Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Who is Less and what does he have to do with bringing more to your career?

Having barely enough time to accomplish a simple feat isn’t American culture but rather worldwide. Our circles are blessed with open conversations based on the childhood dream “If only.”



If only I could locate the confidence to stop being a jack of all trades and put focus on one thing. If only we could move to a smaller town and worry less about keeping up with the Jones’.



Let’s examine the infamous “If only…” Being a jack of all trades isn’t anything new. Hobbies become job titles everyday. Benjamin Franklyn loved to do everything especially write! He wasn’t a newspaper reporter yet his daily desires to put pen to paper became an avenue for others to locate rhyme and reason in their personal efforts to succeed. Scholars are calling Ben Franklyn the world’s first blogger.



A passion to cook then teach her method of kitchen madness put Colleen on the Fox Broadcasting Networks Hells Kitchen. Although Gordon Ramsey brutally attacked her passion to create, it’s inspired a willingness to continue exploring every option available not only in her life but anyone who flat out loves to bring magic to the table.



Moving to a smaller town seems all too easy until you sit down and do the homework. Coming from Billings, Montana, a town of maybe 100,000…bolting out the back door to tinier gatherings was an expected occurrence. Leaping from Red Lodge to Cody, over the mountain to Sheridan, Casper or Cheyenne back over the mountain to Jackson Hole was a freedom I lost chasing a radio dream. If you try and get back now, it’ll cost you more per capita than it does to live in Hollywood.


It almost happened in 2005 until housing costs in my birth place Sheridan, Wyoming required me to hold down up to five different jobs.



Why? Because as a generation, on any continent, we want more and there’s always someone financially stable to pay more. Which basically means, the ancient idea of “less” is more no longer pertains to our state of being. Until the world banking system shook, gas prices shot up, jobs were lost and the six letter word “career” quickly became a relic at the science museum.



We’re not being asked to live a less is more lifestyle…survival depends on it.



We aren’t the first to face the facts. Depending on what calendar you live by, history has learned its most valuable lessons during times of less. The idea of holding less works in the world of poetic expressions. Take the Haiku…seventeen syllables are required…no more. Anyone can slap happily jot down rhythms that make up their nature but like all things in life, the ugliest weeds usually present the most beautiful flowers.



What makes Haiku work? Writers exercise their right to put trust and faith inside the rank and power of limitations. Everything you do, learn from limitations. Which many of us started to do until last fall when gas prices fell below two bucks…out came the giant SUV’s, Hummers and ear piercing fast lake boats and zoom zoom we were back to being normal!



Reality is like a parent who doesn’t understand your needs to constantly be with friends. Just when you’ve located enough space to spike up a weekend stay, along comes the bite that sends your Chutes and Ladder piece back to the beginning.



Spring has sprung and so have gas prices and the unemployment rate. It’s gotten so bad food pick up points have been set up across the Carolinas so pets don’t go hungry. Here we go again, back to the chapters labeled: Less is more.



But how?



Author Leo Babauta firmly strikes a chord when laying his fingers on the idea of choosing the essentials. Put effort in creating a greater impact with minimal resources. In his book The Power of Less, the Art of Limiting Yourself…Lou easily drops enough bread crumbs on a trail for you to better understand the importance of maximizing your time and energy in ways of learning to choose the essentials.



Employees are expected to multitask. But in what area of your job do you have the most impact? General Managers love hard working individuals who show up everyday to gain access to high levels of success but fall short of calling it their best team because those working haven’t located their greatest impact. The worker bee syndrome doesn’t payoff unless every black and yellow buzzer comes back to the office with enough pollen to make a larger supply of honey.



Without knowledge of impact, we bump into what Andrea Kaye describes as being the cause and effect of a slumping business world. Nobody comes to work expecting to have a bad day. Nobody enjoys labeling it as such. Cause is created by misunderstandings or lack of knowledge on how to better perform. One sip of the bad mood juice creates an effect that shoots through the office quicker than flu season. Have you ever walked through an office beat up badly by their self created bad attitude? Bring a knife, this jungle is thick!



Freshen up the air by staring in the mirror. If your cause can effect…then infect by injecting a better presentation. Don’t fake it to make it! Examine your personal tasks; locate the items you need to generate long term impact. Come clean with your goals, you aren’t going to be branded a walking ego if you let others see what you’d like to accomplish. Set three goals and with each passing day make it a point to get one step closer to each.



Learning to identify your places of impact will open avenues that feed “If only…” If only you would’ve learned this trick in your twenties. Not just anybody wins Yard of the Month. It’s a journey that requires preparation. The one thing most of us forgot to do at birth was read the owners manual. Inside those pages it clearly states…forever student.



Steal my art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Monday, March 30, 2009

The man connected to your bottom line should be more famous than Will Smith

Remember when the dirt covered rust bucket pulled up to a family restaurant or neighborhood gathering…the very sight of the sign sent tingles through you like Christmas in July! Hair still wet from moms saliva spat onto a comb stuffed into her purse, each child showered their area of the car with so much excitement rainbows could be spotted for miles only to be suddenly silenced when the parental figures drove the silver YOU BETTER BE GOOD stake through your heart?



Mom’s most overused line, “You better watch your P’s and Q’s!”



Mentally, I’d paint a giant P and Q on each hand…whatever it took to symbolize any attempt at listening to their stern words or face the wrath of the south side of a body part moving north.



It could be just me but being so mean seemed so wrong. Every kid in the joint was either getting knocked off their chair or sent to the car without dessert…making matters worse were the beyond perfect sister figures decked out in Sunday like dresses and candy like barrettes in their hair.



“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” Dad would always question.



Kids don’t know the rules. You can scream, play lets pretend or softly talk like a poet who's just downed three Red Bulls and in the end, kids are going to be loud, goofy and mess the joint up, sliding your many years of presence in the community right into a world of embarrassment.



Going to work is no different. It doesn’t matter what your job is or where you’d like to one day be…there’s always going to be someone or something that’s going to fold back your ears like a wild dog searching for raw meat to sink its teeth into.



Introductions kill people!



Someone you know or think you know has shown up unannounced in the lobby and no matter how hard you try…their name as well as where you met has completely been dumped from your memory bank…what do you?



If your dad was here, he’d knock you upside the head…that’s how they rebooted the human computer before Bill Gates. The head shot or the old swift lift in the shorts brought on by the fathers out of control foot.



The dude, if properly trained could have shown us how to extend our hands and simply say, “Hello my name is Arroe Collins.” Studies show 90% of those waiting in the lobby will mimic your first move. If you’re stuck in a lapse of time, trying to decide if you should feel guilty or famous, they become your mirrored image.



