CONGRATULATION Worldprofit has recently hit 1000113 Members Today

Posted on July 10, 2011 by Howard Martell

By Howard Martell
I wanted to share with you a quick story on my experience with Worldprofit Inc. Over the past 2 years when joined this company from day one was impressed with the 75 highly trained monitors who volunteer there time for the betterment of our community who close all sales for our members. These people are true pioneer who saw the vision of what started back in 1994 when the live business was put into place and glad to be one of those volunteers who helps our new free associates with greeting, getting them to a 20 minute overview video, and finally closing the sale with the serious ones.
Some of the immediate items received which were our priceless was unlimited free lifetime traffic, free content at http://www.jeffreylantarticles.com 284 Blog Articles  written by CEO Dr. Jeffrey Lant each day for us! This not only creates subscribers but potential customers in any business that you may have been promoting.
Millionaire Bootcamp George Kosch IT Guru gave me a blueprint towards success and each of my members who join me and profit he uses the KISS principle and is building a solid well trained serious marketing experts who will go out and become successful based off this simple to follow Bootcamp which gets updated weekly
This internet service provider has great caring leadership and wanted to thank them Dr. Jeffrey Lant (CEO), George Kosch (IT Specialist), and finally Sandy Hunter President this team wants success for every serious business person globally!
In closing if you would like to get more information on how we can help you grow both as human being, and top internet marketer feel free to click on my link within this blo
http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=pk5Q9yhW
God Bless,
Howard Martell is the President of HOMEPROFITCOACH.COM and has worked online for well over 12 yrs part time while holding down a full time career of  over 18 and half years active duty US Navy. For the past year, with World Profit online, he has helped people create residual income using automation.
FOR MORE INFORMATION FEEL FREE TO COMMENT ON HIS BLOG or call him at 757-962-2482 serious inquires only!!!
Visit my site for the following free goodies: Since 1994, Sandi and co-founders Dr. Jeffrey Lant and George Kosch have built Worldprofit into the company known as the
Home Business Experts.  Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell MCEC http://HomeProfitCoach.com

An appreciation for the life of Paul Baran, dead at 84; helped create Internet’s precursor Arpanet.

It is always great to pay tribute to a contributor that one has never heard of.  In my case, Paul Baran was one of those people. The ARPANET was his baby.  Who knew?
An appreciation for the life of Paul Baran, dead at 84; helped create Internet’s precursor Arpanet.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant

Paul Baran

Fellow citizens of the Internet, one of our Founding Fathers, Paul Baran, has died, at 84,  in Palo Alto, California.
Pray, take a moment from your busy day online and have a kind thought for a man, a brilliant man, so far in advance of his times that he was written off as little more than a kook, his idea science fiction, not practical technology.
This is a story about people who see visions that others cannot see. So often spurned, they must instead be cherished.
This is a story about people who should have known better, whose ignorance and  unwillingness to listen nearly cost the world one of its greatest and most important assets. Thankfully wiser heads prevailed.
This is the story of a man who persisted in the face of rejection, wondering why authorities didn’t “get it”  but determined to persist until they did. He triumphed and we all won.
This is the story of Paul Baran, and it is a fascinating look at how one man’s persistence and unwavering belief can lead to dramatic change and benefits for all.
Born in Poland, April 29,1926.
Paul Baran’s first piece of good luck happened when his Jewish parents emigrated from Grodno, Poland (now in Belarus) May 11, 1928. Had his family stayed in Poland, they would almost certainly have gone to a concentration camp and horrible death. But Paul, his two siblings and parents landed in Boston, then moved to Philadelphia where his father opened a grocery store.
Baran graduated from Drexel University in 1949 (then called Drexel Institute of Technology with a degree in electrical engineering. After graduation, he joined the Eckert-Mauchly Computer Company where he did technical work on UNIVAC models. Baran was lucky again, for these models were the first brand of commercial computers in the USA. He had a heady glimpse of the future, a computer-based future.
In 1955, he moved to Los Angeles and worked for Hughes Aircraft on radar systems. He obtained a Master’s degree from UCLA. His thesis was on character recognition.
Baran then went to work at the RAND Corporation (1955).  There he took on the task of designing a “survivable” communications system that could maintain communications between end points in the face of damage from nuclear weapons. This was the height of the Cold War and America was vulnerable. Most American military communications used High Frequency connections which could be put out of action for many hours by nuclear attack.
Baran decided to automate RAND director Franklin B. Collbohm’s previous work with emergency communication over conventional AM radio networks and showed that a distributed relay mode architecture could be survivable. Moreover, the Rome Air Development Center soon showed that the idea was practical. Paul Baran had a foot on the path that would, in due course, become the Internet we all rely upon and cannot imagine life without.
“Message blocks”.
Still at RAND Corp. Baran next outlined the fundamentals for packaging data into discrete bundles, which he called “message blocks”. The bundles are then sent on various paths around a network and reassembled at their destination. Such a plan is known as packet switching.
Baran’s key idea was to build a distributed communications network, less vulnerable to attack or disruption than conventional networks. In a series of technical papers published in the 1960s, he suggested that networks be designed with redundant routes so that if a particular path failed or was destroyed, messages could still he delivered. He approached AT&T with  the idea to build his proposed network.
AT&/T’s response? “Baloney, your idea won’t work”, and so resoundingly refused.
Had the luck of Paul Baran, the lucky man, run out at last?
Certainly not because Baran had the necessary trait for this unpromising situation: he was dogged, persistent, indefatigable about explaining just what his futuristic invention could do. He never quit.
He needed it all in the face of AT&T’s rooted opposition to Baran’s idea. What they particularly disliked was this:
Baran’s design flew in the face of telephony design of the time, placing inexpensive and unreliable nodes at the center of the network, and more intelligent terminating “multiplexer” devices at the endpoints. In Baran’s words, unlike the telephony company’s equipment, his design didn’t require expensive “gold plated” components to be reliable.
AT&T engineers said over and over that Baran just plain didn’t understand the science and technology. But he did…  far more than the AT&T people who couldn’t see the bonanza in front of them and so threw away the chance to develop — and possibly own — the  Internet, a situation with immense consequences for all of us, not least AT&T which painfully discovered that “big” isn’t always right.
“Paul wasn’t afraid to go in directions counter to what everyone else thought was the right or only thing to do,” said Vinton Cerf, a vice president at Google who was a  colleague and long-time friend of Baran. “AT&T repeatedly said his idea wouldn’t work and wouldn’t participate  in the Arpanet project.”
Arpanet… and vindication.
In 1969, the Department of Defense’s Advanced Research Projects Agency built a network that used Baran’s ideas along with those of other communications pioneers, the Founding Fathers and Mothers of the ‘net.
In due course, Arpanet was replaced by the Internet we know. Paul Baran’s crucial invention packet switching still lies at the heart of the network’s internal workings, an insight so valuable that President George Bush gave him the National Medal of Technology and Innovation.
One of the nicest things to report is that Baran always said, forthrightly, that credit for development of Arpanet and the Internet should always be distributed as widely as possible. Founding People all needed recognition, not just a few. It was a gesture from the heart.
Now one of the great inventors of the age, a man of intelligence and insight is gone. However Paul Baran’s chief invention (amongst his many) lives on, spectacularly so. Lucky himself, we are yet the luckier… for we had him, an avatar for the new, connected world in which we all must make our way. Paul Baran, we have good reason to remember you and rejoice.
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About The Author

Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc. providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling books and conducts daily webinars. Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell http://HomeProfitCoach.com. Check out Commission Crusher -> http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=fe2JEfUO

Admonition to myself: 11-hour workdays boost heart disease risk.

