Ninty-year old Sen. Robert Byrd stood on the senate floor shaking with anger, screaming an outrage felt by many Americans, as he choked with emotion, "Barbaric...Barbaric...Barbaric..."

Michael Vick, the celebrated Atlanta Falcon Quarterback and multi-millionaire sports celebrity, had been indicted for being involved in dogfighting.

Byrd's words about the incident were appropriate..."Barbaric..."

When I told my wife about the episode, she nearly cried. We're both dog lovers and don't understand how anyone can take pleasure from hurting these or any other animals.

As the news crews latched on to the outrage, the evidence against Vick grew.

Not only was he "involved", but he was breeding dozens of dogs on his property using "Rape Stands" - a contraption that immobilizes the female for mating because the best fighting females are so mean that they'll bite the males.

Cajun-style dog fight pits were found on his estate in Virginia.

Barbaric...

Later that day, an e-mail notice dropped in my wife's inbox reminding her that she had sponsored several dogs last year at Best Friends - a beautiful organization in Utah that takes in stray, injured or neglected animals.

She sponsored five more this year, each with a moving story.

Shortly, an e-card arrived in my inbox from Best Friends saying that Charlsa had sponsored "Apple Butter" in my name (because she knows I love apple butter). Click on the image on the left to see "Apple Butter" and while you're there, choose a dog or other animal that you can help.

I smiled, thinking about my two dogs at home: Sophie and LuAnn.

LuAnn had come to us when a friend found the frightened six-week old puppy fending for herself in a church parking lot. She became our lover dog - respectful, sweet and playful...and a glutton for attention.

After six months, reluctantly, we realized this puppy needed a playmate. The neighbor brought six-month old retriever-mixed breed Sophie by the house to play with LuAnn and, of course, they fell in love with each other running, rolling and rumbling in the front yard.

When it was time to leave, she told us that she had six dogs and Sophie was going to the animal shelter because she was more than she could handle.

That's how she came to live with us. We didn't really want another dog. How could we love her as much as LuAnn?

Loving each other and never biting, they played so hard and made so much noise that visitors thought they were fighting. They knew how to have a good time.

Sophie especially loved life. In addition to playing, she loved getting on the furniture - especially when we weren't looking - and terrorizing the cat.

When we returned home down our long drive, she and LuAnn would stop growling and playing when they saw our truck, and Sophie would search desperately for a stick. She always met an open car door by presenting a stick (or stick-like-substance) in big jaws for us, while wagging her big, bushy tail so hard that her whole body swayed with the momentum.

For three years, they were never separated. If they had to spend the night at the vet's for shots, checkups or boarding, they slept in the same dog run because they couldn't be apart.

Slowly, Sophie wagged her way into our hearts...like dogs tend to do.

And I've noticed over the years that dog lovers are just better people. It's hard to hold anger and resentment against other humans when you love a dog. There's something about letting the creature inside our protective wall that softens us.

So, when a neighbor called last night to tell us that Sophie was laying on the road, we panicked fearing the worst. We flew to the road and there she lay, just below the crest of hill, all life gone from the sweet girl who loved life so much.

Our hearts exploded with the loss of a beautiful friend who knew nothing but joy.

Back to Michael Vick

 The outrage is justified.

Jail time is warranted.

Suspension from the NFL a no-brainer.

But a better sentence would be working at Best Friends supporting and nurturing those animals in need of his love - any love - until he opens his heart to one of those dogs.

When that happens, a day will come when he no longer feels that soft-wet nuzzle on his arm, and his heart will ache with a pain like he's never felt before.

Then, he'll understand the wrongs he's committed.

---

Go to Best Friends now to learn how you can sponsor a dog (cat, horse or other animal) for just a few cents a month? I would be so happy if you would sponsor a dog in honor of Sophie...

---

David Perdew is a Writer, Photographer, Consultant and Internet Marketer. You can see all his work at World Wanting Peace or The 60-Day Experiment. And if you're interested in becoming a better parent, check out Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust.

It's a true story. Happened to me.