If bad luck continues to land on your side of the picket fence, don’t let them see you sweat…continue to be extremely friendly and invite them into the area you first met, “So, what have you been up to since the last time we spoke?” Using general questions triggers the 10% still locked in identity silence and or too lazy to catch on to the name game.



By making yourself the action figure creates results. It shows the visitor that your time together is valuable and getting to the point allows you to have better space to grow. Stop being a TMI (too much information) or a business downer stuck on any reason available as to why you’re having a difficult time remembering their name.



If the first two steps putt your golf ball into the sand…then be the first to break out a Tiger Wood’s 9 Iron and flat out say, “I have forgotten your name, how do we know each other?”



That’s the kind of business leadership that can be played in any walk of life…from baseball and soccer fields with the kids to pumping the weights or kicking high in aerobics class. It’s not a written rule that you remember everyone, but be the first one during uncomfortable situations to say, “Hello my name is…I believe we’ve met before.”



During these deeply dug trenches of change on American soil, the average person is being tossed into meetings, greetings and interviews that steal every ounce of air from your lungs while leaving your feet dangling for a ground to walk on.



When you appear in an office to be interviewed or to sell an item your company is trying to push…another greeting that invites thundershowers on a sun filled day…when someone says, “It’s nice to meet you.” Um…is it? What are you seeing that I’m not? Trust me, if it truly is nice to meet me, why hasn’t the daddy dude used such speeches with me?



The golden rule: It’s not about your daddy and it’s completely 100% not about you. Accept their greeting because it makes them feel comfortable inside unfamiliar surroundings.



Learning to handle the unknown makes you a tremendous leader inside a world addicted to machines that require only your thumbs to type out words.



Steal my art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Friday, March 27, 2009

Prepare for constant change or get out of the game....

http://www.youtube.com/v/HRfGb1a3Z6k&hl=en&fs=1


“Dare to be great!”

Andrew Ashwood

American Broadcaster



In the past twelve hours the reality of the chapters we write has hit me harder than a Little League pitcher’s first day on the mound. Hands shaking, eyes darting from first to third base, uniform still muddied from last weeks attempt in left field, the presented determination is to spend the entire day forcing the batter to dodge shots meant for the head and shoulders only to learn the untrained wild toss from an unexpected passion to change the game whaps the player in the heart in ways that silences the artist’s secret hiding place.



Countless times I’ve pitched the Andrew Ashwood ball…talking highly of an extremely dedicated radio disc jockey blessed with every opportunity to fade into place modern ways of conducting conversation. Those who created with him or competed against him speak the same the same language…it usually starts off with a child’s just got caught smile with an addictive giggle waiting impatiently to bust from the seams sewn by the gentle giants passion to never stop digging into a talents planet to locate the reason for their being.



Great mentors are paid invisible cash…they bring injury in ways that anger their followers, ripping dreams to shreds while feverishly shoving round sticks into square holes in the way of rebuilding separate shacks that house stronger futures fed by rivers of quality versus quantity…a constant grind on a single slab of granite begging not to be remembered but affective.



Losing a leader of this magnitude last December affects not a sliver of the pie but all too often a generation or three he’ll never meet. For those left giggling about his Dan Haggerty gentleness and Clint Eastwood slanted eyes barely middle aged toughness remember their one-on-one times and how his impeccable vision to teach people to deal with constant change influenced a noticeable difference.



He foresaw therefore he taught…



Tapping his name into the blank space on You Tube, you’re quickly introduced to the other radio family members he picked up because of a radio station sale, bad deal or someone he met at a morning show boot camp in search of Simon Cowell before his time…a performer who carved without ever throwing anyone to the side. His confidence reeked but always for the best. His daily demands to research barely spoken words that shot into his thick skull while driving to work educated the average radio guy in ways of introducing them to newer ways to communicate with and not to the radio listener who just happened to land on your station for a favorite song or because the knob broke off and fell to the floor and they couldn’t pick up fast enough to change the dial again.



Seeing the video for the first time brought reality to a rumor…he’s gone.



Reliving the news came on the day The Children’s Miracle Network shared with me their highest International Award for radio station presentation. It’s as if Andrew had somehow been standing with me the entire way and without notice seeing the You Tube presentation was his continued mentoring way of saying, “What’s in it for the listener? If you can’t find anything to share that affects that person’s life…don’t waste their time, they already have too much to do and then you want to add your self loved vocals to their congested day. Give me a break!”



This award belongs to you Andrew…



Thank you for sharing with me your vision of constantly expecting change and having the courage to sit down with me in your office on Radio Road and say, “I see something better than being a disc jockey in you. You are my new production person. I have no clue what goes on in there but you better figure it out fast or you’re not going to be on the Andrew Team. And once you locate the answer I better not catch you slipping back on the radio as a jock until you’ve learned how to teach it. That’s your new job if you want to work with me. Now figure it out and make it work.”



“Phenomenal!”



Andrew’s second most famous quote…if you earned one of these, it was better than getting Employee of the Year and a Grammy. The only way you earn it, live it breathe it? You had to, "Dare to be great."



Steal his art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Lungs were created in the way of being studied...

Farmers cultivate their large empty fields to gain access to energies that create unforgettable crops. Businesses, big or small cultivate talent, clearing the way for the cream to rise to the top. Dictionary.com describes the word cultivate as being a reason to promote or improve growth; to develop by education…to devote.

One of the most beautiful flowers on earth is something that comes with no petals or leaves but invisibly you see each as they lay next to the extended rays of a morning sunrise. This flower can be watched from a distance in ways of inspiration and influence while suddenly being noticed dancing with arms flying and legs bouncing inside fog covered forests whose trees are tightly wrapped by poison ivy vines begging for a human to walk by.

Something so grand, so exhilarating, brilliant to touch, to follow, to embrace…yet you rarely hear of something so simple…a peace farmer’s dream to cultivate.

Peace…

If they could, Home Depot and Lowes would probably sell packages of peace…but such an item is extremely difficult to grow. And if it could be planted into which wind would it be thrown?

Peace is often confused with piece…it must be true because only pieces of our lives truly have blossomed in depths of peace.

Cultivating peace isn’t a self guided direction that screams, “End all violence!” It is an understanding, insight and or compassion combined with action. An agreement with a challenged, overworked, completely filled with fear self that simply states: awareness of thought.

Mindfulness….

Cultivating peace requires nothing more than generating a positive affect on the circles we keep….friends, family, coworkers and society.

Mindfulness is allowing your true self to become aware of each moment. Rather than fog up the mirror with shame and pain brought on by another person's view of your hard work and dedication or lack thereof…mindfully understanding puts blooms on flowers of peace.

