.
Always concerned about making girls and others feel special I began to feel that Phil was losing sight of himself and what would make him truly happy. Listening to others, caring for them and helping them to feel good is what these girls wanted from him in the long run, as there were no long lasting attachments. But, what did Phil need and what would Nana truly want for him? Would this life of experiencing intimacy with so many girls without any feelings for them be the right course or would she want something else. You would have to read the many chapters where you hear not only his words but also the inner most thoughts and desires of these girls to decide for yourself whether Phil was really himself or someone else all the time. Who was this mild mannered great guy who treated women special and made them feel whole? What about him?
One girl named Mary who set the train in motion. One girl named Kayla who accelerated it even more. One young man named Phil who spread himself quite thin to please so many girls because he thought they would feel special. A giant at the rink, at work and now becoming more known at school, but for what reasons other to please others and give them pleasure. Sometimes when we try to get noticed by others we lose sight of what our real purpose is in doing so.
As his story draws to a close the reader might wonder what would have happened if Nana did not die? What would have happened if so many of those he cared about remained in his life? What would have happened if his father were a constant in his life while growing up? What things would have happened differently or would he have remained an introvert and stay to himself young man with a soft heart, kind face and wonderful personality?
Roses make you feel special when given for the right reasons. Yellow means friendship and white means respect and much more. Never give a red rose unless you are sure you will only give it to the one person who rocks your world and will be with you forever.
Phil experiences many turning points in both his family and social lives. He comes full circle with many issues that young people are still facing today. Making a career of helping women to feel good and profiting from it did not turn him into the person he hoped to become. Many used him for their own self- gratification. Others pretended to befriend him for other reasons. Read this book and learn the lessons that Phil finally came to grasp at the end. Take the journey through life with him as he comes full circle from start to finish in his own search for his true identity.

As he drifts off to sleep and hears the voice of his Nana he is reminded of the joy, happiness and goodness he brought to others by being sensitive to their needs and wants, even if it was in an unorthodox manner. Keeping his faith in God, understanding and hearing his voice and remembering as he so aptly states: “ there is no such thing as an ending, only new beginnings.”

Author Phil Nork presents a straightforward, insightful, and heartwarming story of a young man who finally got it. Unselfish, caring and always putting the needs of others before his, Phil travels in a fast world of women seeking their own pleasures at the exclusion of his. As his Nana reminds him: Love, Respect and building a relationship with God has always been there for him.
This is a well written and informative novel will help adults, young teens and young adults learn the answers to many questions concerning these issues. Read the ending, hear his voice and read the last chapter as author Phil Nork lists his lessons in life that we can all learn and apply not just to relationships with the opposite sex, but in other real life situations too.

I never give stars when rating a book:
I give this book FIVE YELLOW ROSES SYMBOLIZING FRIENDSHIP and one more just from me. I would be honored to be your friend.


Fran Lewis Reviewer

Fran, thank you for taking the time read and review my book. I am glad you got so much out of it. It makes me feel justified in writing it. You have opened my eyes to another set of readers who may connect with it-those who feel left out for whatever reason.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

A Re-post from days gone by

I have been doing a lot of reviews lately for other authors, hoping to get some kind of reciprocation. So far, not too much has come my way. But I believe everything happens for a reason and most times good things happen to those who wait. Because I have been so busy reading, I haven't been writing. So this is a re-post from a few months ago. I hope you enjoy it.
In my book, "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male...Lessons Learned from the Fairer Sex" I tell you about my "Happy Place" and how I found it after listening to my first girlfriend as we discussed some anxious moments that I encountered. She told me to close my eyes and picture the one place I always felt safe and comfortable at. It's been a long time since I visited that location...but had a chance last week to re-explore it.

I had just returned from a week long business trip and was dreading the work week coming up. My days are full of e-mails, phone calls, and social media (both work and personal). I sometimes long for the days before "technology"...the days when you could actually get lost and no one could find you. Long before answering machines, pagers, cell phones and e-mails life seemed so much simpler and much easier to live.
On Sunday morning I couldn't wake up...my throat was sore, my head was pounding, and I was way too congested. I knew I was sick and that it would only get worse with time. I used all the energy I could muster and went to my computer...I sent a quick e-mail to my work team saying that I was going to be out for a few days and that they would need to find other means of help if they needed it. Then I went to my facebook page and stated that I wasn't going to post for a few days. Finally, I did the impossible...I turned off my cell phone.
For the next few days, I couldn't get out of bed. I slept, I tossed and turned, and I found myself alternating between being way too hot and way too cold. I thought I was miserable.
On Thursday I felt better, but still not well enough to get out of bed. I lay on my bed looking for a sign that all would be better. That's when I fell asleep and ended up back at my "Happy Place." I "awoke" and felt the bright sunshine beating down on my face. The aromas from my past--hamburgers being grilled on an open campfire, the smell of freshly cut green grass, and the lingering scent coming from the seaweed that had washed upon the beach over night--all were present. I knew I was in Wisconsin at my great-grandparent's cottage which meant so much to me as I grew up. After what seemed to me like being there forever, just taking in the view of the lake from the hillside I was laying on, I suddenly awoke for real. I was in my own bed, but was feeling much better.
The next day I woke up bright and early feeling totally refreshed...but I wasn't done yet. I dreaded turning on my cell phone and listening to all the recorded voicemails. I could not believe that after 5 days there were no voicemails at all. I did have one text message from a phone number that I didn't recognize. It said, "Hope you feel better soon...we all need rest sometime." When I tried to call the number, it was disconnected.
Next, I turned on my computer to await the hundreds of e-mails that I assumed were awaiting my return from the dead. On my work system, which normally handled over 100 e-mails a day, I was surprised to say the least when there were only 12 e-mails. No one besides my team knew I was sick...and in fact all eight of my team members sent me the same message..."Relax, you have trained us well...we'll take care of everything."
I wondered what was happening...could this be a hidden sign for me to understand?
As I clicked onto my personal e-mail, again I was surprised when only 20 e-mails showed up (many days I get well over 20 spam e-mails a day alone.) I clicked on some of the "important" ones and found out that there were no important ones at all. I was dumbfounded, but not as confused as I was about to become. The last e-mail bore the name of a person I did not know, but I felt compelled to open it. When I did, I read "Hope you feel better soon...we all need rest sometime." I attempted to reply to this e-mail, but was a little disappointed when I got a quick return saying that the e-mail address did not exist and could not be delivered.
I went to my facebook page to see many of my friends leaving me notes of encouragement and the hopes that my sickness would disappear quickly.
I went back to my bed to ponder what all this meant. This is what I came up...tell me your opinions of it, please!
In this world that moves way too fast sometimes, one where people feel much more important than they really are, and the feeling of not having anytime alone to themselves anymore, I was able to find out that all this is false. The world DOES move fast, but you control just how fast. I am no more important than anyone else in this world, and there is always time to go to your "Happy Place" if you make the effort.
I say in my book that God works in miraculous ways...and I believe this was His way of saying to me "Slow down and relax..." I don't know if God knows how to text message, or how to send e-mails, or can control how much others need you from time to time, but I do know He cares for all of us...and sometimes interacts with you to allow you to make the best of it.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Book Review: Waiting For Spring

Here is another review from an author who swapped PDF's with me.

