Through all the stuff I get to see on social media, I've found some gems and some stinkers. I had several of each this past week.
One I really liked was this quote.
" some folks just need a pat on the back,..........
of the head,..........
with a hammer...."
But some are more serious. Like this one I shared last week, shared for one young friend in particular.
Trust is like an eraser. It gets smaller and smaller with each mistake.
What I wasn't expecting was the response I got.
"What do you do when there's no eraser left? And you can't walk away?"
I didn't and don't have an answer for that question. It did how ever make me think about the trust that we try to nurture with consumers.
So often we think to think that the outreach is the all important part of connecting people with the farms. But what happens when there isn't any trust left, and our opponents are so heavily invested in their cause that they can't seem to find a way out or the desire to step away?
A couple of thoughts. Some folks don't want the dialogue, don't egg them on by giving them a platform to beat you up. But be polite. They want you to lose it. Don't give them the satisfaction.
Some people are sort of unlovable. It must hurt to be there. Don't add to their misery.
Our opponents want us to look untrustworthy, don't give them a reason to say,"See, I told you they were a terrible person!"
But it's really hard for me to be around someone that I don't trust. I chose my friends and allies for a good reason. It bothers me a lot when I see someone who is not looking out for others, getting the best of a friend. It ticks me off.
And lastly. If you find yourself to be that person who folks don't trust, remember that trust that can be lost so quickly, will take years to rebuild. Trying to force that won't make it heal faster, but further alienate yourself.
I'm blessed with so many young friends that challenge what I think and how I approach issues. They are each a blessing to me. This young friend and I will continue to talk about trust. Maybe we'll figure something out.....
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Fathers, Daughters, Mothers, Sons
This is a copy of the devotions that I did for youth group recently.
Fathers, Daughters, Mothers, Sons
So is anyone else uncomfortable yet?.
So why pick a topic like this one? Maybe a little background for you guys. You know I do the Hopeline for DMLive. The reason for starting that went along these lines. God blessed me with a great upbringing, stable family, no question that my parents loved me. If I could share some of that stability with the kids calling the Hopeline, it would be a good thing I could do to build Gods kingdom. But something odd happened along the way, God used that experience to teach me about his grace, mercy and love. It also taught me something about being a parent.
A show of hands, who thinks their parents just don't get it? One of the things I found at the hope line, was that I tended to agree with parents most of the time. Not all the time mind you, but most of the time. And honestly that surprised me a bit. I wasn't expecting that. I really thought these kids would come from some messed up places. Some did, but some of what I heard was just parents and kids not figuring stuff out.
But parents and kids not getting along is something new right?
Matt 10:35 "for I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law...".
So 2000 years ago this was going on. Not far enough back?
Micah 7:6 same verse.
Let's go back a little further, Jacobs dream was Jon's topic two weeks ago. He received his birthright but deceiving his father, with the help of his mother.
What I'm trying to say here is that the conflicts between parents and their kids is as old as the human race. And it is a far too big topic to address on a Wednesday night.
But God gave us the perfect pattern to follow to be parents. He calls himself our father doesn't he? So why aren't parents perfect? Let's try something.
We have two easels here, I'm looking for three volunteers.
So one of you will give instructions to the other two. Use the instructions that you heard to recreate the picture that you envision being described. The end results looks nothing like what the instructions that where given.
In the same way that these pictures became distorted by the fact that the people drawing them didn't understand what they were drawing, parents don't always get it right either. They don't understand what they are being told, or they aren't paying attention, or they have a detail that they think is more important. Lots of reasons, but not what God intended. We, and you, can't fix what's wrong with your parents. The only part of that relationship that you can control is you. And sometimes that is really hard.
So I'm just going to focus on a couple of specifics of the relationship. The topic tonight, was listed as fathers daughters mothers sons for a reason. In all the relationships that I watched at the hope line, these two were, in my mind anyway, incredibly important. These two relationships lay the framework for how your future relationships work. For starters these two relationships are one of the few you will have in your life, that don't have a sexual element to them. They give you a way to figure out how to interact with the opposite sex, without sex being part of the picture. So much of what happens in a marriage is just life. So watch how you young ladies interact with dad, and guys with mom. It matters to your future.
Guys, understand how dads feel about their daughters. It is the guy relationship that you will be judged against by the young lady that God brings into your life.
This past week I've been having a couple of conversations about asking a girls dad, for permission to marry her. Think of it as a matter of respect. Respect the relationship that she has with her dad, enough to ask him for her hand. It isn't a rule, but is a good idea.
