Friday, February 26, 2010

How can it be the weekend already?

Another weekend already! How are we getting here so quickly? Is Steven King or James Cameron part of this? It’s not fair! It takes a lifetime to pay off the credit card that financed last weekend and now we’re back to steal more from Peter to pay Paul.



Maybe we really aren’t leaving the weekend…a time machine of sorts. That would explain why it feels like its always snowing. It’s still March 23, 1972. Seriously! We’ve become completely addicted to constantly moving forward that our minds have melted into tiny chips that create days, months and years faster than the speed of sound.



Everybody you see, feel, smell and would like to get to know is nothing more than an illusion. Simon Cowell isn’t leaving American Idol and Ryan Seacrest hasn’t been born yet. Quick! Introduce me to the radio station Program Director who first hired Ryan…we’ll boot him out now…when 2001 roles around again the entertainment business won’t be a Ryan Seacrest monopoly.



I’m joking! I love Ryan! He’s the only person I know that can turn a classic show like American Top 40 into a better product than Casey’s original idea.



Wait a second! Forget Spielberg and Han Solo! We’re the particles and backdrops that make up Ryan Seacrest’s Twilight Zone Nightmare. He’s locked in a horrendous radio dream where everybody knows his name and when he wakes up he’ll still be in Atlanta taking out the trash and everything else required to get an hour of broadcasting time.



It has to be Ryan’s world! American Idol was on three times this past week. My DVR erased shows I wanted to see and replaced it with the worst year of raw performances…which tells me Ryan is about to wake up.



Where will you truly be when Ryan's eyes open?



No! What if I’m still busing tables at The Muzzle Loader Café in Billings, Montana? Hey…I’ll get to take walks with my first love in life Lobo the Alaskan Malamute. Nice! Wake up Ryan! Now!



No! What if we have to relive the banking industries lack of care for the American people and are shoved deeper into a recession and crash worse than Rome? Will Ryan Seacrest be our Caesar? The American Idol stage is the most famous coliseum on earth! Not even the Enquirer Magazine could’ve predicted this!



Enough about Ryan Seacrest! It’s another weekend and it’s his fault they’re happening too fast. He’s like the brother you can’t get away from. It doesn’t matter which room you run away too he’s following you—either on the E Entertainment Network, movies or counting down the 40 biggest hits on American Top 40.



I have but only one question…when will he announce he’s running for President in 2012? Will Paula Abdul be on the ticket with him? Simon Cowell is another Dick Chaney…we deserve to have a fun, up beat VP like George Lopez or…don’t make me say it….Ellen!



See! Now we know why she’s on the show! It’s Hollywood’s way of subliminally telling this nation how to vote! Oh boy…now I’m talking too over my own head and openly I admit I’m more lost than you. I’d ask for a GPS device but it’s probably been designed by Ryan Seacrest’s production company.



It’s another weekend! The East Coast is getting pounded by snow again and again and again. I can’t blame this on Ryan Seacrest. He’s filled with too much hot air. Ouch!



This is one video that didn’t kill the radio star.



History does repeat itself…this is what it felt like when Dick Clark took over America in the 1950’s, 60, 70’s 80’s 90’s and today. Now I sound like a radio station. Guess I should follow station formatics and get back to another four in a row without talk.



Happy weekend and God Bless Ryan Seacrest! I think Ryan just joined you in vomiting.



Arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Stop listening to your boss when he says you stink...

Openly I admit…I’ve never been best friends with “Time.” Can’t blame it on being completely opposite nor can I call it a sibling rivalry. It has nothing to do with being under someone’s complete control or a mile wide jealousy streak fed by it getting more attention than me.



“Time” and I don’t see eye to eye and if put face to face in front of the principle of a school, the GM at a business or alone with me in the car…not even thirty seconds into our gathering and we’re instantly at each others throats.



I can’t be alone on this! I see people waste “Time” like half a sandwich. I bite deeply into my lower until it bleeds when someone doesn’t respect my “Time.” My issues run rampant which infects every breath I take in places where timing is everything. While recording music or talking over the intro of a song on the radio “Time” is my weakest muscle.



This is why I arrive two hours too early and still feel like I’m running a day late. I had a heart attack on July 21st and got a text message from the Great Creator, “I said later not now!”



It doesn’t matter if you’re constantly late or horribly addicted to arriving ahead of schedule “Time” is a bigger bully than the IRS. With so much misery on both sides of the fence…there has to be a happy place! And it can’t be in management because business leaders look horrible and totally out of place.



Author Leo Babauta who gave us the book The Power of Less strongly suggests that every morning should forever begin with a priority list. On that sheet of paper or posted note jot down nothing more than the three most important tasks required that twenty four hour period.



The system is a brilliant exercise which allows you to be in control of “Time.” When someone tells Arroe the Producer, “I need this by blah, blah, blah time,” I limit my words and just smile. Then Arroe the Ambassador is told to report to this place by blank, blank, blank.” Followed by Arroe the movie guy, artist and Tae Kwon Do student…my blood pressure doesn’t get bent out of shape because knowing what my priorities are constantly wins.



Yesterday, the doctor looks at me and says, “I need you back here in less than a week…what day do you have open?” My reply is, “You tell me and I’ll build my day around you.”



Multi-tasking isn’t going away. Expectations will increase to dangerous levels with no shoulder to lean on. The only way you’re going to easily make it is to land a job at Taco Bell where it seems the only people working are the customers cleaning their own tables.



The trick is to locate focus. I’ve made it my daily priority to write on this page for no reason other than to offer a better destination to the day that’s attacking you from all sides. Focusing on a short list of three serves as an incredible fire starter which ignites your determination into a mode of personal victory…the only pat on the back you’re getting from the boss today is that you suck less than yesterday.



Lou believes simple tasking can be a task. It’s going to take some time to get used to it. If your day consists of jumping here, then there, then back here…exercise your right to bring it back to the center. It takes practice to gain control of “Time.”



Stop racing home to watch American Idol, Grey’s Anatomy and Sponge Bob…DVR or Tivo it. Or if you’re like my mother who’s stuck in the 80’s…they still make VHS tapes. Dinner doesn’t always have to be at 6pm. Healthy ways of eating such as grazing with light meals every two hours lands you in total comfort control. Porking down that massive salad at noon is body abuse and you should be arrested. Learn to work with your mind, body and soul and the end result will be a more peaceful view of yourself in the mirror.



How many times have you looked into a mirrored image of those eyes and thought it? You can’t stand that image and everything that goes with it. Then you calmly walk over, turn off the bathroom light and return to the family in the other room with a fake smile, fake ambition to be loving and fake craving for ice cream and mashed potatoes.



That image in the mirror doesn’t have to say a thing because you already know how “Time” has completely destroyed your decision making. Stop letting co-workers interrupt your day. Stop thinking about other things you need to be doing. Team work at work is a joke…it’s all about me and the art of survival. Problem is…you don’t spend enough time thinking about you, which makes you weaker and weaker and eventually you get sick and sicker then you’re out for a day or two and the guilt wreaks havoc on your purpose of being. You should be arrested…that’s body abuse.



A single sheet of paper, three priorities every morning.



It kills me when I can’t be Superman. Then you stop for a moment and look back at how many co-workers came to visit you in the hospital or made a simple phone call to see how things were. The man who wrote the quote, “There’s no I in teamwork,” totally forgot to look the word up on the web. Teamwork is spelled, me, myself and I…



When the short priority list is completed…you’ve respectfully given yourself permission to add to your day.



It’s killing the overly dedicated radio person in me that the job is taking me away from the station commercial production room today…the company asked me to share our positive outlook on the future with young brilliant minds blessed with the gift of performance. Being a showman requires an act of belief and no microphone on my path shall ever be opened if I don’t take the time to teach someone the art of communication. We’ll never make it into the realms of the next 24 hour period if those leading today don’t take the time to teach tomorrows leaders the latest tricks of the trade.



My priority list today: Writing this weeks radio shows. Writing for this web site and shaking hands and kissing babies with people that will be here long after the business has convinced “Time” to take my tail and give it to another maker.



The moment you get control of "Time…"you’ll stop purchasing so much makeup or fun clothes and toys at the mall. Stare into the eyes of a clown and tell me they aren’t hiding something behind that mask. Now go look into the mirror.

Ouch! Mom! He's being mean today!!!!!



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Why win a war when peace requires peace?

Be it at work, home, out shopping, walking through a greenway or every Sunday morning at church, a recently released study takes the shades off those wonderful things we tend to hide in closets and reveals 90% of us are deeply affected by destructive and hurtful speech.



How can you be shocked? You’re injured everyday!



No need to reveal the words we share—we hear them so much its become part of our personally delivered message proving what I’ve always preached: The abused become the abuser.



Being positive makes you Charlie Brown with a giant “L” on your forehead.



In some circles it becomes a game to knock Willie off his power of positive thinking path. I remember two years ago when an intern worked closely behind the scenes with a group of fellow broadcasters aiming to see how badly I’d react to several creative projects coming to a unexpected crash.



If the intern had paid closer attention to the lessons I share, he would’ve quickly taken note of how I “act” in front of people. Rather than angrily “react” I created open spaces through measures of…acting.



Being a martial artist might have something to do with it…Master Harris endlessly teaches us to evaluate every situation without capitalizing on the required victory. Those nights you pass a school and the only thing you see are people pounding the stuffing out of each other are nothing more than Wii game systems that have come to life. The further you travel into the ranks of the foot, fist and way…the more you understand the fine art of studying the consequences of what happens if you elect to react in a non-positive manner.



