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  • Richard the Cutlery Salesman

    Richard the Cutlery Salesman

    Richard and I were often told how much we were alike. I’m sure that didn’t bother me near as much as it did him. But it was true. In fact, I came to think of him as the new improved version of me.

    One example of the apple not falling far from the tree – Cutco.

    Back in the caveman era when I was attending the University of Kentucky I saw an ad in the Lexington paper offering a flexible good paying job to college kids. To find out more you had to attend a meeting at a local hotel. I went to the meeting.

    Turns out the “job” was being a salesman for Cutco Cutlery.

    Cutco makes kitchen knives and gadgets. They’re really great products. They’re also very expensive. They’re the kind of knives your kids will fight over when you pass on.

    One of Cutco’s marketing models it having college kids sell their products. The salesperson went to the prospects house and gave a presentation. When it came time to talk price they always wanted you to quote the price on a weekly basis. They setup payment plans. The full price for a set of knives and kitchen accessories would cause sticker shock.

    If you got good at selling knives they promised to move you up to the waterless cookware division where the money was better.

    I signed up to be a salesman.

    I have no idea why I did that. I was very shy. Going out and talking to strangers about expensive knives was way out of my comfort zone. The demonstrator set I bought was the only set I sold.

    Imagine my surprise when Richard came home and asked us to buy some knives from him. Yep, he had signed up to sell Cutco.

    He was much better at than I was.

    The first step they teach is to make a list of all your relatives, friends, and acquaintances. This is your “warm market” – people that know you and will be more likely to listen to your presentation.

    Richard did as instructed. He gave a lot of presentations. He sold something to just about everyone he talked to. He sold to the parents of his friends, his teachers, and people from church. I don’t think he hit the family members too much.

    We would get reports back from people we know that bought knives from him. They were amazed at his professionalism. He was well known for his rather “casual” style of dress. He wore shorts and a t-shirt to church, even in the worst of winter cold. Having him show up in dress clothes and a tie was a shock for them.

    This was one of his jobs during a summer break from college. I don’t think he ever sold a full set, but he sold something to just about everyone.

    Seems like he got about a 10% commission. So spending an hour to sell someone a $70 knife didn’t make him rich. He did end up with a full set of knives and several kitchen gadgets – many of them prizes for high sells.

    I was proud of him for overcoming his shyness and doing a hard job well.

  • Spring In The Cemetery

    Spring In The Cemetery

    Though it often hasn’t felt possible after Richard’s death, life does indeed go on.

    Spring is when nature shows us there is hope. There is new life.

    I took my camera to the cemetery this morning. Even in a place that is the focus of our pain there is also much beauty.

    Hope you enjoy the pictures (click the thumbnail pictures below to see the full size image).

  • Last 1040

    Last 1040

    April 15th. Tax day.

    Doing my taxes has never been one of my favorite things. Probably not yours either. Just seeing all that money that was taken away from us, and knowing it was just the tip of the iceberg with all the other taxes we pay on a day-t0-day basis, I usually end up in a bad mood.

    This year I got to do Richard’s return as well as ours. His last ever tax return.

    Writing the word “deceased” at the top of his return was a lot harder than seeing all the money the government stole from us.

    Richard was a college kid. He didn’t make a lot of money. So he gets a refund of all his withholdings.

    Of course the IRS has a form to fill out so you can get the refund due a dead person.  So I filled out Form 1310 and attached a copy of the court papers giving me the right to handle the legal affairs of Richard’s estate.

    And it all just seems so bizarre.

    He would be happy to know he was getting all his money back. I wish the check could still go to him.

  • Feel Like a Tennis Ball

    Feel Like a Tennis Ball

    Back in my college days I liked to play tennis. Never was very good at it, in fact my girl friend at the time used to beat me every time we played.

    I feel like I’m back at playing tennis. But this time I’m the ball.

    I’ll be depressed and in the dumps. Then – Boink – I’m on the other side of the net and thinking I might survive. Then – Whack! – back over the net I fly, into dispare again.

    The shots to the feel better side of the net seem to be the nice slow easy soft ball shots. The kind that bring the other player to the net to just smash the hell out of the ball, hitting it back at you before you can get set.

    After a period of being in the dumps, I had been finally starting to get some hope again.

    Then my cousin’s husband posted a link to the video below on his Facebook.

    This video shows a Tiawanese kid singing the Dolly Parton song “I Will Always Love You”. That haunting verse hit me. The song isn’t about a lost child. But that thought of always loving someone even when they are no longer in your life made me think of Richard.

    Whack – right back in the dumps.

    Then later I was reading my email. Someone sent me a link to this video.

    After watching this guy – with all his physical problems I felt guilty. If he can overcome all that and still live a happy productive life, surely I can manage to overcome this grieving and face life with a positive attitude.

    And now I’m floating back over the net to the better side – waiting for that next smack.

  • To An Unconquerable Soul

    To An Unconquerable Soul

    InvictusWilliam Ernest Henley

    Out of the night that covers me,
    Black as the pit from pole to pole,
    I thank whatever gods may be
    For my unconquerable soul.

    In the fell clutch of circumstance
    I have not winced nor cried aloud.
    Under the bludgeonings of chance
    My head is bloody, but unbowed.

    Beyond this place of wrath and tears
    Looms but the Horror of the shade,
    And yet the menace of the years
    Finds and shall find me unafraid.

    It matters not how strait the gate,
    How charged with punishments the scroll,
    I am the master of my fate:
    I am the captain of my soul.