Mindfulness is an art. Not as in canvas, writing songs, knitting, cooking or wearing weird clothes that catch people’s eyes… The art is given life by means of practice. When working out at the gym or sitting in the car at a red light, allow your mind to feel the air as it moves through your lungs. Learn to capture the essence of warmth running through your fingers while washing dishes. Instead of rushing from the parking lot to quickly inside to the job that drives you insane…pay close attention to what I call nature’s jazz singers, cardinals, sparrows, distant crows and blue jays.

Allow the wind to talk to you.

Grand Master Jung has chosen to visit a single limb from his family tree. A Korean man of 78, no taller than five feet four inches, his glasses much bigger than him…his art could easily be assumed; Tae Kwon Do. Not so…the love he has for his wife. He finds incredible amounts of peace being with her, smiling with her, softly talking to her about the personal growth of each student who stops to bow in honor of the five martial arts generations he created.

Without his peace…all that was given to him through masters and grand masters dating to 504 BC would’ve slipped from his engaging handshake to nestle next to a snail only inches from being crushed by an uncaring human.

No person goes unnoticed.

At 78 most believe they’ve paid their dues, run the race, shattered their backs and determination on a job that didn’t pay off which has earned them the right to be looked upon as elder. Grand Master Jung wastes no time approaching you, his hand shot out of a cannon of compassion, his eyes locked onto the keys that open the windows to your soul, in his own Korean way his greeting energizes your ambition totally destroying anything that would’ve kept you away.

Why? Peace…fed into the inter-being that will soon come face to face with people you know, never met, would like to meet but never forget.

Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “All life is interrelated. We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied into a single garment of destiny.”

Cultivating peace requires no dollar amount from bank accounts, only seeds of compassion, nonviolence, inclusiveness and reconciliation. Each acts as a path that will show you a way out of fear and conflict. Hatred can’t be stopped by hatred. Violence shouldn’t be responded to with violence.

The culture shock of locating two sisters I’ve never met had nothing to do with where each of our paths have traveled and why time brought us so close yet we were never given sight to recognize…the most difficult part of the chapter now written is trying to understand why they loved the father figure so much and we hated him?

Cultivating peace will allow the assumed silence to serve as a field for the future to grow. I will not challenge for each experience is different and through compassion, nonviolence, inclusiveness and reconciliation…the next generation will be three steps closer toward a destiny we now control.

Peace….

arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Is a butterfly something that flies or something you spread on bread?

A single thought carries with it a message of many meanings. What’s written in good faith can easily be construed as reckless driving…ripping down foundations of trust while sinking a large ship in a puddle of whack-it-tee whack whack faith gone wild.



The energy one pushes through a writing instrument and or computer keyboard has ways of taking left turns at railroad tracks that were never laid and by measures not always in one’s control the page put on display resembles a rooftop or patio set not originally purchased. When not received in the way intended, levels of emotion are raised and often times erase whatever relationship existed.



We are the generation blessed with the most visible and physical ways to carry out the art of communications. From office and personal emails, to Face Book, My Space, Twitter and quickly becoming old fashioned cell phone texting…the concept of bridging gaps seems to be fueling a fire between the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s.



Singer/songwriter John Mayer’s relationship with actress Jennifer Aniston was shattered due to his addiction to Twitter. He spent more time communicating with a world he barely knew then getting to know the one woman millions of us would like to know.



Openly admitting that I am an artist means nothing to those who aren’t an artist. To say I am an artist means I am open for abuse. When your writing and paintings go on display, basically you’ve opened your soul to ridicule and rejection. It doesn’t mean I instantly go numb when receiving another person’s view…being an artist represents nothing more than saying, “I have the guts to take what’s been hidden and give it to the world.”



Who taught me that? Peter Max, Paul Stanley of Kiss and Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane who’ve taken their artistic canvas presentations and put them in places that allow passerby’s to point, make faces and or grunt like a wild beast un-creatively out of control. Does it bother them? On the outside, the shells they carry are rough, rugged and can’t be torn. Inside, one would hope they never become hard because art is constantly fed by an invisible compassion not seen by the norm until one day a framed presentation screams at them so loud it becomes a permanent fixture on their wall.



A single sentence can become another person’s entire paragraph. The visitor wastes no time exposing their opinion…never realizing their method of receiving the message could in fact be a reflection of their own emotions in the mirror.



Poet’s write very little knowing less is more. It is the one shape of communication that’s constantly eaten up then spit out in junior high school classes to writer’s circles worldwide. Yet…let it be known, thanks to poetry and or limericks, it has the strength to end bloody several decade old wars.



Songwriters repeat the chorus in ways of making sure you heard it a second and or third time, sadly, once inside…all too often we’ve heard the wrong words, replacing it instead with something we assume, so we spend the rest of our lives singing the wrong song until a Karaoke machine slams us back into place.



Honestly…who thought Relax from Frankie Goes to Hollywood was about what it’s truly all about? It’s one of those American Top 40 moments Grandfather Casey Kasum should’ve shared with us but we had to wait until VH-1’s Behind the Music corrected our musical vision. Suddenly, fewer people are singing along.



My first works of poetry published inside the warmth of hard covers came under firm attack from publishers wanting titles. Calmly writing back to them in ways to better explain that titles are judged, therefore my works would remain as such…they vividly painted a signed letter exclaiming, “Find someone else.” Once bent in the ways of those who front the bucks to make it work…titles were created so my ego could see its face in a book at the store. Three books later…it became boring so I stopped…opening the door for my next book One Man’s 1,021 Thoughts filled with over one thousand titles.



Mom always warned, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Titles of chapters, web pages, or messages printed on the bottom of your email leave the door wide open for what artists see daily…that single chance for a passerby to pick their nose and rub it on the corner so nobody purchases it.



Rather than call it a Bucket List…why not just do it? There’s no need to apologize for the things you didn’t accomplish… It’s not a Christmas or gift list…calling it serves as nothing more than a reminder of how you might not have lived up to someone else’s expectations. I’m not a fan of birthday, get well or anniversary cards because how you feel when purchasing it has nothing to do with how the person feels receiving it.



At this point in the conversation it’s only natural to think, “Whoa Arroe must be picking a fight with someone who was nasty.” Not so…I’m only relating with 99% of a world begging to be disconnected from communicating because none of us really have anything to say.



Steal my art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Is a butterfly something that flies or something you spread on bread?

Is a butterfly something that flies or is it something we spread over bread?
Wednesday 03-25-2009 9:50am ET
A single thought carries with it a message of many meanings. What’s written in good faith can easily be construed as reckless driving…ripping down foundations of trust while sinking a large ship in a puddle of whack-it-tee whack whack faith gone wild.



The energy one pushes through a writing instrument and or computer keyboard has ways of taking left turns at railroad tracks that were never laid and by measures not always in one’s control the page put on display resembles a rooftop or patio set not originally purchased. When not received in the way intended, levels of emotion are raised and often times erase whatever relationship existed.