The feeling I have after reading “Waiting for Spring” by RJ Keller is one of hopefulness.

Immediately after meeting the main character, Tess, I had a feeling of connection with her. She is an ordinary middle-aged woman who has some baggage she carries around (like the rest of us) and some deep-seeded fears just waiting to come out.
From her mother she gets nothing but hatred…about messing up her plans for life, about Tess’s ill attempt at marriage and the decision she made about not wanting kids which results in her divorce and about a secret the two share, but never discuss.
From her father, who she believes never loved her mother, she gets nothing but excuses and ignored. She feels like he has given up on life and wants nothing more than for him to be happy again.
When Tess’s husband wakes up at thirty-five and decides he wants a family--the one thing Tess never wanted--(Or does she?) she runs away into the arms of another man, but only for one night. Unfortunately a divorce is imminent.
Tess moves on to a new town, but all of her “problems” follow her. And as she tries to start over more and more “problems”, some hers and some from the people she meets, continue to follow her. But they all disappear when she is having sex with Brian.
Although Brian and Tess are in love, old responsibilities and life get in the way. Neither is strong enough to forget and just live in the moment. Fear is the underlying factor that both must conquer. Fear that they are not perfect.
The internal struggle to be the best you can be is scattered all through the book. Fear and past decisions weigh heavy on every character. So much so that they aren’t living their own lives, they are living how others think they should. Sometimes we as humans keep things inside, deep down, away from others, hoping these demons will go away on their own. Most times they don’t, they just get buried deeper, making it even harder to relate to day to day occurrences. The same happens here.
Through it all Tess just wants to be accepted and loved and happy once again.
And she holds on for Spring to arrive, because winter means death (like the barren trees and lack of colors), while Spring brings new life and the colors that she loves, just like the best present she ever received as a child--a 72 pack of crayons with names of colors that she never heard of before.
The story is typical--hardship, love, broken love and starting over. The writing of RJ Keller is not. It is a well written, heart wrenching portrayal of a woman who knows she deserves more than the hand she was dealt. The inner thoughts of Tess are put into sentences, letting you understand what she is thinking, even as she is saying something completely different. Once I started reading, I couldn’t put the book down. This is just another example of an author, not well-known, who should be. The characters, the plot and the ending all make this a book well worth reading.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Book Review "Memoirs from the Aslyum"

"Did Ya' Ever Notice" is all about finding things that others miss or don't take the time to see. Most of the times I will be posting about things that I see while out in the world and asking the question...
This week is a little different.
Sometimes I trade my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" with another author and we do reviews of each other's work on Amazon. This is one of those weeks.
I was able to read Keeneth Weene's "Memoirs from the Asylum" and was shocked at what I read. The book is a behind the scenes look at mental illness and the life the people who live in these institutions lead. It was a hard read, not because it wasn't written well-- it was written extremely well--it was just the subject matter and how open Mr. Weene was able to convey it.
Anyway, read my whole review and then read the book.

In “Memoirs from the Asylum” Kenneth Weene allows the reader to enter a world most of us pray we never have to…the world of mental illness and the effects it has on both the victims and those that are paid to help them.
There’s Marilyn, the catatonic schizophrenic, who spends all of her time seeing an altogether different world through a crack in her bedroom wall. It’s the world she once related to and is populated by those of her past who meant something to her. How will she respond when the crack gets repaired?
Dr. Buford Abrose is the first year resident who also has seen his share of problems. From a loveless marriage to the feelings of failure on his part when he can’t balance the paperwork aspect of the job from the actual attempt to make a difference, he is caught within the walls of the asylum. The closer he tries to understand the patients, the farther he falls from his own life.
The unfeeling workers of the asylum add to the misery and complications these, and the other characters, of the book experience. Their answers normally include medications and isolation for the patients…or is it for themselves?
There is a feeling of connection between these characters that becomes apparent as the book goes on. Although they all react in their own way, the connection that they share is that of fear. Fears that were brought on by the “real world” when they were younger…probably none of their own doing. Possibly a death of someone close, maybe the physical abuse of a parent or friend…something made these people afraid and wanting to escape. Now that they did, all they really want is freedom, whatever that means to them.
In the unique style of narration, Weene allows us to see what really happens in the minds of those that are institutionalized. Sometimes the book was hard to read, using words and imagery that the normal person may not understand or relate to and was lacking an actual plot, but somehow at the end it all comes together.
Not one to be a spoiler, all I can say is that “Memoirs from the Asylum” is a book that everyone should read and at the same time pray to the God of your choice that the freedom you have is the freedom that you really want.

So "Did Ya' Ever..." find something that others never have? That's how I feel after reading this book. Another unknown author who should be well known. Do yourself a favor and get "Memoirs from the Asylum."

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Traveling is getting more difficult...

I travel way too much--my job demands it and marketing of my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" asks it, so I do it. It used to be fun...now it's just tiring.

It starts out by getting to the airport. Luckily I live a few miles away from the local one, so I can leave a lot later than most have to. I already know the patterns of my airport and realize that Tuesday is the best day to leave and Saturday is the best day to return. The worst day to return is Thursday night...everyone comes to Vegas on Thursday after work. Monday is a bad day to leave also, especially in the late afternoon.

Business people know all this and adjust thier schedules to accomodate the best situations. Unfortunately regular travelers don't. They have trouble getting through security--it's only been about 5 years that you can't take water through, that you must empty your pockets, and that you must take off your shoes--is it that difficult? Families are the worse, but I understand that and never get behind one.

Then comes the flight itself. I only fly Southwest, a great company. Again though only business people get it. How hard is it to line up in order, why do the regulars not understand the routine? Then they get mad when the guy letting them on the plane tells them to get back in line.