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Actung! I am writing this article for myself… and for the legions of ultra-busy people who work 11 hours a day or more. We are the people who keep the world going… but to be able to do so, we need to stay healthy and alive.
On April 6, 2011 Bloomberg News reported that we’re at risk and need to take immediate action to minimize the problem.
The facts.
Adults who worked 11 hours a day or more had a 67 percent higher risk of developing coronary heart disease than those who worked eight hours, a study in the Annals of Internal Medicine reported (April 5, 2011). The researchers also found that by adding working hours to a standard heart attack risk assessment model, they could increase the accuracy of heart disease predictions by 5 percent.
Heart disease, the nation’s leading killer.
According to the National Institutes of Health, heart disease is the nation’s leading killer. More and more people succumb to it because more and more people are working more and more hours, making ours the least leisured generation ever, the one with the greatest challenges and risks.
Remarks by Mike Kivimaki, project lead researcher.
Current evidence on coronary heart disease prevention emphasizes the importance of focusing on the total risk rather than single risk factors. “People who work long hours should be particularly careful in following healthy diets, exercising sufficiently, and keeping their blood pressure, cholesterol levels, and blood glucose within healthy limits,” said project director Kivimaki.
Srihari Naidu, director of the Cardiac Catheteriization Laboratory at Winthrop University Hospital, Mineola, New York, said these data show that how people live — their stress levels, sleeping, eating, and exercise habits — can affect their risks for heart disease. “The choices we make in our lifestyle may have consequences,” Naidu said.
Study details.
The research followed 7,095 civil service workers in London who were ages 39 to 62 at the start of the trial. They were screened for heart disease every five years. The study found that 192 people developed heart disease over 12.3 years of follow up. Those who worked 10 hours a day had a 45 percent higher risk of heart disease than those who worked seven to eight hours.
Self-Talk for myself.
If you’re one of those people who work 10 hours plus a day, listen up. I’m one of you…. and like you I need to take such warnings with more seriousness. So, for me, for you, I’ve created a list which I intend to keep right next to my computer. You should, too….
1) Don’t ignore this warning, the way you’ve ignored previous warnings.
You’re no spring chicken; you’re getting older… and if you want to get older still, don’t just read these survey results… LIVE THEM!
The plain fact is, researchers have known for a long while the risk factors causing heart disease. You’ve seen, what, a few dozen warnings… and managed to ignore most of them, not the least of which comes from your physician as he urges you for the umteenth time to stop smoking.
Personal note: I don’t smoke cigarettes, never have. That’s a must for all those who value life over nicotine.
2) Get up and boogie.
I spend my entire, extended work day at the computer. To force myself to get up, I keep a list of peppy, jump-up music readily at hand. Who doesn’t want to get up and boogie when the song is Michael Jackson’s “Don’t stop ’til you get enough”…. or any other lively number that gets more than your feet moving.
Music on… jump up… and move that body.
Okay, so you’re not Fred Astaire. So what? Exercise and its benefits are for the do-er, not the watcher… and it’s your heart we want to keep in tip-top shape.
3) Walk.
Make it a point to walk, briskly too, at least 40 minutes a day.
Walk, too, every other chance you can… to the post office, the barber, to the local cinema. You know the advantages of walking; you’ve known them all your life. Now decide to do something. Leave the car at home… and walk.
4) Eat small portions more often.
The obesity phenomenon which was once pretty much an American affair has gone universal with a vengeance. Heart disease and excess pounds are, we know, related. But you can start solving this problem… today… by eating more often throughout the day but eating less.
Here, too, I bet you already know what to do…. you just aren’t doing it. So, vow to make changes now, exchanging those high sugar, high salt, high fat foods for celery and company.
Get over the “giving up” mentality. Replace with the “here’s what I’m getting” mentality. What you get here is plain: more of the distinctly limited time which is the most important thing you can get. Getting more time is the absolutely essential thing, and you have it within your power to get more of it.
Now for strictly work-related observations.
There are many reasons for working 10 hours a day or more. You might have hefty bills to pay and need the extra bucks. You might like the finer things of life. You might think yourself, and actually be, indispensable to your business. You might even be one of those who works hard to avoid the turbulence of unceasing family problems. Whatever your reason… enough is enough.
1) Review what you do, everything you do. What is essential and what merely desirable? It’s time to find and jettison what you can. Put your daily work life and activities under a microscope and scrutinize closely.
2) Got people who can help? Learn to delegate. No, these people will NEVER be as good at what you do as you are… but they’re there and good enough to assist. Besides, they can learn. Cutting back on one task or another may give them the chance to show what they can do to help you even more.
3) Ask yourself how much good you really do in your 10th or 11th hour on the job, where the principle of diminishing returns applies.
Can you legitimately postpone a task until tomorrow? Is the physical price you pay, the extra fatigue, not to mention cumulative health risks worth overworking today… when it could easily be done, and freshly so, tomorrow?
You determine your fate.
The ancient Greeks believed that Clotho spun the thread of life from her distaff onto her spindle; Lachesis measured the thread of life with her rod, and Athropos cut of the thread of life and chose the manner of a person’s death.
Now you have replaced them all… how much of life, even the matter of your death, is at the very least influenced by you. I want more of it… and I now vow to do everything to lengthen my thread, not curtail it. Will you join me? Lach haim.
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc. , providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell http://HomeProfitCoach.com. Check out Mass Traffic Leak -> http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=zv3unWbc

Opening night of Mozart’s ‘The Abduction from the Seraglio’ in thepresence of His Imperial Majesty Joseph II. 16 July 1782. Burgtheater, Vienna.

Here is the music that Dr. Lant recommends below. This is another artice in his series. I bring you these for many reasons but mostly because they are extremely informative and wll wriiten. Dr. Lant is CEO of an internet marketing company. If you want 50,000 visitors to the website of your choice FREE, check us out at www.24hourhomebusiness.com. Now….enjoy the read!

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Important note: To get into the mood for this article and, more importantly, this event, use any search engine and find the overture to “The:Abduction from the Seraglio”. There are many fine recordings to choose from.
Readers: you are about to be ushered into one of the signature cultural events of human history: the opening night of “The Abduction from the Seraglio”. You have arrived at the Burgtheater in Vienna, the cultural capital of Europe… You are in a state of high excitement and nervous, too. You are afraid that you will not be in your seat before the Emperor arrives; (why had the coachman not checked that wheel before?)… and that will never do.
Yes, His Imperial and Apostolic Majesty is even now on his way… for he, like you, has heard the buzz: this is Mozart, wonderful Mozart, sublime Mozart at his best. And the emperor, though an amateur, is a gifted musician, too.  Is he aware that history is being made that night?  Probably. But then wherever the Vicegerent of God Himself goes… history goes, too. That is what being a Hapsburg is all about… and a Mozart, too.
Some background.
The man, Joseph Benedikt August Johannes Anton Michael Adam, who became Emperor Joseph II in 1764, had a pedigree even longer than his name. Unfortunately, that did not prevent him being born under a cloud. For at the very moment of his birth (13 March 1741), the patrimony of his mother, Maria Theresa, was being sundered, pillaged, plundered by Prussia’s King Frederick II who made the creation of mayhem his special talent. As a result, Joseph’s inheritance shrank significantly. becoming less German, more Italian for his empire was both. He wanted vengeance… and Wolferl Mozart was the unlikely device. Just 25, he was, Joseph II was sure, precisely what was needed to show the world that Berlin was nothing more than an outpost of thieves and marauders whilst Vienna was… exalted, lofty. This was music as statecraft… and it was played andante non troppo.
For his weapon of choice, Joseph II was patron of the Nationalsingspiel, his pet project from 1778-1783. Its task was to perform works in the German language and make every German speaking person on earth realize that Vienna, magnificent Vienna, culture-loving Vienna was their true capital, never that cultural backwater, Berlin.
The messy beginning.
Mozart, a young man always in a hurray, wanted Vienna for his capital as much as the emperor did. And so, ever upward aspiring, Mozart befriended Gottlieb Stephanie,  inspector of the Nationalsingspiel and set about the business of turning them into a means of glorifying… Mozart… whatever was necessary.
Relentlessly Mozart lobbied, ultimately impressing Count Rosenberg-Orsini, manager of the opera. The count was impressed enough to ask Steiphanie to find appropriate material for Mozart… and he did: pirating and then altering an earlier work by Bretzner. Bretzner complained long and loud. No one cared. The honor of the nation… the reputation of the emperor was at stake.  Mozart got his libretto, and (so it happened) immortality.
But, first, came the work which even the most gifted must do; something the less gifted never quite understand. Most assuredly work precedes its benefits.
Mozart received the libretto (which he immediately started changing) in July, 1781. At his usual, how-can-he-do-it-so-fast breakneck pace, he wrote three major numbers in just two days. He thought he’d finish the entire opera, the first to be written in German (the job, remember, of Nationsingspiel) in just two months. But even sublime genius often needs more time…
As Mozart wrote, so he thought about just what he was doing. This letter to his father (13 October 1781) gives us an aperture to the creative process at work:
“I would say that in an opera the poetry must be altogether the obedient daughter of the music. Why are Italian comic operas popular everywhere — in spite of miserable llibretti?… Because the music reigns supreme, and when one listens to it all else is forgotten.” But he hadn’t finished…
“An opera is sure of success when the plot is well worked out, the words written solely for the music and not shoved in here and there to suit some miserable rhyme… The best thing of all is when a good composer, who understands the stage and is talented enough to make sound suggestions, meets an able poet, that true phoenix; in that case, no fears need to be entertained as to the applause — even of the ignorant.”
Mozart, the supreme egotist, was of course writing about himself… for by now he had taken on all the necessary roles… the better to create a work of undiluted brilliance. Now the way was clear for Mozart to create a work that would take Vienna by storm and establish him as the ultimate artist of his age… and all the ages to come.
The man and his moment were ready… “The Abduction from the Seraglio” now began to emerge.
It is light hearted and frequently comic, inspired by contemporary interest in the Ottoman Empire,  once Austria’s menace, now the “sick man of Europe” ripe for the taking. The plot takes place in a seraglio, the harem where every delight and debauchery could be found; in short the very symbol of the irresponsible good life we all want.
Mozart delivered it… the action carried forward by spoken dialogue, punctuated by set numbers, including several of the most spectacular and difficult arias he would ever write. He was dazzling… innovative… and cheeky.
Joseph II came to check on the progress of his project. Mozart, of course, asked him how he liked it. The emperor supposedly said, “That is too fine for my ears — there are too many notes.” Mozart, protecting his baby, supposedly responded, “There are just as many notes as there should be.”  But the key word here is “supposedly” for the anecdote may be ben trovato, not truth. Joseph II, after all, was a musician himself; he knew how good Mozart really was.
And now he was on his imperial way to the premier of the work he threw down as a challenge, a gauntlet to his bete noir in Berlin, Frederick II. “We have Mozart as an ornament of our Court!” It was an insult, from one sovereign to another, certified by the raucous applause and huzzahs which resonated  through the ornate Burgtheater the night of 16 July 1782. That applause has never stopped… nor will it ever.
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About The Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., where small and home-based businesses learn how to profit online. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books.
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Lant is also a noted historian and author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell http://HomeProfitCoach.com. Check out Commission Maniac -> http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=rb14eOHk

Want to trigger memories past? Read this now!

