The tree you're standing under is me. The root you just tripped over? That was probably my dad. It's amazing how we become the very people we said we'd never be.

"Hey son! How is your day going?" My father has the ability to always sound as if he's just eaten a bottle of pep pills. It's a trait that has been passed down from former generations. "I'm doing fine," I replied. My parents and I talk nearly everyday and usually for good reason. They're either bewildered once again as to why the printer isn't working with their computer, or they're wondering why their computer isn't working with their printer. Either way, I've come to hate Bill Gates.

Our conversation that day was just a "catch up" on what's going on in our lives. I inform dad of my latest bookings for my public speaking and dad reciprocates by giving me his calendar information. Dad does what I do but does it for churches. In other words, my father and I get paid for what they used to put us out in the hallway for - talking a lot.

This particular morning our conversation didn't last long. Before hanging up, dad wanted to tell me he'd gotten a phone call from a certain person that was going to book him to do his finance seminar and then we said our goodbyes and hung up. Typical call. Typical day. So I thought.

Near the end of that same day, I got a second phone call from my dad with mom listening in on their other phone. They often are both on the line when they call. Just before hanging up, dad starts to tell me again about this person that had called and wanted to book him for a seminar. Now, before you think my dad is losing his memory, let me enlighten you. He's never had one. Not really but, my dad has forever been a story repeater, joke repeater, and story repeater, and joke repeater. This was just another story I was either going to politely listen to, again, or jump in and interrupt the inevitable.

I decided to respond with "You already told me this dad." Usually he says "oh" and we drop it. However, on this occasion he was certain he hadn't. I insisted he had and began to repeat the details of the name, place and circumstances he had shared earlier in the day. Hesitant to surrender, he finally did with "oh, I guess I must have already told you." I could hear mom laughing on the other phone and we all chuckled as our conversation came to an end.

The next day my daughter, my wife and myself were sitting around our dinner table getting ready to eat. I started to engage them in conversation by telling about the phone call I had with my dad the day before. I laughed as I was going to great lengths to explain to my wife and teenage daughter how Grandpa Jack was so insistent that he hadn't repeated his story when in fact he had. While still in the middle of making fun of my dad, my daughter started to laugh and interrupted me with the following line. "Dad, you already told us about your conversation with Grandpa. You told us last night." - True Story!

Moral of the Story?

I don't remember the moral of the story. Ask my daughter.

JL Glass is a nationally known motivational speaker and marketing guru. Over the years he has owned a variety of small businesses, from restaurants to real estate. JL is known for his skilled use of humor and story telling. As a keynote speaker he loves to make his audiences laugh while challenging them to learn from his mistakes before they make their own.

JL's life story includes surviving the journey of his 4-year-old son's near death experience with bacterial spinal meningitis and his 7-year-old daughter's 9 hour brain tumor surgery. JL knows all too well what cloudy days can bring and how good the morning sunshine can feel.



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I pride myself on being the writer in the family. But lately my husband has been threatening to write a book. He even has a title picked out - HOW MARTHA STEWART RUINED MY LIFE.

His newfound literary aspirations are due to my recent admiration for America's legendary queen of style and substance. The other day when I happily announced, "Just look at all the new foods we've been trying! We've broken out of our meat-and-potatoes rut," my husband pointed to the Martha Stewart Living magazine on the coffee table, and roared, "Yeah, and it's all HER fault!"

So he doesn't like change. Who knew?

The change started when I quit my job a few years ago to stay home to write. Writing eight hours a day isn't as glamorous as it sounds. Sure, you can sit around and work in your pajamas all day and never ever have to worry about combing your hair or wearing anything without an elastic waistband (my idea of heaven). But writing is hard work! You have to take plenty of breaks, drink numerous cups of coffee or tea, and snack several times a day just to keep your creative juices flowing.

I turned on the television one afternoon as I was making tea. There was Martha - demonstrating how to make lampshades out of string. I was hooked!

Now every afternoon I leave my computer, switch on the TV, and relax with Martha. Lately, she's been showing America how to "escape from the ordinary" with new taste sensations. As a result I've developed an intense fascination with root vegetables - my husband's worse nightmare.

"I refuse to eat anything with over five ingredients I can't identify!" he declared one evening.

I was ladling Martha's Fall Ragout (pronounced "Ragoo") into a bowl before him.

"Relax," I told him. "You've had these things before."

He eyed me suspiciously. "I only recognize the carrots!"

I decided to humor him. "Okay...let's just see what all is in here, shall we?"

He folded his arms across his chest. Our sons arrived at the table.

"What's going on?" asked Tyler.