Let’s be honest, why fight if the situation truly didn’t ask for it? By slipping one to two seconds of thought between the delivered message and your reaction…you’ve purchased ten miles of wide open space that makes you a far better leader in decision making.



Native American spirituality teaches you not to challenge the keeper of the house—until you own the business you’re nothing more than a visitor. If the boss tells you to jump, ask how high. When the boss visits your home teach him the power of respect by not putting him in situations of discomfort. If he or she tries to dominate you on the soils you manage there’s no reason to create destructive and harmful speeches…create open spaces which leaves plenty of room for you to deliver a much safer bed of roses to land in.



What a pansy? Right?



I come from a family of eight snotty nosed spoiled brats who want it all right now or else…I was born to fight. Leaving them behind at the age of eighteen might not have been the most positive move but it taught me how winning isn’t the important step—the only thing I did was injure my mother to which I live with everyday and it kills me that I let brothers and sisters do that to me.



Can families work things out? Yes! Grasping onto an agreed upon conclusion builds bridges toward a path both parties can easily walk on. I laugh a hearty four year old drive your mother crazy giggle when I think of my sister Susan’s comment, “You can’t die…I wouldn’t have anyone to fight with.”



I live two thousand miles from that bone crusher of a professional wrestler but thanks to email, Facebook, texting and everywhere you travel cell phones…family members are located in what feels like the next room away. Can we please go back to the days of covered wagons and a single donkey! Before the Pony Express became good at their game.



That’s what you call destructive and hurtful speech. The moment Susan reads those words she’ll leap onto either side of the white picket fence…she’s either going to fire off a missile of thoughts in retaliation or being the most conceited one in the family, which she admits to being…she’ll gently write, “I love it when you write about me.” But it’s taken 45 years of learning how to get along with each other to develop such a weird sense of humor.



At work…we don’t get 45 years. If I talked this way about a coworker I’d expect them to be crushed. We are the fragile handle with care generation—the human mind, body and soul are governed by workplace intimidation and leaders have turned that heart slicing weapon of mass destruction into a motivation device. Do it or leave. Bring your game or find new fame. I changed my mind ten minutes ago and forgot to tell you so we’d have something to talk about in a meeting neither of us have time for but it makes me look good.



Eliminate destructive and hurtful speech.



When you react you become what author Lou Solomon calls Barney Fife, a master of lazy language. No matter what the situation, good, bad or acceptable…we say the same thing we did yesterday. Our current mission in life requires nothing more than a lap full of dedication and loyalty geared toward gossiping and blaming other people.



That doesn’t make you a winner. When Master Harris looks out at his multitudes of black belts and orders us to live better lives by practicing the true purpose of the martial art, it comes across extremely mean and hurtful—many times I’ve wanted to bolt from class because such messages don’t sit well within the chapters I write. Then I remember one of his powerful messages about carrying stones—why go over a mountain when you can go through it one rock at a time?



In work and at play we’ve become lazy at everything we do. Karaoke is proof of that…singing in front of people in wild bars isn’t new. Nobody learns the lyrics of a song anymore so we lazily read them off a tiny screen.

Wait! I should’ve practiced the nanosecond pause……………….Karaoke is extremely fun because it builds self confidence in those who find the proper notes and don’t waste time struggling to remember lyrics.



Practice pausing before you react. Lou Solomon teaches us to eavesdrop on ourselves. Listen to how we say things. Watch what you instantly send through the email system. Be careful what you expose on Facebook…everything you share can come back and haunt you. FB friends are about as real as Harry Potter. Wait! Pause….. Get to know your FB friends like a family member and you’ll have someone new to wrestle with on Thanksgiving Day.



Lou teaches: Learn to speak from humility and not false self esteem.



Pause…..so what’s your reaction?



Steal my art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Monday, February 22, 2010

Know the rules or pay the price...

When winning awards and trophies do you have the right to display them any way you want even if it means crossing the line?



A. Yes…it’s the participant’s hard work and dedication that led to the victory.

B. No it represents the sport or business not the individual.



And the battle begins…



Olympic medalist snowboarder Scott Lago is headed home from the Winter Olympics because U.S. officials have called a photograph of him holding his bronze medal below his bare belly button for a girl to kiss too racy—it doesn’t represent this nation’s high standards and extremely firm commitment toward being world leaders in good manors and morally perfect ethics.



On the other side of the fence, fans of the outrageously wild lifestyle of snowboarding believe athletes train non-stop morning, noon and night…once the job has been completed a little letting go is acceptable. Nobody says anything about their bodies being covered with tattoos…it’s been accepted as art. All things should be accepted including wild antics.



I’m having flashbacks of the 72 Summer Olympics when three American’s raised their fists in the air to show solidarity and officials believed it supported the Black Panthers.



What if Michael Phelps had been wearing gold medals while smoking pot in South Carolina? Can you set aside your awards to participate in a little humanism?



When Henry Hank Aaron slammed his record setting homerun why wasn’t Olympic runner Bruce Jenner chastised for leaping out of the stands and getting totally out of control as he rounded the bases with the homerun king?



Awards and trophies are extremely touchy subjects—OJ Simpson was forced to sell his Heisman Trophy to help pay off debts created by crimes he allegedly committed. If it had been an Oscar, that hunk of metal would’ve been lifted from the buyer’s hands and placed in a vault owned and operated by Hollywood. At no time can an actor, director, producer or family member sell or trade an Oscar—it belongs to the academy until the end of time.



At Martial Arts University our belts are looked upon as being a representation of knowledge and at no time are they to touch the floor, they will not to be worn around our necks, as head bands or to be set aside like a book or carrying bag. Master Harris clearly states that every step we take in the school and outside in the real world represents his leadership and if we elect to make bad choices it’s a reflection on him…therefore you will be punished by him.



When does winning an award make it yours to keep?



It’s always going to be your medal or trophy. They aren’t taking away Scott Lago’s bronze medal. Coaches and staff members chose to make an example of him by firmly planting a seed not only in the mindset of current athletes but every child who wishes to one day become a member of the dream team—you’ll walk with pride and honor before, during and after or face the consequences.



There’s a standard that must be met and if not properly played out, it affects and infects those following your dreams of becoming an award winner.



Princess Di’s youngest song Harry was blasted worldwide for attending a Halloween costume party dressed as a German soldier from WWII. On the flip side of the coin Johnny Depp was arrested for completely destroying a hotel room and nothings been said since. Charlie Sheen put the highly rated television show Two In a Half Men on the line when he was busted for allegedly taking his anger out in ways that are unacceptable. Mickey Rourke and Robert Downey Jr. have seen the four walls of a prison cell many times and they’re still working. We won’t even talk about Michael Vick.



Should Olympic bronze medalist Scott Lago be sent home for having too much of a good time, I mean come on…he’s a snowboarder and being wild like a rock star is their Hip Hop way of expressing. Or should U.S. official look a different direction and pretend seeing photos of him having women kiss the medal below his belly button didn’t take place?



How do you feel when fans wreak havoc on towns after winning national championships? Don’t they too represent the team and or individual who was named best of the year? When Ohio State picked up the college crown, fans turned that town upside down. What made the Saints winning the Super Bowl fun was the accepted feeling that Mardi Gras was getting started a little earlier than normal.



Is there truly an invisible line you aren’t supposed to cross? Shouldn’t such a line be made visible by laying out the ground rules? In martial arts those rules are presented before every class: Courtesy, Integrity, Perseverance, Self Control, and Indomitable Spirit.



At the end of every class we lay out the Ten Articles of Student Commitment: Be loyal to your country, honor your parents, be loving between husband and wife, be cooperative between brothers and sisters, be faithful to your friends, be respectful of your elders, establish trust between teacher and student, use good judgment before killing living things, never retreat in battle, always finish what you start.



The rules of martial arts are extremely tough reaching beyond the belts that represent our knowledge…don’t ever let me catch you eating or chewing gum while wearing your Do Bok (uniform). If you fail to salute the flag the moment your feet touch the mat, noise will be made. Total focus in class requires no words. You don’t come to class to practice, you arrive to learn. The moment you step into the school…there is no other life.



Not all schools abide by the same rules…if I fall witness to something I’ve been taught is wrong…showing respect to my school I look to the floor rather than challenge the master of that establishment. Upon completion of the visit, I invite the Master to my school with high hopes of them falling witness to our traditions.



If Scott Lago didn’t want the world to know that he’d be hanging his bronze medal below his belly button he should’ve pasted a giant sign to the front door that read: No cell phones or camera’s allowed.

We are living the age of Big Brother...it isn't the government messing up lives its your best friend or an innocent passerby.



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Friday, February 19, 2010

Married to your job?

The weekend is here! Time to whip out the official coworker handbook and grab some better ways and ideas on how to open the door to being loved and accepted inside that place called…the job! He writes while bursting out in hearty laughter.



Where along the way do you suddenly stop thinking about what others think? If too much thought is dropped on your daily plate would the Food and Drug Administration label it a vegetable, fruit or meat?



Why don’t ministers, preachers and judges marry co-working communities? Seriously! The average person spends more time at work than they do at home and it’s always baffled me that a working relationship is never seen as a solid bond between 5, 10 or 4,000 people.



I’m “not” talking about two people falling in love at work. I want to know why the hours that lead to months and years are never taken “business marriage” serious except every two weeks, the beginning and end of the month and when you’re given tax forms before January 31st.