Yesterday, I was talking to three other guys my age while here at the beach on a working vacation - really I was complaining about how nervous I was about my contract situation that was changing.

I was going through a "growth opportunity" - you know, a minor challenge - and was feeling a little nervous about the change.

One of the men said, "I understand about change. I totaled my car on Sunday, but I'm really thankful I wasn't hurt. I guess I'll get a new car. I really liked that car."

Another man, who'd been wearing sunglasses throughout the conversation so we couldn't see his eyes, said, "I wish I had your problem. I found out yesterday my daughter was raped by the son of a friend of mine. And I want to kill him...but I'm not going to. But I want to."

And the last man, who lives just 30 miles from where I grew up in Indiana, said, "I know that's rough. When it involves your kids, you really want to do something to help. A few years ago, my 17-year old son was going through some tough stuff. All I could do was hug him and tell him I loved him. But three days later, he hung himself. I miss him terribly, but I'm so glad I told him how much I loved him. I hold on to that."

Now, back to my original problem...how silly it seems.

In a matter of 15 minutes, I had gone from thinking my little problem was the most important thing in the world to the thought of losing one of my kids.

There's always someone going through something worse than me. My problems are nearly always small compared to others, but at the time, they're huge to me. That's why I need the perspective of other people in my life.

I've had really difficult situations in my life, but not nearly as difficult as I've imagined. Mark Twain said toward the end of his life, "I've known a lot of troubles in my life...and some of them actually happened."

When I see people going through difficult situations -really difficult - I want to help.

Just as our friend Lynn demonstrated last week as she was dealing with difficulties, it always gets better. But it doesn't feel like it when we're in the middle of the crap. Waiting for the improvement is so difficult. Asking for help is the key. Lynn asked and help arrived.

If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you know that being a better father is one of my goals - even though my kids are grown and gone.

I built my first online business around this niche concept and created a course on how to do it with The 60-Day Experiment.

I am committed to supporting fathers and children, and use my experience as a pretty terrible dad to help others...

But as I described in Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust, it's never too late to turn things around.

My own sons have become fathers and I'm happy to say they're terrific dads.

What was my problem? I worked too hard and didn't spend enough time loving my kids in the ways that were important to them. I thought providing a fat allowance, the coolest sneakers and a nice place to live was all that mattered.

Boy, was I wrong.

This morning I took advice from a man who was much less educated than I am, but had a wisdom that only can be taught through experience.

He had spent 12 years in prison by the time he was 30. That was nearly 20 years ago. Yet, he changed his life because he had two daughters who needed him to be a better father.

And what advice did he give about becoming a better dad?

Love your kids enough to let them make their own mistakes and be there when they need your help.

Whew! Pretty simple advice. And pretty solid too.

There have been two studies released in the past month about the effect of fathers on their children:

1) This week, USA Today reported on a study that compared real-life fathers to TV sit-com dads. Not surprisingly, real-life dads didn't fare so well. Nearly all the respondents said their dad had a lot more work pressure than the TV dads and much less time for them.

Even Homer Simpson rated as a better father!

2) The second (which I can't seem to find on the net...but I saw it on TV so that makes it true, right?) demonstrates that fathers are just as important, if not more, important than mothers when it comes to raising children.

And if you've read my report on disappearing daddies called Absentee Dads: A Child's Worst Nightmare! you already knew this. If you think an absentee dad is physically removed, you're only partially right. Some kids never know their dads. But others sit at the dinner table with them each night and still have an absentee dad.

It is just as much an emotional state as it is physical. Being in the house is not enough. Dad must be emotionally engaged and participating with the rearing of the children.

These are some of the horrors of dads who ignore the kids. Children from "fatherless" homes are:

• Five times more likely to commit suicide
• Thirty-two times more likely to run away
• Twenty times more likely to have behavioral disorders
• Fourteen times more likely to commit rape (this applies to boys)
• Nine times more likely to drop out of high school
• Ten times more likely to abuse chemical substances
• Nine times more likely to end up in a state-operated or charitable institution
• Twenty times more like to end up in prison for a long period of time 

Those statistics vary from study to study, but nearly all agree that the consequences of "fatherless" homes is no less than the breakdown of society.

