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We interview Don Nguyen in this special episode solely dedicated to Asian cuisine. Just a few of the things we talk about include, the evolution of Asian cuisine, hidden gem hole in the wall local Asian eateries, fish sauce, myriad types of soy sauce, Asian cooking, why there is no cheese in Asian cuisine, or is there?, and a whole lot more in this extended longest episode ever on all things Asian cuisine. After Don, we make Korean BBQ with the flank steak from St. Pete Meat & Provisions.

Twenty minutes and a 175 page book changed my life tonight.  I broke up with Peter Kent yesterday and chose to avoid him until he had some time to cool down and collect his thoughts.  I came home today after morning services hoping that we could talk reasonably and settle the matter of his moving out, but he still has not come home, called or emailed.  I felt compelled to read a book I just bought called “Only Love Is Real” by Brian L. Weiss, M.D. even though it was not next on my list.   Weiss spoke of how soul mates recognize each other when they look into each other's eyes and sometimes even before that.  I thought of  my boyfriend's words from his profile, “My spirit will know her when we meet”.  I loved him from that day and was sure he was my soul mate.  Meeting him threw me off, because his eyes seemed veiled to me, like he was hiding something.  His words struck chords that my soul had longed to hear again, but his eyes were always distant somehow.  Only recently have I felt that I could see him, or that he was seeing me, when our eyes met, but by then the damage had been done to my trust and it was too late.   The book mentioned chronic pain and without my boyfriend in my life I have found myself fearful of reverting to the bone crushing headaches, the agonizing menstrual pain and the paralyzing pain in my lower, middle back.  How would I cope with this pain without my boyfriend's skills as a Chiropractor and Acupuncturist to relieve it?  Dr. Weiss suggested that chronic pain is often the result of a previous life injury and is sort of a reminder to remember who we were and why we are here now.   I looked around the room at the Icart's on the wall and the flair for the 1920's and 1930's that pervades my life in choices of clothing, art, furniture and cars.  I remembered the reoccurring dream of committing suicide by driving my convertible at top speed into the rock face at the top of a mountain road.  I remember the impact, feeling the steering column crush into my abdomen and through me.  I remember the bone crushing impact of my head with the dash and collapsing windshield.  I remember the anger of having been jilted and swearing that no man would ever do that to me again.  I was arrogant, superficial, wealthy and full of anger at having been betrayed.  I couldn't cope with the feelings and took my own life with a sense of indignant revenge.  The dream ends with me floating above my body, incredulous at my self destruction.  I have had the dream many times and since my amnesia even wondered if it happened in this life and I had survived.   That could explain volumes.  It would probably be my most recent death and would explain all of my pain.  The car I loved most in the world was a 1937 Mercedes Gazelle convertible that Don bought for me.  Don was born the year that type of car was new.  I loved that car like I have never loved any possession.  I drove it so carefully and loved the feel of the wind in my hair.  I had a similar one before, but it didn't “feel” right and I sold it in only a month or two.  After Don's disappearance, I was selling off the equipment and cars and one of the dealers kept pestering me to sell him my little roadster.  I finally did and rationalized to myself that I would have killed myself in it anyway.  It was a kit car on a Taurus frame, with a VW engine.  I drove it like a little old lady.  What would have possessed me to think such a thing or to part with the car I loved so much?   The author went on to tell how he regressed patients through past lives using a hall with doors on either side and he would tell his client that each door represented a life or an important memory.  He would instruct them to wait until a door opened and then go through it and look at their shoes.  From there they would describe themselves and then the relevant scene that was unfolding.   I have been told that you can't meditate with an agenda and that whatever is most important will happen of its own accord, but thinking myself more disciplined, I figured I could go back to the moments before the crash and figure out where the rage came from and what I could learn from the scene.  I went out to the hot tub hoping the warmth of the water would enhance that in utero passage, but the filter motor was on and annoying me.  I couldn't concentrate.  I walked myself down the familiar 15 steps, but this time they were much broader than they have been while I was in hypnotherapy with Herb Hamilton.  I stood in the hall, waiting for a door to open for what seemed eons, but the filter was drawing my attention away and I was about to give up when the last door on the right opened.  I ran for it and looked at my feet.   I still had ugly feet but these were dirtier and more tan.  They were more even toed than mine and they were bound in twine like sandals.  My hair was black and long and I wore a white dress that looked like a sheet tied with a rope at the waist.  I looked up and saw the coliseum full of drunken spectators.  They were blood thirsty and screaming.  My hands were bound and my feet were shackled such that I could walk, but not freely.  I was tied to several others who were garbed like me.  There were men, women and children of all ages.   We were Christians and these Romans hated us.  They didn't understand us.  