Look how much money lawyers would make if there’s a divorce! Companies won’t be able to instantly fire you…you must be separated for a year. If there’s trouble between you and the GM…you go to counseling or locate a new gym, hobby or restaurant to rebuild the friendship. If that doesn’t work out…then all 5, 10 or 4,000 must vote on whether something should be finalized.



Would the “business marriage” divorce rate be any different than the home life where the big D is happening to 52% of new and old relationships? Something has taught us to quit and quit quickly. I’ve always blamed it on the NFL, NBA and Hollywood—monkey see monkey do. A player wants to be traded, no sweat…ESPN talks about it and poof…everybody but Kobe Bryant is dunking baskets for someone new.



Salary caps might strengthen the American economy. I can’t have the only mom and dad in the world who said, “If you get a new bicycle so does your sister Susan!” So if the clean freak in cubical nine is picking up a few extra bucks then we should all pick up a few extra cha-chings. What’s good for one is good for all right? People without people skills are competitors who’ve lost their drive to compete against the real competition; they elect instead to take it out on one of their team members.



A very tall man once said to me, “There are no rules when it comes to winning.”



Is that what this is all about? Didn’t we get enough of the family squabble between zero and eighteen before we hauled tail to college or the school of hard knocks only to learn we haven’t grown an inch or traveled a mile…the players of the game have only changed.



Going to work doesn’t really have to be a chore. The best way to score is to twist your pattern of thought to the “business marriage zone.” You’re already in the relationship; you might as well get the tax write off!



Quietly look around your office and look at each of your coworkers—smile a real smile and offer to help them in a loving way. Don’t send an email or text…talk to them face to face with compassion and understanding.



Holy cow…even I’m getting sick. It’s not that I don’t love those who make up our winning circle. I just don’t think I can afford more than one Christmas, “I want! I want! I need! I have to have! I need by! Don’t buy me a gift just give me the credit card.”



Do me a favor…come back to work Monday with a smile and if nobody wants to smile back…smile harder. People spend hundreds of dollars every year on makeup for their cheeks, eyes and lips and guys buy suits, ties and shoes that match—its nothing more than a highly accepted and very expensive clown costume. If you truly need to hide behind something…you look 500,000 times better behind a smile.



You’ll be freaked out when someone finally smiles back. It’s ok to be positive even on days when nobody wants it. Like a marriage, be strong and patiently work your way through it. Don’t forget to put faith in the art of listening before reacting. Leave your ego in the front seat of your car. I’ve met people who’ve been married for 55 to 60 years and everyone of them say, “Marriage is like a job…you’ve got to work on it everyday.”



Starting today your job is like a marriage…learn to love it.



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Thursday, February 18, 2010

What is failure but the first step of a brand new beginning....

My goals have never been to keep up with the Jones’ but rather the Jones’ keep up with me. My true art isn’t what you find on a blizzard white canvas or in a reservation of words displayed in radio commercials and books but rather the thought process that evolves into my reality. I don’t know if it’s my Montana upbringing or fear of failure…there’s almost never a peaceful beginning, middle and end to an Arroe day.



One of the most difficult tasks faced is trying to understand a passerby’s lack of performance—the vision is there, the passion to succeed is more vibrant than cheap flea market perfume, missing is the loyalty required to accept the bad with the good, the mids with the highs and failures without hope of locating anything more than a new door to be tossed out of.



Olympic gold medalist Sean White is a great example of there being no end to the horizons we chase. Like the great sailor and visionary Christopher Columbus, Sean stretches his ability toward the walls that protect inability and like a true warrior the word “No” is nothing more than fence requiring a better understanding so that in time, with practice and through unmeasured amounts of soul sweat…the vision people once laughed at becomes your best step taken forward.



One of the main reasons why people stop dreaming is denial.



Author Lou Solomon presented this statement to a panel of normal everyday Joe’s and Rhonda’s: There’s no reason to look for ways of doing things differently.



The number one response, “I would but I honestly don’t have the time.”



Bosses, coworker’s and spouse’s constantly spout, “If it ain’t broken don’t fix it…it’s my way or the highway?” As much as I want to cheer on the human mammal for its ability to travel farther in the past 100 years than any other time of existence—I feel as if I should hang my head in shame for thinking we were all built the same.



A lot of us locate peace in Lou’s second biggest response, “Let’s start from scratch and build something better.”



We take a dream, ambition, desire and or spur of the moment reaction to an invisible line in the sand and drop it. Turn our backs and walk away with a new hobby. I’m extremely guilty of this mid-dream crisis! It felt incredible to have art featured in seven different galleries including a really cool joint in New Orleans. What my ego didn’t recognize were the walls of our nation’s worst recession since the depression. 2009 was the year art passed away…galleries sold only well known artists or closed completely which meant raw starving artists dried up making way for extremely boring living rooms and bedrooms with nothing more than a drab approach to preserving worn out rainbows.



I stopped painting because gallery managers and owners became mean. They took on the face of a fourth grade English teacher with a bright red pen aimed at brightly identifying everything that’s wrong without ever inspiring something that appeared new. When you shame an artist you’ve invited silence to the future.



Most would say I’ve got the problem not the gallery—it’s a fear of criticism. Lou Solomon covered that too by asking everyday Joe’s and Brenda’s to respond to this statement: I fear that by trying something new I will be judged by others.



Top reaction, “I will try something new if there’s not much at stake.”



How many times a week do you hop onboard that ship? It’s that brilliant moment when being on the web becomes boring, you’ve seen every movie in Red Box and Net-flix, the house can’t get any cleaner and lord knows the neighbors are nice people but entertaining them again and again is out of the question—so you slip your ten toes and fingers into a suit of armor and courageous step into a pile of discovery.



Number two reaction: Our fear of criticism is heightened by the way people respond—most of us would agree that incredible energy is located when positive feedback is received. Silence destroys but not as fast as a friend or family member who offers their opinion. Julia Cameron’s golden rule is to stay 100% away from their efforts of helping you build the perfect performance.



Inviting someone close like family or best friend to your creation is asking for trouble. You will be hurt. You will become damaged. You will set the dream aside and may never return to its origin. This is why I don’t party with the people I work with. My performance at work is the actor. The image in the mirror is the true self and I’ve yet to come up with a plan that’ll convince him to step away from that sheet of ice and play out here in the real world.

I'll never forget how comedian Pam Stone reacted when I told her that I celebrated my birthday with real friends. I didn't mean for the comment to invite pain. We all have protective circles and the one of the worst to be in is at work.


I've gotten to known the man in the mirror. I ask a question, he asks a question. I move my right hand he moves his right hand. If you stare long enough into the eyes of the image you’ll begin to hear words, “Do it…if you fall I’ll be here to catch you. If you win, you’ll have no time for me because you’ll be celebrating with your friends. Either way…I’ll be here to help you see what others are missing...the real you.”



Denial and fear of criticism…what if you started to believe in yourself again? Learn to be the champion you are by getting to know everything you are. That's where simple thoughts become your reality.



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

One time at Band Camp...

This just in…the weekend has been canceled. Lawmakers can’t tax the money you make if you’re locked in a position of relax; therefore our nation is losing dollars during your down time. By electing not to work interns and congressional pages will be laid off affecting subcommittees, bipartisan voting and the endless amount of money that seems to be growing on bailout trees.



Not true! Fake story! But what if?



Wait! Breaking news from San Francisco: Starting Monday drivers will be charged twenty five cents each time they tap their car brakes. Clean air officials believe acid rain is created by the dust that falls from brake pad when sailing down the cities twisty curvy hills. The air quality should improve by the year 2168.



Every city in America has its share of brilliant minds glued to only one purpose: figure out newer legal ways to tax, tax, tax without it coming across as being a new tax. Don’t be afraid of the people, there are no new oceans for them to sail across. Besides, they love video games and HBO they'll never leave them behind!



Holy Cow! Senator Michael Blah Finkle Walker just introduced a moon bill! People world wide that saw the movie Dear John and instantly stepped outside to see if the moon really is the size of their thumbnail will receive a $200 entertainment statement from the United States Government who claims squatter’s rights…we were there first with Apollo and like all amusement parks…you can’t get in free.



Congresswoman Molly Shank Waddle Do Diddy will speak to our nations mayors asking for their help in convincing all America and Canada that leaves still left on trees in the middle of winter should be taken down immediately and if residents ignore the ordinance there’ll be a ten dollar fine for every leaf still left on a tree.



As we inch closer and closer to April 15th courageous hardworking deeply dedicated and very lucky to have a job employee’s face the annual mind boggling question, “What can I get away with writing off on this year’s taxes?”



If we stopped on our side would they halt on their end?



California is the second largest state in the nation with far more people than most countries and their financial buckets are empty. The winter of oh 10 has been incredibly brutal on the east coast—state workers are being told, “No overtime! We can’t afford to get the job done right!”



No way! This just in! Mayor Harvey Pee-nuckle Crunch a Munch from Bakken Town, North Dakota is calling on all residents east of the city to begin paying for the snow, claiming every flake that falls after the Mississippi river was created in North Dakota and it takes a lot man hours to make sure every flake is unique and never the same and every state involved needs to fork out the bucks to keep this machine running.



Folks in Delaware and Tennessee are fighting back laying claim to being the creators of North and South Dakota, “If it wasn’t for my Great Grand Daddy’s covered wagon and love for Hip Hop music…nobody not even Lewis and Clark would’ve traveled beyond St. Lewis—therefore you owe us a belated inventors tax of two trillion dollars.”



