Most kids and most parents seem to think that working for McDonalds is not a very worthwhile first job. But I contend that you can learn everything about life and businesses in a stint in the fast food industry.

When I went to work for Sandy’s Drive In (It was later bought out by Hardee’s), the organization proceeded to train us on everything from how to greet a customer to how many French fries to put in a bag.

Being your typical ‘know it all’ kid, I was not impressed with what I referred to as the ‘propaganda training films.’

I was especially put off by the one that explained the huge impact of putting one extra fry in a sack. The film proceeded to explain that the waste of one French fry amounted to a bag of fries within a  few short minutes. In the course of a lunch rush it could easily amount to a loss of revenue from 5-6 bags of fries. Multiply that over all the Sandy’s in town and it is a case of fries a day. Multiply that times the hundred stores in the chain over a year’s period and it could easily amount to a hotel full of lost revenue over a year.

“1 French fry?  Be real!” I thought.

And the joke was on me.

Later on I came to be a business owner and found that “The French Fry Theory”, as I later came to call it, was the purest form of truth there ever was. And, it applies to everything from paper towels to attitude adjustment.

Though few of us ever consider it, every little thing makes a difference. One French fry can alter the profits of a whole company. What we waste in America is likely enough to feed the rest of the world.

Take the idea further and consider that something as simple as a helping hand received and passed on from one neighbor to another can chance a city. A smile could light up the lives of countless others. It’s the small things that make a big difference.

So, what is in a smile, a kind word and a French fry?

Each one holds the power to change the world.

After attending a high school reunion later in her life, Erma Bombeck commented on the experience.

“I couldn’t possibly have gone to school with all these old people.”

 
And I sure can identify with her sentiment. This week I have seen a backlash of my own personal vanity on several occasions.

The first thing that happened was that I found a recent photo of my ex-husband. We divorced 16 years ago and I have not seen him in that length of time. 

I was just shocked. He looked like he could have been my grandfather. I just had to show someone, so I called up a business associate of mine to see what he thought.

Looking up the photo, I asked him if he thought Rob looked older than me. Pleased, when he answered “yes”, my second question was, “Yes, but by how much?”

Jerry answered, “Oh, at least 4 years.”

“4 years?” I screeched. “4 years? You gotta be kidding. He looks like my grandpa!”

I should have known not to ask Jerry.  He is 20 years younger than me and a great guy. I think of him as a business associate and he thinks of me as a mother figure.

What on earth was I thinking asking him?

Okay. So my family comes for Thanksgiving. I show the photo to my mom and she says he looks very happy and “about right for his age.”  She added that I look nice too.

The next day Janine, my sister-in-law, her teenage daughter and I go to Sandstone Gardens for lunch.  (Janine is only 5 years younger than me.) When we went up to pay, the waitress asked us if we were three generations together for the holiday.  I’m sure the look of surprise/horror on my face made her worry about the tip even before we told her we were sister-in-laws and Malory was my niece.

I have to give the waitress credit for quick thinking, though. Her explanation was that I seemed to be catering to Janine’s wishes by ordering salad so she could have it. “Something a mother would do,” she said.

We laughed and told her it was a good save in a tricky situation.

Needless to say, my vision of myself as eternally young has had a trying week.

As disconcerting as it may be, my whole family, including me, found a great deal of humor in it.

Proving, once again, that there is almost nothing so serious that you can’t get a laugh out of it somewhere.

Diversity isn’t just about race, religion and sex.

Each one of us is ‘diverse’ from all the others of us.

I contend that we are all so conscious of being politically correct that our personal diversity is going underground.

Why are people so afraid of expressing themselves openly?

Embracing each person as the unique individual that they are is exciting and dynamic. That’s where we can experience ‘real diversity.’

The problem is that we hide our unique personalities in an effort to fit in with the crowd.

BORING!!!!

I love it when I’m in a situation where I can let the real me, the whole of who I am, run free. I’m equally delighted when the others do the same.

It’s so refreshing; probably because it is so rare.

Several years ago, in the wee hours of the morning, a group of us decided to go out for breakfast.

We stopped into a 24-hour, greasy spoon café. My brother Bobby is quite a character. A ‘good ole boy’, he is a ‘real’ person and will start a conversation with anyone. His personality reminds you of Earl. (The one that was known for saying, “You know what I mean, Vern?”)

Anyway, as the waitress approached our table Bobby said, “Hi Hon, what’s your name?”
She was in no mood to visit and answered him with a curt, “Puddin Tain.”

Our eyes just about popped out of our heads. We sat there dumbfounded, being catapulted back to childhood when we used to taunt each other with that very phrase.

(“What’s your name?” “Puddin Tain. Ask me again and I’ll tell you the same!”)