By reading this article, you will remember many childhood memories, some good , some not so much.
It  is amazing what we carry with us and how we were shaped. Many things we do and how we do them can be traced back to an event, forever memorable, in our past.
And who generates more memories than our dear sweet Grannies?
Oh…and here is the song for today ….click here!  A classic for sure.
Rhubarb… of my grandmother, her pies, and this ancient vegetable (or in New York State, fruit).
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Some of my grandmother’s possessions arrived here the other day. They have been in storage a long, long time and, at last, my brother and sister decided (no surprise this) that I, as an historian, should store these things until they (or my sister’s 2 children) should be ready to take on the task of dealing with items that are valuable but which no one really wants… the trouble with “heirlooms”.
Anyway, one box of the many boxes received here contained my grandmother’s best china.It’s Lusterware, made in Japan, highly decorative, but very thin and fragile. Irritatingly, two cups were broken, thanks to UPS; that is, however, another story…
What is the story (as you’ll see) is that grammie’s desert plates all arrived intact… carrying with them a host of memories which seized me the minute my helper Mr. Joseph opened the box.
This china, you see, was only used on the Most Important Occasions. And children were not allowed to use it, or even touch it, for Any Reason. I wasn’t allowed to eat off it until I was in college, and even then the idea seemed unduly fast, even heretical. Where china was concerned, no rushing was the way it was; other things, too.
I don’t remember how many times I was allowed to eat off one of these honored desert plates; not often. But one of those rare occasions was when grammie, Victoria Burgess Lauing, served one of her entirely memorable, joy to behold, more joy to devour, pies you never forget. And if (as was common)  the conversation was all the usual family-get-together type (dull as dishwater) until someone (could have been me) “mistakenly” mentioned one of the (numerous) forbidden subjects which even when whispered was sure to lead to the desired altercation, hot words, family entertainment…
but I digress.
With grammie (we never thought of her as “Vic” though that was what her friends called her… we were shocked by this… but never said so)… with grammie I want to make perfectly clear,  it was always about the pie, the whole pie, and nothing but the pie… and when the Lusterware was added, it was,quite simply, the stuff of family lore.
Grammie was a renowned cook, so renowned that all her children (including my mother) could hardly boil water; I like to think they were in awe of her abilities and never ventured to outdo her. That was inconceivable.  Or perhaps, like the children of so many celebrated people the talent couldn’t be passed on.

Grammie and Dr. Lant

In any event I feel bound to tell you that every single pie grammie ever produced was delicious; it was a matter of pride, as I daresay it was with every other Illinois housewife of the period. But the plain, irrefutable truth is that grammie never baked a mediocre, second-rate pie with any deformity whatsoever. We’d all rather have a hand cut off than say otherwise. So her cherry pies, her blueberry pies, her show-stopping pumpkin pies, her peach pies… but you get the idea… were, each and every crumb of them, astonishing.
But the pie that took the cake was her rhubarb pie… and as her “helper” from an early age with this important project,  I feel it only fitting and proper to tell you about my pivotal role… and about the rhubarb, too, which always rose to the occasion whenever my magic grannie summoned its potential and turned its bitterness into poetry.
A minute’s walk from her kitchen, always spruce and never out of control, was the kitchen garden, mostly vegetables, some fruits, always flowers, too, for grammie had an eye for color and arrangement; here, too, I was her “little helper” because I liked vegetables and adored flowers. Those were sufficient passport into the significant zones of her influence. My grandfather was per force allowed in; he loved using his tractor in the largish garden; it was his special task. I was a card-carrying adult before I realized that the apple-pie ordered garden was not only testament to his very Teutonic traits… but also to the fact that he loved her so and took this entirely personal, and useful, too, way to show it. Young people, as we know when we aren’t one, see much but the meaning often follows years behind.
As the designated “helper” (interestingly enough and to their complete irritation not another of her numerous grand children received this high accolade); it was mine and mine alone. These things can happen when you are the first born son and grandson, you know what I mean if you are one and probably take umbrage if you’re not.
As helper, I say,  I was given the task of selecting  just the right rhubarb stalks, for you may very well imagine grammie was precise and unyielding about ingredients. They must be just so.
I may imagine, for I can no longer recall, how she took me by the hand (for she believed in education and knew when to do her part) and showed me the rhubarb patch.  She would have shown me, daughter of England that she was, sharing the great queen’s name, too, how a garden is fashioned and what must be done; in this case regarding the all-important rhubarb stalks. If they were poorly chosen, they might get into and threaten perfection. (She never told me, but I know now, that would never have happened; she had a keen eye for such things and she never overlooked the crucial fundamentals. Substandard stalks, or anything else inferior and not quite good enough for her cuisine and her family, they would have been promptly removed and sent to the compost heap.
In due course, I learned the key facts about rhubarb. First, the leaves are toxic and could quickly and forever end your pie-eating career. She made it plain that testing her on this matter would result in any number of demerits.
She made it clear just which stalks were desirable; which  ones might be down the road apiece (but not yet); which ones were too old and past consideration, which ones needed to be picked, and picked at once. It was rhubarb 101 and in my mind’s eye, I still see us as we were these 60 years and the high importance of the task in time I did alone, without supervision, knowledgeable myself and reliable. She had selected, as she knew,  just the right “helper”.
Once the stalks were brought inside (with the poisonous leaves removed), she perused my work and made appropriate comments, with a courtesy that was all her own. Then she said I could run along, and it was seldom, if ever, that I left without a tip, for she knew, too, having had such days herself, that no child should ever feel impoverished or neglected when so very little could make such a difference.
I doubt that she kept up with the latest news about rhubarb and its uses; she had a system that met the needs and garnered unceasing, universal approbation. Who could improve on perfection?
But perhaps in 1947, the year that brought her in February, her first grand child, and a son to boot, she saw this bit of news about the plant she knew so very well, its secrets, uses, deficiencies, and the way to wend them all to her will… Perhaps in 1947, she noticed that a court in New York State made a significant ruling about rhubarb. The court noted that rhubarb is not a fruit but a vegetable. However, it also noted that Americans in common usage regarded rhubarb as a fruit. And so the court ruled that rhubarb for purposes of regulation and duties must be regarded as a fruit. A side effect was an immediate reduction in taxes paid.
Her comment might well have been of the down-home common sense variety, thinking the court had done the right thing, recognizing the reality and using their noggins. Then, with the certainty that she was sharing a masterpiece, she would have offered you some pie; rhubarb
About The Author
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc. ,
Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell <a href=”http://HomeProfitCoach.com“>http://HomeProfitCoach.com</a>. Check out Commission Maniac ->  http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=rb14eOHk
You can register for free to hold your place while you explore the product and opportunity.  Go Here Now! …and register

OK so…spring is now here, again.