So, why am I telling you all of this on Father's Day?

Dad, you're really important. How you raise your children not only affects them, but possibly the rest of our society. Your responsibility as a dad is huge.

Mom, you're not off the hook. You agreed to birth these children and you assumed your partner was going to be the best dad possible. If he's not, you need to talk. Download the special report on absentee dads. Share it. Protect your children and make sure Dad is part of the picture.

What an honor to be a father today! And what a responsibility...

Go ahead. Celebrate today. Enjoy the hot dogs on the grill or the steak at the Golden Corral, but remember, being a dad is not about you at all.

It's all about your children. Enjoy them. Teach them. Love them.

Then you can truly celebrate Father's Day...everyday!

I'd love to hear your parenting experience here.

---

David Perdew is a Writer, Photographer, Consultant and Internet Marketer. You can see all his work at World Wanting Peace or The 60-Day Experiment. And if you're interested in becoming a better parent, check out Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust.

Have you ever been in a tight spot?

I have.

Several years ago in another lifetime it seems, I crashed on generous friends' spare couches and beds for more than three months. Times were really tough. And without they're compassion, I would have been living in a shelter I'm sure.

This week, I got a note from one of my customers and subscribers, Lynn Stivers. Times are tough for her too. And she was asking for helping hand.

But not a handout.

After I looked at what she's offering, I bought it. It's a great package for those of us who are truly grateful and believe in the power of thought and intention! And well worth the purchase no matter what the situation.

She needs your help before June 14 to save her house.

Here's the link

And just so you know, it's not an affiliate link. Lynn offered 50% commission, but this is one of those times when someone needs it more than I do.

Read her e-mail. Understand her situation. Take a look at the package.

Thanks,

David Perdew

*****************************************************

Hi David:

I've received emails from newsletter owners on several occasions requesting help for various personal emergencies (and for good charitable causes too) that either they had, or a friend, or another marketer, or one of their subscribers.  There was usually a sales page to raise the funds needed.  I've always helped when I could - now I'm the one asking. 

Why I'm requesting your help and what I'm offering in return... 

The bank has scheduled the 14th of June (next week) as the date they will be auctioning my house and I will lose my home BUT I'm raising the money to save my home and my goal is for that auction to be canceled.  I've managed to raise a lot of the money last month but not all of it yet.  I need all the help I can get to reach as many people as possible -that's why I'm asking you to help - I can't possibly reach enough people by myself.  All I need is your help to reach more people - nothing more. 

I'm not going to give you a big sob story - I don't have time for that and besides it's not too late if we can reach enough people and I'd much rather celebrate the victory later than cry about the problem now. 

You probably want to know a little about it though so very briefly and in a nutshell - my husband passed away a couple of years ago, the household income dropped to less than half of what it had been and I took too long to get over his death (trust me when I say you never want to lose anyone that close to you).  I realize that anyone can make up a story but mine is true - the proof is here.  (There's also a bit more about it at the end of this message). 

I earnestly request that you send a mailing to your subscribers as soon as possible and also pass this email on to anyone else you know who has a list.  

I've set up a page to raise the funds here: 

The quality of the product is outstanding and people love them - I sold a lot of them last month and absolutely no one has asked for a refund - seriously - I've even received emails thanking me for a great product - your subscribers may thank you too.  If you need samples to evaluate just let me know and you'll have them as soon as I receive your request. 

I would really, really appreciate it if you would help just as soon as you can - I must get the money to them *before* the 14th and there isn't much time. 

One last thing - the foreclosure was not entirely my fault and I'm going to tell you what happened in case you aren't aware of what banks can do now (here in the US anyway) - I certainly didn't know they could do this. 

I was less than 2 payments behind and getting caught up just fine but the bank bundled the late charges and added some extra fees then transformed that into another "payment" so they could foreclose (you have to be three payments behind for them to foreclose).  The last bill I received from them had no late charges listed like there should have been and more payments past due than there actually were.  