One on one, we could reach them with the Truth, but in howling masses like this there was no hope for them.  I knew we were here to be killed by lions, but I was at peace.  I knew what was on the other side and this moment would be brief and painless.  My loved ones were not with me and I had no thought about those I would be leaving behind.  Perhaps there were none.  The others were afraid and tried to run, pulling each other down.  The children were the first to fall and the lions dove in for them first, ripping them apart.  My heart went out to the children in their fear but also to the cats that had been starved and tortured to insure that they would do their job this day.  I saw others in the group being mauled and ripped limb from limb.  Although I was attached to them, I was not pulled down.  I knew to stay face to face with the great cats and to not let them get behind me.  (How did I know that?) A huge male was snarling menacingly just inches from my face, but I did not back away.  I dropped my gaze in submission to let him know that I was not his aggressor.  The lionesses and another male circled me.   I heard Susan Aronoff's words, “Look into her eyes…she's an old soul.”  I looked up and saw Sarabi looking back at me with all of the love that she looks at me with now.  She was there to let me know that I was not alone.   I looked for Mufasa.  I knew he would be here too, and he was.  His eyes spoke the same comfort to me.  I had done my job, this life was over and they were here to see me to the other side.  I turned my back on the aggressive lion and stared back with recognition and appreciation at Sarabi.  The angry lion took my neck into his great jowls and with one quick and painless thrust of his canines through my neck and spinal cord my spirit was released.  (I broke my neck in an auto accident when I was 16).   I began to cry, gently at first for the loving spirits that they were to see me through, but then I thought of Mufasa's death.  I had ridden in the back of my pick up in his cage with him all the way from Tampa to Gainesville.  I held him closely, my face buried in his mane.  I told him I would be there for him.  I knew I was going to lose him, even though he was only supposed to be going in for X-rays.  I stayed with him until he was asleep, under anesthesia.  The vets made me leave him there that night and I got the call the next morning that he was dead.  My tears now became more violent as I cursed myself for not staying with him like he had done for me.  I knew before the call that he was dead.  He had come to me to let me know, just minutes before.   Susan might be the most unenlightened person I have ever met, but her words ring in my ears every time I see a photo of Sarabi and Mufasa and every time I look into Sarabi's eyes.  The lesson in that is that even the dullest person has reason for his or her existence and that no one should be discounted.  It is ironic to note that Sarabi was chosen as the cat most closely resembling the extinct Barbary Lion when the King of Morocco sent Wildlink to the U.S. to look at 327 lions in zoos across the nation.  They only selected two for the reintroduction program and Sarabi was the female.  I thought it strange that the rarest cat in the world would be living here on Easy Street.  The Barbary Lions were the cats used to kill Christians in Rome.   I remembered the grief that Sarabi went through when Mufasa did not return.  She had strength and will beyond description to break free of her half-acre cage to go to him.  I could not console her.  We grieved together, but maybe her more so, because I think she was the more enlightened soul.  I remembered how both of them always hugged my neck so tightly, as if they never wanted to let go.  I thought back to the day Sarabi nearly killed me by accident when she hugged me around the chest, instead of my neck, and I couldn't breathe.  That was the last time I went in with her and I have missed her hugs more than any human touch that I have ever encountered.   My tears then came as great heaving sobs.  I hardly recognized my own voice as I wailed.  How I love them both!   How horrible that this beautiful spirit is confined to a prison cell her entire life, separated from her soul mate and only able to make contact with me at my discretion.  I thought of all the wondrous spirits of all the cats that I have felt such a strong connection with.   I wondered if we have been lovers, parent and child or siblings over the eons and now they are confined to live out their majesty in the confines of a prison with no hope of release and no hope of ever being able to connect with the others that they too have loved.  And those are just the cats I know.  What about all of the cats that I look at, and love, but do not recognize?  What lives have they given up to teach us the importance of love, compassion, respect and responsibility?   I am confined to only seeing cats with this ability.  What of all the animals?  All of them here at our pleasure, some to be eaten, others to be worn, others to be killed for sport, others to be gawked at in zoos and entertainment, some to endure the misery of research, others to be abandoned as pets…  The list of ways that we are cruel are endless.   All of this happened in 20 minutes, but it forever changed the way I see these animals and it strengthened my resolve to see to it that the lesson they have to teach is heard.   I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/   I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.     You can help feed the cats at no cost to you using Amazon Smile! Visit BigCatRescue.org/Amazon-smile   You can see photos, videos and more, updated daily at BigCatRescue.org   Check out our main channel at YouTube.com/BigCatRescue   Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only and is my opinion.