Here is the musical accompaniment for today’s article.  Another in the series of spring time tales. I hope you were able to catch these others one on crocus, one on dafodils and one on the Red Red Robin. Anyway, enjoy the article on the Tulips and feel free to comment at the end.
‘And if I kiss you in the garden, in the moonlight….’ The tulips are coming! April 5, 2011.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author’s note: You will get the most from this article by listening to “Tip Toe Thru’ The Tulips” before you start, or as you read. Search for the subject at any search engine. There are many renditions, both old and new. After all, not only is the tune perky and upbeat but tulips are the embodiment of springtime… and no one can get enough of that!
Spring on the calendar perhaps…
Yes, I know what the calendar says; that we’ve had spring in New England for 2 weeks now. But what do these folks know? I checked my calendar and discovered it was printed in Tennessee. What do they know about the fickle weather hereabouts?  So far ours has been a typical “spring”, a mixture of snow, mud, and exasperation for the fact that winter just won’t let go, ornery and tenacious as ever.
The crocuses came, of course, and lovely, too. I noticed a new shade of purple this year, or, more likely, I took the  trouble to stop, look and  finally see what those industrious croci had laid before me so often before. So determined are they that they would find a way to ascend, even if the  snow were rooftop. I love them…. but they don’t mean spring quite yet; what’s more the birds have had their way with them, per usual. They know just where the saffron is to be found… and they leave hardly any.
The daffodils hold sway right now, but they, too, while arriving just after spring has been declared do not necessarily mean spring is actually here. Like the students of the Harvard Law School across the street, the ones wearing short pants and playing frisbee in the mud, daffodils put on a brave show, none braver.
However, like the students with their visible shivers and white, white legs with veins picked out in unnatural blue, to see daffodils against the dirty snow causes one to check the calender again and verify that yes, it is spring, though we still are dubious.
Tulips mean spring, almost.
Now the first shoots of this year’s tulips are up; I have seen them for, what?, 3 days now. They are so small and tender; my heart goes out to them, as yours would, too, if you were here and took the time to see. Do they know how eagerly the world awaits them… and what a brief, brief life they’ll have? Or, like youth everywhere, are they oblivious, focused solely on the all-consuming business of being young, beautiful, exuberant and truly glad to greet every passerby with a joy whose secret is youth’s alone?
Tulips, you see, are not just harbingers of the real spring near at hand; they are a bridge to memory. When we see a tulip blowing proudly in the wind, we remember (and grateful too) springtimes long gone and smile as we recall how blissfully we spent those seasons in tulip time, glad to be alive! Tulips know their work, know how much we need their magic. They therefore stay a little longer with us than the flowers which precede.  And as our memories are sweet, we thank them…
Some facts.
The tulip is a perennial, bulbous plant with showy flowers in the genus Tulipa, which comprises 109 species. The genus’s native range extends from as far west as Southern Europe, North Africa, Anatolia, and Iran to the Northwest of China. The tulip’s center of diversity is the Pamir, Hindu Kush, and Tien Shan mountains.
Depending on the species, tulip plants can grow as short as 4 inches (10 cm) or as high as 28 inches (71 cm). The tulip’s large flowers usually bloom on scapes or subscapose stems. Most tulips produce only one flower per stem, but a few species bear multiple flowers on their scapes.
Origin of the name.
Although the Netherlands is the country most associated with tulips, commercial cultivation of the flower began in the Ottoman Empire. The tulip, or lale l(from the Persian) is indigenous to much of the area ruled by the Ottoman Sultans. The word tulip ultimately derives from the Persian “dulband”, meaning turban. Look closely at the shape of the tulip and you can see, if your eye is felicitous, the turbanned faithful answering the call from the minaret to prayer. Squint your eye and behold…
No one actually knows how, even where, the first tulips entered Europe. Some say they were first brought to and planted in Vienna, by 1573. Others opt for Holland. Experts like to quibble, and tulips, who know the facts historians seek, do not disclose them; they, like us, enjoy being the center of unceasing attention. The plain fact is, wherever people saw tulips, they wanted tulips. This lead, not long after tulips became known in Europe, to the mad phenomenon called “Tulip Mania.”
One bulb, valued at 10 times the annual wage of a skilled craftsman.
No event shows man at his most venal, greedy, and stupid than the Tulip Mania of 1637. It is generally regarded as the first recorded speculative bubble, where the rarest bulbs could fetch the price of a house in Amsterdam’s finest district — for an instant. Timing here, as with all economic events, was everything. Privately, tulips admit they enjoyed being the focus of such overwrought enthusiasm; they think it’s just what they deserve… and have memorized long passages about themselves from British journalist Charles Mackay’s book on the matter, “Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds.” (1841). Historians doubt some of his conclusions, but to the tulips his every word is sacrosanct.
A poem disapproved, a tune embraced.
Unsurprisingly, given their continuing popularity, tulips are frequently the focus of poets, authors, lyricists. They faithfully encode all this and are effusive in their thanks. Admittedly, they don’t like everything said about them. Sylvia Plath’s poem “Tulips” (posthumously published in 1965) at first gave general offense:
“The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me. Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby.”
Tulips take their cheering task with grave seriousness.  Plath’s reaction to a gift whilst in hospital affronted. Like the rest of the literate world, by the time they knew of the lady’s many afflictions of heart and soul she was dead (1963). The general consensus is that if she’d had more tulips, she would have had less angst. I agree.
Tip toe…
The tulips tell me they adore a peppy little number called “Tip Toe Thru’ The Tulips” and are always ready to sing it as the warm breezes of spring waft. Written in 1926 by Joe Burke, with lyrics by Al Dubin. It brightened the 1929 hit “Gold Diggers of Broadway”. Years later, the calculated oddness of Tiny Tim (born 1932 as Herbert Khaury) brought it again to America’s attention:
“And if I kiss you in the garden, In the moonlight, will you pardon me? Come tiptoe through the tulips with me!?
Tiny Tim died too soon, in 1996. Every tulip remembers him fondly… a man who knew a likely lyric when he heard it and brought smiles to the faces of millions. “Knee deep in flowers he’ll stray…” The flowers will be tulips of course.

This royal wedding thing is getting interesting – and the details…

Here is another article on royalty  (you might enjoy the last one too  GO HERE.)  This article deals with the current Royal News about the upcoming wedding. As we get closer to the date, the story will begin to dominate the news.
It will truly be a Royal Scene and most of us watch just because we are curious. Take a read of this article and if you were invited, for crying out loud, BEHAVE.
For royal wedding guests of Prince William and his Kate, April 29, 2011 a list of does and don’ts, especially the latter.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
By now I am sure you are aware that April 29, 2011 is a very special day in the prodigious annals of the British monarchy. H.R.H. Prince William, white hope of the dynasty, marries his Kate… and his grandmama The Sovereign is adamant that all be done just so — or else.
Sadly, you have not been invited. Admittedly it is abashing, even humiliating.  But you will be glad to know that the lot of the those precious few invited is not a bed of roses. The empire on which the sun never set is history, but protocol, the right thing done in the right way, is very much alive chez Windsor.
Let’s take a look.
The Windsors are nothing if not keen on pageants that are meticulously planned and flawlessly carried out. They know that it was not always thus in royal ceremonial. One way they know this was by careful scrutiny of my first book “Insubstantial Pageant: Ceremony and Confusion at Queen Victoria’s Court”. (1979). I was the first American ever granted access to the Royal Archives at Windsor Castle… and it was part of the deal that The Queen and Prince Charles get advance copies to increase their knowledge of the hopeless mismanagement of ceremonies by their regal ancestors.
Confusions, muddles, and disorganizations were the order of the day. It was  supremely frustrating, irritating, and inexcusable that the English made so many mistakes, even lethal, in presenting the monarchy to the nation. Ceremonies of the highest significance and importance — coronations even –  were so lamentably organized and delivered that the English monarchy became a byword for ineptitude.
We owe improvement to Prince Albert.
Queen Victoria, only 18 when she ascended the throne in 1837 had far better things to do than worry about ceremonial derelictions. For openers she was free of the heavy thrall of the Duchess of Kent, her mother; perhaps the ultimate controlling Stage Mother of all time. The first thing the new queen did was order her bed to be taken out of the bedroom she had shared all her life with her mother… then order dinner to be served to her alone, the first time that had ever happened. She was free, free at last! She was queen, her every wish a command instantly carried out. A few glaring mistakes in court ceremonial counted for nothing.
But the German princeling she married, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha was very, very different. The insidious culture of royal errors and tolerance for same made him nervous, dyspeptic, and determined to apply Teutonic efficiency to the problem. He fumed, he fretted, he even wept at the minuscule progress. But there was progress. Just not enough of it.
As the grasping English built the largest empire ever assembled on  this planet, their royal pageants continued to be notable for all the wrong reasons: they were lackadaisical about the protocol that consumed other royal houses; thereby causing endless hurt feelings. Their planning was always of the too little, too late variety. And like clockwork, security arrangements were so lax that every ceremony produced a bumper crop of dead, the victims of English inability to get it right… and without fatalities.
All this is no doubt known to Elizabeth II and the princes of her house and their constant motto is “Never again!” Thus, they are fastidious in the business of Getting It Right. When the English were a great nation, the sovereigns themselves were scarcely punctilious about such matters; but with only the shadow of empire remaining, they are all adamant that the royal ceremonies, in which they so prominently feature, be the very essence of polished perfection.
Hence the list of do’s and don’ts now circulating amongst the honored guests, be they princes of the blood royal or (that democratic touch the royals are close to perfecting) personnel from the various charities patronized by the bride and groom. In Windsor eyes there is really no difference between them. For them there are, after all, only two ranks: Sovereign… and the rest.
Now to the various admonitions, politely phrased of course as suggestions, recommendations. But they are in fact royal commands and must be treated as such.
1) Don’t give the queen a friendly hug. Michelle Obama, First Lady of these United States did something akin to that and the royal reaction was a tad below frosty.
2) Don’t tweet. You are attending an historic event. Curtail all distractions.
3) Be on time. On this of all days, there is no such thing as fashionably late, even by a minute. The Queen is the last person to take her place; to upstage her is lese majeste, intolerable.
4) Ladies, select an outfit that blends in. You should wear a dress — not too short, not too skimpy, and certainly not white. Most British women will complete the unmistakable (rather frumpy) look that screams “We’re English!” with a hat or a fascinator — a small feathered or jewelled hairpiece attached to a clip or a comb.
More politely disguised commands.
5) Leave your cellphone in the car. No one wants your ring tone to the tune of “The Stripper” to be part of the record.
6) Make sure you have all necessary medications with you. You need to know that no one, absolutely no one, will facilitate your egress to get them… and you will not be allowed to return either.
7) Visit the facilities as often as necessary to ensure bladder control. This means limiting liquids, just as you’d do for a colonoscopy, a not inapt comparison. (Avoid the solution adopted by one ceremony attending gent. He brought a soft drink bottle and used it like a chamber pot. The name of the perpetrator and the incident itself was immediately classified.)
“I didn’t really want to go anyway.”
Upon reading these guidelines and rules, you may say, and actually believe, that you didn’t really want to go to this critical event of “Rule Britannia.”
But we’re kidding ourselves, aren’t we? For the chance to see Prince William and be able to tell your non-invited neighbor that he’s taller than he looks on telly is just too good to pass up. Not to mention the bride, and wasn’t she lovely?
Indeed, to secure lifetime bragging rights because we were well and truly invited, we’d all, if ordered, go naked with a full body search to boot. Honi soit qui mal y pense.
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell <a href=”http://HomeProfitCoach.com“>http://HomeProfitCoach.com</a>. Check out Mass Traffic Leak ->  http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=zv3unWbc