I didn't know they could do that and it doesn't seem right to me at all so I wanted you to know about it in case you ever get behind with a payment - be very careful - I sincerely wish I had been more careful but I had no idea they did that.  

Please help me spread the word (and the site link) to as many people as possible and if you have any questions about anything at all just let me know - I'll answer right away. 

Thank you very, very much for your time and for your help David - I appreciate it more than you'll ever know! 

Sincerely, Lynn 

It's funny how the world works - giving you what you need instead of what you think you want.

First, you take a shot to the left jaw and you see stars. Then, in a flash, the second part of the 1-2 punch lands on the right jaw...and NOW we've got your attention.

Friday, I got took the first hit.

A book arrived that my friend Mark Hendricks recommended called, The 4-Hour Workweek. Talk about a title that speaks to me!

So, I dived in. Even in the introduction, I'm blown away by the accomplishments of the author and 29-year old master, Tim Ferris. On every page that follows, I recognize that I'm busy, not productive, or doing what he calls "work for work's sake".

I hate that. I like to think I'm a systems guy - someone who can figure out a problem and put in a solution that efficiently accomplishes the task with minimal effort.

But efficiency, the author points out, is not effectiveness. OUCH! That stung...

The question, he points out, is not how can I solve this problem, but what happens if I ignore this problem? Is it worth trading my time for?

As I'm reeling from the first realization of how ineffective I tend to be in my quest for efficiency, I get a note from another friend, Roger Carr at the Everyday Giving Blog, who has tagged me in an ongoing blog project to "Describe my single most effective productivity tactic..."

That's the second blow in the 1-2 punch

After a 24-hour sprint to Atlanta to have a little fun with two of my children and my grandson who were in town, it became very apparent to me that I do a terrible job of having fun!

Yet, that's my primary goal in life: Have fun.

To this point, I've not accomplished that because I have a deep belief that fun has to be purchased - you know, "When I get enough money, I can relax and THEN I'll have fun doing..."

Seriously wrong thinking!

Above my door that leads to the deck that overlooks a stream in the middle of the north Alabama woods (sounds like fun already, right?) is a sign with one word painted in huge letters: Simplify!

Tim Ferris, the author of The 4-Hour Workweek, says doing less is the key to accomplishing more.

Better read that again:

Doing less is the key to accomplishing more...

How's that for a paradox? But I know in my heart it's the truth. And I plan to do less, not more, and be much more effective in those things I do.

Including having fun!

This was not the first time I've heard this refrain. My friend Mark Hendricks, who I'm tagging by the way to carry on this productivity exposition, calls this process The Real Secret. You can view the video he uses to explain it here.

And I'm also going to drag Alan Bechtold into this as well.

Why?

Alan, who writes a weekly Ezine called the E-Wealth Report and continues to amaze me with all the irons he has in the fire including his recently launched Big Ass Profits TV, seems to be a master at balancing work and life, while remaining true to himself.

Somehow, I think that holds a key to being more productive AND effective.

Can't wait to see how they answer the question: What's your greatest productivity secret?

What's Your Favorite Productivity Technique? Leave a comment...

---

David Perdew is a Writer, Photographer, Consultant and Internet Marketer. You can see all his work at World Wanting Peace or The 60-Day Experiment. And if you're interested in becoming a better parent, check out Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust.

Charlsa came running into the kitchen, screaming, "David, it's a snake. Oh, David, it's a snake..."

We live in the woods. Snakes are not uncommon. Seldom is it more than a shock, and seldom does it cause us to get a little hysterical. Basically, we've learned to live together: Don't bother me, I won't bother you.

But this snake had brought a small tragedy into our lives.

Here's how it began...

While sitting on our deck not long ago, we noticed two birds that we hadn't seen before. We know our bird population pretty well. With bird feeders hanging around the house, the Indigo Buntings, Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, Nuthatches, black-capped Chickadees, Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds - all know that they're very welcome.

We love they're music.

When we saw a couple that we didn't recognize, my wife dove into the field guide and discovered that they were Eastern Phoebes, a non-distinct gray-to-olive green bird with a very distinct tail wag.

The male and the female are hard to distinguish, but seem to travel in pairs.