It didn’t matter that the lady had snubbed him. No one was mad. She had just shown us a unique piece of herself and reminded us of our own.

We have laughed about that for over 20 years now and recently recounted it on our family video.

The expression of our individual diversity counts for the great stories in our lives. It sets us apart and brings us together as we enjoy the uniqueness of each and every individual regardless of their race, creed, religion, and the color of their tee shirt or the neighborhood they grew up in.

The fact that we all see things a little bit differently is a thing to be applauded. It keeps us on our toes.

Just think, had that woman simply told us her name and taken our order, we would have no memory of the evening. But instead, she stepped out and made it all real.

We did not take offence but instead celebrated her creativity in controlling what she thought to be the
riff-raff.

All this to say that, when you try to fit in by being what you think will make everyone happy, you miss yourself and…… you miss the other person too

Experience the joy of ‘real diversity.’ You might be both surprised and enlightened by the experience.

After all, it’s the stuff memories are made of.

I was joking with a friend the other day and said that to her in conversation.

However, it is true. I’ve been divorced for 16 years and have no good prospects. Considering that, isn’t it interesting that my house used to be the home of the nuns who taught at the Catholic school here in town.

If you have been following my work, you know that I believe we play a huge part in our circumstances. Whether we are conscious of it or not, the universe is responding to us. So, that thought can lead to all kinds of fascinating introspection.

Recently it has been about my house; why I bought one this big and why I don’t seem to be able to sell it. See, I think God has an amazing sense of humor and I have a lot of fun watching him interact in my life. I think he is getting a big kick out of me and my house thoughts right now.

Of course, when I bought this house, I certainly wasn’t thinking about its past inhabitants. (In-habit –ants.)

 Ha Ha…. Even that is funny.

Of my own free will, I bought it about 5 years ago. It was my hide away as I wrote “The Baglady’s Guide to Elegant Living.” I could see the purpose in being alone then. I needed focus. Indeed, I have an ‘elegant life’ in this big old Victorian. And since I live in a very small town, I do have the solitude of a nun when I am home.

The parish priest lives next door and the church is next to the rectory. With Father Chris and I being the only people living on our block, it’s practically holy! I’m counting Father and the church as holy. I added the ‘practically’ to allow for me in the mix.

But, you know what?

I’m happy.

In fact, I’ve been single so long now that I almost can’t imagine sharing my space with another person full time. Oh there were years when I longed for a life partner. I had some long relationships that all ended with me spending months pining over the loss.

But that is all ancient history now. Now I am at peace and truly satisfied with the life I have. There is an upside to being alone. Most people are so busy fretting over ‘being alone’ that they don’t see it.

What it is… is an amazing sense of being able to be led, to listen to the quiet voice that can so easily remain unheard.

It gives one the freedom to, on a whim, call someone that just pops into mind or to stop everything and go to the aid of a friend in need without worrying if I’ll be upsetting the apple cart at home.

I find great joys in the closer relationship with my best friend and Lord. I’m not Catholic, but I think I more fully understand the devotion that nuns must feel. I used to see their lives as a sacrifice but this life I have is a joy.

 And like many nuns, I live in a beautiful home and love God with all my heart.

You never can tell.

Someday my home might sell.

A knight in shining armor might sweep me off my feet.

In the meantime, here I am, following my heart wherever it leads me.

 And… I know it leads me home.

Most people think that a mini vacation is one where you take off for a long weekend, but I’m talking about the kind of vacation you can take in a minute…. no matter where you are. And you can take this respite to far away places and even to other eras.

There is no restriction on time, money or airline schedules.

One of my favorite movies of all times is Dances with Wolves; so much so that when it was playing in theatres, I went to see it 8 times. ( That is a big deal for me, because I just don’t see movies more than once. )

Anyway, when I drive to Wichita from my home close to the Missouri Ozarks, I drive right thru the Flint Hills on Highway 400. There is about a 10 minute stretch of road where, with only a small amount of imagination, I can transform my car into a covered wagon. I do this by pulling out the Dances with Wolves soundtrack and slide it in my CD player.

And viola!  I’m on the frontier. 

In the words of John Dunbar, “Before it is gone.” …expecting any minute to see a buffalo. The music fills me. The prairie is pristine, peaceful.

I’m in a more simple time.

One could go even further and imagine that Kevin Costner is with me. And there is a blanket, a cabin and ….  I hit Leon and my fuzz buster starts beeping. (There is always a speed trap at Leon).

My covered wagon becomes a Camry again, foot to the breaks, eject the CD, and pay attention to the road.

I’m back in 2009.

So much better off for my short trip to the 1800’s prairie.

I’ve long considered writing a book about all the personalities we employ as we go about the days and years of our lives.  Of course, there is the daughter, the employee, the mom and the wife, but there are also more complex versions of all of us that we employ based on the circumstance and our frame of mind at the time. Some show us who we want to be more of and others give us a view into our… well… let’s call it our “self improvement needed” side.