Self Made!

You are not ‘self made’.  No one is. Reflections on the need to admit, to acknowledge, and, above all, to thank.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
I am, amongst other things, a professional speaker of many years experience. Such people are trained to read audiences; see what works… and run with it… while eschewing and abandoning any line that doesn’t arouse the audience and fails to seize their hearts and minds.
The other day I was delivering a lecture on the need, the absolute and unshakable necessity, to work as part of a team on the ‘net; to stop believing that you can succeed alone, all by yourself.
In an instant, I felt the connection with my audience strengthen; it was just as if I had  grabbed the hand of my beloved and felt, in prompt but unmistakable way, the slightest pressure in return; slight perhaps but there, there! It is an unforgettable moment, highly charged with rapture, bliss, and possibilities such is the deep- seated power of connection.  I now had that power at my command….
The noxious phrase: “self-made”.
It is time to take aim at one of the most inaccurate phrases in the English language, the one that allows (usually men) to preen and brag about the fact that are “self-made.”
When they say that you know you’re  in for a reverie composed of the achievements, great and small, of this fellow traveler, fueled by pomposity, egotism,  brash self-congratulation. One needs to be well fortified indeed to abide it… for the cascade is likely to be long, fulsome, and right from the start, excessive.
“Devotions upon Emergent Occasions”,  John Donne, 1624.
John Donne was an English poet preparing, as he wrote this work, to die. With eternity in mind, he was engaged in a sober, fully engaging business;  nothing was more important than to get it right. Out of this frame of mind came these words of profound insight:
No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
The pressing task now, before the bell tolls.
One day, ready or not, the bell will toll for thee. Before that  occurs you need a moment like John Donne’s, a moment of pure insight into who you are, where you are, and how you got to be that way and here.
This is a process that calls for honesty, sincerity, integrity and the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. For now is the time to see your life as a process aided and facilitated every step of the way by people who gave of themselves so that you might advance.
Too often you have been forgetful of these people; yet they are the engines who have vitally assisted in your development and prosperity.
John Dunne is right.  You are not the continent; you are but a part of the continent. You have surely worked hard and long for your success…. but you have not been the sole reason for your success. You are not “self-made”; you are “team made”, a part, but never the whole reason for advancement.
Now,  therefore, resolve to thank, thank often, thank lavishly, the greater your prosperity, the more to thank. They have all made you who you are.
Thank your parents.
It is easy, in fact the easiest of all, to take your parents for granted. I have myself been remiss here and am relieved to acknowledge it and commence correction.
Now that I am far, far older than my parents were when I was conceived, I am clear on what they did for me… and what I owe them. They were not only young and in love when I arrived; they had undertaken on my behalf a responsibility of unparalleled magnitude and life-changing, life challenging importance. My very life and well being depended on them getting it right from the very first thing they did… as well as everything thereafter.
Such people, and the claims are even greater if you had but one parent or were raised by people other than your parents, such people I say desire and must have more than a card on Mother’s or Father’s Day. They deserve and must have more than a bouquet belatedly thought of and hastily delivered. They need to know that you remember them, what they did… they need to be reassured, whatever your age, that you remember…. and are grateful; that you will never forget them as the tolling of their bell comes ever closer…
Today is the day for your parents.
Thank your teachers, too
We are all the product of the teachers who gave of themselves, not just for a pay check either, to mold, craft, transform and enhance us… day after day. We have, too often, taken them and their generosity of action and spirit for granted… and we must not do so.
First, understand and acknowledge there was nothing in what they did for us which justifies us taking them for granted. It must be our first task to expunge that dereliction …  to see what they did as a blessing, daily given, good people working on the never-ending work in progress who was you. You are the result of dozens of people and their continual attention.
First, remember them by name. You are older now… you are able to see what they did as a great responsibility, taken in seriousness, given beyond expectations… a true gift.
Remember them… and, whenever possible, contact the special teachers who went far beyond whatever could have been expected for you… for you. Send them the most memorable letter any teacher can receive: the one that thanks them, that remembers them, that renews their pride in their profession and what they did, its value and its importance.  Remember the many others, too.
Remember, too, the counselors… the clergy… the coaches. They, too, gave generously… and deserve your remembrance and acknowledgement. It is too easy to forget… and overlook. But they deserve much more than that from you. Will  you take the necessary action, the generous action and connect with them, yet again, and deliver the  pure bliss of gratitude? Take this action with joy in your heart, for it is the right thing to do.
Start today. Rejoice at the happiness you will bring the people who have helped make you… and the contentment you will give yourself and deserve, for such sentiments come from the heart, the very best and most important thing created by all, given by you.
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About The Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., where small and home-based businesses learn how to profit online. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books.
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Marketing: A few answers for you from the pro himself!

If you are doing some internet marketing, then  you must pay attention to the pro. Dr. Lant’s articles on blogging will have YOU blogging like an expert . this article on direct marketing also spells it out for you. Read on!