Coming from Montana where there’s no sales tax and all things on the shelf are the price the sticker says…the most difficult culture shock to me was having to toss in another seven cents to the dollar. Charlotte, NC charges homeowners a run off tax to help pay for the city sewer system. Officials assume they know how much will be falling out of the sky inside a 52 week period and tack it onto your monthly statement. I still can’t believe how much money people are paying for water. If people suddenly stop using it…they’ll raise the rates again which guarantees they’ll never go out of business.



I love watching television between 11pm and 6 in the morning…the cable went out last night. I called the company asking for a break in the price. My heart medicine jumped up 80 bucks in price inside a month. The CVS Pharmacist couldn’t figure out why I made them dump out every pill in front of me to guarantee I was getting the exact amount of pills the bottle said was on the inside.



How many hours are you required to work per week that’ll help you financially break even?



The only thing missing in America is a dust bowl. Not to be confused with an ice cream bowl, cereal bowl, popcorn bowl or my mothers world famous bowl style haircut. Three years ago research showed the average family was one paycheck away from being labeled lower class. Wouldn’t it be great if the Mayor gave us a tax break like they do businesses for moving into the cities limits, “Thank you kind resident for making our town your new home…no city property tax for you for three years because we know you’ll invite your mother in law and her three cats to move in. We'll triple charge her!”



I work with someone who won’t get the N1H1 flu shot…he physically believes it’s the government’s way of planting a chip in your system. I always believed the chip was in my driver’s license—it’s with me everywhere I drive. When the nice police officer takes it back to his car he runs it through his computer and mine reads, “Don’t even think about asking him a question…you’ll get a three day poetic report that’ll be so far over your head you’ll be begging for congress to tax every word he speaks.”



What we truly need in this country is a giant can of root beer and a good old fashion burping contest. Somewhere inside all that noise will be a funny snort of sorts that’ll make us laugh the rest of our life. Sure they'll probably want to tax us but dang if we didn't have a good time honking so loud they heard us in Russia.



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Two things that won't come in a pill...

Have you ever been locked in a deep thought then suddenly yanked by the arm to participate with a conversation? The distance traveled is usually a billion light years yet to an outsider they caught nothing more than a twitch in the corner of your eye.



I’ve always been fascinated with the way the human mind can turn itself off while running freely in a world it’s created. Like when you sleep—as a child I assumed there was a sound switch stapled to the wall of my thinker…it was difficult to digest why it seemed sound disappeared while leaping around the solar system in bright red and blue Superman costumes. Coming out of a deep sleep means sound has returned.



The top reason why I crave doing an overdose of daily pushups is due to an addiction to what many call a runner’s high. For my first degree black belt test I wanted to show students not only how important but how powerful meditation is by slamming my hands through two bricks while awkwardly doing pushups. For the second degree test I added two more bricks for a back fist and my giant noggin.



Ki energy is essential to my everyday success.



It’s too easy to create walls of protection—mindsets that erase reality and replace it with something we can control. You can’t endure the presence of an unforgettable endorphin rush until you’ve harnessed control of where the energy arrives.



All too often people think filling their lungs up with air while raising the heart rate to 400,000 is a brilliant way to maintain proper mind, body and soul communication. I refuse to argue with that because each of us are different—but where do you go when you’re suddenly yanked by the arm to participate with a project and the vending machine or coffee maker is two moons and an entire planet away?



Knowing where your ki energy is enables you to tap into it like a Montana farmers well waiting to share its water supply.



Four solid rounds of full contact Hap Kito sparring last night during what I hope are the final pages of a miserable bout with bronchitis put nothing in the channels of ease. To face an opponent capable of bringing damage to your tomorrow invites fear, a lack of confidence and an invisible desire to stop before exploring other areas as to why you’ve elected to perform in this class of what an outsider might see as a grown up 4 year old pounding the ba-jee-bus out of someone they barely know. People get kicked out of school for this stuff!



Confidence can and will make or break the bricks that make up the chapters you write. Having too much or too little can destroy you. Showcasing fear tells the competition nothing. They’ve convinced themselves to seek and destroy. Unless you grew up rough housing with brothers, sisters, friends and cousins…the idea of getting tapped on the chin, back of the head or stomach is far worse than having to stand in front of Simon Cowell on American Idol.



Instantly locating your ki energy builds the bridges to the fortress to which you wish to protect. Everybody has that tiny place where poof! You become…them! What most don’t understand is ki energy is like a muscle…it requires a workout.



If you’re convinced that everything touched is going to be a failure, forking out hundreds of dollars for motivational books and seminars is a waste of time and spirit. People attend these legal brain washings to feel good. If you’re biggest wish in life is to up your ability to feeling great…it’s going to require more than confidence.



Darth Vader isn’t conceited. His vision is set and knows what’s required when attaining its full potential. He pulls from the force.



I studied Olympic skater Apollo Ono the other night before he fought hard for his silver medal—he let go of the past and future and created an agreement with the present. Download the video and watch his mind unlock from the fear of quite possibly not becoming the greatest Winter Games player of all time. You can see it in his eyes…like a deep far away dream the sound switch connected to his thinker disconnected him from the world we know and put his hard work, dedication and loyalty into the center of his ki energy.



You can’t purchase ki energy at Wal-Mart. You aren’t going to find it in a chocolate bar with large letters that read: Energy. I don’t care how many cans of Red Bull you can down inside sixty seconds or how many cups of hot java you pour into your veins on a daily basis…everything manmade has the power to completely destroy what comes 100% natural.



So there I was last night…my ego completely attached to a full dose of ki zooming through the system like asteroids searching for wanna-be scientists on planet earth and suddenly without warning…I was yanked from my far, far away place. What in God’s name would be so strong to destroy what just lifted me toward my best night in Tae Kwon Do since the giant H.A?



Nobody practices how to get out of the house.



Say what?



In everything we do to protect our family, home and pets…if someone breaks into your house 99.9% of us wouldn’t know how to escape. We think we know what to do during a fire…but to physically be prepared for a break in, the heart stopping seconds required to keep your head on straight are wasted trying to figure out a plan. Even if you ran toward the garage, because you didn’t practice opening the garage or leaping under the door as it opened could cost you.



When you stop…so does your breathing. When it stops so do your thoughts. When that stops…the attacker keeps going.



If there’s one thing I could change in this world it’s the average persons thoughts on what martial arts is truly all about…as much as we believe in the power of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan and how they can beat their way out of a paper bag…the biggest and greatest lesson taught is the art of getting away. Having the confidence and the knowledge to do nothing more than run from danger.



My first martial arts Master told his students everyday, “Why do I want to break the nose of someone I don’t know…they might have aids.” Gulp!



If you want energy locate your ki. If you want family protection at home…figure out an escape plan and practice it over and over again.



Steal this ancient art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Monday, February 15, 2010

New Journey: Book one Page one...

My blonde Rock n Roll roots are beginning to show!



Thirty one years of on-air broadcasting and it finally hits me…I have no clue how music makes it to radio’s two speaker stages. Except to say it doesn’t matter how much love, passion and desire you pour into your performance, you’ll never be given a green card or certificate that guarantees you’ll be heard on the radio.



Singer/songwriter/studio producer and unrecognized star yet highly respected guitarist hired to perform with multitudes of major bands on stage, television and movies, Bruce Gaitsch once said to me, “It’s all about being in the right place at the right time.”



From this side of the map, where music is delivered on shiny objects that make better mirrors than Frisbees…I’ve spent every cent of my career focused on the travels that which connect bands to and away from radio and MTV airplay. Radio forced me to study the ups and downs, twists and turns, successes and failures all in the name of keeping this part of the acceptance speech locked in an act of being compelling.



I own hundreds of books that tell the tales of the musician. It was my job to know. Hosting several countdown’s combined with one hour radio features based on the places we create inside our imaginations due to music…it was my daily dedication to remain loyal to the history and its makers. Sadly, the more I dug into the caverns of time…I became less of a fan of the polarized early boss jock on-air talent.



Changing me was The Pied Pipers of Rock n Roll; it was supposed to be about late night disc jockeys that put their jobs on the line so R&B would continue to inspire as well as become properly placed in our life and style. Once completed, my heart had been shamed, I couldn’t champion the courage of the radio talkers for breaking radio station formatics; what it required to get music on the air created silence not more music. Brilliant artists were injured therefore creating silence rather than music.



Writers, producers and performers creatively designed marketing ideas and plans that better sold their souls to get 143 seconds of on-air time. The end result was give give give leaving nothing for taking.



The reasons why ASCAP and BMI were founded and still exist boggles the noodle into wondering which side of the fence I should be standing on. Am I for the musician or the broadcaster? Just because you play great music and the ratings continuously call you one of the best that’s not enough energy to hoist your picture to a special nail that’ll hold your legacy for future generations inside Radio’s Hall of Fame.



For thirty one years I’ve skirted around the issue—never mixing musicianship with on-air showmanship. I’ve never wanted to be accused of playing someone’s song or talking about another artist a little more than another. Legendary jock Alan Freed, the man who coined the phrase Rock and Roll embarrassingly shattered the thin lines separating music and radio by allegedly accepting gifts for airtime.



Since the late 1950’s many within the walls we keep have been accused of cheating their way onto the scene. But who’s truly at fault? In my early years of radio in small town USA I verbally fought with music companies who believed more in the artists they were promoting then the religion or spirituality that created the journey. If I didn’t hear it…I didn’t hear it. An old Program Director once said to me, “If I’m not hooked in 25 seconds…it ain’t going on my air.” He’s been credited for being one of the leading radio talent behind success stories such as Loretta Lynn, Alabama and hordes of others that have come and gone.