We are the generation blessed with the most visible and physical ways to carry out the art of communications. From office and personal emails, to Face Book, My Space, Twitter and quickly becoming old fashioned cell phone texting…the concept of bridging gaps seems to be fueling a fire between the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s.



Singer/songwriter John Mayer’s relationship with actress Jennifer Aniston was shattered due to his addiction to Twitter. He spent more time communicating with a world he barely knew then getting to know the one woman millions of us would like to know.



Openly admitting that I am an artist means nothing to those who aren’t an artist. To say I am an artist means I am open for abuse. When your writing and paintings go on display, basically you’ve opened your soul to ridicule and rejection. It doesn’t mean I instantly go numb when receiving another person’s view…being an artist represents nothing more than saying, “I have the guts to take what’s been hidden and give it to the world.”



Who taught me that? Peter Max, Paul Stanley of Kiss and Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane who’ve taken their artistic canvas presentations and put them in places that allow passerby’s to point, make faces and or grunt like a wild beast un-creatively out of control. Does it bother them? On the outside, the shells they carry are rough, rugged and can’t be torn. Inside, one would hope they never become hard because art is constantly fed by an invisible compassion not seen by the norm until one day a framed presentation screams at them so loud it becomes a permanent fixture on their wall.



A single sentence can become another person’s entire paragraph. The visitor wastes no time exposing their opinion…never realizing their method of receiving the message could in fact be a reflection of their own emotions in the mirror.



Poet’s write very little knowing less is more. It is the one shape of communication that’s constantly eaten up then spit out in junior high school classes to writer’s circles worldwide. Yet…let it be known, thanks to poetry and or limericks, it has the strength to end bloody several decade old wars.



Songwriters repeat the chorus in ways of making sure you heard it a second and or third time, sadly, once inside…all too often we’ve heard the wrong words, replacing it instead with something we assume, so we spend the rest of our lives singing the wrong song until a Karaoke machine slams us back into place.



Honestly…who thought Relax from Frankie Goes to Hollywood was about what it’s truly all about? It’s one of those American Top 40 moments Grandfather Casey Kasum should’ve shared with us but we had to wait until VH-1’s Behind the Music corrected our musical vision. Suddenly, fewer people are singing along.



My first works of poetry published inside the warmth of hard covers came under firm attack from publishers wanting titles. Calmly writing back to them in ways to better explain that titles are judged, therefore my works would remain as such…they vividly painted a signed letter exclaiming, “Find someone else.” Once bent in the ways of those who front the bucks to make it work…titles were created so my ego could see its face in a book at the store. Three books later…it became boring so I stopped…opening the door for my next book One Man’s 1,021 Thoughts filled with over one thousand titles.



Mom always warned, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Titles of chapters, web pages, or messages printed on the bottom of your email leave the door wide open for what artists see daily…that single chance for a passerby to pick their nose and rub it on the corner so nobody purchases it.



Rather than call it a Bucket List…why not just do it? There’s no need to apologize for the things you didn’t accomplish… It’s not a Christmas or gift list…calling it serves as nothing more than a reminder of how you might not have lived up to someone else’s expectations. I’m not a fan of birthday, get well or anniversary cards because how you feel when purchasing it has nothing to do with how the person feels receiving it.



At this point in the conversation it’s only natural to think, “Whoa Arroe must be picking a fight with someone who was nasty.” Not so…I’m only relating with 99% of a world begging to be disconnected from communicating because none of us really have anything to say.



Steal my art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

If a duck barked and a cat quacked....would it be just another act?

Having….it. You know….it! That little bit of “it” that becomes “Thee thing.” Not just anything, being hotter than hot like the Jonas Brothers is a cool fad but having “it” is something special like Miley Cyrus who lately has been losing her “it” while Taylor Swift seems to be gaining...it.



People naturally think they have…it. Who better to uncover…it…than television?



While Paula Abdul fumbles her way through clothing compliments on American Idol, Simon Cowell scrapes the inner soul of each being as if to be wading in the wonders of undiscovered “it.” They’ve only been right twice; Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood. Taylor Hicks doesn’t have….it. Neither do Jordon Sparks and David Cook. You can release songs all day but that doesn’t guarantee you…“it.”



So You Think You Can Dance, Dancing with the Stars, America’s Got Talent, Hells Kitchen, Donald Trump’s Celebrity Apprentice as well as Star Search and the 1970’s summer long dance contests on American Bandstand…peel away the layers of the banana and it’s nothing more than Hollywood…it…ambition.



Having “it” wasn’t born in the USA. The Beatles and Rolling Stones continue to have…it. Australian actors Mel Gibson and Hugh Jackman have….it. The President of the United States has been accused of having…it.



But what is…it?



What’s made Heath Ledger, Curt Cobain, Marilyn Monroe, Princess Diana, Elvis Presley, Mother Teresa, Pope John Paul and The Marx Brothers the captains of the…it…ship?



Locating the…it…on a path of millions of unemployed could land you better opportunities inside an extremely tight Corporate America and/or in a field of choice but with firmer legs to stand on. Putting wit with you…it…could fit but what if having…it…keeps you from getting…it?



Alec Baldwin is a brilliant actor…he doesn’t need to be…it…because Tina Fey is currently the big…it…since Mary Tyler Moore? For you to evolve into a better player on a field of oversaturated resumes are you willing to taking the padding out of your path in the name of being served whatever success is available?



Outside the world of fame and fancy limousines exists a world required to press to the flesh daily…be it at a mall store, family restaurant or a tax accountant lost somewhere in Illinois, it’s a constant grind to personally locate the proper ingredients connected to having a common job…it.



The idea of learning how to communicate your ideas in a skillful manner so others listen is lost somewhere in a book you purchased ten years ago. As for becoming memorable in the thought process of others…it’s ten times easier to catch Oprah or Dr. Phil whose special guests put focus on getting an inch of attention from someone you love. What about specific tactics to keep someone’s attention and communication tools that keep your message positive? Whoa…stop right there, thirty years in the broadcast industry and conveying a positive message is the number one reason why people kick me out of their backyard whiffle ball games and keep me from petting their dog.



Being positive creates one mindset: I’m not in the mood for you. So what are you going to do?



Most motivational speakers don’t have…it. They want…it! But don’t get…it…not until you attain your full right to…it. Your success allows them the opportunity to attach their name to…it. Job head hunters, acting and dancing coaches, managers and agents are guilty of the not so…it…crime.



Colonel Tom Parker is the most famous…it…robber in the world. He claims to have created Elvis Presley. Baseball legend Ted Williams’ son wanted his father’s legacy to live on so he collected DNA to which he would one day sell. American car companies have spent billions of dollars creating decades of…it….only to learn in 2009 there aren’t too many of us who want it.