Once on the plane, these people look like cattle, just following the person in front of them. They all want an aisle seat or look for "their" seat. Southwest has open seating-- do you think you'd know that after you make your reservation?

Luckily I can fall asleep on any plane trip.

Finally, the worse is when you reach the hotel. Most doors close on their own, so you don't have to help them. Yet, I am constantly awakened by the slamming of hotel doors at night and in the morning. Again do this once and learn, people!

Traveling is something I must do, so I will. But it sure isn't as fun as it used to be.

"Have Ya' Ever Noticed" that traveling is more work than actual work?

Monday, June 21, 2010

A new title, but the same old thing...

So this morning I changed the title of the blog to "Did Ya' Ever Notice...? Unfortunately I was running out of random acts of kindness to talk about. They were all the same, like donating to a certain charity (and there are so many nowadays), thanking someone for a kind review of my book, or helping out someone who has more of a need. I'll still use some of these but I notice things all the time and want to talk about it. Here is my forum, and yours too. Share with me and the readers what you notice as you go through your day--interesting, stupid or just amusing--let's share them all!

The first thing I noticed yesterday was that it was Father's Day and no one missed it. 95% of the posts on Facebook were about dads--even those people trying to sell a product tied it into Father's Day. I read about young dads, older dads, and even some great memories about dads who have passed away. It was rather refreshing that everyone had something good to say. I felt happy about the world, at least for a day. Even the news had a happy spin on it.

Wouldn't it be a cool thing of every day could be a holiday? People seem happier, more together with each other and actually make each other smile. Why can't we make every day a holiday, like "Smile at the opposite sex day?" or "Shake hands with a different race day?" or "Say hello to everyone day?" We really are all the same inside, that's what the posts I read yesterday were all about. It didn't matter if you are young or old, married or siingle, black or white or whatever--everyone had something in common on this one day-their father. They shared feelings and experiences very openly with anyone who was their "friend." Why can't we all be friends? Why can't every day make us feel like we did yesterday? Can't we all just get along?

"Did Ya' Ever Notice" that we are more alike than different?

Saturday, June 5, 2010

What's In Green Tea That Makes It So Good For You...

Growing up I loved to drink lemonade with a sprig of mint floating on top, thanks to my great-grandmother. You can read about her and her famous lemonade in my book Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male. As I grew up my tastes have changed a bit and now I love green tea. No sweetners, no additives, just plain iced green tea.

Last week I wrote a post about green tea (already taken down) and what is in it that makes it so healthy for you. Well, I made a mistake...I found out that the list of ingredients was actually an article written by Steven Popec for the website ESP Emporium, a great website about tea of all kinds and a place you can order it from. I never intended to "steal" his work, I thought it was just a list made up by a Facebook friend. Well, again I was wrong and I apologize. The article is a great one though and you can read the whole thing here... http://blog.espemporium.com/post/So-Whats-Really-in-Green-Tea.aspx

I always knew green was good for me, just didn't know how much. Thanks to Steve and the people at ESP Emporium I have been educated, both in tea and watching for copywrites. Hope all ends well with them.

So what makes you feel good? Leave me a comment about that, or if you have seen a random act of kindness that I can share in an upcoming post. One such act follows:

I have a blogger friend who has a daughter that needs some help. She is trying to raise money on her own to help with a medical device she needs---well. let's have her say it better.

Ana was recently disgnosed with scoliosis and needs a special kind of brace which is not covered by insurance. She needs the brace as soon as possible and has set up a website to sell her artwork to raise the funds. It would mean a lot if my readers could take a look. I appreciate everyone who follows this blog and hope to be posting more often again soon. http://anasart.weebly.com/

How about checking out her website and seeing if any of her artwork appeals to you? She really could use the help.

So both an apology and a random act of knidness this week.
Until next week,

Phil

Monday, May 3, 2010

When Fate Comes A Knockin'

I have been very lucky lately. My Facebook page for my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" has been getting many, many visits. The book has sold more copies in the last month than it has in the eight months it has been on the market...finally the buzz has caught on! One of the people who visited was Darcia Helle, a suspense writer who has a much bigger following than I do. We exchanged books and did reviews on each other. Darcia spent a lot of time and effort promoting my book, seems she enjoyed what she read. She posted her review all over the internet and also did an interview with me that she posted on her blog, A Word Please.

Because "One Good Turn Deserves Another" here is my review of Miami Snow, Darcia's new book.

Nick Donovan had it all—the wife of his dreams, a big house, a career he loved—but they all left him one day when he arrived home early to find his wife in bed with his best friend. What will he do when fate steps in and changes his life forever?

Sometimes fate has a surprise in store for you and Nick will find this out, but not before his life bottoms out. He is mad at the world, at his ex-wife Shelley in particular, and wallows for a time in self pity. Moving across the state to “find himself” he instead finds Brandy Alexander, named by her father in honor of the alcoholic drink. She is just like the drink--a little sweet, easy on the eyes and an addiction Nick can’t get enough of.
As Nick and Brandy begin a relationship that neither really was looking for, Shelley throws a monkey wrench in their plans. Her baby, who she hoped her new boyfriend was the father of, is actually Nick’s.
Nick didn’t want to be a father this way. He always planned on a family, but not on a short term basis. Instead of thinking about his daughter first, he is hell-bent on torturing Shelley. As he slowly changes his tune and begins to truly love his daughter, Brandy changes too…unfortunately for the worst. Money issues, the love of excitement and smoking weed lead to bigger and more dangerous drugs and adventures.
As fate sometime does, it leads Brandy and Nick on two separate paths…although the relationship continues. Lies and difference of opinions take the place of the daily sex Nick and Brandy share. As Nick matures and grows up living his life for his daughter, Brandy, thinking she is doing the right thing, continues on the path of self destruction.
Not wanting to be a spoiler, that’s where I’ll stop. Just know that fate happens to all of us, but also remember, like Nick says, “Sometimes fate needs a push.” And that all the characters eventually get exactly what they deserve.
Fast paced, interesting characters that are so lifelike that you are sure you know them, and a believably written plot and back story makes “Miami Snow” a must read. Whether you like mystery, suspense, self-help or even romance genres, this has it all.

The longer I am in this business, the more I see that many authors are friendly and will help others out...the complete opposite feeling I had when I first started. Although others are still very much driven by ego and believe that their works are "the best" most are just ordinary people with a story to tell. Thanks to people like Darcia Helle I am enjoying this part of my journey much more.

Tell us about your experineces...leave a comment!