We all lose our way from time to time and, believe me, I am no exception. I’ve recently had an extended encounter with my ‘Over Accommodating’ personality. As many of you know, I speak for a good number of women’s groups around the country.  The churches and organizations who host me can get a very good idea of the subject matter of my talks by first reading The Baglady’s Guide to Elegant Living. In the book I talk about finding your authentic self and living from that place.

I’m so thankful for the overall freedom that my hosts afford me. We discuss in advance what part of my message will be of most interest to the attendees. I do make notes to speak from and then, once on stage, I let spirit lead me. It is my intent to entertain and, hopefully, impart a bit or two of wisdom to the audiences.

Starting in April, as I prepared to work with a new group, it was requested that I put in writing what I would say, and, trying to be accommodating, I did that. They had other requirements of what I needed to include and so I added and rearranged. We were working back and forth for quite some time and I was beginning to be concerned that in order to meet the restrictions I would either have to memorize or read my talk. That is certainly different than my normal presentation method, but I wanted to be cooperative.

It all kind of snuck up on me, but looking back on it now, I see that I started dragging my feet. Not on just that presentation, but on my work in general. Something just didn’t feel right and I found myself doing everything I could think of to avoid my work.  I’ve been walking around feeling guilty about doing nothing productive, but I just haven’t been able to make myself do much of anything for a couple of months now.

It was only last night that I finally got it, I’d lost my way. I’d forgotten who I was. I’d been so busy trying to be what someone else needed me to be that I forgot who I was. And so it was like I was wandering aimlessly in the desert with no water in sight.  The ‘Over Accommodating’ personality had descended upon me like a thief in the night. Little by little, I had tried to make myself fit into someone else’s truth, and had lost track of myself.

A round peg doesn’t fit into a square hole, but we can sure wear ourselves out trying. And often, as in my case, blindly so. Discovering my true, authentic self, and continuing to live from that place, is my real work.  And whenever I forget, my step will be a little less lively. Inspiration will wane.

Last night, after a barely perceptible four month slide away from my true self, I finally realized that I just couldn’t do it. In my effort to be cooperative, I had abandoned ‘me’. Neither party was at fault. We simply were not compatible.

All it took was remembering my true self and recognizing that I was out of alignment. Once able to see the problem, I got back on the right track. And immediately things changed.  Today my life is once again filled with light. I’m able to work and inspiration has returned.

Yesterday, on my way to a seminar in Chicago, I drove all day thru Illinois. What a glorious day it was.  And… I have never seen so many corn fields in my entire life. Gorgeous, lush, green fields of corn covered almost the entire state.  Nestled among them, were pristine, white farm houses and out buildings in the subtle roll of the earth’s terrain.  WOW! What a site to behold.

It brought me back to the memory of watching Field of Dreams several years ago. In the film, famous baseball players from ages gone by appeared to play on the ball diamond made in a cornfield. There was one line in the show that struck me over and over as I drove.  One of the players asked the owner of the field, “Is this heaven?”

The beauty put me in a state of mind that made me feel the same way that baseball player must have felt. We live on an amazingly beautiful planet, in a country where anything is possible for our lives if we put our energy into it. And I realized… in a way, it is heaven.

Today, in Chicago, I couldn’t shake the feeling that all we need to do is to see our lives and our surroundings with new eyes; Eyes that see the magnificence of it all. The human body, the trees, birds, the planet, the love shared among friends are all pretty awesome. 

Heaven is a state of mind available to us every minute. How about this minute, right now? How about choosing heaven.

Do you remember that old nursery rhyme from when we were kids?

The House That Jack Built 

This is the house that Jack built.
This is the rat
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,
That worried the cat…

 And on the story goes to show that, one after another,  all the inhabitants of the poem were connected and played their own unique part in The House that Jack Built.

 It is amazing, when you think back, how one thing leads to another. Last year, I was interviewed on station KWRM-Seattle about my new book, The Baglady’s Guide to Elegant Living. Kate Daniels, the host,  suggested  that I team up with Dress For Success.

Dress for Success has more than 70 affiliates in the United States. Each site is an independent,   volunteer-driven non-profit organization committed to fulfilling the Dress for Success mission of    promoting the economic independence of disadvantaged women through career development and  employment retention.

 Once I read about their mission, it was right in line with my own. So, on a trip to Wichita, I put in a call to Pat Jones, the executive director of the Wichita organization. We immediately began to brainstorm about how we might use my book, to raise funds and awareness for the local Dress for Success (DFS).

 Over the last several months, as we have prepared to launch this innovative fund raiser for DFS, The House that Jack Built has come to my mind several times. Already, many people have come together to conceive the idea, get others excited, and contribute some of the talents that will form our own unique version of this classic tale.