Artnet is willing to admit having…it…is nothing more than mojo. It doesn’t have to be people connected just something spectacular like a new museum, a flower, a colorful blouse or magazine. A simple sketch on a napkin can create so much…it…the world might in fact race to the location to see…it…for themselves.



Research shows the greatest Rock n Roll song of all time is Satisfaction from The Rolling Stones...did…it… make the band or did the bands…it…make the song? Another good example is Beyonces’ late winter success titled Single Ladies…easily one of the most contagious songs to hit radio airwaves in decades. The current edition of Rollingstone Magazine praises not Beyonce for that vibration that enters our skulls doing nothing more than singing all day but rather the writer. Three paragraphs deep into the story, not a radio or VH-1 nearby, my inner child hasn’t stopped performing Single Ladies the entire morning.



Who gets credit for having the…it…in this hit?



What is…it? What would you do if you had…it? The good news about…it…is that it’s everywhere! Betsy Ross sewed her first flag at the age of twenty…her most famous work wasn’t delivered through her fingertips until 1777. She didn’t sign autographs or leap on trains to cities begging to touch her. She didn’t appear on 60 Minutes with Dan Rather or answer questions from Phil Donahue. I do wonder how she would’ve faired on Celebrity Apprentice…a girl under so much pressure to create a representation of not one year but hundreds…sounds like her…it…was perfectly wired…therefore, Donald couldn’t have said, “You’re fired.”



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Monday, March 23, 2009

Jeff Gordon Rocks!!! But you don't have to drive that fast to win....

Mathew Warshauer is a professor of history at Central Connecticut State University…he may have caught some college tournament hoops over the weekend, tossed his time into checking out the President on 60 Minutes or programmed his DVR or Tivo to record Donald Trump’s Celebrity Apprentice…



His true strength falls under the label of People Watcher. He is best known to the business world as being the voice that stood up and said, “American’s believe their job is an entitlement and should be something you work toward.”



So is Calvin Trillin who authored the book Travels with Alice, in it, he paints the picture of these modern trails as being nothing more than a group of American’s driving across the country as if someone is chasing them.



Stop!



Being one who puts no faith in turning around to see where you’ve been…consider this a lesson in the way of being truthful to what you accomplished this past weekend? Two days, 48 hours, the sun came up and went back down, as did the moon and during those in between hours of acting like a sliver of pie cut so thin nobody in the family, not even the dog wanted to stick a fork in it. It quckly learned hardly, if anybody wants to waste time on something your taste buds would instantly forget?



Seriously…what did you do? What did you say? I can’t count on one hand the number of times I stood with store mangers challenging them to lift their game. It wasn’t me complaining! Giant box stores and restaurants mope and moan daily about the smaller number of people visiting their businesses yet if they stopped…to people watch…newer paths to a more careful consumer would be unveiled.



Yesterday morning…barely three musical bars past ten…the church crowd not yet set free…the completely caged in hardware store elected to open only one entrance…completely blocked like a typical five o’clock rush to the beach or mountains…customers who hadn’t been inside to finally convince their inner voice to break the bank and make the purchase saw no way to get past the already sold souls.

I became the squeaky wheel calmly asking, “If you want me to drive across the street to the competition I totally understand.”



A thin as the moons curved edges, the manager’s taste buds quickly noticed a growing taste and realized a second entrance was required and took no time to open it and physically decided to walk with me then put the organic dirt in the car. Wow! Talk about a fourth quarter six seconds on the clock come back!



American’s drive across the country as if someone is chasing them. Such behavior sets us up for failure.



New studies released by the Journal of Occupations and Environmental Medicine exposes a fatigued working condition. $136 billion are spent each year in health related productivity. That’s $101 billion more than non-fatigued conditions.



Wait! Fatigue is like depression…it’s the “Just get over it,” disease without physically dedicating enough time of your life into better understanding it. Fatigue is the one thing bosses don’t understand…the bottom line is this: Do it…or I’ll find someone to do it.



But what is true fatigue?



Weepiness, tiredness, reduced alertness, lack of concentration and memory, lack of motivation, increased susceptibility to illness, depression, headaches, giddiness, loss of appetite and digestive problems. Now toss in someone of power commanding you to, “get over it.”



Author Andrea Kaye calls this working environment The Rush to do Whatever Addiction. The cold hard facts that are often ignored but consistently remain, hardly, if anybody but a spiritually connected Monk possesses a firm sense of enough.



In 2007 the NY Times penned out an article based on the increasing number of new millionaires who feel nothing. They are numb to their wealth. Partly because having $2 million sitting in the bank today is nothing compared to the $48 billion Bill Gates is connected to. The only choice, locate more time to work…too often reaching deep into what’s become a normal sixty to eighty hour work week.



The health care system is screaming for doctors inside the ranks of family practice…but because it pays an idiotic $161,000 a year…students have put more faith in the stock market or anything connected to technology. Before this current financial crisis, it was the key to enjoying a peaceful retirement before thirty. In essence, they were driving across the country as if someone is chasing them.



I sit with newly educated broadcasters everyday…spending hundreds if not thousands of hours yearly traveling between schools and universities for no reason other than to fulfill my mentor Andrew Ashwood’s dream of never taking your eye off tomorrow by demanding to educate those involved today. Of the multitudes of dreams I’ve been introduced to maybe two of them have succeeded inside a career that demands more than what another Program Director described as being the next best thing to working at Taco Bell.



Why are the failure numbers so high? American’s drive across the country as if someone is chasing them. It’s natural to lose faith in a career if all you hit are brick walls. I blame this rambunctious approach on American Idol who turns former restaurant waitresses and cow farmers into overnight sensations. Those who’ve bellied up to the bad times and devoured life’s dirtiest highways don’t have television ratings to deal with, so getting on the radio or MTV is what puts wrinkles on your passion of performance because once they appear on your forehead…you’re sent straight to Grandma’s Ipod.



No wonder American’s act like they’re driving across the country as if someone is chasing them. If we don’t make it now…it’s over!



Gene Simmons of KISS is convinced that there’s no limit to the amount of money that can be made. Gary Kremen the founder of Match.com demands that he puts in more than 80 hours a week because there’s no particular number that guarantees him an insured future. Sleepless nights are the norm and in the process of educating tomorrow’s leaders, the message to them is falling short of deafness. They don’t get it, don’t want to get it and refuse to believe in the AC/DC song It’s a long way to the top if you want to Rock N Roll.” Instead, as my current student Curtis who drives two in a half hours to sit with me each day says, “All they hear is Hells Bells.”