In nearly four years of living here, they made their first appearance known to us...and they made themselves home. Diligently, they were flying to the rafters in the eves at the corner of our screened-in porch.

In fact, we could sit at the table and watch as they built their nest in the shade of the roof. Back and forth, back and forth they came, alternately bringing in grass and the makings of a first-class home.

The Missus sat on the nest as the Mister sat in the nearby tree flipping his tail up and down. Shortly, we snuck a peak at the nest with a hand mirror to find four white eggs buried in the nest.

In what seemed like just a few days, the eggs were replaced by little brown lumps with wide-open beaks. Mom and Dad took turns bringing food morsels to the nest as the young ones matured enough to cheep lightly for food. While we had dinner on the deck, we could hear the kids crying out for more like little eating machines.

We delighted in the natural display outside our window.

Then one early morning, with coffee in hand, my wife said, "The phoebes are acting strange. Watch. They take turns going up to the nest and fluttering, then race away."

I shrugged it off as nothing, as I poured my cereal.

Charlsa went into the utility room to get a better view. That's when she came running back into the kitchen.

In my bathrobe, I grabbed a stick and ran to the deck. There, a gray rat snake lay coiled around the nest, guarding it closely as if it were shielding the nest from anyone else. I knocked it out of the rafters to the ground below.

Rat snakes are useful varmints to leave unspoiled. They keep the mice population low. I've side-stepped several rat snakes, maybe even this one, to let them do their job in our world and to honor them and their work. But they are NOT my favorite creatures.

But this one made me mad. And he paid the price, although it was a useless slaughter because he'd already done the damage.

All four of the baby phoebes were gone - small bulges in the snakes belly attested to their fate.

Back in the kitchen, I held Charlsa as she sobbed. "Those poor parents," she said. "They must be heart-broken."

As the phoebes fluttered to the nest looking for their young, I felt their loss. For nearly two days, they flew to the nest, expecting something different each time they showed up.

I started to take the nest down. It was spring and time to pressure wash the house including around the nest so we could re-stain this year.

But the Charlsa begged me not to mess with the nest, please. "They might come back," she said.

Fat chance, I thought. Birds won't come back to a nest where the snake has invaded. They're defeated. It's over.

But three days later, the phoebes were adding material to the nest, making it higher and deeper.

And this week, the missus was sitting on the nest again. Yesterday, hand mirror at the ready, I peaked into the nest and found four more gleaming white eggs.

A big smile erupted on my on my face. They won.

This is where I can add a paragraph or ten driving home the moral of this story: never giving up, or how we all must respect our own nature as well as our partners on Earth, or about the beauty of God's innate natural laws.

But frankly, I'm just tickled to imagine the phoebes starting over against all odds. I'll let you know when the babies fly away this time.

BTW - we've put a plastic Great Horned Owl on the deck below the nest to scare off the invaders.

Tell me about your experiences of starting all over again...

---

David Perdew is a Writer, Photographer, Consultant and Internet Marketer. You can see all his work at World Wanting Peace or The 60-Day Experiment. And if you're interested in becoming a better parent, check out Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust.

Unfortunately, I'm afraid I see a lot of weeds in my world. But not nearly as many as I used to. . .

It really is perception. We have this discussion at work all the time: Half empty, half-full; forest or the trees; weeds or flowers?

Someone stopped me today to ask if it were difficult to commute to Atlanta from my paradise in nature in North Alabama.

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't difficult. When I leave, I feel like I've left the peace and tranquility of the forest setting behind. I know that when I get to Atlanta, my blood pressure will go up, my shoulders get tight, my heart races a bit.

I get over stimulated I guess.

But the opposite is true too: When I get home, I pull into the long, gravel drive and feel the rush of the city drop from my shoulders. It's much easier to live in peaceful surroundings --  for me.

But not everyone finds peace in the woods.

The thing is: My perception has changed. I hated the commute two years ago. Now, I'm okay with it. Four hours passes quickly because I listen to educational CDs or books-on-tape or "write" with my digital recorder while driving. It's time I'm using well now.