Also understand that the relationship that you guys have with your mother will shape how you and your future wife interact. And guys, the girls are watching how you treat your moms, and the other women that you interact with. Can you say teachers?
Girls, the respect that you show you fathers, is something that someday you will share with your future husbands.
All of this just adds to the amazement that I have for God, and how incredibly he made us. He created all of these interactions.
One time I told a young man at the Hopeline,"you want to know how amazing God is? He understands women."
And how wonderful is God? He created women.
But that is a topic for another night.....
Sunday, January 1, 2012
My Facebook Status
I was looking at my friends list on Facebook recently, and was reminded that while I know many of my facebook friends well, there are others that only know me through SM. And after looking through the new timeline on facebook a lot of my status' probably don't make sense to those of you who don't know me well.
I'm a middle-aged married guy with four kids, aged 15,17,19 and 21. To someone reading my facebook status you would think I'm a helicopter parent or that they are always in need of help. Not the case at all, they are great kids, they are doing great. They experience the normal teenage angst, (guys/girls, relationships, grades, school decisions), but they are awesome kids.
I'm also work with teens through my church's youth group, and until recently, I was a volunteer Hopecoach for the Dawson McAllister Ministry. Dawson McAllister has a radio show that runs for 2 hours on Sunday nights on top 40 radio, all over the country. Honest forthright answers, with a dose of Christ's love mixed in. Volunteers and staff talk and text, with thousands of young people each month. Five years ago, I started answering phones for the ministry on Sunday nights, and discussing whatever topic came up with the teens that called in wanting advice or a friend to talk to. In the past five years I've had one on one conversations and made friends with, somewhere around 1500 young people. My young friends are bulemic, cutters, prostitutes, pimps, gang members, over-acheivers, drug addicts, anorexic, dropouts, strippers and potheads. They struggle with their parents, teachers, divorce, each other, depression, boyfriends/girl friends, and relationships in general. They have been let down, stomped on(literaly and figuritively), beat up, raped, abused and neglected. I've been on the phone with them when we called the police. They have tried to committ suicide, hurt themselves and everyone around them. I've talked to a young person with a pistol on the seat beside him, driving around looking for a quiet place to end his life. I've talked to 17 year old young woman who had never heard anyone tell her that she was loved. I've prayed with them, and I've had them pray for me. (You want to talk about being humbled, that will do it.)
When I got invloved in my churches youth group, it wan't long before kids found out about the Dawson McAllister call work that I did. So they started to talk, call and text. They also started to refer friends who were dealing with big stuff. Why do they talk to me? I don't know. Someone once told me that my grandpa could talk to anyone, and maybe God blessed me with some of him. I can say the conversations are one of the greatest blessings that God has blessed me with, and I'm a pretty blessed guy.
An animal welfare person I've come accross, once told a group of us,"I'm your worst nightmare, an insomniac, AR person, with a computer and an internet connection." He would say he was kidding, but he isn't even close. My nightmares include missing a call in the middle of the night, a phone call going dead, a call from a young person saying they've been raped or that one of "my" kids has died.
This isn't something I do on my own. God has blessed me with a great bunch of folks to walk along with, and I couldn't do it without his help. And please don't make me out to be anything more than I am. I am one of God's screwups. I mess up all the time, and without his help, I'd be an even bigger mess.
So in this New Year, if you see my status asking for a prayer, say a quick prayer for one of "my" kids. Thanks.
I'm a middle-aged married guy with four kids, aged 15,17,19 and 21. To someone reading my facebook status you would think I'm a helicopter parent or that they are always in need of help. Not the case at all, they are great kids, they are doing great. They experience the normal teenage angst, (guys/girls, relationships, grades, school decisions), but they are awesome kids.
I'm also work with teens through my church's youth group, and until recently, I was a volunteer Hopecoach for the Dawson McAllister Ministry. Dawson McAllister has a radio show that runs for 2 hours on Sunday nights on top 40 radio, all over the country. Honest forthright answers, with a dose of Christ's love mixed in. Volunteers and staff talk and text, with thousands of young people each month. Five years ago, I started answering phones for the ministry on Sunday nights, and discussing whatever topic came up with the teens that called in wanting advice or a friend to talk to. In the past five years I've had one on one conversations and made friends with, somewhere around 1500 young people. My young friends are bulemic, cutters, prostitutes, pimps, gang members, over-acheivers, drug addicts, anorexic, dropouts, strippers and potheads. They struggle with their parents, teachers, divorce, each other, depression, boyfriends/girl friends, and relationships in general. They have been let down, stomped on(literaly and figuritively), beat up, raped, abused and neglected. I've been on the phone with them when we called the police. They have tried to committ suicide, hurt themselves and everyone around them. I've talked to a young person with a pistol on the seat beside him, driving around looking for a quiet place to end his life. I've talked to 17 year old young woman who had never heard anyone tell her that she was loved. I've prayed with them, and I've had them pray for me. (You want to talk about being humbled, that will do it.)