In the 1960’s my Grandpa Bakken led a team of construction workers through a mountain…literally! Thanks to his endless efforts of commanding quality from those who elected to team with him…the infamous Bozeman tunnel connects the eastern part of the United States with the west coast.



Do those employees still exist? Was Andrew Ashwood onto something when he called me to his large office and calmly said, “You have a new job…even after I no longer work at this incredible radio station…I am demanding that you teach tomorrows broadcasters today.”



There were six of us on his team…how many of them are willing to open a gate for a potential client then hang with them until its time to load the product in the car?



A footnote: I may have come across as an a** in the first steps of the day…but never once did I feel as if I'd be forced to eat crow...or did I? Like most men, I didn't get enough products, so I returned to the store some eight hours later…only to stand proud of the store who now had three gates open and all those cold lonely trees and shrubs were headed to a more peaceful place to spread their wings.


You can spend millions if not billions on researching why the economy is stealing from your bottom line or you can take ten minutes of free time and people watch. The answer to your success tomorrow sits in your everday.


Steal my art…


arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Friday, March 20, 2009

Queens Lace was once thought to be the most beautiful weed...

The first official weekend of spring! Lawnmowers will sound off like Carrie Underwood singing the national anthem. Trenches will be dug in ways to move water through your flower garden, freshly purchased trees and shrubs will locate newer soil to spread their wings, the sound of children hollering will flood the distant horizon while rivers of catsup are poured onto burgers, dogs and fries.

Spring represents rebirth. Not just a second chance but for some annuals it’s their fifteenth season with higher hopes of reaching farther than the fat rock that got in the way fifty two weeks ago. Box turtles hidden away for months eagerly grasp at the chance of basking in a full day of sun. There’s always a couple of mallards to each single duck, lonely are those who guaranteed their mate the future only to learn their section of the roster didn’t make it through what we call winter.

Inner city forests bloom with bright white, pink and red flowers sending human stick figures toward drug stores in search of antihistamines and other means that’ll help erase the liquid flowing freely from a nose once assumed our buddy. Thick ear piercing headaches will rock the fun straight off its feet while moods will swing and tempers take up flying.

Car windows rolled down, the constant thump of today’s hottest song pushing beyond the bouncing rearview mirror shaking all that has suddenly become its path of demonstration. Consumed liquids, potato chip, leafy green salad and pizza, every shape, size and flavor fall victim to newer ways of marketing guaranteeing consumers our methods this season have never been better.

The eager human will play while some choose to rest; a few are expected to redesign their professional landscape with high hopes of protecting a future no longer connected to a decision maker’s cash advance or corporate bonus.

Like all other creatures given life, those who stand big, tall or small, round, flat or hairy, shove food in their mouth, cheer loudly, purchase larger than life HDTVs and drive gas guzzling SUVs are braving the odds of escaping what the news media failed to call the Business Blizzard of 08, where nearly everything stopped, wobbled like a Weeble but didn’t fall down.

Rebirth…

I’ve seen CSI…no man nor woman can stuff their body plus a million dollars into a shiny new fresh from the forest coffin nor does worldly, locally or family fame come with weight. Thank goodness! I’ve been a pallbearer a few times this life and the breathless body within turns any assumed pair of strong legs into melted ice.

Staring into a world you’ve never been able to control, cars look just as they did ten years ago, George Jetson and his dog Astro aren’t zooming between office buildings on stilts and anything Star Trek is nothing more than a religious experience. The only thing different is a dirty, nasty un-Hollywood like banking crisis connected to joblessness, home loss, starving pets, and congressional leaders creatively coming up with questions that are delivered like an old time preacher in a tent all in the name of being featured on the 5 o’clock news resembling that of hockey pucks and basketball dunks on ESPN and Sports South.

Does a tree look at another during the chilly days of winter and softly whisper, “I can’t do it anymore?” Does a rose bush secretly discuss topics beneath the surface of the soil that would injure the rooting system of an always green ivy vine? When the crows speak loudly on days you want nothing to be made, do you ever hear them shout, “Humans are losers?” The bright red male Cardinal with its chirp so quick and vibrant, its mate not looking anything like a magazine cover or the inside sleeve of a Sunday paper…do you think he bumps her in mid flight and says, “Um babe…what’s with the lengthy tail feather?”

Spring has arrived in downtown Carolina.

Backyard decks blessed with heavenly scents will attempt to erase the visibly homeless, starving and constantly begging mosquitoes. Flies will out run Grandma’s sure fire swatter while hornets and wasps search for uncaring always-off-the-beaten-path humans to sting. Giant red ants singing, “Hi Ho, Hi Ho,” search for Japanese beatles freshly fallen from the sky and tadpoles evolve into something called a frog…forcing painters, poets, songwriters and deep thinkers to wonder, “Hmmm what could I be if only…”

You can’t suddenly wish the national trip, stumble and fall away. You aren’t going to wake up tomorrow and poof everything is mighty fine. Walt Disney was onto something when he allowed extremely evil things take place in every picture he brought to life. It was a reminder…we aren’t perfect, not even a shy deer named Bambi. We gain, we lose, we laugh, we cry, we build only to rip apart and there’s no guarantee in the event commonly called a happy ending.

Ninety percent of us have no clue why we’re here and that’s ok. What’s sad is the other ten percent is allowed to shape your path. From bad television shows to computer companies locked onto American culture…we’ve become addicted to their future and when that doesn’t work, we’re expected to pay the price.

Springtime in Carolina…an invitation to grow….the opportunity to regenerate the energy in everything you’ve buried and give it life. So what if you didn’t make it the top floor at the bank, restaurant or mall store! No matter how bad the snow, cold, thunder, floods and or drought…the ivy vine keeps growing.

Put some fresh potting soil around your ankles, prune the dead leaves from your limbs, softly whisper the very prayer your mother's mother once shared and allow your dreams to grow. You can do it! You will do it! And like a tree pushed to its side in a world where man decides if it should live or die, you will reach outward and upward screaming, “I’m not finished yet! This is my new dance called ART”

Steal mine….

arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Thursday, March 19, 2009

No wonder a baked potato has so many eyes....

Gandhi once said, “An eye for an eye will make the world go blind.”



A single thought delivered by a man who faced amplitudes of personal challenges yet it never halted a willingness to reach outward toward a community seeking leadership. To wade through the waters of each unpredictable storm gifted his constant compassion with enough impact to push such profound visions beyond a thousand years.



To step from beneath the barriers that which kept him from the wraps of being normal, sharing, “An eye for an eye will make the world go blind,” seemed almost as if he was moving against a system already ancient in years thick.



Like the multicolored strings unevenly sewn into the canvas of a great pair of tennis shoes, so is the origin of the statement: An eye for an eye. From childhood to ageless Baby Boomer…parents, school principals, religious leaders and friends crowned our kingdoms with permission to take what’s been taken…an eye for an eye.