Till next week
Phil

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Back to the normal routine

Well it's been a long few weeks. First I was sick, then I had a long two week business trip to Florida and Arizona...but now all that is over and I'm back to the normal grind.
The meeting I was in Arizona was an eventful one. Met many new folks, re-connected with some old friends and sold some books. I'm finding that if you sit in the lobby of any hotel and talk with someone about your book, more are soon to follow...
I was signing a book for an old friend and as we were talking a young lady about 30 sat down next to us and "eavesdropped" until she felt comfortable enough to join in. After buying a book, she asked how long I would be around. I said I'd be in the hotel for three more days and asked why. She said she was going to read the book by the pool and if she liked it would like to meet again for more conversation. So, I gave her my cell number and forgot about her.
The next night I was eating at our company dinner and my phone went off. It was "Cindy." She wanted to meet me in the lobby...so I excused myself and went to see what may come of this chance meeting.
Cindy said that she was very intrigued by my story. As she asked me more and more questions, I felt like I was on an interview or something. After about 20 minutes of questions and answers, Cindy came to her point--she was a buyer for a chain of gift shops, many in hospitals. She asked if she could buy some books for her shops. I am always open to selling my books, as all authors are, so I asked how many she needed. I was stunned when she said 1000. After getting my breath back, we finalized the deal...I thought that was the end of our meeting, but was surprised again as Cindy gave me a list of other buyers that she does business with and suggested I e-mail them all using her as a reference.
This is the second time this has happened to me...the first was back when "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" first came out and a man on a plane ride to Las Vegas bought the same amount from me for his family owned gift shops after seeing the lady next to us start crying as she read my book. I gave it to her as a bribe so I could get some sleep on the plane.
You know I have a few sayings in life that I live buy--but this one is my favorite. "Sometimes it's better to be lucky than smart." All I do is talk about my book, and carry one everywhere, and good things happen.
To those authors out there--how do you market your books? Any good stories like mine floating around? Please share!

Until next week!

Phil

Sunday, April 11, 2010

The shortest post I've ever written...

Since I was out sick last week, I need your help. Please share with us any acts of kindness that you witnessed or took part in. I know we will see some great comments.

Monday, April 5, 2010

A Trip Back to the Past Re-Energizes

In my book, "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male...Lessons Learned from the Fairer Sex" I tell you about my "Happy Place" and how I found it after listening to my first girlfriend as we discussed some anxious moments that I encountered. She told me to close my eyes and picture the one place I always felt safe and comfortable at. It's been a long time since I visited that location...but had a chance last week to re-explore it.

I had just returned from a week long business trip and was dreading the work week coming up. My days are full of e-mails, phone calls, and social media (both work and personal). I sometimes long for the days before "technology"...the days when you could actually get lost and no one could find you. Long before answering machines, pagers, cell phones and e-mails life seemed so much simpler and much easier to live.

On Sunday morning I couldn't wake up...my throat was sore, my head was pounding, and I was way too congested. I knew I was sick and that it would only get worse with time. I used all the energy I could muster and went to my computer...I sent a quick e-mail to my work team saying that I was going to be out for a few days and that they would need to find other means of help if they needed it. Then I went to my facebook page and stated that I wasn't going to post for a few days. Finally, I did the impossible...I turned off my cell phone.

For the next few days, I couldn't get out of bed. I slept, I tossed and turned, and I found myself alternating between being way too hot and way too cold. I thought I was miserable.

On Thursday I felt better, but still not well enough to get out of bed. I lay on my bed looking for a sign that all would be better. That's when I fell asleep and ended up back at my "Happy Place." I "awoke" and felt the bright sunshine beating down on my face. The aromas from my past--hamburgers being grilled on an open campfire, the smell of freshly cut green grass, and the lingering scent coming from the seaweed that had washed upon the beach over night--all were present. I knew I was in Wisconsin at my great-grandparent's cottage which meant so much to me as I grew up. After what seemed to me like being there forever, just taking in the view of the lake from the hillside I was laying on, I suddenly awoke for real. I was in my own bed, but was feeling much better.

The next day I woke up bright and early feeling totally refreshed...but I wasn't done yet. I dreaded turning on my cell phone and listening to all the recorded voicemails. I could not believe that after 5 days there were no voicemails at all. I did have one text message from a phone number that I didn't recognize. It said, "Hope you feel better soon...we all need rest sometime." When I tried to call the number, it was disconnected.

Next, I turned on my computer to await the hundreds of e-mails that I assumed were awaiting my return from the dead. On my work system, which normally handled over 100 e-mails a day, I was surprised to say the least when there were only 12 e-mails. No one besides my team knew I was sick...and in fact all eight of my team members sent me the same message..."Relax, you have trained us well...we'll take care of everything."

I wondered what was happening...could this be a hidden sign for me to understand?

As I clicked onto my personal e-mail, again I was surprised when only 20 e-mails showed up (many days I get well over 20 spam e-mails a day alone.) I clicked on some of the "important" ones and found out that there were no important ones at all. I was dumbfounded, but not as confused as I was about to become. The last e-mail bore the name of a person I did not know, but I felt compelled to open it. When I did, I read "Hope you feel better soon...we all need rest sometime." I attempted to reply to this e-mail, but was a little disappointed when I got a quick return saying that the e-mail address did not exist and could not be delivered.

I went to my facebook page to see many of my friends leaving me notes of encouragement and the hopes that my sickness would disappear quickly.

I went back to my bed to ponder what all this meant. This is what I came up...tell me your opinions of it, please!

In this world that moves way too fast sometimes, one where people feel much more important than they really are, and the feeling of not having anytime alone to themselves anymore, I was able to find out that all this is false. The world DOES move fast, but you control just how fast. I am no more important than anyone else in this world, and there is always time to go to your "Happy Place" if you make the effort.

I say in my book that God works in miraculous ways...and I believe this was His way of saying to me "Slow down and relax..." I don't know if God knows how to text message, or how to send e-mails, or can control how much others need you from time to time, but I do know He cares for all of us...and sometimes interacts with you to allow you to make the best of it.

Till next week,
Phil

Monday, March 22, 2010

Chapter 3- Does time knowing someone influence what you can learn from them?