The world of music is evil with nothing on the horizon that offers beautiful sunsets…unless you’re one of the lucky ones. All who participate become snow blind in a innocent blizzard of dreams that feel as if they’re about to come true then something happens…be it radio, You Tube, VH-1 or a producer that bragged at being the best at mastering the final product only to learn your vocals were sped up to make you sound younger, brighter and more attractive—ask John Mellencamp and Madonna how they felt when the final piece of the puzzle was no longer part of what they controlled.



We could talk all day about ditches and valleys music making has created—up until seven months ago…I was nothing more than book taught. Imagine if Olympic snowboarding great Sean White was invited to Canada and he didn’t have the experience to pull off his totally rad X-Game stunts…that’s how I look at my thirty one years in radio. Everyday is the Olympics and I have no clue how the snow got here.



My blonde Rock n Roll roots are beginning to show.



In September of 2009 I set out to write, produce and professionally record music. To walk the line of those who’ve made radio unforgettable. To create the hooks that turn your horribly bad day into something you can sing with. To captivate your imagination at the moment you realize the piece of music playing through your car speakers was written about your life.



It has become my vision quest to speak from the street.



Over the next several months and quite possibly year or two…I’m dedicating myself to play the game, expecting to get deeply hurt and tossed out of many places, laughed at, pointed at and damaged to the point of non-repair. Why? Because of a kid I once knew who sat in his bedroom everyday dreaming of being a rock star. I banged on boxes with Lincoln Logs for sticks, turned three string guitars into heavy metal nightmares because it was all I could afford. I sang so horribly out of tune I still hear my dad’s voice screaming at me to shut up.



I chose radio for a career because it was easier to locate stages to perform. Once here, I left that kid behind. I think I owe him a chance. And I’m taking you with me.



I’ve laid out the ground work calling the project 15 Pieces from a Faceless Beast. Once the rough draft and or storyboard was completed, I courageously opened the door showcasing the work to record producers, writers and worldly known musicians and vocalists who for some sick reason have said one thing, “There’s something here.”



Alan said to me, “Your description of the project is on key…it haunted me to hear you say that people are calling your creativity incredible therapy and they’re walking away laughing or saying nothing at all. That’s about to change. It’s become my goal to turn your music into something that will make someone say…wow.”



And thus begins the journey. My blonde Rock n Roll roots are beginning to show. You will meet the words and wisdom of every music director I speak with. You’ll read the constructive criticism from Nashville as well as ask your own questions—just like writing, my long term investment in something like this has everything to do with one day inspiring a silent artist to take from their closet every secret they’ve kept hidden from the world and give it purpose in the winds that change our everyday.



I believe in you…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

New Journey: Book on Page one...

My blonde Rock n Roll roots are beginning to show!



Thirty one years of on-air broadcasting and it finally hits me…I have no clue how music makes it to radio’s two speaker stages. Except to say it doesn’t matter how much love, passion and desire you pour into your performance, you’ll never be given a green card or certificate that guarantees you’ll be heard on the radio.



Singer/songwriter/studio producer and unrecognized star yet highly respected guitarist hired to perform with multitudes of major bands on stage, television and movies, Bruce Gaitsch once said to me, “It’s all about being in the right place at the right time.”



From this side of the map, where music is delivered on shiny objects that make better mirrors than Frisbees…I’ve spent every cent of my career focused on the travels that which connect bands to and away from radio and MTV airplay. Radio forced me to study the ups and downs, twists and turns, successes and failures all in the name of keeping this part of the acceptance speech locked in an act of being compelling.



I own hundreds of books that tell the tales of the musician. It was my job to know. Hosting several countdown’s combined with one hour radio features based on the places we create inside our imaginations due to music…it was my daily dedication to remain loyal to the history and its makers. Sadly, the more I dug into the caverns of time…I became less of a fan of the polarized early boss jock on-air talent.



Changing me was The Pied Pipers of Rock n Roll; it was supposed to be about late night disc jockeys that put their jobs on the line so R&B would continue to inspire as well as become properly placed in our life and style. Once completed, my heart had been shamed, I couldn’t champion the courage of the radio talkers for breaking radio station formatics; what it required to get music on the air created silence not more music. Brilliant artists were injured therefore creating silence rather than music.



Writers, producers and performers creatively designed marketing ideas and plans that better sold their souls to get 143 seconds of on-air time. The end result was give give give leaving nothing for taking.



The reasons why ASCAP and BMI were founded and still exist boggles the noodle into wondering which side of the fence I should be standing on. Am I for the musician or the broadcaster? Just because you play great music and the ratings continuously call you one of the best that’s not enough energy to hoist your picture to a special nail that’ll hold your legacy for future generations inside Radio’s Hall of Fame.



For thirty one years I’ve skirted around the issue—never mixing musicianship with on-air showmanship. I’ve never wanted to be accused of playing someone’s song or talking about another artist a little more than another. Legendary jock Alan Freed, the man who coined the phrase Rock and Roll embarrassingly shattered the thin lines separating music and radio by allegedly accepting gifts for airtime.



Since the late 1950’s many within the walls we keep have been accused of cheating their way onto the scene. But who’s truly at fault? In my early years of radio in small town USA I verbally fought with music companies who believed more in the artists they were promoting then the religion or spirituality that created the journey. If I didn’t hear it…I didn’t hear it. An old Program Director once said to me, “If I’m not hooked in 25 seconds…it ain’t going on my air.” He’s been credited for being one of the leading radio talent behind success stories such as Loretta Lynn, Alabama and hordes of others that have come and gone.



The world of music is evil with nothing on the horizon that offers beautiful sunsets…unless you’re one of the lucky ones. All who participate become snow blind in a innocent blizzard of dreams that feel as if they’re about to come true then something happens…be it radio, You Tube, VH-1 or a producer that bragged at being the best at mastering the final product only to learn your vocals were sped up to make you sound younger, brighter and more attractive—ask John Mellencamp and Madonna how they felt when the final piece of the puzzle was no longer part of what they controlled.



We could talk all day about ditches and valleys music making has created—up until seven months ago…I was nothing more than book taught. Imagine if Olympic snowboarding great Sean White was invited to Canada and he didn’t have the experience to pull off his totally rad X-Game stunts…that’s how I look at my thirty one years in radio. Everyday is the Olympics and I have no clue how the snow got here.



My blonde Rock n Roll roots are beginning to show.



In September of 2009 I set out to write, produce and professionally record music. To walk the line of those who’ve made radio unforgettable. To create the hooks that turn your horribly bad day into something you can sing with. To captivate your imagination at the moment you realize the piece of music playing through your car speakers was written about your life.



It has become my vision quest to speak from the street.



Over the next several months and quite possibly year or two…I’m dedicating myself to play the game, expecting to get deeply hurt and tossed out of many places, laughed at, pointed at and damaged to the point of non-repair. Why? Because of a kid I once knew who sat in his bedroom everyday dreaming of being a rock star. I banged on boxes with Lincoln Logs for sticks, turned three string guitars into heavy metal nightmares because it was all I could afford. I sang so horribly out of tune I still hear my dad’s voice screaming at me to shut up.



I chose radio for a career because it was easier to locate stages to perform. Once here, I left that kid behind. I think I owe him a chance. And I’m taking you with me.



I’ve laid out the ground work calling the project 15 Pieces from a Faceless Beast. Once the rough draft and or storyboard was completed, I courageously opened the door showcasing the work to record producers, writers and worldly known musicians and vocalists who for some sick reason have said one thing, “There’s something here.”



Alan said to me, “Your description of the project is on key…it haunted me to hear you say that people are calling your creativity incredible therapy and they’re walking away laughing or saying nothing at all. That’s about to change. It’s become my goal to turn your music into something that will make someone say…wow.”



And thus begins the journey. My blonde Rock n Roll roots are beginning to show. You will meet the words and wisdom of every music director I speak with. You’ll read the constructive criticism from Nashville as well as ask your own questions—just like writing, my long term investment in something like this has everything to do with one day inspiring a silent artist to take from their closet every secret they’ve kept hidden from the world and give it purpose in the winds that change our everyday.



I believe in you…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Friday, February 12, 2010

You aren't alone...

I love research! I don’t always like what research says but there’s nothing more motivational than staring at 8x10 chunks of once living trees and reading about what premonition has been screaming for months or what’s required to be changed so future visions can become a more peaceful reality.



In her new book Say Something Real author Lou Solomon posted this statement: I’m frustrated when people don’t seem to know I have credibility.



How did people react?



First! How many fingers are required on the human hand when counting the number of times a boss or coworker has pretty much left you out of the picture because in their heart you didn’t have the necessary tools to achieve what they set out to accomplish?



In doing this, bosses tend to forget they’re teaching their worker bees how to quit. Participation is the greatest motivational tool on earth. Feeling like you belong is fuel and when bosses and coworkers pull of their buddy buddy stunts the end result rarely reaches greatness. Being good is the new acceptance level in Corporate America. Good and fine will do…if that doesn’t work we’ll find someone new. Harassment is a line you don’t cross inside the workplace, when will someone look deeper into the repercussions of motivation through intimidation?



How did everyone respond to Lou’s statement: I’m frustrated when people don’t seem to know I have credibility.



1 replied, “I sometimes do a little name dropping.”



678 said, “I put energy into connecting with people—things work out.”