That’s like the military saying, “We are at war in the name of creating peace.” War is war and through each unheard chapter the rivers that bleed put innocent bystanders face to face in worlds of fear that may or may not feed a need to locate any method of survival.



Buddhist Monk Thick Nhat Hahn firmly remembers his darkest test, assumed beautiful was the morning, quickly becoming interrupted by two French soldiers physically and verbally starving. Being from separate longitude and latitudes, language presented a brick wall forcing one of the soldiers to come across severely unrested, uncaring and not in favor of holding open a peace filled palm. He had a job to do…locate food. Being spiritually connected to the small village now invaded Thick Nhat Hahn vowed to the loyalties that which made up his commitment…feed the hurting women and children.



An eye for an eye might have proven to be what most would agree is the answer in situations where the mountains are so tall the sky leaps from the painting.



Let’s modernize the situation…six paragraphs deep into the congressional hearings, a wall of wonder breathes like a fire ant carrying a boxed lunch stacked with questions so thick it would take six straws to suck the ice cream through…the financial industry has been dragged into what an outsider might recognize as an eye for an eye. Billions of dollars in bonuses are being handed out to masters of a craft that 1/100th of us had no clue existed. Our longitude and latitudes aren’t in sync, which has created unrest, uncaring decisions and not too many tax payers are willing to hold open a peace filled palm.



Staring deeply into the soul of the impatient French soldier whose demands if met would leave Thick Nhat Hanh’s community in a state of starvation, the Monk sought a method of peace. If he had not walked toward the single bucket of rice, there might have been loud shots leading toward horrible bloodshed…by reaching for the rice, starvation being the end result of the situation presented…it guaranteed his community a moment of peace, purchasing enough time to seek other means of nourishment.



Because Gandhi’s quote had been shared with him during the pages so often called the teen years, the Buddhist Monk delivered the rice to the foul mouthed soldier never putting energy in the idea of an eye for an eye.



Once away from the community, Thick Nhat Hahn learned his spiritual leaders were better prepared in the way of bringing to life another parental message often shared but never exercised, “Save it for a rainy day.” Those who taught him the way of peaceful walks had buried many days of rice below the surface of the darkest soil.



The man tested that day openly admits he thinks of the French soldier constantly, often wondering if he made it back home to his family…we are trained as humans to do what we are told, even it means leaving the comfort of family in the name of locating peace by means of war.



Such unrehearsed gatherings create uneducated circumstances that puts innocence on the line…although you’ve had nothing to do with the decisions leading to this world financial crisis, by stepping into the conversation through news media outlets seeking nothing more than higher ratings does nothing more than generate several canals of negative vibrations that which have been or will be tested.



If it’s an eye you seek…shouldn’t you also be asked what color should it be?



Financial crisis, national unemployment rate, two wars in foreign countries…the reality of life doesn’t gift your canvas with those colors to paint…it’s not selfish to admit your cares and concerns are closer, deeper and affect not necessarily an entire community but your family, neighborhood or simply your marriage or relationship with a teen who’s taken it upon themselves to ride the wild wave in the way of attempting to make a name of their own compliments of the hottest Hip Hop or Country song on the radio.



When my stepdaughter dropped out of high school, the easy way to express the uneasiness suddenly tossed into my soul would’ve been to climb on that bus everyday and sit in a long drawn out boring class just to get a black robe and a diploma half of us couldn’t find if we were sent looking for it. Rather than using an eye for an eye…the relationship didn’t go blind…I listened everyday. We built everyday. She graduated with two degrees from UCLA.



We are not the Brady Bunch and life will not go back to normal like it seems to do every week on My Name is Earl. Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin really don’t run a television network and who really cares if American Idol has been accused of knowing who the top four contenders will be weeks before we get to vote. How many times have you skipped on paying out the right amount of rent in Monopoly or grabbed an extra ten when you were in the bank? When playing Chess or Checkers have you ever suddenly shaken the board and forced the game to start over?



An eye for an eye? The only thing you’re supposed to do with eyes is stare into the windows of a soul.



Steal my art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

If it feels good to burp...then let it ring!!!

Who generates the barriers that shape the walls commonly called limitations? Was it a first grade teacher who demanded you sit in an unpadded seat and not move until she gave clearance to Clarence in the front row with the restroom pass? Might it have been the parental figures constantly driving stakes into your dreams of pulling off an Evil Kinevil style jump over three kids on a shaky Stingray bicycle with a fancy banana seat?



Nobody walks this earth without pursuing growth and expansion. Each shape is unique and always in question but its energy is what feeds your personal ability to overcome limitations such as physical, weakness or financial.



The moment you’re introduced to a new skill, knowledge or creative action, life enhancement is introduced to that irritating inner voice, “Get a life or I’m finding a new human!”



August 1997…an assumed everyday average day of writing before sunrise turns into a life changing experience. As a writer, I refuse to use ink pens, choosing instead to wallow in wells, probably inspired by Laura Ingles from Little House on the Prairie or my mother who never stops telling the tales of the boys in class who dipped her long braids in the jars of expression creating quite the exaggeration. When placing the nib of the fountain pen within the wakes of soon to be, it becomes too easy to spill the ink. I did, all over my daily writing. It took the shape of the perfect wine glass. What? How? Where did this come from? Once you’ve been touched by the angels who paint, like any other addiction, it never goes away…you learn how to deal with it.



Today, during the worst of challenges, rather than speedily wreaking havoc on an endeavor to become angry, it fascinates the inner voice to patiently sit back and watch as each domino falls into its unpredictable place revealing newer areas to locate ideas that would’ve never reached my writing instrument if they hadn’t been part of a bad day first.



Putting trust in the present transforms into tranquility and power.



To attain such presentation requires only one thought…become friends with your current situation. To form means limitations. Gain the confidence to reach outward by means of accepting your present.



Everyone has limitations! I refuse to do a five forty Tae Kwon Do kick…one and a half spins in the air, hook kick before landing on the opposite foot. Convinced that I have my limitations, to perform such a kick requires a mindset two decades younger and a skill level that puts the martial art first in your life and not behind all things included on a laundry list of expectations.



No person leaves this soil without encountering their limitations. We’ve all been introduced to the friends and family members who’ve elected to never change and the coworkers who do nothing but constantly change. When your limitations become trapped that creates reaction and or an intense surges of unhappiness to which you attempt to escape but after one or several years of attempts its just one of those things you’ll never accomplish.



Spilled ink on daily writing has taken my art as far away as New Orleans. Not performing a five forty kick might keep me from having a third degree black belt wrapped around my thickening waist this October 19th. How can the art reach Seattle? What can I do to enter a realm of self confidence that picks this aging body high enough off the floor to quickly spin, hook kick then land like an Olympic gymnast?