I was just sitting here thinking. There are many times when you run into someone--maybe at the grocery store, at the gas station or possibly at work or school--and you wonder why they came into your life at that precise moment. That led me to ponder--does the amount of time you know someone influence how much you can learn from them?
In Chapter 3 of my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" I introduce you to "Julie" a friend of mine from fourth grade. She had moved from Wyoming to our little town and no one seemed to accept her. After a week of questioning myself, I finally approached her and we became friends. Lucky I did...I learned number 4 of my lessons from her. She taught me to "see the difference in everyone and celebrate it." Julie was only in my life for a few months, but without her I would have never learned that special lesson that I use all the time, even 40 years later. I wonder, how often does that happen to you?
This same basic incident happened just last month to me again. I met a young girl who had just graduated from college and majored in marketing. I met her in a coffeeshop as I was re-writing another one of my manuscripts. She asked to read my book and then decided that she wanted me to be her first client. Without her and her expertise, my book would just be sitting on Amazon getting no playing time...she has helped already with generating a buzz here locally. She is using ideas I never would have thought of. All just by meeting someone in a coffeeshop and starting a conversation. How many of you would have just pushed her aside?
So again I ask, like I do many times in my book, is someone or sonething else running our lives...are we just playing out parts in someone else's manuscript of life? Why do these people continue to "pop up" in our lives and just how many of us really listen to these strangers that come to us from elsewhere?
Listen, I don't know about you, but I look for these special people to enter my life and I thank God everytime one of them does. The time I know someone means nothing to what they can  teach me. Keep your eyes and ears open for those that are sent to help you. They're all around...do you know how to spot them?

Till next week,

Phil

Monday, March 15, 2010

Courtesy...Is it a Thing of the Past?

Growing up and referenced many times in my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" is a thing called courtesy--treating others with the respect they deserve. You know things like holding open a door for the next person to step through or holding an elevator, possibly using your turn signal when changing lanes or turning, and always walking to the right of the middle. These all used to be common place occurrences you would see every day. But something has happened...where have these things gone?
People seem to be much more "me" orientated these days...gone are the days of helping others or even just being friendly. What I see daily are people fighting over the last sample at a Costco demo cart, sneaking into someone else's parking space and it seems like no one even smiles at each other any more. When is the last time you said good morning to a stranger?
So with all this happening why should I be surprised that business courtesy is also missing--all businesses are run by these same people.
This subject came up as I was discussing book reviews with my editor. He asked how things were going and my reply was "There doesn't seem to be any trust any more in the world. I am getting e-mails daily from "respectable" companies or people who would love to read and review my book. They say they have read the first 25 pages from my website http://www.philipnork.com/ and really would like the opportunity to help promote my book. So I send them a copy, spending $5.00 for a postage fee, and wait...and wait...and wait! One out of every 4 of these businesses never get back to me. Does that mean they never received the book, or maybe read it and didn't like it, or possibly was it a scam just to get a free book? "
I don't have the answers...maybe I don't even know the questions anymore...but all I ask is for a quick e-mail explaining why there is no review done. If you don't like the book, that's fine. If you didn't understand it, no problem, if it just wasn't your cup of tea, I truly understand. What I don't get is why you spend your time e-mailing me in the first place and then never follow through.
Courtesy...is it a thing of the past? Or am I just ranting on and on about nothing? Come on authors, I am sure you have had this or something like this happen to you. Please share your vents here with me...maybe we can make a difference!

Monday, March 1, 2010

A roller coaster of a week...

Last week reminded me of growing up--there were so many ups and downs, goods and bads, and just plain old emotional stuff that I was finally glad it ended.
To start the week on Sunday, I had my ten year old son call his grandmother in Illinois to wish her a happy 70th birthday. They talked for a while and then it was my turn. As my mom and I hung up I felt the tug of tears come over me and wished that we lived closer than the distance between Illinios and Nevada. After gaining control, I read the parts of my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male" which pertained to her and started crying again. This time it was more from a sense of happiness rather than a sad reason.
On Tuesday I went and picked up my son from school, stopped for a Starbucks and preceeded home. As we walked into the front door we were surprised by the presence of two ladies sitting on our couch talking to my wife...it was my sister and my mom. Nowhere in the converstaion of a few days earlier did she mention she was coming to visit. It turned out to be my sisters birthday present to her...but it also was a gift to me and my son.
After spending a few days together and reconnecting, they left and those sad feelings came over me again. But that was nothing in comparision to what happened on Friday. I got an e-mail on facebook from one of my old friends from back home...she was worried about her ex-husband, one of my best friends. He had just learned that his father had terminal cancer and only had a few months to live. His dad was one of only a handful of men I ever trusted growing up--he was like a second father to me, actually a first father as mine had left years earlier. I called my friend and we shared old times and left with the understanding that his dad would be out of pain soon and that he should celebrate the times left.
I was feeling rather down after these events and it made me think about age and how time never stops passing us by. That took me back to my grandmother and great-grandmother, I talk about them in the book, and again the feelings of depression came over me...actually it was more of a feeling of remembrance.
On Saturday morning I woke up to another e-mail, this one from a lady who read my book and reviewed it. It turned my whole week around. Nicole wrote a great review and asked me for an interview. You can read both of them at Books, Books Everywhere.
It is now Monday and I am looking for an act of kindness. I guess that all three of these times above fall into that category. To my mom and my sister for just being themselves and for coming to see us, to my best friend's dad for being there back when I needed someone and finally to Nicole for making me feel good about my book again, Sometimes I wonder if anyone really "gets" the book, but then someone like her comes along and reads exactly what I wrote. Thanks to you all!

Till next week!
Phil

Monday, February 22, 2010

Book Review-Musical Chairs

Last week I was sending out requests to other authors seeing if anyone wanted to review my book Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male and was pleased when Jen Knox replied back to me. Jen asked if I wanted to do a cross promotion--one where she read my book and I read hers. Since I had never done that before, and it sounded interesting, I agreed. So, here is my act of kindness for this week--my first book review.

In Musical Chairs by Jen Knox, we get to see the honest and painful story of one girl's past. As you learn about her running away from not only her family, but in reality from herself for a while, you can feel the pain she suffers. As she tries to fill the void, she falls into other vices--bad relationships, friendships that don't work out, alcohol, drugs and becoming invloved in the less than perfect occupation of stripping--and it is a wonder she feels the need to continune on. Not beng a woman myself, I can only imagine that other young girls feel the same things at times and hope that they take different measures in order to find themselves.

It is ironic that the way Jen "comes back to life" is through trips to visit her grandmother, who is slowly losing her own life to mental illness. And although at first Jen is apprehensive, these trips let her re-unite with the great-grandmother she never met and allows her to connect emotionally to her. Despite all this and her constant batlle fighting her own panic attacks, finally Jen is reunited with the family she once ran away from and reconciliation is complete for now. But I'm sure there is more to the story...