2,345 came back with, “I promote myself but in a tasteful way.”



Which one were you?



Not everyone likes to hold the power of team work and creative flow—they’re hired to do one thing so the idea of asking a coworker for a trip down multitask lane can easily be compared to gulping down a 400 degree cup of coffee. Number one reason why so many stay incredibly silent….fear of exposure.



So…Lou made this statement: I feel more secure if I don’t show weakness.



Maybe it’s the Tae Kwon Do in me or my stepfather Joe’s U.S. Military background but fearing a new opportunity has never been scooped up and dumped on my plate. I waste no time taking on a good or bad challenge which has earned me a few nicknames my mother would be embarrassed to hear. That’s when I quickly follow up their beautifully designed adjectives with a simple question, “When did I say I wasn’t?”



Lets look at Hollywood Week on American Idol…each singer is expected to stay up well beyond midnight to practice and practice, fight then practice some more. Trust me…there are AI staff members watching their actions and reactions then documenting how well they can handle real entertainment pressure. Being a slave to the road messes with your mind, body and soul…giving away your art to 15 to 30,000 people a night rips your determination to shreds. Natalie from the Dixie Chicks refused to climb back on the bus with the two sisters…so the twins said, “No sweat, we’re going to do it without you.”



Dave Grohl from Nirvana, The Fu Fighters and now Them Crooked Vultures is a brilliant musical success story based on his roots never spoiling. The man Curt Cobain couldn’t stand has evolved into one of the most brilliant multitaskers in music history. Unlike Don Henley and Phil Collins…Grohl hits the Rock n Roll highway with both feet moving in fast forward taking anyone willing to play right along with him. In reality, he’s this generation Eric Clapton whose laundry list of bands he's created and or performed with includes my mother’s kitchen sink.



What did research say about Lou’s statement: I feel more secure if I don’t show weakness.



1 said, “Who wants to hear me cry?”



678 responded, “Being vulnerable is a willingness to not be defensive.”



2,345 reacted with, “I can be vulnerable with some but not all people at work.”



Which person are you?



As a child I never understood why Joe always came home from work upset and unwilling to talk. I assumed he hated his stepchildren so I learned the valuable art of never taking the time to get to know you. Seeing his disgruntled approach to how he was being treated at the place that financed what little roof we had over our heads…it became my mission to judge a book by its cover.



Tell me you don’t do it!



Someone you spend more time with on a daily basis than God and your spouse comes into sight in the hallway, they aren’t carrying themselves too well…how often do you duck for cover versus reaching out to share a positive thought? I don’t have enough fingers or toes to count the number of times I’ve been told to back off with my positive attitude, “I’m not in the mood for you today,” is what they say. I laugh out loud hoping that my tid bit of insanity will attack their hard surface like poison ivy and seep into their bad moment in the way of sprouting a simple unexpected smile somewhere in their day.



If you ever want to get sick to your stomach…spend fifteen minutes with me in the studio. You’ll get so high on life the rest of you will get an instant hangover.



Steal my art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Thursday, February 11, 2010

You are a single tree inside a city of very tall buildings...

We’ve all said it, “I know what I want to do with my life but it doesn’t agree with my purpose. Or…I can’t figure out what my purpose is?”



We push, kick, suddenly stop, start again, slide to the right, slide to the left, reinvent then scream at the innocent figure in the mirror, “Why can’t you play along?” And still walk back into the living room never knowing who, what, where, when and why we do what we do other than it beats getting bored.



I often wonder if we don’t mix up having dreams with searching for a purpose.



It took me nearly twenty years of on-air radio to realize my dream of reaching big markets like Los Angeles and Chicago had nothing to do with the purpose behind why I was doing it. The outer shell was completely different from the inner determination which meant the core of my efforts was fresh jelly.



How many people have you met that come across wishy washy? They have no clue as to which side of the fence to stand. Their chosen career doesn’t match who they really are. Laughingly I blame my inner core disaster on the day I openly admitted I wasn’t a Democrat or Republican…I’m from Montana therefore I can be both! Then someone said, “You are an artist…you can be different and through time we’ll learn to accept you.”



The school of hard knocks lesson learned? People tend to tolerate you not accept, so the master plan consistently changes due to one of the four daily human needs: To be or feel loved.



So, for the past eleven years I’ve set my dreams aside to make way for a purpose to sprout above the bright orange George clay and grow like Kudzu on a long and winding row of trees requiring a warm blanket for winter. The most interesting thing about a purpose is how invisible it truly is. Assumption puts us on fates playing field. Purpose is then confused with legacy.



Wouldn’t it be great if life began with an owner’s manual? The moment tears begin to stain Mom and Dad reach into the glove compartment of your itty bitty book of love and poof…all you needed was a new fuse.



Author and spiritualist Eckhart Tolle believes the outer purpose varies greatly from person to person. What I put into every radio commercial I write and produce cannot be compared to and or expected to be created by those I teach. Nobody is the same and yet bosses expect you to live like they dream.



Cranking up the heat is yet another human behavior: The outer purpose comes with no rules—it’s allowed to change and or be replaced at any time…which in part loosens up the dedication and loyalty you have toward an inner purpose. thus creating…an awakening.



You can ask me one thousand times why I elected to leave an earth shattering highly intensified boogie til you puke spin class at the gym to take up martial arts and I’ll give you a different answer every time. And with each answer I’ll shout out every reason why I need to break free of Tae Kwon Do and get back to living the path of dumbbells and dead lifts.



Having well rounded biceps and Hercules designed forearms and legs are the outer purpose demanding attention where studying martial arts pushes beyond the appearance of an ego and says, “Shut up! I have a backstage pass to your soul.”



Your inner purpose is easily intimidated by the outer decision maker. You’re convinced that nobody wants to see you as the person you really are. American culture and how we enact it is no different than walking up to the Clique counter at Belk’s and begging the woman in the white jacket to find you something new to paste to your eyelids.



There you stand all shiny and new…hundreds of dollars have been spent during a single weekend and poof…you still feel like boiled eggs that have been rotting in the sun for two weeks.



Awareness not thinking makes you complete.



People walk out of their jobs and marriages everyday because of a vibration they can’t explain—it’s too easy to think what we do is right. Becoming aware first takes too much time. We want to experience another daily human need: To feel incredible, without stress or a desire to become a professional wrestler inside a giant red white and blue ring.



Eckhart Tolle teaches us: Find out what’s not right first. Locate what doesn’t work. Put a face on the elements that make up the mood that shouts, “You’re not making me happy!” Be aware of where you stand and how you feel while folding your arms closely to your body and not being outwardly to the self you claim is on a mission yet you can’t seem to find the right fuel to remain loyal to it.



Thirty one years of radio and what’s my purpose? To inspire not a group, squad, herd or gaggle…but instead just one person to take a writing instrument and place it in their hand…once there…listen to the wind then write about it. Only in the beginning you feel everything might be written about you until an unknown passerby happens to cross your path describing something you wrote in chapters past and through you another sip of inspiration was passed like that of a messenger.



Try fitting that over a seven second intro of a Michael Buble song and you’ll quickly see why getting to Los Angeles and Chicago no longer carries an ounce of importance. I’d do anything to get those twenty years of my life back.



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

What if Abe Lincoln had Face Book?

Talk! We love talk! Talking motivates us. Talk is a valuable source of information. Talk is cheap unless you’re part of a morning radio show. Too much talk sounds like a hen house back home on the farm in Montana. Talk comes with two faces, it’s something you can participate with or just sit back and listen.


Some of the big talk this week:


1. The Super Bowl! The game was great but the commercials were created by marketing wanna-be’s from Rawlins, Wyoming.

2. Donald Trump telling Jay Leno, “You’re fired!”

3. Dear John from Nicholas Sparks finally knocks Avatar off the top of the movie charts.

4. Thank God we don’t live up north where it won’t stop snowing and blowing!

5. Ellen makes her debut appearance on American Idol.


All have made waves, some bigger than others…but nothing compared to the biggest of the big talk of the week: What was Face Book thinking when they elected to change your home page?


Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to Corporate America. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with a CEO making sure his talk was heard.

The greatest invention since the creation of hospitals is the next best thing…Face Book, millions and one day billions more than McDonald’s will arrive daily to mentally heal and be satisfied through the companionship a web service offers but just like the medical industry…you can talk and talk and talk about how much you hate and hate but in the end you’re wasting tremendous amounts of energy on something you can’t change.


Face Book is like your doctor…they love, love love you! But they don’t care! Sure there are those in the world of medicine who hold your hand and gently explain but the moment your check bounces, the payment is late or the insurance card has changed…oh baby your doctor and favorite nurse have sent in the paperwork for a medical divorce.


Face Book is no different. Seriously! Let’s put on our business caps…they ain’t making money off your addiction. 500 million FB friends and the kingpin behind this business plan is thinking, “How the heck did James Cameron make 2 billion bucks inside two months with Avatar and we’re getting nothing?”


James Cameron made more than movie history. He’s proved to Corporate America that you have money and my oh my are you ready to spend it. Bad unemployment rate, near bankruptcy, horrible medical condition…Wall Street might be stumbling but you know where the key is to that secret stash of cha-ching and big business U.S.A. is getting tired of making everything free.


I can’t help but compare Face Book’s financial crisis to that of our United States government with the legalization of pot…if you build it, they will come but there’s nobody at the door to collect the junk to put in their banking trunk. FB is the greatest legal high this side of the invention of Napster in the 90’s. You mean we can download our favorite songs free? Thank you Jesus!