 It just so happens that local Wichita women Michelle Sell, a past board member for DFS, and Dena Graham had been part of the test group who read the book before it was ever published. They were enthusiastic in lending their support. Judy Young, of The Laughter Connection, wrote an entire book review on the website.

 Mike Lamb, co-founder of Wichita Breeze internet radio, had been looking for a way to help DFS. His team at Wire Waves built the amazing website for the project.  Laurie Tillman, web designer extraordinaire, is a delight to work with.

 Because of Kathy Hadley, marketing director for Hansa Center, thousands of people on Facebook and Twitter have seen hints as to the project being developed. She can hardly wait to spread the word throughout the internet. That’s her specialty!

 Wichita’s own version of the story has just started. Maybe the title should be “This is the Project that Wichita Built.”

 When we all move forward with small, positive steps. big things happen. And in this case, helping raise funds for Dress For Success Wichita is as easy as reading a good book. 

 Thank you for reading The Baglady’s Guide to Elegant Living and telling others about it.  When you order it from www.BagladyLovesDressForSuccess.com all proceeds help disadvantaged women in Kansas with business attire, career training and the confidence to succeed.

Dina Dove, author

dina@bagladysguide.com

The trip to New York was wonderful. I went to the BEA (Book Expo America). It is the annual trade show of the publishing industry. On the first day I met with the Reading Program Specialist at the headquarters of the United Methodist Church in New York. Brenda Thompson was just delightful and is going to consider including my book in the reading list for UMW (United Methodist Women). I originally contacted the head office because the UMW conference will be in St. Louis next year and their theme goes right along with my message.

One of the top reviewers for Amazon agreed to read The Baglady’s Guide to Elegant Living. I got to touch base with Peter Vegso, the owner of HCI, the company who publishes my book. We talked about promotion and my upcoming program with Dress for Success in Wichita.

Kathy Hadley and Dr. David Jernigan from Wichita were my traveling companions. We had marvelous food. HOT FOOD TIP: At the Trump Hotel on the Columbus Circle overlooking Central Park, the salad dressing for their signature salad is absolutely to die for! It had such an unusual texture and taste that we asked some of the ingredients. One of them was butter. I’m telling you, I could go back and eat it every day.  One evening we went to the Tavern on the Green, the famous restaurant in Central Park. We ate outdoors surrounded by flowering plants and trees. As night settled in, the canopy of trees above us was lit with hundreds of oriental lanterns in various shapes and sizes. As I sat there I was so reminded of the restaurant that Rose took Angela to.

HORSE DRAWN CARRIAGE RIDES: We took evening excursions to sample the local fare and experience the city and decided to take a horse drawn carriage ride thru Central Park. I asked the driver if I could ride up front with him and we had a wonderful conversation. He was from Ireland and is set to develop the carriage franchise for St. Thomas, VI starting in the fall. I had a bird’s eye view of all the sights of the park. Sitting up there with the driver was just a thrill. I could imagine that I was actually driving a carriage myself.

It was a great trip and New York is exciting. And yet, it is always nice to get back home again.

By the time you read this I’ll be in New York City attending the BEA (Book Expo American) in New York.

Exciting things always happen there.

But, of course, exciting things happen everywhere at every moment. Most often we fail to notice them. They are so subtle, so ‘unimportant looking’… like packages wrapped in plain brown paper.

Some of the most important things and some of the most important people fail to impress us at first blush.  We tend to judge a book by its cover. We make an early snap judgment based on appearances.

If someone is bigger than life, famous, and throws around the names of their ‘important cronies’ or their ‘grand accomplishments,’ we tend to look on them in awe and rush to be near them and their perceived power. We look right past what we consider to be the small, inconsequential people standing right in front of us.

Sam Walton drove the same old pickup for years. You could likely to run across him in a bibbed overalls looking like an old farmer. Imagine him driving on a new car lot in that truck. Can’t you just see the salesmen looking at each other, hoping someone else will go out and waste their time on the old man?

Jesus was born in a lowly manger. No innkeeper would even make room for him. Mary and Joseph came into town, dusty from a long trip… not looking very important. An amazing thing was about to happen. Some lucky innkeeper could have played a big part in the story, but it all looked very ordinary and unimportant to him.  He dismissed them without regard.

And now who can forget Susan Boyle, a Scottish matron with the voice of an angel. She came on stage a few weeks ago on a UK talent program. The camera shot to the judges who were all rolling their eyes. The audience was snickering. She didn’t look like a star. In fact, they thought she was joke. Then she opened her mouth and brought the world to its feet.

Each person born to earth is amazing in their own special way, not to be looked past, or around, not to be ignored.

Brown paper packages…  amazing gifts inside.