Honest, hard-hitting and sometime hard to believe, Musical Chairs is not your typical "feel-good" get lost for a few hours book. It is a real life, sometimes hard to read, book about recovery and inner self. The author bares her soul and allows the reader to see that not all is perfect about life, but that with hard work you can through most anything. You must credit Jen for her honesty and for being strong enough to let her story be known.

So there you have it, my first book review. Any comments, how'd I do?

Until next week

Phil

Friday, February 19, 2010

Memories and triggers...

As I get older I realize that no matter how different people may seem to each other, that no matter what your race, religion or opinions are and that no matter where you live we all share some things in common. Two of them are: the want to be accepted for who we are and more importantly the common drive to be truly happy. There is a third thing we all share, and that is MEMORIES.

Memories of good and bad, past people and places, and the roads you took to get you where you are today. There are certain things that trigger these memories for you--maybe it's the smell of your mom's homebaked apple pie that reminds you of her, or the scent that your dad had over him after changing the oil on your car. It could be a certain color that reminds you of the dress you wore at prom. Or possibly the memories start to flow as you look through old yearbooks or photographs of times gone by. Ot nowadays maybe it's the excitement you get re-connecting with past friends on Facebook or other social media.

I have three memory triggers. The first is aromas. I talk alot about them in my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosecxual Male, Lessons Learned from the Faire Sex." The ones that "get to me" the most often are best quoted from my book, "The smells of Wisconsin which always filled the air start with fresh cut green grass, the charcoal scents of a hamburger cooked on an open campfire, and the brackish seaweed that lay on the beaches in the early morning...I hated the taste of mint, but loved the smell, so I would take the sprig out of my glass of lemonade and put it in my pocket so I could enjoy it later...Whenever the snell of rain came to the air--you know the smell--we would wait excitedly for the storm to hit. As soon as it did, there were the two of us out dancing in the downpour. Nana told me, 'Rain is the cleansing agent God sends to wipe away your sins.'

The second trigger surprisingly enough is sleep. People say I have a photographic memory, I don't forget a thing. Well I can "program" my mind before I go to sleep and whatever I set it for, comes alive once again. It's like I have a TIVO in my head.

Finally the third and most used trigger is music. My ten-year-old son always jokes with me saying, "Dad, what's wrong with you? You can remember every song lyric ever made in the 70's, but you can't remember what we had for dinner last night." I explain that certain music takes me back to when I was younger and that he'd understand some day.

From my earliest memory music was there for me. My grandfather would listen to old country music on a small portable transistor radio and that became my favorite music back when I was 4 and 5. Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn were my favorites...but it also landed me the label of strange. Once school started I was able to change my listening to easy going music, the Temptations singing Up, Up and Away brings back fond memeories of Jenna and first grade. As I continued to grow, each memorable occassion had a song attached to it. Jim Croce, Billy Joel, Air Supply and finally Rod Stewart all have special places in my mind and in my book. Disco music really comes to mind as I learned who the "real me" was going to be.

So you see, memory triggers are all around you...learn to use them and to relax and enjoy the moment. The world we live in today is so fast and complicated that we tend to forget how easygoing and carefree life used to be, and should be again.

There is one song that brings this all together for me. I hope you enjoy this version of Jim Croce's Time In A Bottle.



Why not leave me some of your memory triggers?

Till Next week,

Phil

Thursday, February 11, 2010

What are Friends Anyway...?

Sorry I'm so late with this post...very busy week. We had rain here in Vegas and that throws everyone off. So my question this week is "what are friends anyway?" The dictionary states: Friend--a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.

Growing up as a boy of divorce there were many times I didn't feel as though I had a friend to my name. I felt as though many of my schoolmates didn't even know I was alive. But in Chapter 4 of "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male, Lessons Learned from the Fairer Sex" I introduce you to Lisa and Sally.

These girls became my first real friends. Through the years others had moved on or moved away, but these two stayed in my life for a long time. As we grew older, we obviously changed both physically and emotionally. We developed our own very distinct opinions, yet we still managed to like and respect each other. The three of us remained together because we had accepted each other a long time earlier for what each of us brought to the table. We stayed friends through good times and bad and were always there every Saturday morning to encourage each other. I learned from Lisa and Sally that friendship is the most important thing you can have in yor life.

Now a mere 40 years later the idea of friendship comes up again. Remembering that back in the day I didn't think anyone knew who I was or that I even existed I am somewhat surprised--with the advent of social media like Twitter and especially Facebook--at what is happening.

Knowing that friends have an attachment to each other, I am amused, yet still very happy, to have befriended over 300 people who now know me. And in fact, what I have found is that over half of my "new friends" are actually ones that I went to grade school and high school with. Although some are older and others are younger, they all seem to remember me and my past. They even relate to and remember parts of my book that they may have been a distant participant in. I wonder where they were back when I really needed them as I grew up in what I thought was an isolated world.

Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and have these "friends" back then. Funny what time and aging do to people. It is so nice to re-connect with names from my past, and to realize that we all do matter, that we all do know more people than we think and that we are all connected in some way or another.

So whether you are an acquaintance, ally, associate, buddy, chum, cohort, colleague, companion, comrade, mate, pal, partner, playmate, sidekick or soul-mate of mine, I thank you.

And now, thanks to my book, I can also add well-wisher to my list "friends, fans, and followers." You can become a "fan" of Sensitivity 101... at www.facebook.com/sensitivity101.

Whatever our relationship is or was or may be, I thank you for being there now on this part of my journey. This is my act of kindness this week.

It may seem weird for a guy, but this is one of my favorite TV shows of all times and expresses just how I feel today. Enjoy!



Till next week,

Phil

Monday, February 1, 2010

Remembering...

                                            



                                             

So why would I start with a video with no explanation? The name of this blog is One Good Turn Deserves Another, and nowhere is that more evident than in Chapters 2 and 3 of my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male." 

In Chapter 2, I introduce you to "Nancie" a younger, shyer classmate. She was my second grade teacher's daughter who came to our classroom one day when her kindergarten class was off. At lunch that day I approached her and reached out to her as I thought she looked uneasy and lost. After accepting my friendship, telling me her name was Nancie with an IE and thanking me for making her feel comfortable in class, Nancie not only sat next to me the rest of the day, she promised never to forget my name.