The repercussions of that valuable hunk of common man wins it all continues to be felt. While most of us totally ignored the business world and its devilish dealings in late January…our government approved the merger of Ticketmaster and Live Nation. We are living and breathing Rock n Roll history—where the artists and big business have taken from the normal fighting hard to stay alive person the power of choice.


Irving Azoff promises lower ticket prices—this summer you can check out The Eagles for $30 a ticket but he failed to mention what the service charges would be. Bono and U2 call this merger the greatest creation to all alive today because independent promoters no longer have to go out of business putting more artists and musicians in the line that reads, “Will work for money.”


I’m not complaining about the big combination. I quit going to concerts five years ago. Nothing says total entertainment more than a DVD you can pause because the beer you’re gulping down is working its way through your old man body too, too fast. On my way back to the surround sound powered by Bose, a quick stop by the fridge to grab something to eat won’t cost me 20 bucks I barely made at work.


Face Book made another change. It feels like it happens everyday. If you really want to complain go back to My Space. Be a leader and get on Google and find the next place to be taken away by the ultimate high. Face Book isn’t listening because they’ve got to make money or you’re going to wake up and the sugar daddy isn’t going to come home for dinner anymore.


We stopped complaining about the high price of gas. We’ve stopped being irritated by the cost of cell phones and text messaging. We absolutely refuse to complain about how every Nickleback song sounds the same. Heard a newscaster offer their opinion this past weekend about Sarah Palin’s walk across America and how she’s stirring up the pot and could be creating this nations first revolution in two hundred plus years.


Not going to happen…we're conditioned to stop complaining inside two weeks. If it has nothing to do with American Idol...you lost me at, "Hello."

Life during these modern times is like doing The Electric Slide…pop it on and suddenly the entire floor comes to life. Take it off and people can’t wait until the DJ plays The Cha Cha Slide…once done, they beg to hear The Cupid Shuffle then the YMCA.


Face Book is nothing more than a fad and we’re falling for it. The least we could do is donate a dollar to keep them in business. Where is George Clooney to save their face?


Save your energy…if you’re going to complain…introduce a solution. Trust me 500,000 million friends will follow.


arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

You are legally high and getting away with it....

Openly we speak…daily blogs, texting, tweeting and podcasting—I call them Common Man Broadcasting 101. Emails, Skype, You Tube and My Space…we love it when something we’re doing is getting attention. Ask my trucker friend Brad who laughs and laughs and laughs about the videos he painlessly edits easily connecting him to over 500,000 hits a piece.



I’d fall over in Oscar Award Winning Halle Berry tears if 500,000 people all of sudden elected to tune into my radio show. That’s over 7 million dollars in Avatar Imax 3D money!



Barely twenty years ago, the common everyday voice was picked up and tossed into the mounting masses via the Opinion section of a local newspaper, radio morning show seeking listener participation, standing on a soapbox at church or connecting five farming families on the same out in the country party line.



It’s not that we haven’t wanted to say something—getting to a willing listener has been the mountain.



Removing one stone at a time from its highest peak was a humble leader who never became President of a nation. Yet he communicated with everyone as if he were. Historians call Benjamin Franklyn the worlds first Blogger. He wasn’t hired by the local rag. There were no tin cans on a thin string radio station broadcasts. Ben may have been fried by lightning while flying a kite but there were no television cameras to document it. So, our Great, Great, Great Grand Parents relied on his daily writing to which he printed then sent out.



About ten to fifteen times a year I’m invited to break bread with hundreds of up-and-coming Broadcasters—for several hours we do nothing more than share conversation about an industry dedicated to being this nations voice, entertainment and educator. In every cluster of visitors there’s always someone who wants to land a gig inside these chapters because of a burning desire to speak up and out.



I remember Tom the station program director looking at me with bewilderment the day I firmly stated in an air-check session, “I honestly believe my path is taking me toward Talk Radio.”



“You have to have something to talk about first…” his only comment.



Blunt, to the point, painfully honest with an impact that totally shut down my dream of being something other than a voice between the records. He was right! At the horribly old age of thirty…what would I bring to a two speaker stage that would attract 10 new listeners a day? Five shows a week…52 weeks equals twenty six hundred new listeners a year. Let’s be honest…for some stations that’s just down right the biggest show since CSI.



Having a voice is great! Locating a following can be the beginning of the end. Those attempting to make waves do so by putting energy in moments that motivate you, be it politics, Corporate American corruption, Hollywood glitz and glamour, potty mouth talk, the Stock Market to hawking cigars. There’s so much talk and talk and talk that it’s inspired over 500 million of us to be full fledged Face Book members. Holy cow we finally belong to something! We are loved! We are accepted!



Step back three feet from your computer screen and take note of what’s being written…



We’ve become so addicted to self help and motivation that we’ve now turned to each other. The afternoon quickie has become two horribly misspelled and badly punctuated sentences. The web is cotton candy and we can’t get enough of the sugar rush.



Being a Broadcaster…I can’t stop there. My real mission in life is to be the silent wolf—the watcher, note taker, the vividly clear but often times too poetic communicator who stops for a moment to view his surroundings and sees a village quickly turning into a pillar of salt.



New research shows that its time to stop telling coworkers, family members and friends to take a chill pill or lap up a pot of coffee. The once assumed instant high those beans delivered aren’t fast enough anymore. Our pursuit to hold a fair amount of self esteem comes in a tiny box with a screen attached. It doesn’t matter what’s being typed onto the pages we keep…attention is all we seek. A place to let our inner voice be heard.



One problem…like any addiction the journey toward collecting tweets, text messages and emails has made people brittle and nervous. We are winning the wrong prize. Being lifted on a daily if not hourly basis destroys personal goals and the willingness to conquer them. Relationships are hindered leading to friendships completely falling apart.



Just because you have 750 Face Book friends doesn’t make you a people person.



I love what author Lou Solomon writes, “Real confidence is not about feeling great about ourselves and being a big deal. It’s about knowing that acting like a big deal is completely unnecessary.”



I instantly erase emails that offer a compliment. I see it as cheating. If I’m getting a high off someone’s thoughts I’m not being true to myself…therefore it’s an emotional love affair. It’s too easy to fall into a vat of fat and call it honey. When reality wakes you up…its back to being fat.



Lou Solomon offers these four rules to keeping real:



I will tell you what I know from experience but I don’t know everything.
I stand for certain beliefs but I don’t believe I am better than anyone else.
I am interested in what you think.
I am open to consider a new perspective.


I’ve never smoked pot…but I know from a distance that if the state of California legalizes the drug 98% of this nation won’t care because a web high is far greater and longer lasting and although it may shatter a marriage research has yet to prove that it destroys brain cells.



Making someone’s day is a beautiful thing…don’t become their pusher.



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Monday, February 8, 2010

Knock! Knock! Knock!

I should’ve learned something in 1991…when important news happens—expect no reaction until its been chewed twenty times on both sides then swallowed.



My normal time of arrival was 2:45 to host a radio morning show that began at 5:30…it didn’t matter how cold the wind blew, before any steamy cup of coffee was poured into a often washed but deeply stained cup the tiny television positioned perfectly on a desk rumored to have once been used by legendary jock Jay Thomas had to be cranked up to see what might have happened during the moments of home departure to radio station arrival.



The daily goal was to participate with an audience nearing a million plus. It wasn’t a choice but a requirement to be completely in tune with more than just the time and temperature. Andrew Ashwood wanted me to be my listener’s second skin. We had to be in sync and being behind allowed others to make a bigger better wave.



On this particular morning being ahead of the game proved to be encouraging but not engaging. Word broke quickly; the Soviet Union was no more. Wasting no time, I slammed open the telephone lines—I wanted a reaction and got nothing. I remember looking at my producer Chris Beck and sharply questioning his skills, “Are the phones on? The Soviet Union is no more and you’re telling me American’s don’t have anything to say about it!”



These were the days before the internet was beamed into every on-air studio—we show prepped using USA Today and Good Morning America…so instant access to worldly events was almost null and void—although most stations came equipped with teletypes in the news room locked onto Washington, Paris and Moscow…due to the state of the economy and unfavorable financial conditions management elected to toss that system out.



Getting news wasn’t cheap in 1991. In times of struggle, the decision to dump the only connection you to have the present can easily be compared to a modern family deciding if we’re having slider burgers or Mom is frying six eggs to be divided between nine kids.



Getting no reaction from radio listeners has haunted my past nineteen years of radio. In every lecture I’ve shared on the campuses of many university and schools of broadcasting, the decision to toss out the stations morning show music format to seize control of what I assumed was breaking news made me realize how far I truly was in not being a listener’s second skin. I had come face to face with being out of tune.



This was before the Rush invasion of AM radio—political talk was just coming out and the only thing morning radio shows presented were thirty second stages for listeners to tell a joke or for us to make fun of you like Simon Cowell does on American Idol.



Last nights Super Bowl put me right back in those shoes of 1991.



Because I had received a major reaction from blogging live on Face Book for the Grammy’s…my oversized Broadcaster’s ego assumed being there to talk about those infamous commercials before morning radio shows got a hold of you the following day would serve as great Sunday night entertainment.



Busted! Only a few caught on. To whom I lost in the third quarter when The Saints turned the game into a one point play. Reaction was limited and usually came between the downs and if communication was connected it had nothing to do with the origin of why I elected to stay on Face Book for four unheard of hours. My page was filled with horrified Colt’s fans and overly excited newly discovered Saints saviors. Fans of the sport were hooked to their flat screens like a magnet making out with metal.