That big ol' weed that I called commuting is a flower now.

Nothing changed. Same road. Same truck. Same me. Different perception. Everything changed.

I remember talking to a colleague before we moved to the woods who was so jazzed on coffee all the time that just being in her presence made me talk faster and act faster.

I told her I was moving to the woods in the middle of nowhere and she cringed. She couldn't imagine it. "I love the city," she said.

What a weirdo, I thought.

Who wouldn't trade peace, tranquility, quiet, solitude, isolation. . .for city dwelling?

Her weeds were different from mine. But they were weeds. She was thinking about how weird I am too, I'm sure. But that's her perception.

---

David Perdew is a Writer, Photographer, Consultant and Internet Marketer. You can see all his work at World Wanting Peace or The 60-Day Experiment. And if you're interested in becoming a better parent, check out Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust.

Sitting next to my son, USAF Staff Sgt. Matthew Perdew, I watched as my youngest son, Seaman Ryan Perdew, marched onto the quarterdeck with his division.

Matt wiped a tear from his eye when he saw his younger brother dressed in white, wearing a sailor's cap, standing at attention in a sea of white uniforms. Ryan was completing his 8-week training at Great Lakes Naval Station north of Chicago to become a real sailor.

The national anthem played and my boys snapped to attention, saluting the flag.

Tears streamed down my face as I was overwhelmed with pride. Grown men, brothers -- my sons, who just a few years ago chased each other with a raggedy soccer ball in the backyard. Now, embarking on the long journey we adults share, they serve their country in wartime.

I served in the Air Force during Viet Nam. My dad was in the Army Air Corps immediately after WWII. Five of his seven brothers served in different branches of the military before and after him. (Two died before they came of age.)

Watching Ryan take his place in formation, snapping to attention, saluting, marching. . .conforming. . .stirred up a lot of familiar feelings in me.

Ryan will tell you that he doesn't do well with authority figures. So watching him conform to the authority figures in charge of his division was a comforting sight.

But I knew a secret. . .

It's an act. He's a smart kid. He'll do what's necessary to maintain, but he'll never stop being Ryan. That's why I'm particularly proud of him. I'd have it no other way.

He's learning how to be himself in the real world -- the great challenge for most of us.

There they are. My two boys in uniform. Brothers in arms. Just like when they were kids. Fighting. Laughing.

Sharing a difficult childhood and unstable parents. Bonding with their older sister and learning to survive.

They remain close, and open their hearts to their mom, dad, and step parents, living proof that it's never too late to build a close family. It's never too late to learn that family means more than anything.

I hope your family is as close as ours and that you, too, can feel the pride that ours felt on a cold, wet day in Chicago.

---

David Perdew is a Writer, Photographer, Consultant and Internet Marketer. You can see all his work at World Wanting Peace or The 60-Day Experiment. And if you're interested in becoming a better parent, check out Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust.

You can be anything you want to be...fireman, astronaut, professional baseball player, cowboy, or President...anything. Because, in America (substitute your country), you can have everything if you work hard for it.

Did someone tell you something similar to that when you were a child?

So, when did it change? When did you decide that you must pick and choose carefully among your options because you really can't have it all?

It's funny (strange, not ha-ha) how the messages of innocence and hope disappear as we grow older. By the time we have children, businesses, and...responsibilities (don't you hate that word!), we're fully aware that we can't have everything.

Everybody says so. Sound wisdom tells us that we must be cautious, frugal and somber in our choices. Responsible...

But when we look at those role models that we admire, they place no such limitations on themselves.

While we're busy making a buck and choosing what we really want and discarding the "unrealistic" aspirations, they're filling their plate with passionate options.

Me? I learned early

Ball player?! Come on...get real!

My passion was becoming a professional baseball player. I was pretty good, but certainly not professional quality. But I still harbored the aspiration until I was 48 and paunchy. Old dreams die hard.

I just couldn't shake the idea that I could have gone pro.

(Yes, I know that's ridiculous, but I played hard until I was 48 in what I called, "old man baseball" with a bunch of ex-college, pros, and people like me - wannabes. I'd still be playing except the cost of gauze to bind my wounds and Ben Gay to soothe my muscles became a budget concern...)