As I say in the book
"Fast forward to my junior year of high school. I became a teacher's aide in a freshman English class. Two of my responsibilities had me sitting up front at the teacher's desk grading papers and taking roll every morning. It was the first day of a new semester and a whole new class of freshmen sat in front of me. I always felt uncomfortable meeting new people and this was no different. I felt like they were all staring at me.
When it came time to call roll, there were some names I couldn't pronounce properly, which made me more nervous than normal. I got through most of the names and then called out "Nancy Ann." From the back of the room a confident voice answered: "Hi, Phil. My name is Nancie, Nancie with an IE."
I looked up and immediately felt at ease. It was Nancie from second grade.
She smiled and said, "You told me not to forget your name and I didn't. After you finish roll why don't you come back here and sit next to me in this empty desk?"
After roll call I made my way to the back row.
Nancie shook my hand and said, "You looked uncomfortable up there. Remember how nice you were to me that day in grade school?"
"Thanks for returning the favor." I replied.
Our situations had been reversed, but the underlying message of this experience remained with me. As a result of my making the effort to reach out, even though it was a small gesture, when years later it was I who needed the help, miraculously it was there.

And in Chapter 3, "Julie D." makes her appearance into the book and into my life. She was a new girl in school, just moved from Wyoming, and couldn't find any friends. Finally after some soul-searching and a talk with my mom, I decided to become her one and only friend at school. We talked about auras, UFO's and far-away Wyoming. But then...

"A few months later, a very excited Julie came to school and told the class that her family was moving back to Wyoming. As the two of us discussed this on our way home, Julie said to me, "We're all so lonely. Thanks for being my friend. You made my time here a little better."
As she handed me her book about auras, and then a second one, she said, "I want you to have my book. It helped me find you and I hope it will bring you new friends. This other one is about trusting your feelings. My mom told me that someday we all may have to make big decisions and that your feelings will never lie to you. She said to trust what they tell you. Anyway, thanks again for being my friend."
When we got to her doorstep, I hugged Julie, watched her open the door, wave good-bye and disappear inside. I never saw or heard from Julie again.
Julie taught me that just because someone is different than you are does not mean they don't expect the same things in life as you do. A person may look different, you may not have their same beliefs, and sometimes they may even act a little strange, but we all want the same things: to be happy and accepted for who we are.

So what does that have to do with the video above? What it all means is that you should look at the little things that happen in your life--they may be signs from above--and not only learn from them, but remember them forever. It's funny how the things these two girls taught me so long ago continue to reappear in my life.

Till next week,

Phil

Monday, January 25, 2010

Rain, Rain...

Well last week was a whopper when it came to weather. Here on the west coast EVERYONE got rain, even us here in Vegas. In fact we got more rain in three days than we did all of last year combined.
I actually like the rain...as I say in my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male"

After church we would go back to my grandmother’s house for a big dinner with even more extended family. One person I really connected with was my great-grandmother, I called her Nana. The two of us could sit and talk about anything for hours. She would tell me stories about when she was growing up. At fi rst I didn’t believe her when she told me,“We had no television, no electricity, and no indoor plumbing. Living on a farm, there weren’t that many other kids around either. I spent most of my time reading and doing chores. My favorite pastime was making noodles with my mom.”
There was a feeling I got around Nana that I felt nowhere else in my life. It was calming and relaxing. Part of that came from her distinctive smell. It was a woodsy aroma, not really feminine but not overly masculine either. It reminded me of the faint, almost sweet odor of fertilizer. Nana said, “What your nose detects is years of working on a farm and then spending all summer working my gardens to make them beautiful to look at.” Whatever it was, it worked on me.
I got along so well with her that my mom would let me spend all of my summers with her and my great-grandfather up at the cottage they owned in rural Wisconsin. The smells there were special too. The air was always filled with fresh cut green grass, the charcoal scents of a hamburger cooked on an open campfire, and the brackish seaweed that lay on the beaches in the early morning. It was a great place for me to be alone with my thoughts. I would spend most of the morning fishing on the small lake with him, the afternoons lying on the grassy hillside next to the cottage looking aimlessly into the sky, and then the night talking to Nana as we sat in two rocking chairs on the screened-in porch that overlooked the lake. We would share the night by sharing life.
As we sat together, drinking homemade lemonade and eating special sweets that she’d made during the day, Nana became my first exposure to the occult, ESP, UFO’s, and the afterlife. Anything that others thought of as abnormal was normal to her.
Her lemonade was really the part I enjoyed the most. She always floated a sprig of mint on top. I hated the taste of mint, but loved the smell, so I would take the sprig out of my glass and put it in my pocket so I could enjoy it later.
On the subject of religion, she reinforced my conviction that it does not matter how or where you worship God, as long as you believed in Him. She said, “Treating people with the respect they deserve is the best way to get into heaven.”
We also had another ritual which I still do to this day. Whenever the smell of rain came to the air--you know the smell--we would wait excitedly for the storm to hit. As soon as it did, there were the two of us out dancing in the downpour. Nana told me, “Rain is the cleansing agent God sends to wipe away your sins."

So the rain that fell this past week must have been a sign from above letting us know He forgives all of us at the same time.

Because of this weather mess though some people weren't as nice as they could be. I was stuck in the Albuquerque New Mexico airport on the worst of the days--Thursday. Many, many flights were cancelled all through the west, like Arizona, California and Nevada. One man in particular was just down right mean. He was yelling at anyone who would listen about how dare they cancel his flight. He approached a young girl at the SouthWest gates and preceeded to humilate the poor girl for a good twenty minutes. All I could hear her say was "I'm sorry, I don't control the weather." He stomped away madder than ever.
I was next in line and even though I didn't know the man, apologized to "Melissa" for what she was going through that day. She just smiled and said "Just part of the job...most people understand."
Melissa helped me get onto a flight and even moved my luggage to that one. I asked her name and said I would write a letter to her boss thanking her for her friendliness. I even saw her smile as I left.
But back to "the man." Of course he was waiting in my area of the airport and still complaining about missing his cancelled flight.
As "Dimitri" started to call my flight to line up, this idiot walked straight up to him and started to complain very loudly about "why are they leaving, if I'm not?" Dimitri started to explain, but "the man" got extremely agitated and walked away mumbling "F***ING rude, A**HOLE."
That did for many of us in line. As he returned to get "your name, so I can report you" a few us yelled back at him about him being rude. He looked at us all, threw up his middle finger and cursed us all out. One older man went and got security, and as we were being loaded into our plane, he was handcuffed and loaded  to who-knows-where.
I guess my moral here is that God is listening and reacts to everything, even if you don't think he is. We all got what we deserved...me a plane ride home...Melissa and Dimitri justice and a smile...and the mean old man, a place to calm down by hinself--jail.