Real radio people never sleep...in an age of constant change and no limits on how the word is being delivered, the mind raced to locate the whereabouts of the X and Y Generation, lightly salted with Baby Boomers that magazines and newspapers claim are completely addicted to their I-Phones, Blackberry’s and laptops. My attempt to broadcast without the aid of antennas and formats still has me light years from realities bite.



I failed to let you digest. Which is a nightmarish comment to make—look how often the five and six o’clock news casts blast their way into your life with earth shattering stories. If they were forced to peacefully wait while the rest of the world catches up…we’d only be talking to those who just discovered The Cupid Shuffle. Been out two years…many are doing it for the first time.



What is the current pace and pattern of the modern day traveler? Companies are spending millions of dollars trying to locate who and where you are. As much as we want to believe the internet is everywhere and everything to the masses…it’s proving to still be a toy. Which in the long run is incredible—not being on Face Book meant you were spending real time with real friends and face to face conversation is so much more important than tap, tap, tap then hit send.



This morning the email system was caked with over 350 separate reactions and a note that said, “You can’t have any more until you dump.” Basically meaning, I jumped from a pool of water still dressed in tadpole clothes.



I know you’re there…figuring out a way to get to you is the Broadcaster in me. See you at the Oscars!



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Knock! Knock! Knock!

I should’ve learned something in 1991…when important news happens—expect no reaction until its been chewed twenty times on both sides then swallowed.



My normal time of arrival was 2:45 to host a radio morning show that began at 5:30…it didn’t matter how cold the wind blew, before any steamy cup of coffee was poured into a often washed but deeply stained cup the tiny television positioned perfectly on a desk rumored to have once been used by legendary jock Jay Thomas had to be cranked up to see what might have happened during the moments of home departure to radio station arrival.



The daily goal was to participate with an audience nearing a million plus. It wasn’t a choice but a requirement to be completely in tune with more than just the time and temperature. Andrew Ashwood wanted me to be my listener’s second skin. We had to be in sync and being behind allowed others to make a bigger better wave.



On this particular morning being ahead of the game proved to be encouraging but not engaging. Word broke quickly; the Soviet Union was no more. Wasting no time, I slammed open the telephone lines—I wanted a reaction and got nothing. I remember looking at my producer Chris Beck and sharply questioning his skills, “Are the phones on? The Soviet Union is no more and you’re telling me American’s don’t have anything to say about it!”



These were the days before the internet was beamed into every on-air studio—we show prepped using USA Today and Good Morning America…so instant access to worldly events was almost null and void—although most stations came equipped with teletypes in the news room locked onto Washington, Paris and Moscow…due to the state of the economy and unfavorable financial conditions management elected to toss that system out.



Getting news wasn’t cheap in 1991. In times of struggle, the decision to dump the only connection you to have the present can easily be compared to a modern family deciding if we’re having slider burgers or Mom is frying six eggs to be divided between nine kids.



Getting no reaction from radio listeners has haunted my past nineteen years of radio. In every lecture I’ve shared on the campuses of many university and schools of broadcasting, the decision to toss out the stations morning show music format to seize control of what I assumed was breaking news made me realize how far I truly was in not being a listener’s second skin. I had come face to face with being out of tune.



This was before the Rush invasion of AM radio—political talk was just coming out and the only thing morning radio shows presented were thirty second stages for listeners to tell a joke or for us to make fun of you like Simon Cowell does on American Idol.



Last nights Super Bowl put me right back in those shoes of 1991.



Because I had received a major reaction from blogging live on Face Book for the Grammy’s…my oversized Broadcaster’s ego assumed being there to talk about those infamous commercials before morning radio shows got a hold of you the following day would serve as great Sunday night entertainment.



Busted! Only a few caught on. To whom I lost in the third quarter when The Saints turned the game into a one point play. Reaction was limited and usually came between the downs and if communication was connected it had nothing to do with the origin of why I elected to stay on Face Book for four unheard of hours. My page was filled with horrified Colt’s fans and overly excited newly discovered Saints saviors. Fans of the sport were hooked to their flat screens like a magnet making out with metal.



Real radio people never sleep...in an age of constant change and no limits on how the word is being delivered, the mind raced to locate the whereabouts of the X and Y Generation, lightly salted with Baby Boomers that magazines and newspapers claim are completely addicted to their I-Phones, Blackberry’s and laptops. My attempt to broadcast without the aid of antennas and formats still has me light years from realities bite.



I failed to let you digest. Which is a nightmarish comment to make—look how often the five and six o’clock news casts blast their way into your life with earth shattering stories. If they were forced to peacefully wait while the rest of the world catches up…we’d only be talking to those who just discovered The Cupid Shuffle. Been out two years…many are doing it for the first time.



What is the current pace and pattern of the modern day traveler? Companies are spending millions of dollars trying to locate who and where you are. As much as we want to believe the internet is everywhere and everything to the masses…it’s proving to still be a toy. Which in the long run is incredible—not being on Face Book meant you were spending real time with real friends and face to face conversation is so much more important than tap, tap, tap then hit send.



This morning the email system was caked with over 350 separate reactions and a note that said, “You can’t have any more until you dump.” Basically meaning, I jumped from a pool of water still dressed in tadpole clothes.



I know you’re there…figuring out a way to get to you is the Broadcaster in me. See you at the Oscars!



arroecollins@clearchannel.com

Friday, February 5, 2010

Coupon use will make you feel like a champion if...

Not to harp on these tougher than dirt modern times but the best thing to come out of Corporate America’s struggle to survive is a perfectly printed buy one get one free lunch or dinner. Nothing says yummy for the tummy more than knowing one of you is eating on the house.



Such pieces of paper are perfect for families on a serious budget, best friend nights out, your personal journey to discover new tastes and treats and more importantly for business people who are set inside situations where taking care of a client is top priority—that means you owe me something to eat.



Had these chunks of cha-ching savings devices been invented during my early days of radio…I’d still be in charge of the music.



I didn’t survive a year as music director—nothing makes me feel guiltier than knowing the tab is on someone else. I remember telling a record rep, “You’re wasting my time…and more importantly my space. Save your efforts for someone who’s easily sold during such a purchase. I need to get back to the world of radio where making a difference has nothing to do with mashed potatoes and Michael Bolton.”



I honestly believe the situation would’ve been different if the record rep used a buy one get one free coupon then split the cost. In doing research on such embarrassing behavior, I learned my “not for sale” attitude isn’t alone and that a stronger relationship is capable of being created if paying your own way is the understandable game.



Decision makers who walk through life expecting people to buy them lunch end up eating alone when the name tag falls off the company door. The last thing I wanted to hear coming through that mid-1980’s cell phone in a box was, “Dude we had thick steaks the other night…give me a couple more Madonna spins.”



Because of economic conditions the “suck up to the client” approach to building a solid line between each others pockets has changed not a little but a lot. Most companies can’t afford the dollar menu at McDonalds. They elect instead to scan the mail, newspaper and magazines for incredible BOFO’s…buy one get one free offers.



But how do you creatively introduce this hot idea to a potential client? What you don’t want to do is look desperate, “Hey Bob…um…make sure you order a sandwich and a soft drink…sweet tea doesn’t count.”



According to Anne Marie Sabbath, the Queen of business manners and ethics you’ve got to step up to the plate and display some good business leadership, “Hey Mike, I scored a buy one get one free from Build a Better Burger—wanna go in with me? We’ll split the cost and still come out looking better than our nations banking system.”



Warning: If you truly want to impress your potential client or friend…make sure you tip on what the entire bill would’ve cost. The wait staff should never be put on a buy one get one free budget.


Ok…so what happens if the person treating you to lunch or dinner is a bad tipper? Is there a good way to handle it or should you quickly run the moment you’re excused from the table? Who wants to look into the eyes of a food server barely making $2.25 an hour when Captain Business man just laid out a few coins and no dollars?



I grew up in the restaurant world—The Muzzle Loader Café in Billings, Montana. I cleaned tables to afford my passion for air hockey and late night bowling. Nothing torched my soul more than having conversation with a waitress who received pennies from the fat farmer with a full tummy. This is why you’ll see me physically get up and casually walk to the employee of the restaurant and share with them the tip. Dinner isn’t Easter…they shouldn’t have to search for something they’ve earned.



When locked in an uncaring situation where the coworker, boss or client didn’t drop enough on the table, walk with them toward the door than instantly remember you forgot something at the table. Guess who’ll never forget your decision to go back and make it a better tip? Waiters and waitresses are like elephants…they never forget.



I’m always accused of knowing way too many people…that’s because wherever I go I take the time to talk to everyone including the Sushi Chef stuck behind a wall of glass. If you want to impress a client, get to know the people behind the scenes. Nothing says importance more than a busboy or secondary server coming up to you to ask, “How is your spouse? Or…it’s incredible to see you again.”



Winning a ratings race isn’t always for radio and television. How you treat people affects everyone. Shake hands, bump fists, make more than eye contact…share real conversation…ask about the bracelet your waitress is wearing. Take the time to notice them and they’ll always remember you.



Restaurant customers should come with ratings numbers too…Johnny is wearing the number 83. That means he only tips when he’s trying to impress a lady. Look at Kevin the Dodge Ball Champion—he’s got a 99.9…holy cow, we have someone who honestly gives a rats tail about those who make up his circle of success.



Steal his art…



arroecollins@clearchannel.com