Author, motivator and spiritualist Eckhart Tolle embraces the vision by teaching you the importance of a surrendered state of consciousness. Live in the present.



How often has someone accused you of being too deep? One who puts dimension in life and depth locates infinite value.



The current financial crisis and horrid recession is a great example and should be studied in the way of offering your imagination a free education. For nearly two years those close to me have heard one thought, “The cream has finally been given the chance to rise to the top.” Nearly every company in all four corners of the world is being forced to reshape and in the process millions of hard working dedicated and loyal employees are finding themselves in situations of discomfort.



Now is your time to rise. Now is the time for you to put forth the effort and energy into everything you’ve always wanted to be. By being locked in a career or job that’s brought unfavorable personalities out of the skin you carry, you’ve been blessed with a new beginning and its going to take that child you once were to ignore your parents and lift that Stingray upward and out over those three nervous bodies below.



Spill your ink! Leap high into the air and kick! It doesn’t matter how ugly and distorted it looks to the rest of the world…you did it! Now practice it over and over again. You cannot be a master at one thing unless you’ve performed it ten thousand times. As I near my 1,560th week of broadcasting that leaves the door wide open for the opportunity to never stop being the student. If my cards are played out properly…the radio industry should finally call me a true professional by the year 2125. I can’t wait!



Limitations…



If limitations controlled my sister Susan then her forty four year search for a father we never met would’ve have been obsolete. Eliminating limitations brought to an end another journey…Jamie and Irene no longer have to search from their end of the playing field. Our father has passed but his children remain and for the first time ever, the circle is complete. To make matters more unreal…Irene lives in North Carolina and has caught my radio show several times never realizing she was my sister.



Limitations…



Steal my sister Susan's art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Breaker 1...9 this is the Rubber Duck

Breaker 1...9...this is the Rubber Duck...
Tuesday 03-17-2009 8:33am ET
The 90’s rock band Jesus Jones poured their souls into radio speakers and MTV with the song Right Here Right Now… In the aftermath of its presentation, it amazes me how many different messages continue to be pulled from the title of a song that has nothing to do with television news broadcasts that have used it for a theme song, car dealerships that assumed they were blazing a new trail by reintroducing it as a catch phrase jingle all the way back to modern day parental figures regurgitating tones once shared with them during the growing up years that echoed, “I told you to do it! Right here! Right now!”

New on the list to jump on the Jesus Jones band wagon…major corporations fed up with employees who find tremendous energy in taking their IPods, cell phones, Blackberries and other electronic devices to full staff meetings. Don’t be shocked when bosses bravely express a new idea, “From this moment forward, I need you right here, right now.”

Author Andrea Kaye nailed it when exposing America’s addiction to technology. Like any other toy, when it starts affecting your chores, mom and dad are headed to your bedroom to seize control.

“You can’t just suddenly take away my phone,” Shouts the overworked sales rep demanding their right to be heard. “I can’t make you money if there’s a sudden disconnection!” Yet…whose face becomes twisted and frail one tenth of a second after the phone begins to sing? We’ve got to make up our minds! Do we want to be the go getter setting the pace for others to follow or the Hollywood act addicted to Radio Shack?

If your fingertips constantly itch and become calm the moment you touch your electronic vibration to the world…Houston we’ve got a possible leakage on this Apollo mission. Slowly breaking free into an open field of unforgettable sunsets on painted horizons is the assumable best choice…but how?

One hour at a time. Unless your job physically points its finger into your nose and demands you stay linked to what stinks…you still own the upper hand. But I don’t think you want it. I host several movie promotions a month, rule number one: turn off your phone or go home. The complaints and disgruntled ill thoughts that are shot at me weekly would make the perfect realty show on late night TV. I’ve heard every excuse, been through every situation and in the end, it wasn’t my arms that brought you into the theater with your electronic condition.

One hour at a time. Turn off the hot new phone tone; disconnect the vibrator and anything that resembles a text messaging device…people will record or print out their thoughts and words. Get back to them after you’ve reclaimed your once lost its all about me self time.

It’s a proven fact: Multi tasking is the number one cause of mistakes on the job and car accidents. You aren’t programmed to pull off several stunts at a time. It feels so good to think you can but in the end…who becomes the monster? Stress kills!

I’ve lost two close friends in their mid-40’s to heart attacks. Was it because of a personal need to drive their desires toward the hottest technology products? Two completely different people from opposite ends of the world and they did have one thing in common…a passion for those creations.

What if we took up Jesus Jones on their offer to be right here, right now? Religious, spiritual and motivational leaders print the message on the inside of our skulls everyday, “The only thing you have the power to change is the present.”

How can we gain access to the present if we’re locked up with an addiction the medical society is studying but won’t release their findings until 2012? President Obama refuses to give up his Blackberry…why should you? Dr. David Massey might have the answer, “It feels beyond incredible to fulfill our needs of being accepted.”

Holy cow…the radio disc jockey had to go there.

Once it locates wi-fi fhe Ipod Touch puts you anywhere in the world with anyone willing to share a conversation…no wonder we don’t fork out a hundred bucks a month on postage stamps anymore.

From My Space, to Face Book, Twitter and all other copycat time stealing connection munchers, the only hope we have is for an email to fall into your box so you can escape to read it or like Jesus Jones says, “We are right here right now,” by answering everything quicker than the speed of light and even in today’s circles that still not fast enough. But give Time Warner another six weeks…they’ll eventually get the hang of it.

Where are you right now? Are you right here? Are you right there? What if you’re currently searching for work and a possible headhunter validly asks, “Can you leave your electronic communication at home?” Could you live without it? What if your next job clearly states: NO IPODS, LAPTOPS, CELL PHONES OR BLACKBERRIES…do you take the job or leave the place believing the not so nice group of people just wasted a tremendous amount of your right here right now?

We are the luxury generation who’s about to kicked in the pants and sent to bed without dinner. Watch the world suddenly change when scientists gain access to the bottom line decision makers wanting to keep insurance rates down and it’s uncovered that the rise in flu, colds, cancer and tumors is caused by the invisible waves that carry our messages from phone to phone Blackberry to the next great invention.

Oh...in the time it took for you to read this, every phone company in America released their hot new summer collection with brighter ways to keep connected, not only will it cost you a couple hundred cha-chings to reach that place of glory but they'll toss in an extremely thin chunk of plastic to make your sytem unique. If you don't get it today, that's ok, it'll be $59.99 next week. Wait...this just in...Apple has just announced the future of business office success the new LMNOPQRST...you can now be stranded on an Island like Gilligan and have absolutely clear reception to place calls anywhere but the National Coast Guard.

Steal my art…

arroecollins@clearchannel.com