Does your dead dog smell? Reflections on marketing myths and realities from one who knows.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
In the days when I taught university level marketing, I set my eager-beaver students a task.
Write a classified or space ad… and report on how it draws and what you did to handle any responses  you received. In short, this project, like my teaching in general, was never merely theoretical, detached from reality. It was real! Vital! Truthful… and often, as a result, jolting. In other words, your class project either made money… or it didn’t. Much more than your grade depended on it.
The scene of the crime…
All my students were adult practitioners, that is people who were already employed in professional positions or worked in home-based businesses or on the Internet. These were people who had a strong and pressing interest in mastering marketing. These students came because they needed to learn the ins and outs of marketing… or else. To such people one had an obligation, a sacred responsibility, to speak honestly, speak candidly, and address their real world concerns.
And I did.
On one occasion, a bright professional woman (I had lots of them in my classes) had the task of presenting her classified ad to the class… explaining why she wrote the ad she wrote, where she ran it, what the results were, how she followed up the respondents, and (and it was the all-important and) how much money this ad generated.
In other words, it was all real-life stuff.
She wrote her ad, as instructed, on the chalk board, the better for us to see the words which would shortly be shown as either golden, or dross.  Then I became the Joe Friday (“facts, ma’am, just the facts”) of the marketing drag-net.
“When did you start running this ad?” (Specific date required.)
“Where do you run this ad?” (Specific publication or venue required.)
“How many responses did you get?” (Specific number required.)
And then the kicker…
“How much money did you make… after deducting all actual costs of running the ad and responding to respondents?” (Exact dollar figures required.)
The lady squirms…
Now the moment of high truth and full disclosure had arrived. What had started as merely a class project had become for the person reporting a matter of life and death. The ad copy, you see, would show whether she had mastered the marketing essentials that either produced bucks… and all that those bucks could buy… or not.
Everything was riding on what she reported.  And she knew it…
Bad, bad, tormentingly bad.
I an inveterate reader of body language, and this student’s was typical of those who wish they were in any other place on earth rather than here, the cynosure of every eye in this most unrelenting of classes. Of course I knew she was squirming, mulling over how to disclose and deliver facts which (from that all important body language) were sure to be uncongenial. So… along with every member of the class…. I waited to see what the lady would say and do.
And we waited….
Then, at last, she admitted the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth… and it wasn’t pretty. She had run her classified ad six times… had not had a single response… and, of course, and worst of all, hadn’t made a single penny.
Now, the lady, this aspiring marketer, stood before her classmates…. abashed, humiliated, at rock bottom, a total marketing failure.
Then I told her the first essential truth of marketing: does your dead dog smell? And does it, day by day, smell worse… until the nauseating stench overpowers everything else?
The ad copy you produce is like a dog. Its job is to go out, your servant, finding and bringing home what it captures; the quarry that sustains you and gives you comfort, even excess.
No dead dogs do this…  neither do ads which fail to produce responses.
The student began to get the picture.
Her ad hadn’t pulled and yet she continued to use it, paying good Yankee dollars  to do so.. despite the fact she KNEW the dog was dead, stinking.
Why had she done this?
First, because she was sure, absolutely sure, Her Ad Was Brilliant, the stuff of legend… she was invested in the words… certain that given a chance they would produce the desirable results; aged to perfection, like a fine vintage.
But that is a huge mistake… and now she was willing, and the entire class with her, to find the essential nubbin of truth, that made everything she had done worthwhile.
1) Marketing copy doesn’t improve with age. It either works at once, immediately, or it never works at all. Dead dogs never become quick and agile again… they just stink the more.
2) ALL marketing copy, at  ALL times  must be evaluated, starkly , by results and nothing but results.
3) You must never, ever re-run marketing copy without knowing its previous results.
4) The entire business of marketing is about writing copy, testing copy, evaluating the results produced by this copy, then tweaking the copy to improve it and your overall results.
Marketing is and always be an action sport… it is not for the slothful, lazy, or unassertive.
More tips
** Never, ever become invested in, beguiled by the marketing copy  you create. It either works (producing responses and money), or it doesn’t. Success isn’t everything here… it’s the ONLY thing.
** Never re-run ANY marketing copy until  you are certain it works; that is, until you have money in hand.
**  Trash your erroneous but deeply felt belief that you can find marketing copy which is so good, so responsive that you never have to change it, never have to do anything else with it than run it and reap perpetual rewards.
Such copy doesn’t exist, never existed, and will never exist.
Marketing is the most active sport in the world. Those who win at this sport, and the rewards can be staggering, are, to a person, people who are bold, active, engaged… not sleepy-heads hoping against hope that they will find and eternally profit from a few magic words artfully strung together. Those words have never been written.
Thus, energize yourself for the marketing you must do today, for if you want the rewards of marketing you must master and remain focused on and dedicated to the unrelenting truths of marketing.
Otherwise you are hunting with a dead dog… a dog that will never produce results. It will simply stink to high heaven. And that will never do.
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell <a href=”http://HomeProfitCoach.com“>http://HomeProfitCoach.com</a>. Check out Mass Traffic Leak ->  http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=zv3unWbc

I read this earlier and it kind of stuck with me! It’s about Dr. Harry Coover. Who you say?

May Dr. Harry Coover rest in peace. He made his contributions and has passed at 94. Here is a song to celebrate his life and his work. Also, please comment at the end.  This is not as mainstream as Dr. Lant’s usual articles, but shows a sense of variety. You’ll also want to read these few articles along the same lines. One about Jack LaLanne, one about Dr. Christian Lambertsen of SCUBA fame oh…and don’t forget the one about Liam and Theo, a real tear jerker.

Dr. Harry Coover

An appreciation for the life of Dr. Harry Coover, inventor of Super Glue, dead at 94.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Ever hear of Dr. Harry Coover? Probably not.
Know what cyanoacrylates are? Probably not.
Yet both of them have a place in your life — under the commercial name Super Glue. You’ve surely heard of — and used — that!
And now you’re about to learn the story about a smart man, his accidental invention, and how it holds the world together.
Picture the scene…
It’s war time in America – World War II war time that is — and Dr. Coover is doing his bit. He was working on a project; experimenting with acrylates for use in clear plastic gun sights. Problem was, he had to call it quits because those darned sticky acrylates just kept sticking to everything. Dr. Coover was in sight of his most well known invention… but he missed the forest for the trees. That time.
Fast forward to 1951.
Fred Joyner, who was working with Dr. Coover at Eastman Kodak’s laboratory in Tennessee, was testing compounds looking for a heat- resistant coating for jet cockpits. When Joyner spread the 910th compound on the list  between two lenses on a refractometer to take a reading on the velocity of light through it, he discovered he could not separate the lenses.
His initial reaction was panic at the loss of expensive lab equipment. No wonder. He had just ruined a machine worth $3000, which in 1951 was a fortune.
Yes, panic.
But Dr. Coover, remembering his 1942 problem with sticky cyanoacrylates had an “aha” moment. The forest was beginning to emerge… a moment of insight and perception that happens to every inventor — especially if they’re as smart as Harry Coover.
Yup, Harry Coover was about to break through, with the discovery that we all know and use all the time.
Coover in time-honored inventor fashion looked at cyanoacrylates in a new way. Not as things that ruin things like valuable lab equipment… but rather as adhesives with unique properties. They required no heat or pressure to bond.
Eureka! This was new, different, important.
The team started testing Coover’s hypothesis. It must have been fun in the lab as they tried this new substance on various items. Each time the items became permanently bonded… just like Harry Coover and cyanoacrylates.
Kodak knew Harry and his team were on to Something Big. After all everybody and his brother were always attempting to bond things… but they usually didn’t stick for very long which was a source of unending annoyance to all sorts of people.
In due course, Coover received patent number 2,768,109 for his “Alcohol-Catalyzed Cyanoacrylate Adhesive Composition/Superglue” and began refining the product for commercialization. His company packaged the adhesive as “Eastman 910? and began marketing it in 1958.
Marketing types quickly realized (faster than the inventive guys) that “Eastman 910? was most assuredly NOT a name to conjure with. What did it mean anyway? Flagging sales for one thing…  A hot new name, a spokesman, and a break were required.
And, hey presto, there was Garry Moore, host of “I’ve Got A Secret” and Dr. Harry Coover, his guest. Dr. Coover’s secret, of course, was that he had invented Super Glue. And then… he was asked to demonstrate. Coover was a natural showman and was eager to show what his baby could do.
A metal bar was lowered onto the stage, and Dr. Coover used a dab of the glue to connect two metal parts. Then he grabbed one and was raised in the air on the strength of his invention.
America took note. But Kodak couldn’t make it profitable enough. It sold the business to National Starch in 1980, and things took off. The 1942 accident that started it all had turned into one of America’s best-known products… it was the glue that kept the nation together!
But the best use for Super Glue was one you could hardly imagine. During the Vietnam War, it became apparent that cyanoacrylates could be used to treat war wounds. Field surgeons began using the substance by spraying it over open wounds. This stopped bleeding instantly and allowed hurt soldiers to be transported to medical facilities for conventional treatment. This saved lives.
Moreover, in due course, additional medical uses developed: rejoining veins and arteries during surgery, sealing bleeding ulcers, punctures or legions, stopping uncontrollable bleeding of some soft ulcers, and use during dental surgery. Super Glue was a medical marvel, saving lives one dab at a time.
Super Glue wasn’t all, however.
Dr Coover was an invention dynamo his entire career. He held over 460 patents by the end of his life. But he had always been an achiever. He studied chemistry at Hobart College in New York and then received a master’s degree and doctorate from Cornell University. He took a job with Eastman Kodak Co. and stayed with them his entire professional life; after retirement he stayed on as a consultant.
Dr. Coover understood the business of inventing. He spent his life pushing the envelope, dreaming dreams… and changing the world, one discovery after another. He understood, too, that inventors need optimism. They needed good work habits… persistence… the ability to see things in a different perspective to get results. They needed good team members…. and always, always good humor. When you’re going to places no one has ever been before there will be lots of errors… and therefore lots of humor required.
Dr. Harry Coover excelled in them all.
Along the way, his achievements garnered many awards and a lifetime of recognition. He deserved them all… Industrial Research Institute Medal Achievement Award, the Maurice Holland Award, the ACS Earl B. Barnes Award, and the AIC Chemical Pioneers Award. In 2004, he was inducted into the National Inventor’s Hall of Fame. And then in 2010, President Obama awarded him the National Medal of Technology and Innovation.
Dr. Harry Coover, dead at 94, March 26, 2011.
Dr. Coover is now gone. But his most famous invention — Super Glue — remains. It is a legacy that will stick… a useful legacy beloved of fixer-uppers everywhere. Coover always said he had a special place in his heart for his sticky invention, the invention that gave him the nickname “Mr.  Super Glue.” And why shouldn’t he?
Inventors are special people. They see the world as it can be… not just as it is. Of these inventors, Dr. Coover was one of the best. He will be missed, of course; such people always are. But he gave us his best… and that was ample.
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About The Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., where small and home-based businesses learn how to profit online. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books.