When I got invloved in my churches youth group, it wan't long before kids found out about the Dawson McAllister call work that I did. So they started to talk, call and text. They also started to refer friends who were dealing with big stuff. Why do they talk to me? I don't know. Someone once told me that my grandpa could talk to anyone, and maybe God blessed me with some of him. I can say the conversations are one of the greatest blessings that God has blessed me with, and I'm a pretty blessed guy.
An animal welfare person I've come accross, once told a group of us,"I'm your worst nightmare, an insomniac, AR person, with a computer and an internet connection." He would say he was kidding, but he isn't even close. My nightmares include missing a call in the middle of the night, a phone call going dead, a call from a young person saying they've been raped or that one of "my" kids has died.
This isn't something I do on my own. God has blessed me with a great bunch of folks to walk along with, and I couldn't do it without his help. And please don't make me out to be anything more than I am. I am one of God's screwups. I mess up all the time, and without his help, I'd be an even bigger mess.
So in this New Year, if you see my status asking for a prayer, say a quick prayer for one of "my" kids. Thanks.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
God Has A Sense Of Humor
Okay, what follows is a true story. Some of the details might differ slightly from being retold for 20 years, but the story is true.
Back when the Mall Of America was fairly new, it was a bit of a novelty around here, a destination. So a family that hails from about 40 miles west of where I live, made it their Christmas shopping destination. Dad and Mom, one of their married daughters, and her husband leaving in the early morning hours to spend the day in Minneapolis.
The daughter and her husband leave their rural home, drive to the parents farm where Mom has breakfast waiting for them. After about a half break for breakfast, they got back into their still slightly warm vehicle, and are off on their day.
After driving for about a half hour, everyone notices an awful smell coming from their car. I mean bad, really bad. So bad in fact, it looks like they might end up stopping to attend to this. But after another half hour, everyone decides that the smell is getting better, and they forge on.
Upon arriving at the Mall, they parked in one of the upscale parking ramps, and went in to spend the day.
About 3 pm, with all their money spent, and their time used up, they head to the parking ramp to go home.
As this small group approached the ramp, the automatic doors opened, and they were greeted with the same stench that they had experienced on the drive up. Obviously, it was coming from their car. When they opened the hood, they found that during their breakfast stop, a cat had crawled on the car's warm engine and had met its' untimely demise. So they emptied out a shopping bag, grabbed a ice scrapper, and a tire iron and cleaned the remains from the engine. Upon finishing this gruesome job, they closed the hood, set the bag down, and walked back into the Mall to clean themselves up.
Now the story got interesting. As this small group returned, and approached the automatic glass doors to the ramp, they see a lady in her mid 40's scanning the ramp. Seeing no one, she walked across the ramp, and steals the bag containing the dead cat off of the hood of their car. She makes a right turn, heads right for them and enters the mall, walking right past them.
So now what to do? The two couples decide almost immediately that they need to see her reaction, and start to follow at a safe distance. The shoplifter walks quite a distance through the mall, and enters a set of restrooms near the food court. The guys are telling the women that they should follow, and the women are telling them in no uncertain terms, that that isn't going to happen, when a scream like someone is being axe murdered comes from the restroom.
Now, not far from this restroom is the offices for security. Doors blow open and into the restroom they go. They find the shoplifter passed out on the tile floor. And she isn't coming to. So the EMTs are called in, and when they can't get her to come to, they haul in a gurney to take her to the now waiting ambulance. The EMT's truss her up like a Thanksgiving turkey on a backboard, plop her on the gurney, and out the doors she goes.
The couples are watching all this unfold, quietly taking in all the events, when an EMT comes running out of the restroom. In his one hand is the woman's purse, in his other hand is the shopping bag containing the dead cat. He runs up to the gurney, stuffs the them between her knees, straps them in and off she goes to the ambulance.
So somewhere in the Twin Cities, there is a EMT crew, still wondering why on earth some passed out woman had a dead cat in her Nordstroms bag.
