Larry, Tyler & Patrick, quite a few years after woofing the dog biscuit
I was walking the dogs, and my kids. Tyler was ten, Patrick was six. We played our traditional game, “How much?” That is, how much money would it take for one of us to eat a worm, or jump into a pool of manure, or lick a dead rat. Grossed out? Of course, so were we. That was the point…and we loved it.
“How much to eat a dog biscuit?” I proposed, pulling a dog treat from my pocket. Tyler’s reply was immediate, “I will if you will, Dad!”
I popped that dog biscuit into my mouth without hesitation! The boys were shocked; the dogs stared in wonder as I chewed up their bacon liver treat. READ MORE
During the Great Depression of the middle 1930s, my dad and his brother, Roy, decided to trade a bushel of my Uncle Roy’s potatoes for a bushel of Dad’s apples when they ripened.
After visiting Uncle Roy and Aunt Edith one Sunday, as we started to leave for home, Uncle Roy said “Oh, by the way, I have your bushel of potatoes ready.”
Our car had no trunk so Uncle Roy placed them next to me on the back seat. I observed how clean and large were those potatoes. But, upon removing them from that bushel basket, we found smaller ones in the middle. When we got to the bottom, there was several inches of dirty, dinky little misshapen potatoes.READ MORE
My dad would have been 66 years old yesterday. I lost him to bone cancer seven months ago. In his eulogy I passed forward the half-dozen philosophies he taught me that shaped me into the man I am today, in the hope they might benefit those in attendance.
Darren Hardy in his father’s arms
In honor and celebration of his birthday I’d like to pass one of those philosophies forward to you. This one saved my life… and defined my life.
You might know that my parents divorced when I was only 18 months old. My mother never really wanted to be a mother (she got angry when she found out she was pregnant with me), so when they split up, she cheerfully handed me over to my dad.
My dad didn’t know what to do with me either. He was only 23 years old when I was born. He had just moved from his hometown, in the San Francisco Bay Area, to what seemed like the middle of nowhere in Albuquerque, New Mexico.