The first woman politician of prominence – she paved the way: Geraldine Ferraro

Geraldine Ferraro was my Representative in the House back when I lived in Queens, New York.   It did seem out of place back then but I remember Bella Abzug as a representative around the same time. I recall thinking back then that these were “men’s” jobs. she had been a teacher. That was a woman’s job. And …there was nothing wrong with thinking that way.
Geraldine Ferraro may you rest in peace.
‘If we can do this, we can do anything.’ An appreciation for the life of Geraldine Ferraro,  ex-vice presidential candidate.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
In 1984 a streaked-blond, peanut-butter-and-jelly-making mom made history… before she became an object lesson in unwittingly hurting the candidate and political party she was there to help.
Her name was Geraldine A. Ferraro, and now she is dead at 75, March 26, 2011 of complications from multiple myeloma, a blood cancer she had doggedly battled for 12 years.
Her day of days, July 11, 1984.
Arguably the most important day in at least her public life occurred July 11, 1984 when Walter “Fritz” Mondale made history by selecting U.S. Representative Geraldine Ferraro as his vice presidential running mate. At a stroke, she became the first major-ticket VP candidate… and the first national Italian-American candidate, two facts which proved to be critical in her startling ascent and the muddle, distractions, and stumblings which followed.
A presidential candidate’s first important act is the selection of a vice presidential nominee.
Americans look to their presidential candidates to demonstrate executive problem-solving skills and leadership. But such a candidate, unless he is president himself (when he and his record automatically become the focus of the campaign) have a big problem which must be handled early and without error.
While they might have the skills to be  president and even an impressive list of important accomplishments and decisions should they, say, have been governor of a major state (like Reagan and California), voters are still being asked to gamble that a person who has never made presidential- level decisions can, in fact, make them,  not surprise the nation (as has happened often enough) with ineptitude; (like Jimmy Carter, the master of Oval Office missteps and pratfalls.)
The only person immune from this aspect of any given campaign is an incumbent. If there is such an incumbent, he automatically becomes the virtual sole focus of the campaign, pro or con. (Obama take note).  But that problem, in 1984, was Reagan’s.
Mondale’s problem was the usual one of an out-of-power party… showing America it would be better off with a new president it didn’t know much about, instead of retaining  the incumbent they already knew, but who now stood before them no longer fresh, battle-scarred, and, of course, (whatever his achievements) with the usual legion of second-guessing detractors.
For the challengers the selection of the right VP candidate is crucial, couldn’t be more important. Yet candidates often (quick, can you say Senator John McCain?) muff this business… and help derail their own campaigns, by turning what should have been a plus into an unexpected minus. America always notes this with alarm, incredulity, disdain, and usually dismissal.
“Fritz” Mondale… the nicest guy in the world… except for Ronald Reagan.
Mondale, Jimmy Carter’s vice president, was by common repute a deeply honorable, good natured, well balanced man. He was the boy next door about, so the Democrats hoped, to get the prize ordinarily kept from the nice guys famously finishing last.
But he had a problem. “(Most) everybody loves Ronald” Ray-Gun. He needed a way to lay a finger on the guy and help America wise up. Because the Democrats thought Reagan unsympathetic to women’s issues… they needed a candidate who could help galvanize women. Abigail Adams, wife of the second president, had written him “don’t forget the ladies.” Democrats didn’t intend to. But how?
There she is… Mrs. America… Geraldine Ferraro.
She was pert, lively, credible, a real-life mom with real-life mom joys and dilemmas. She was also  a former Queens, New York prosecutor. There she battled the intractable problems of a great city which had them to spare; her daily diet rape, crimes against the elderly, child and wife abuse, so draining she later rote they caused her to develop an ulcer. And the liberal principles which, at her best, defined her.
At the urging of Mario M. Cuomo, then lieutenant governor of New York and another “Italo” wanting friends for his  own ambitions, suggested she run for Congress. She did, ultimately winning 3 terms, learning fast the tribal rituals of the House of Representatives and, most of all, learning to work with its chiefs. This included House Speaker Thomas O’Neill. He liked her and helped her advance within the establishment to chairwoman of the Democratic Platform Committee, a plum assignment for understanding the party and its players nationwide. In due course, it was O’Neill who urged Mondale to select her as his running mate. It goes without saying that all Democratic congresswomen (they called themselves the A Team)  were in her corner, saying that Geraldine was what they needed to wow the women, and the nation.
“Fritz” bit… and made the calculated decision to put a woman on the ticket. Whether she was the best available woman, or not, will always be argued. She was a gal, she was a great, tireless campaigner with a feisty, upbeat style people liked… all to the good. But… and these were big buts… she knew nothing of the world beyond Queens (a problem most of its denizens have); she had no executive experience at all… and absolutely no foreign policy experience or expertise.
But Mondale selected her anyway. This turned his dull nominating convention into a thrilling celebration of women in America, their inexorable, soul-stirring progress to the heights of the nation. As Ferraro said “If we can do this, we can do anything.” Millions felt uplifted, glasses raised, tears shed. It was a signature American event…
… And it began to fall apart within just hours as questions began to be raised about her husband’s financial and tax records. There were nasty innuendos, too, about organized crime, god fathers, the paraphernalia of ethnic hate. Mondale learned the hard way that behind every successful woman candidate is a husband… the man he didn’t select, but who could cause  an entire campaign to stumble. So it was with Ferraro and the man she loved. Thus, Ferraro and her connections became part of Mondale’s problem… instead of the solution she had once appeared to be.
In the end, of course, she probably wasn’t the ultimate cause for Mondale’s demise. Ronald Reagan was. America loved Reagan (despite lapses and errors). And he was becoming, right before their eyes not merely a president but a statesman, a man they liked, trusted and revered. Fritz never had a chance, and of course Ferraro went down with him.
Now the mom from Queens is gone, a footnote in history, not a chapter. But I prefer to remember the best moment of her busy life: “If we can do this, we can do anything.” She was absolutely right about that.
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About The Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., where small and home-based businesses learn how to profit online. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books.

Did you know words are born? My BFF said OMG after ROFL (that’s like LOL)

We are all using these phrases, mostly in out texting and social media. Twitter limits us to 140 characters so it is great to have some of these real shorties. I am glad OED has taken the time to update and keep us current.
I know Dr. Lant is very familiar with the language and embraces words that are recognized. So…here we go …enjoy! BTW, go get your dictionary before you start reading out loud!  Then check out this article too. Oh, and why not learn a few words for your next reunion. Prepare – go read this article on how to get ready.
OMG Oxford English Dictionary adds LOL and 1900 other entries.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
If you love the English language at all, you’re always glad to hear that it’s thriving, by far the language with the greatest number of words and senses (that is, how those words are used). We know this in large measure from the hard-working folks at Oxford English Dictionary, which rightly bills itself as “the definitive record of the English language.”
March 24, 2011 OED announced its latest update, revising more than 1,900 entries and adding new words from across the dictionary. As chief editor, John Simpson, reported things are hopping at OED.
Item: the new OED website is a gigantic success. In January, 2011 alone over 43% of all OED entries were accessed online at least once.
The most commonly researched words were dictionary itself. Then love, followed closely by culture… and an old favorite, nice.
Item: Over 30% of OED has now been revised and updated.  285,403 out of a total of 796,591 “senses” have been revised.
Item: 45,437 new words and meanings have been added since the last update. That means, over 13% of the dictionary is entirely new.
Item: Of the updated senses, 27% are “scientific” — or were at least considered to fall within the sections allocated to OED’s scientific editors.
All this is good news for people in love with language generally and the English language in particular. The English language is growing at an unprecedented rate. This is at least partly because of the Internet and its galaxy of new time-saving (purist affronting) abbreviations.
A number of these abbreviations –  including LOL, OMG, and IMHO — are now part of the official English language, but not necessarily because these initialisms are new and widely used.
OMG (“Oh my God” (or sometimes “gosh”, “goodness”, etc.) isn’t a new initialism. According to OED, OMG first appeared in a 1917 personal letter.
LOL (“laughing out loud”) had a previous life, starting in 1960 when it meant “little old lady”.
Fascinating isn’t it?
The minute you start digging into the OED,  not just new entries and senses either, you’re hooked. Hours fly by as you get a peek inside the words that define who we are and how we communicate with each other. IMHO (“in my humble opinion”) this can never be TMI (“too much information”).
What does a word mean? Where does it originate?
OED is a language sleuth. Its daily, never ending task, is finding out what people are saying, what they mean by it, and where both word and meaning originated. It closely monitors language trends and decides when a word should be considered usual English vocabulary. Consider the new OED entry “wag”.