By the way here is my book trailer--Hope you like it.



Till next week,

Phil

Monday, January 18, 2010

Chapter By Chapter We Go...

Happy Monday!!!

I was trying to decide what to write today and not much was coming to mind. The weekend was a bust with 2 of the 4 football teams I root for losing, it's raining here in Vegas and I'm just not too motivated without the sunshine. So let's start with Chapter One of "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male."

"Jenna" was a girl I went to school with. As I say in the book "All through first grade I was in the same class as Jenna. She was a short, roundish shaped girl who had a beautiful personality. She was the most popular girl in our class and the prettiest. She had long blonde hair that her mom put up in pigtails, and always tied with green ribbons. Jenna had freckles on her nose and under her eyes and always seemed to have a radiating glow around her.
Being that we were both smart, Jenna and I were always in the same groups. I often made her laugh with the silly things I did. I had a crush on her but didn’t know what to do about it. I remembered the talk Nana and I had about being different, sincere, and making people feel special.
One spring morning, my mom had the radio on during breakfast and the song Up, Up and Away came on. It was a catchy tune, even to a six year old, so I found myself humming it on the way to school. When I reached the schoolyard, all of my classmates were waiting outside for the bell to go in. Th is was my opportunity to make Jenna feel special and to let her know how I felt about her.
Now I wasn’t a great singer or even a good one, but I put a lot of feeling into everything I did. I started to sing, “Up, up and away with my beautiful, my beautiful Jenna” to the melody in my head. The other kids looked at me like I was crazy, but Jenna had a cute little smile on her face."

Here is a video of the original song--see if you don't feel the same way I did back then.




See now didn't that make you feel better on a rainy day?

Now for the random act of kindness this week. Again it involves me. I woke up on Sunday morning and opened my e-mail box to see an incoming letter for me. It was http://www.authors.com/ an online community I belong to. I was made a featured author by the owners of this site. What a surprise!

Since then I've had many other e-mails from the other members of http://www.authors.com/ congratulating me. Again, I feel special and humbled to be recognized for my efforts.

At least that took away some of the pain of the football losses.

Monday, January 11, 2010

We are on this Journey Together

This journey we call life can be difficult at times. I truly believe that it should be all about learning, sharing and helping others. This came to me from a person I really connected with while growing up. As I say in my book "Sensitivity 101 for the Heterosexual Male, Lessons Learned from the Fairer Sex" 

After church we would go back to my grandmother’s house for a big dinner with even more extended family. One person I really connected with was my great-grandmother, I called her Nana. The two of us could sit and talk about anything for hours. She would tell me stories about when she was growing up. At first I didn’t believe her when she told me,“We had no television, no electricity and no indoor plumbing. Living on a farm, there weren’t that many other kids around either. I spent most of my time reading and doing chores. My favorite pastime was making noodles with my mom.”
There was a feeling I got around Nana that I felt nowhere else in my life. It was calming and relaxing. Part of that came from her distinctive smell. It was a woodsy aroma, not really feminine but not overly masculine either. It reminded me of the faint, almost sweet odor of fertilizer. Nana said, “What your nose detects is years of working on a farm and then spending all summer working my gardens to make them beautiful to look at.” Whatever it was, it worked on me.
I got along so well with her that my mom would let me spend all of my summers with her and my great-grandfather up at the cottage they owned in rural Wisconsin. The smells there were special too. The air was always filled with fresh cut green grass, the charcoal scents of a hamburger cooked on an open campfire and the brackish seaweed that lay on the beaches in the early morning. It was a great place for me to be alone with my thoughts. I would spend most of the morning fishing on the small lake with him, the afternoons lying on the grassy hillside next to the cottage looking aimlessly into the sky and then the night talking to Nana as we sat in two rocking chairs on the screened-in porch that overlooked the lake. We would share the night by sharing life.
As we sat together, drinking homemade lemonade and eating special sweets that she’d made during the day, Nana became my fi rst exposure to the occult, ESP, UFO’s and the afterlife. Anything that others thought of as abnormal was normal to her.
Her lemonade was really the part I enjoyed the most. She always floated a sprig of mint on top. I hated the taste of mint, but loved the smell, so I would take the sprig out of my glass and put it in my pocket so I could enjoy it later.
On the subject of religion, she reinforced my conviction that it does not matter how or where you worship God, as long as you believed in Him. She said, “Treating people with the respect they deserve is the best way to get into heaven.”
We also had another ritual which I still do to this day. Whenever the smell of rain came to the air--you know the smell--we would wait excitedly for the storm to hit. As soon as it did, there were the two of us out dancing in the downpour. Nana told me, “Rain is the cleansing agent God sends to wipe away your sins.”
She also taught me the first lesson of my journey: “You are going to meet many people throughout your life and if you want them to remember you, you must always be a little different, you must be sincere, and you must make them feel special, especially the girls.”
She died when I was ten and I was devastated. I thought God was punishing me. First He took my father away from me and now He took the only person who truly understood me. I couldn’t understand why God would do this. I didn’t want to believe in a God who punished people so much. He was supposed to be a good and fair God. Although I desperately wanted to believe in something greater than us, I became confused. This just led me deeper into a life of withdrawal.

What I eventually learned was that we are not on this journey alone. Nana was always right there helping me make the correct decisions, sometimes not as fast as I had hoped, but she continued to watch over me and keep me on the straight and narrow. Through her, or because of her, I was able to not only believe in God but was able to experience the little thiings along the way, like the smells of the world or the hidden meanings behind roses or song lyrics or how to really treat someone special. Even when you don't know it, God is there, you just have to stop and smell the roses, and see the the world in a different light to truly appreciate what actually is there.

With that being said, I wanted to hand out a random act of kindness to someone today. So here goes...

A few weeks before the holidays I sent an e-mail to a fellow author and Facebook friend looking for some help. I was needing someone to review my book and not having a real easy time finding that person. So knowing that we are on this journey together, I reached out to Anna L. Walls. She wrote a book King by Right of Blood and Might that had been reviewed on Amazon about six times.

Not only did Anna send me her whole list of reviewers, it turned out to be over 20 pages long. So by e-mailing some of those listed I did get some very favorable reviews. Anna asked me one favor, for me to send her my list of contacts. But, I didn't have any...so this is my way of saying thank you!