Objectively, I know this is just revisionist history.

When I was 18, I was playing in a semi-pro league. I had a day job, a girlfriend, and no real aspiration. I'd dropped out of (asked to leave, actually) college, and had very little faith in my ability as a player or as anything else.

In my final game though, I pitched against a Major League pitcher's highly-scouted son. And I smoked him. As I walked to the dugout in the last inning (I'd thrown all strikes and held the other team to 1 hit) I heard the Major Leaguer say, "Wow! Who is this guy? Where'd he come from?"

I went home smiling, iced my arm, and folded up my uniform and put it away, never to look at it again. In just a couple of days, I knew I would be on a bus to the Lackland Air Force base for basic training because my girlfriend and I were going to get married...

You can't have it all, right? Marriage and baseball didn't mix.

By then, I'd learned that having it all wasn't a possibility for me. I could have a little, but just enough. And only my share. Even though I wanted it all.

As my friend, Katherine the artist said, I learned to settle for...

For the next 30 years, I settled.

When my wife and I moved to this beautiful Paradise in the woods, we thought we'd gotten something special. And we had. So why did we feel a little regret about leaving the city? And our friends?

To make us feel good about the geographic change, we tried very hard to dislike the city. Yet, every visit to Atlanta rewarded us with the smiling faces of good friends, good food and fun - all the stuff we liked most about Atlanta.

Thursday, two blocks from my rented house, I stopped at The Flying Biscuit - the kind of quirky in-town restaurant that only a big city will support - and picked up a biscuit (with apple butter) and a large coffee. I sat at the counter and watched friendly neighborhood people come and go.

For two years now, I've lived in this part of Atlanta with my good friend and roommate when I'm not flying, or living at home in the woods with my beautiful wife.

This is MY neighborhood too.

And it struck me...

• I've got a great independent worklife with a good contract, flexibility, and interesting and challenging tasks.
• I've got an excellent Internet business that continues to grow and teaches me new things every day.
• I've made really good friends in Atlanta, Seattle and Dallas, as well as all of my new friends online.
• I've got a loving and supportive wife and family.
• And I have the best of both living situations, country and city.

I don't need to dislike one because I have the other.

Truth is...I have it all. Everything I want. I just didn't know what it was until I learned how to look at it.

Having it all seems like such a selfish aspiration. But the willingness to entertain the idea that you can have it all is a gift that I hope I can give to my kids and anyone else who will listen. Now, that I've learned it, I'll take it to the grave with me.

Have it all? Why not! Like they said in the Army a few years ago,

"Be All You Can Be..."

Having it all seems like such a selfish aspiration. But the willingness to entertain the idea that you can is a gift that I want to give my children and anyone else who will listen. It's also a belief that I want to take to the grave with me.

Do you believe you can have it all? Do you even want it - let's hear it?

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David Perdew is a Writer, Photographer, Consultant and Internet Marketer. You can see all his work at World Wanting Peace or The 60-Day Experiment. And if you're interested in becoming a better parent, check out Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust.

A-K-E-E-L-A-H!

I don't get to the movies very often any more, so when I go I want to make sure that I'm not disappointed. We just watched one that left me weeping, cheering and feeling great!

Like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky (Rocky 1 that is), this 11-year old girl struggles with heartache and takes on the spelling world and discovers her biggest fears are inside. But she's good at spelling.

And she can spell. Laurence Fishburne is the man who teaches her to take it up a notch while he fights his own heartache.

This movie is a must see this year. No violence, no sex, nothing but feel good and old fashion good guys. Too often we leave the movies these days trying to figure out who the good guys are. It's easy in this movie. . .they're all good guys and it still delivers.

Once again, a great movie proves that the only demons worth fighting are those within. Enjoy!

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David Perdew is a Writer, Photographer, Consultant and Internet Marketer. You can see all his work at World Wanting Peace or The 60-Day Experiment. And if you're interested in becoming a better parent, check out Bad Dad: 10 Keys to Regaining Trust.