WAGS 

In 2002, the Sunday Telegraph newspaper reported that the staff at the England footballers’ pre-World Cup training camp referred to the players’ partners collectively as “Wags”, from the initial letters of “wives and girlfriends.”
The term then remained relatively dormant, except for a small and brief revival around the time of Euro 2004, before the 2006 World Cup in Germany saw an explosion of usage, as the women, including Victoria Beckham and Colleen Rooney had a high profile of their own. Debates raged in the newspapers about whether the women’s presence was “distracting”  the footballers, alongside an equal fascination with what they were buying and wearing.
“Wag” quickly became a byword for the female partners of male professionals (in football and other spheres), often connoting a glamorous or extravagant lifestyle and a high media profile. By 2007 general readers could be expected to know what it meant… and the word was thus fast tracked to official OED standing.
OED makes a point of noting that it is quite uncommon for new words to reach a level of ubiquity in such a short time after their first appearance. What the rise of “wag” indicates is the importance retained by print media, even in this age of social networking. That surely cheered Fleet Street, where print media circulation and size have been steadily declining.
Other new words in the OED.
“Off the menu”.
The culinary appetites of the English-speaking world are ever more diverse. So are the words needed to feed these appetites. The March, 2011 update sees OED adding such far-flung items as “banh mi” (also known as Vietnamese sandwich;  “taquito” (a crisp-fried Tex-Mex snack); “kleftiko” (a Greek dish of slow-cooked lamb. And many other food-related items.
“From a land down under”.
OED aims to cover lexical developments from throughout the English- speaking world.

Yidakis 

In this update, a few new items from Australian English enter the dictionary for the first time: “flat white”, a style of espresso drink with finely textured foamed milk; “tragic” (a boring or socially inept person, especially  one with an obsessive interest or hobby); and “yidaki”, an Australian Aboriginal term for the musical instrument better known in English as a didgeridoo.
One more factoid.
This set of additions and revisions takes OED to the end of the letter R. In case you’re wondering, the biggest entry in this range is “run”. The verb alone contains 645 senses and is now the largest single entry in the dictionary; one sense is to run along… which is what I’ve got to do…
It’s all about us.
Frankly, there are few books as riveting as OED. No wonder. It’s ALL about us. It’s about smart people spending the whole of their productive lives listening to what we say, how we say it, and who said it first. (Maybe you!) What could be better than that?
OED is as vital as the latest email, film, novel, or conversation in the deli. Reading OED you have a comfortable seat for the thing that interests us most about each other: what we are saying right now, new, different, outrageous, crazy, shrewd. It’s all in OED.
That’s why my OED and I are BFF (“best friends forever”). You should be, too.
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About The Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., where small and home-based businesses learn how to profit online. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books.

Do you have any idea who Reichen Lehmkuhl is?

Have you ever watched The Amazing Race? I am a big fan and have seen every episode. If you’ve seen it, you probably remember Chip & Reichen. Reichen is in the news again (if you can call it that!) A very entertaining little story follows – enjoy! And…write a comment at the end …please! Another great read is about a Hooter Girl making good. Check it out it was a fun article. Another one on a similar topic where a guy went a little astray is the article Dr. Lant wrote about Adam Wheeler – if you missed it , I got it right here for you!
Here is some mood music!!!
Reichen Lehmkuhl reveals all — again. What a boy will do to get ahead.
by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
To be honest, I had forgotten  Reichen Lehmkuhl… and apparently a lot of other people had too. That’s the kiss of death for Reichen, a boy who has spent untold hours getting to be “known”, only to slip back into the unfathomable depths of obscurity.
If Reichen doesn’t know about the Myth of Sisyphus, he should. Sisyphus was a figure of Greek mythology, a man condemned to repeat forever the same meaningless task of pushing a boulder up a mountain,  only to see it roll down again. It is a tale of frustration, futility, and despair.

Chip & Reichen

Is it better to inform him about Sisyphus, or not? A scene from Sam Spiegel’s epic film “Nicholas and Alexandra” (1971) frames the issue.
The Bolsheviks of Ekaterinburg have decided to assassinate the entire Romanov family, Nicholas II, his Tsaritsa Alexandra, and their five children, along with some members of their court, even  their dog. Their jailer knows this. He has been holding a sack full of their mail, wondering whether it would be “kind or cruel, cruel or kind” to give it to them…. He stands in the doorway of “The House of Special Purpose” musing. It is engrossing cinema but difficult to decide in real life…
I am faced by a similar conundrum. For it is painful to see what Reichen will do — and has already done — to capture the “bitch- goddess success”. William James, a Harvard man, coined the phrase in 1906 here in Cambridge, Massachusetts. “The exclusive worship of the bitch-goddess success is our national disease.”
James was celebrated worldwide when he made the celebrated observation. He was a man of family, education, worldwide renown, and substantial achievements.
All that he and Reichen Lehmkuhl have in common is the slender thread of Massachusetts birth, though James’ insight is crucial to understanding Reichen.
Reichen, you see, will do anything, everything for the love and admiration of unknown people… this is his curse, and it is painful watching, and wincing, as he grasps at straws which cannot turn into enduring, useful bricks. He is the bitch-goddess’ prisoner… no parole, no escape.
Born Richard Lehmkuhl, December 26, 1973.
Lehmkuhl’s parents, a policeman and a nurse, divorced when he was five years old. Thereafter his mother moved to a trailer park on  the Norton, Massachusetts Reservoir, near Wheaton College geographically, but a world away from its privileged youths. He was known as Richard then; “Reichen” he adopted after 2002. It sounded butch.
At age 16 (so it says in Wikipedia) , he received and accepted an appointment to the United States Air Force Academy. After graduating in 1996, he served five years and attained the rank of captain before his honorable discharge.
That’s the official story.
The unofficial story is more difficult, more important, and changed Reichen’s life.
In his first autobiography “Here’s What We’ll Say: Growing Up, Coming Out, and the U.S. Air Force” (2006) , Reichen tells the tale of being a gay cadet at the Air Force Academy, living a secret life that didn’t remain  a secret and  the harsh reality of harassment based on sexual preference. Writing this book with total honesty was perhaps his finest moment.
But the bitch-goddess success never makes things easy. She exacts a terrible price from those who worship at her shrine and want another dose of addictive fame, success, and the love and admiration of people they will never meet.
That dose, for Reichen, came when he and his “spouse” Chip Arndt were selected for “The Amazing Race 4? — and won…. a cool million the richer. Life wasn’t only good; it was idyllic. Youth, recognition, fans, money, love… it just doesn’t get any better than that.
Reichen was about to learn just how true that was.The bitch-goddess came with her I.O.U…and, as always, it was staggering.
He and Chip, the picture postcard perfect duo, split.
The money, easily acquired, was quickly dispersed, easy come, easy go.
Worst of all, Reichen, an officer and a gentleman by the act of Congress, a man of goals, deadlines, missions accepted, missions accomplished, now was ay loose ends, careerless, without the structure successful people know is crucial to their achievements and emotional well-being. The Air Force Officer who once flew high wasn’t grounded anymore.
For immediate recognition, strip and show all.
Reichen was gifted by God and hard work with an eye-catching bod. Now he decided it could be his passport to greater glories… not to mention lots of dates. And so, no doubt after due deliberation, he decided to put that body, all of that body, on display. Someone should have reminded him of a scene from “Saturday Night Fever.” (1977). A character named Annette wants a relationship with John Travolta’s character Tony. But he warns her, “Good girl or slut,” you can only be one or the other.
Stripped, Reichen started his descent, one provocative image at a time, flexed,  nude, the sex tiger…
He was buff, he was tan, he was chiseled, he was out-of-control.
And the bitch-goddess was grinning in the background… she was enjoying her work.
Every time you saw Reichen in the media, and Reichen sightings were frequent, he had less on, showed more beefcake and was with yet another, always younger guy friend. He made the West Hollywood party scene, where he party-hardied. There were the usual rumors of drugs and the usual frantic dissipations.
Then Reichen found love, or so he said. Lance Bass, younger, richer, celebrated (but dowdy), himself a former ‘N Sync band member wanted what Reichen had in spades… sex appeal to the max. Now there were endless Reichen and Lance sightings. For a while… then this relationship, too,tanked, so fast. It got ugly, it got messy, it got in the papers.
Now Reichen is shopping a new autobiography “It’ll Be Great Exposure.” On Twitter and Facebook, he says he’s dedicating this volume to “all who get fed this line.” In short, Reichen has become the “older but wiser boy”; or at least he says so.
The flesh is older now, though still alluring. It isn’t go much fun to do the party thing either. And it gets old, just ask him, being asked to strip and smile.  He was after all an Air Force Officer, a order giving man of spit and polish, destined for more than an aging boy toy. Now he’s angling for a second chance, a reformation. Only the bitch-goddess success knows whether he can have it… If you don’t see him in the papers, unclad and oiled, perhaps he got it after all.

About The Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., where small and home-based businesses learn how to profit online. Attend Dr. Lant’s live webcast TODAY and receive 50,000 free guaranteed visitors to the website of your choice! Dr. Lant is the author of 18 best-selling business books as well as a well known marketer and consultant.
Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell http://HomeProfitCoach.com. Check out Push Button Money ->  http://www.HomeProfitCoach.com/?rd=qm8CGR4s