And yes, I think God has a sense of humor.
Back when the Mall Of America was fairly new, it was a bit of a novelty around here, a destination. So a family that hails from about 40 miles west of where I live, made it their Christmas shopping destination. Dad and Mom, one of their married daughters, and her husband leaving in the early morning hours to spend the day in Minneapolis.
The daughter and her husband leave their rural home, drive to the parents farm where Mom has breakfast waiting for them. After about a half break for breakfast, they got back into their still slightly warm vehicle, and are off on their day.
After driving for about a half hour, everyone notices an awful smell coming from their car. I mean bad, really bad. So bad in fact, it looks like they might end up stopping to attend to this. But after another half hour, everyone decides that the smell is getting better, and they forge on.
Upon arriving at the Mall, they parked in one of the upscale parking ramps, and went in to spend the day.
About 3 pm, with all their money spent, and their time used up, they head to the parking ramp to go home.
As this small group approached the ramp, the automatic doors opened, and they were greeted with the same stench that they had experienced on the drive up. Obviously, it was coming from their car. When they opened the hood, they found that during their breakfast stop, a cat had crawled on the car's warm engine and had met its' untimely demise. So they emptied out a shopping bag, grabbed a ice scrapper, and a tire iron and cleaned the remains from the engine. Upon finishing this gruesome job, they closed the hood, set the bag down, and walked back into the Mall to clean themselves up.
Now the story got interesting. As this small group returned, and approached the automatic glass doors to the ramp, they see a lady in her mid 40's scanning the ramp. Seeing no one, she walked across the ramp, and steals the bag containing the dead cat off of the hood of their car. She makes a right turn, heads right for them and enters the mall, walking right past them.
So now what to do? The two couples decide almost immediately that they need to see her reaction, and start to follow at a safe distance. The shoplifter walks quite a distance through the mall, and enters a set of restrooms near the food court. The guys are telling the women that they should follow, and the women are telling them in no uncertain terms, that that isn't going to happen, when a scream like someone is being axe murdered comes from the restroom.
Now, not far from this restroom is the offices for security. Doors blow open and into the restroom they go. They find the shoplifter passed out on the tile floor. And she isn't coming to. So the EMTs are called in, and when they can't get her to come to, they haul in a gurney to take her to the now waiting ambulance. The EMT's truss her up like a Thanksgiving turkey on a backboard, plop her on the gurney, and out the doors she goes.
The couples are watching all this unfold, quietly taking in all the events, when an EMT comes running out of the restroom. In his one hand is the woman's purse, in his other hand is the shopping bag containing the dead cat. He runs up to the gurney, stuffs the them between her knees, straps them in and off she goes to the ambulance.
So somewhere in the Twin Cities, there is a EMT crew, still wondering why on earth some passed out woman had a dead cat in her Nordstroms bag.
And yes, I think God has a sense of humor.
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Passing of an Agvocate, and Getting in Trouble in Church
So yesterday I got to usher in church. Not a difficult job. You show folks to their seat, hand out bulletins and hand out kids bulletins to the children. Well, yesterday i handed out the kids bulletins to a bunch of adults. Some college age "kids" got them, as well as some of the kids from my high school youth group. Everyone involved got a big smile on their face, and a nod or wink. I was a little worried that not everyone who would see me laughing in church would think it was funny.
The thing that occurred to me was that we so often take too much of our life too seriously. Like a church service. I believe laughter is a gift from God. How often have you laughed, I mean realy laughed in church? Me neither.
I've often told people that I want the punch at my funeral to get spiked so we can hopefully loosen up a bunch of buttoned up Dutchmen. Yesterday, and in the past I've had folks volunteer to spike the punch.(My only worry is that no one is going to dare drink the stuff.8)). But the conversation did get me to thinking about my funeral and who would show up. Would they mourn my passing, would they talk about things like the weather, or would they share the fun/laughs that we had together. I'm hoping the latter. Because as a Christian, upon my death, I get to reap the ultimate reward that Christ has offered us. Eternal life. It should be a party. I mean, the cops show up, kind of PARTY.
Then I open up my SM today and find out that Chris Raines, meat professor, agvocate from Penn State died in a car crash last night. His twitter handle was @itweetmeat. I'm not sure if I met Chris or not, I met so many people this last summer at the #AgChat Conference. But from everything, everyone is saying about Chris, he blessed those who came to call him their friend. He led a full but too short life. The accolades are beautiful and bountiful.
