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The late comedian George Burns who remained active up until the very end of his life at age 100 often boasted jokingly about his daily consumption of a good cigar and a martini.  Wouldn’t we all love to shatter the longevity odds as he did and still indulge in our favorite unhealthy habit on a daily basis – whether it be ice cream, Snicker bars, chips, sodas, or even martinis and cigars?  Few of us can count on such luck I’m afraid.  The best we can hope for is that occasional moderate imbibing might result in minimal harm.  During a rare serious moment in his autobiography even George Burns admitted that there were probably other factors that attributed to his longevity besides his daily dose of martinis and cigars.  One of those had to do with his response to worry.  An example he shared occurred during a time in his late eighties when he was facing open-heart bypass surgery.  When asked if he was worried about the surgery he responded “no”, that was the doctor’s problem not his. 

I grew up in a farming community and let me assure you that farmers have a lot to worry about.  They work long, hard, tedious hours improving their property, maintaining machinery, learning new methods, preparing and planting their fields, then nurturing their crops to ensure they are not overtaken by weeds or eaten by insects.  The remainder of the process, though, depends on the forces of nature over which they have no control, leaving plenty of opportunity for worry.  Yet many of the seasoned farmers I knew learned to handle it the same way as George Burns.  Once they had done all they could do it became the problem of the One who controls nature not theirs.  Thus most of them managed to live long fulfilling lives in spite of the uncertainties of their profession. 

No one’s life is exempt from problems and concerns.  Yet if we allow ourselves to be overcome by worry it can immobilize us; it can damage our health, consume our thoughts, disrupt our productivity, negatively impact the way we treat others, and reduce our ability to trust in God and in others.  Or we can work hard and do all we can then let the rest of it become the doctor’s problem, or nature’s problem – or better yet, the problem of the One who controls all things.  When we do we still may not live as long as George Burns, but there’s a good chance we will live as well as he did.

Our two little granddaughters, Madeline and Zoey both eighteen months, are not yet verbal.  But they began communicating at a very early age thanks to their parents teaching them how to sign with their hands certain messages such as “want more” and “all done”.  What’s even more impressive and of utmost importance as far as I’m concerned is that “please” and “thank you” are also part of their sign-vocabulary.  Now mind you they have to be prompted to say please and thank you as small children often are, but it is nevertheless a top priority in their upbringing.  

Many years ago in my former business career I became intrigued by a then popular book entitled Customers for Life by Carl Sewell, owner of a number of successful luxury automobile dealerships in Dallas and across Texas and Louisiana.  In the book he shared his ongoing search for ways of treating customers in such a way that they would become “customers for life”.  So convincing was the book to me that I became a disciple of Sewell’s methods, applying them in my own business.  In fact, for a while it became the mantra of the corporate business unit I managed that everyone should treat people in such a way that they too would become customers for life. 

It’s a simple concept actually, just offer people excellent service, genuine personal attention, be polite, and say “please” and “thank you” – basic common courtesy, the Golden Rule.  If you need proof that it works just look what it has done for the Sewell family who through thick and thin has thrived in the luxury car business for almost a hundred years. 

Our grandchildren may never become successful business people like Carl Sewell, but the more they develop a sense of authentic gratitude and learn to express that gratitude by simply saying “please” and “thank you” the relationships they develop in life are far more likely become “relationships for life”.  So, I say “thank you” to their parents for teaching them one of life’s most important lessons, and encourage them to “please” keep up the good work.

(from the archives) 

Her name was Rookh Richards.  She lived around the block from us when I was growing up.  I don’t think I’ve ever met another Rookh – by that I mean I’ve never met anyone else named Rookh, nor have I ever met anyone else like Rookh.  My friend, Phil, called her Aunt Rookh as she was, in fact, his great aunt by marriage.  Phil and I, along with some of our other pals hung out at Aunt Rookh’s house a great deal.  She and her husband had no children, so she delighted in hosting the neighborhood kids.  Her home was always open and she loved to visit, tell stories, and entertain us with candy, warm cookies and other goodies.  She had a wonderful old overgrown English type garden with a small furnished living quarter at the back of it.  It was always available for our use – without asking – as a play room, club house, or work space for school projects. 