"Nothing," I answered. "I'm just explaining dinner."

Tyler stared at his Ragout.

"Explaining it? We need directions or something?"

Our other son, Nick, sat quietly.

"No, I'm just identifying things for Dad," I said.

Nick piped up, "I see a carrot!"

"What's that round, yellowish thing?" asked Tyler.

"A parsnip," I said, "the white things are turnips."

My husband fished out two white lumps from his bowl. "What white things? I thought those were potatoes!"

"Those ARE potatoes, but these white things are turnips."

"What's this orange cube?" he asked with a frown.

"Butternut squash." I said. My head was beginning to ache.

My husband made a face.

"Uh...Mom, there's something lumpy at the bottom of my soup," Nick said sheepishly.

"It's not soup, dear, it's Ragout. And that's just the polenta."

Chairs scraped the floor as they all scooted back from the table.

"Po - what?" Nick asked.

"Just eat it!" I snapped. "And, I don't wanna hear another word. From anybody!"

The room was dead silent for the rest of the meal.

But I'll show 'em. Tomorrow night - it's rutabagas!

That oughta give my husband something to write about!



Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Suzanne_Lieurance

Men are from Mars and women are from Venus. Or so they say. But sometimes, I think my husband is from Uranus. Not that he's dumb or anything. Far from it. But his behavior certainly baffles me. It's just so far out there! Take last night. I was baking cookies when I suddenly noticed the time.

"Yikes! Can you take these cookies out of the oven for me when they're done?" I asked him. "I was supposed to be at an online workshop 10 minutes ago!"

"Sure...no problem," he said.

And I went dashing off to the computer to log on.

I left the cooling racks out for the cookies, along with a plastic storage bag to put the cookies in once they had cooled. It wouldn't take a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist to finish with this job. I was confident he could handle it.

Now here's where Uranus comes in. When my workshop was over I went back downstairs to see if my husband had remembered the cookies. He remembered them all right. He even baked the rest of the batter that was left in a bowl in the refrigerator. But the cooling racks and the plastic storage bag were setting on the counter, while the cookies were all stacked on top of each other on two plates, covered with aluminum foil.

Now my husband is the type of guy who plays chess to relax. He worked Rubic's Cube in about 10 minutes when it first came out years ago, and his favorite library book at the moment is called Conquering Calculus. So wouldn't you think he could figure out that hot, gooey cookies, oozing with melting chocolate chips, would stick together if they were piled on a plate, straight from the oven? Apparently not. Instead of several dozen chocolate chip cookies, we now have two (count 'em, two) chocolate chip cookie MOUNTAINS, firmly cemented to two of our good dinner plates.

When I saw the cookie mountains last night I didn't say anything.

My husband eyed me nervously. "What'd I do wrong now?" he asked.

"Did I say you did something wrong?" I answered.

"You didn't have to," he said. "You've got that look."

And he was right. I had the look. The one that says, "Women may be from Venus, but I swear, men are from Uranus!"


Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Suzanne_Lieurance

We all laugh; we all know this sensation that is regulated by the brain, but have you ever asked why do we laugh? What do we think that is so funny, so we start laughing out loud?

There are three theories about what we find funny: the incongruity theory, the superiority theory and the relief theory.

The incongruity theory was elaborated in 1970 by the German philosopher Immanuel Kant in "The Critique of Judgment". This theory suggests that what causes laughter is the "non-matching" of what we expect to happen and what really happens. When a joke begins, our mind and body anticipates what is about to happen. That anticipation is intertwined with our emotions and past experiences, so, when a joke goes in a different direction we need to switch gears and new emotions invade our brain - we experience two sets of incompatible thoughts. In conclusion, we are laughing out loud!

The superiority theory is based on laughing of somebody's mistake or stupidity. We feel superior to that person so we start laughing.

The relief theory or the release theory was defined by Sigmund Freud - he has a strong argument which holds that "all laughter results from a release of excessive energy". With this theory Freud explains the "type" of laughter that allows us to release or to get rid of a very stressful thought. He thinks that this theory can be applied when we talk about sexual or hostile feelings. It allows us to hint and to say things that we would never say in a polite and serious conversation. Freud says that this is the theory that we apply when we tell something serious about someone, that person gets mad and we hide behind this cliché: "I was joking!".

Another way to laugh out loud is by tickling. When another person tickles us we can't stop laughing because our brain is surprised with exterior actions. Have you ever tried to tickle yourself? Have you observed that you simply can't laugh? It's strange, but scientists, after they built a "tickle machine", they found out that our brain needs to be surprised with foreign actions. How the brain uses this information about tension and surprise is still a mystery.



Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Petre_An