Which lead to this thought. Why do we wait for someone's death to let the world know how they have blessed us? What would happen if we flash mobbed those in our life for being a blessing to us. Granted, like any good thing it might lose some thing in translation, but let each of those who have touched our lives, know what they mean to us? And that our lives are richer for having known them.What if we picked a Brent Boersma day? Or a Kelly Rivard or Alec Winmill Holiday to let them know they are something special? Somedays we could all use that kind of encouragement.
So here goes. Erin, Elizabeth, Troy, John, Kari, Kelly, Elliot, Kaycie, Haley, Laura, Jordan, Sam, Thomas, Derrel, Jay, Marcus, Ray, Brett, Brent, Eric, Dani, Ryan, Jessica, Cal, Steve,Joelle, Shane,Lynn, Dawn, Myra,Janice, Alec, Darin, Brooke, Marie, Ward, Megan, Elizabeth, Lee,Seth, Claire, Cody, Justin, Jon, Michaela and Jeff..............
You mean.this to me ........
Volume one is gonna be really long.................
The thing that occurred to me was that we so often take too much of our life too seriously. Like a church service. I believe laughter is a gift from God. How often have you laughed, I mean realy laughed in church? Me neither.
I've often told people that I want the punch at my funeral to get spiked so we can hopefully loosen up a bunch of buttoned up Dutchmen. Yesterday, and in the past I've had folks volunteer to spike the punch.(My only worry is that no one is going to dare drink the stuff.8)). But the conversation did get me to thinking about my funeral and who would show up. Would they mourn my passing, would they talk about things like the weather, or would they share the fun/laughs that we had together. I'm hoping the latter. Because as a Christian, upon my death, I get to reap the ultimate reward that Christ has offered us. Eternal life. It should be a party. I mean, the cops show up, kind of PARTY.
Then I open up my SM today and find out that Chris Raines, meat professor, agvocate from Penn State died in a car crash last night. His twitter handle was @itweetmeat. I'm not sure if I met Chris or not, I met so many people this last summer at the #AgChat Conference. But from everything, everyone is saying about Chris, he blessed those who came to call him their friend. He led a full but too short life. The accolades are beautiful and bountiful.
Which lead to this thought. Why do we wait for someone's death to let the world know how they have blessed us? What would happen if we flash mobbed those in our life for being a blessing to us. Granted, like any good thing it might lose some thing in translation, but let each of those who have touched our lives, know what they mean to us? And that our lives are richer for having known them.What if we picked a Brent Boersma day? Or a Kelly Rivard or Alec Winmill Holiday to let them know they are something special? Somedays we could all use that kind of encouragement.
So here goes. Erin, Elizabeth, Troy, John, Kari, Kelly, Elliot, Kaycie, Haley, Laura, Jordan, Sam, Thomas, Derrel, Jay, Marcus, Ray, Brett, Brent, Eric, Dani, Ryan, Jessica, Cal, Steve,Joelle, Shane,Lynn, Dawn, Myra,Janice, Alec, Darin, Brooke, Marie, Ward, Megan, Elizabeth, Lee,Seth, Claire, Cody, Justin, Jon, Michaela and Jeff..............
You mean.this to me ........
Volume one is gonna be really long.................
Monday, September 12, 2011
Does Agvocacy Matter?
So first for the history lesson. I started this blog for work intially, based on a series of conversations that I had with a young vegetarian on the east coast. Now Megan would argue that she isn't on the east coast, but she's a lot closer to it than I am, so east coast it is. I met her because of some volunteer work I do with teens, and responded to a blog she wrote, and then I commented on a blog she had about animal agriculture. That started an eight month back and forth correspondence on animals and farms.
Megan has never been to a farm, although she lives in a largely agricultural area. The city she lives in is only about 15,000 people. But she and I exchanged thoughts and ideas on "factory" farming and anything else that happens on the farm. To Megan's credit, she came to the table with an open mind, and was willing to talk. Understand that for the first 6 months, I didn't know anything about Megan other than the size of her home town and her first name. Meagn would ask questions, and occassionally, post requests for questions for her farmers friends on the PETA board. A few others farmers chimed in after the story was picked up by a local paper, but in large, it was a conversation between Megan and I. At one point I printed out our back and forth conversation, it was 72 pages long.
I'll admit to wondering what she thought of the talks more than once. At one point she even asked me,"Why the interest in me?" My response was that she had allowed me to see what went into the thought process of an animal rights person, and I appreciated it.
