They offered to wash my daughter’s car which was parked in front of the house. Since it was a small car, they said, the cost would be $8. Both blond and suntanned. Barefoot. Ball caps too large for their heads. No problems talking to an adult. Lots of eye contact. Lots of "yes sirs." One of them had a big plastic bin holding sponges, rags, and a bottle of dish soap.

As I write this, I’m in the air between San Diego and Atlanta on my way home to Mobile after presenting at a conference. The fact that I’m traveling today has a lot to do with my grandmother. She gave me wanderlust at a young age when she took me to Cozumel, Mexico and one day we flew in a rickety old plane into the Yucatan and landed on a grass runway to see the ruins of Chichen Itza.

Wealth and success and a predictable lifestyle curbs musician's angst and their anger, and their music is the casualty.  Said another way, musicians make their best stuff when they’re hungry, looking for love, angry or all three.

About a week later, a neighbor had the same balls, but they had six. So we ordered two more. Now at seven, they looked pretty, and we were pleased. Seven certainly looked better than our original five and a bit better than the six across the street. All’s once again right in the world. We’ve re-established order.

This particular wisdom came in the form of a friend telling a story. “Go put that tall ladder against the wall, then turn, back away, and run at that ladder and climb up it four steps at a time.” This is Nelson Easterling telling me about a lesson he tried to his son many years ago.

Our house rules prohibit what we call “devices” in our kid’s bedrooms at night. Early this morning I reached for my iPad and it wasn’t there, so I pinged it and my heart sunk when I heard the pings coming from his room.

Communicator Awards 2020 Award of Distinction Winner

Many years ago I asked my mother how she and my father had managed to stay married. This year marks their 52ndyear. Without so much as a pause, she said, “I decided early on that I would only love him every other day.” I laughed out loud when I heard it. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t even flinch.

I talk to one of them and they’re not aware because they can’t hear me. I have to raise my voice to get their attention and they turn around and say, “What?” and I have to ask them the same thing again. Ask them the same thing again. It’s gotten to the point that I now just plan on repeating myself whenever I talk to them. Talk to them.

I remember an odd statement that someone made about Alabama a few years back that has lodged in my brain. “In Alabama,” he said, “if they like you, they’ll tell you. If they don’t like you, they’ll leave you alone.”

This is a story about someone who is liked. Very well liked. And was told so.

We’re committed to raising what we call Free Range Kids. We still keep an eye on our kids though not directly above like a helicopter parent, but way up high like a drone. We watch the kids but try not to let them know we’re watching. Kids only realize we’re watching when we strike.