Even though I was just a kid and she was sort of an old woman I had this great relationship with Rookh.  We had our own private jokes and funny little things we teased each other about.  Every day in the late afternoon Rookh took a brisk walk around our neighborhood for exercise, so if I happened to be outside when she was on her stroll I always felt a certain excitement as I saw her approach.  When she passed my way there would inevitably be a brief, but funny and delightful exchange between us which would end in laughter as she went on her way. 

Did you ever know someone like that who you were always excited to see?  Rookh was one of those people.  She had a great attraction about her, the kind that comes from a spirit of humor, warmth, and generosity. 

Sometime during my high school years Rookh’s health failed and she passed away.  I recall sitting at the funeral mourning the loss of my friend, yet remembering the excitement I had felt when I would see her down the street headed my way. 

What do people think about me, I sometimes wonder, when they see me headed their way?  Have I touched someone’s life like Rookh did mine? 

If you have even an inkling of interest in college football you know about some of the great rivalries that exist and the traditions they carry.  One of them, commonly known as the Red River Shootout between the University of Texas and the University of Oklahoma, occurred just this past weekend.  What makes this contest particularly unique, besides the rivalry between two great bordering state universities, is that it is played on neutral turf.  Part of its great tradition is that instead of being played in the usual alternating home stadiums the game takes place in Dallas, Texas located almost exactly halfway between the two universities’ campuses.  They meet on common ground. 

Notwithstanding its location here in my home city, being a native Texan and UT alum myself makes this annual event one of high personal intensity for me.  But it has become even more so in recent years after our son Cecil, also an avid Longhorn fan, married Sharra, an Oklahoma native and avid Sooner fan.  You can imagine the tension in their household this past weekend!  And you might think that being the father-in-law I might be excused from the banter.  Not so!  No, my daughter-in-law does not let me off the hook, nor do her siblings.  Nor is the family rivalry confined to one mere Saturday in October.  Indeed it is a sparring match that continues year round. . . . . Yet in spite of our differences in the respective loyalties each side of the family holds for its revered universities, this rivalry has hardly become a source of division in our family.  To the contrary, it is a source of unity; for our intense interest in the game itself and the fun we all have sparring with each other has made it a place where we find common ground. 

This Texas-OU rivalry (or OU-Texas as my daughter-in-law insists) is a great metaphor for finding common ground.  Think how much it could benefit others to adopt such a model.  On common ground politicians and world leaders could engage in more fruitful debate, as could employers and employees, people with different religious and philosophical beliefs, teachers and students, parents and children.  Finding common ground fosters listening and understanding, creating space for civil debate to occur – and while opposing sides need not necessarily compromise their convictions common ground is a place for unity to form where differences otherwise exist.  In the spirit of Texas and OU we would all be better off by finding more common ground, don’t you think?

“Don’t fail to do something just because you can’t do everything.” 

– Bob Pierce, Founder of World Vision 

You’re probably familiar with the starfish story, the one about all the starfish that had been washed up on the beach during high tide only to be left there in the sand to die as the tide went back out.  A young boy playing on the beach recognized the fate of the starfish and began to methodically pick them up one at a time and toss them back into the sea.  A man who had been observing the boy approached him shaking his head.  “What’s the point, boy, don’t you see there are thousands of these starfish lying along the beach?  There’s no way you’re going to make a difference.”  Undaunted, the boy replied to the man as he tossed another starfish into the ocean, “Yeah, but it made a difference to that one.” 

During World War II my grandmother committed herself to writing letters to servicemen stationed overseas, primarily to those who at one time had been students in the Sunday school class she taught.  Now, my grandmother’s letters were no small feat.  They were labors of love, written in her small handwriting on multiple pages front and back and often times around the edges.  In them she would share news from home, stories she remembered about that person’s family and childhood, and offer words of encouragement and inspiration.  Each letter she composed represented hours of tedious work.  Yet, I doubt seriously that my grandmother’s letter writing made much of a difference in defeating Hitler and saving the world.  But I am pretty sure it made a difference to each one of those servicemen who received them, maybe to some it made ALL the difference. 

Too often, I’m afraid, we find ourselves overwhelmed by the challenges and problems that exist in our lives and the world around us, becoming paralyzed by the enormity of it all.  We’re like the man observing the boy on the beach tossing starfish back in the sea.  “What’s the point?” we ask ourselves.  “Surely my little contribution won’t make any difference.”  Oh, but it does!  In fact, for some it might make ALL the difference.  So . . . “Don’t fail to do something just because you can’t do everything.”