As time went on, the length between responses got longer, and it has probably been nearly two years since we last talked.
So last night, I was pleased to cross paths with Ms. Megan on FaceBook. We got caught up on school and such, and then I asked the question that I wanted to ask for quite some time.
"What was the thing that you learned during our conversations that you didn't know before?"
Megan,"one thing I learned? hmm... well... I think I probably learned more about other activists than about cows XP I learned that..... it seemed most ar activists just jumped to conclusions and didn't really want to learn on their own about how animals are really treated.... sometimes peta can be a little biased... maybe exaggerate a little :P and it seemed to me that most activists don't understand that. i didn't understand that either."
Megan took some heat for even talking to farmers on the peta page. But she was cool with it, way beyond her years, cool with it. In all, she's a pretty cool kid.
Megan is a young lady, she's still in high school. She's kind of fallin out with the whole AR movement. Life gets in the way some times. Veiws do change. But she took the time to ask questions, and I for one am really glad we talked. I consider her my friend. Thanks Megan.
Oh, and yes, Agvocacy Matters.
Megan has never been to a farm, although she lives in a largely agricultural area. The city she lives in is only about 15,000 people. But she and I exchanged thoughts and ideas on "factory" farming and anything else that happens on the farm. To Megan's credit, she came to the table with an open mind, and was willing to talk. Understand that for the first 6 months, I didn't know anything about Megan other than the size of her home town and her first name. Meagn would ask questions, and occassionally, post requests for questions for her farmers friends on the PETA board. A few others farmers chimed in after the story was picked up by a local paper, but in large, it was a conversation between Megan and I. At one point I printed out our back and forth conversation, it was 72 pages long.
I'll admit to wondering what she thought of the talks more than once. At one point she even asked me,"Why the interest in me?" My response was that she had allowed me to see what went into the thought process of an animal rights person, and I appreciated it.
As time went on, the length between responses got longer, and it has probably been nearly two years since we last talked.
So last night, I was pleased to cross paths with Ms. Megan on FaceBook. We got caught up on school and such, and then I asked the question that I wanted to ask for quite some time.
"What was the thing that you learned during our conversations that you didn't know before?"
Megan,"one thing I learned? hmm... well... I think I probably learned more about other activists than about cows XP I learned that..... it seemed most ar activists just jumped to conclusions and didn't really want to learn on their own about how animals are really treated.... sometimes peta can be a little biased... maybe exaggerate a little :P and it seemed to me that most activists don't understand that. i didn't understand that either."
Megan took some heat for even talking to farmers on the peta page. But she was cool with it, way beyond her years, cool with it. In all, she's a pretty cool kid.
Megan is a young lady, she's still in high school. She's kind of fallin out with the whole AR movement. Life gets in the way some times. Veiws do change. But she took the time to ask questions, and I for one am really glad we talked. I consider her my friend. Thanks Megan.
Oh, and yes, Agvocacy Matters.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
The Deep End of the Pool
So I did it. Threw my name into the running for the AgChat Foundation Agvocacy Training 2.0.
Then they did something entirely unexpected, they said come on down. Crap, now what?
I mean I'm flattered, but these folks are techies. bloggers, and experts in the social media field. They speak foreign languages like twitter and Quora. I'm a feed salesman who talks to...... well, my customers mostly.
I'm really interested in seeing how they are going to train someone like me. Heck, some teens changed to screen saver on my droid and three weeks later I'm still needing to get that changed.
But I do share a passion to tell the story of agriculture with those removed from the farm and how their food gets to them. I'm a firm believer that each of us owes that to our industry. Times and methods of communicating are changing, and we can be the "I remember when" guy, or embrace the change.
I'm gonna try embrace it, I'll keep you all posted on how that works out. It's going to be a bumpy ride.
Then they did something entirely unexpected, they said come on down. Crap, now what?
I mean I'm flattered, but these folks are techies. bloggers, and experts in the social media field. They speak foreign languages like twitter and Quora. I'm a feed salesman who talks to...... well, my customers mostly.
I'm really interested in seeing how they are going to train someone like me. Heck, some teens changed to screen saver on my droid and three weeks later I'm still needing to get that changed.
But I do share a passion to tell the story of agriculture with those removed from the farm and how their food gets to them. I'm a firm believer that each of us owes that to our industry. Times and methods of communicating are changing, and we can be the "I remember when" guy, or embrace the change.
I'm gonna try embrace it, I'll keep you all posted on how that works out. It's going to be a bumpy ride.
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