Writing From the Future With Evidence From 1996-1997 I am writing this on 12/18/2020 because I have been researching all of the files from 1996-1997 involving Don Lewis.  I have placed it here, on the day of his disappearance, because all of it transpired prior to this day, and in some cases, where documents are not dated, I don't have a better guess.  I think this will explain the last thing Don Lewis apparently said to Kenny Farr, which was, “If I pull this off, it will be the slickest thing I ever did!” This story goes a long way back, but it's pretty interesting and gives great insight as to the kind of persons that Don and Joe were and what was happening right as Don disappeared.  To the best of what I can find in my files and online, Don and I bought 11509 Sligh Avenue, Tampa, FL on 7/18/90 at a foreclosure or tax deed sale.  It had been a cock fighting ring and Don wanted me to convert it to a women's mud wrastlin' [sic] pit.  I refused and Don sold it on a lease option to Joe Ryan.  (Joseph George Ryan SS# 436)  On 5/31/1994 Lazy Days RV Center, Inc., brought suit against Don and Joe for specific performance in case 94-CA-003672 for the sale of this property.     The following is based on what Don told me and some of the evidence I have found, including Joe Ryan's deposition in 98-7799-F where he sued the Conservatorship for more money after already having been paid $70,000 for a property he never owned, to settle the Lazy Days case.   Don sold the property to Joe Ryan on a lease option whereby Joe would pay $5000. of the taxes on the property and a monthly lease fee and if he made 12 on time we would deed the property to him and take back a mortgage.  Joe Ryan's depo says he was buying it from us for $50,600.00 on time.   We already knew Joe Ryan wasn't good for his word because he had a similar agreement with Don on the “Seffner farm” property where Don had carved out a parcel and on the lake and Joe was building his dream home, but fell on hard times financially and never got past the inner studs of the house inside its shell.  We took that property back and the house was later demolished in 2006 by the new owners who turned the Seffner farm into a subdivision.     Lazy Days wanted to build their huge RV center in the area and sent out scouts to buy up the little lots without letting anyone know who the real buyer was to keep the prices low.  They offered Joe more money than he owed us so he signed an agreement to sell to them at a price of $60k, I believe, based on Joe Ryan's deposition.  After agreeing to the sale amount by contract, Joe Ryan discovered the buyer was Lazy Days and Joe thought he could get a lot more for the property if he could get Don Lewis to nix the deal by showing what was true: Joe Ryan didn't own the property yet because he had not been making his payments and was in default.     Don then apparently went to Lazy Days and offered to sell it to them for $225,000.00 but he told Joe Ryan that he only got $131,000.00 from it so he wouldn't have to honor his agreement (which the deposition implies was signed by Anne McQueen, not Don, but Joe Ryan said Anne signed Don's name all the time on things)  to give Joe Ryan everything above $60,000.00 that he would get from the sale.  The way Don was scheming to do this without Joe Ryan knowing what the real sales price had been was to sell the property to WITCO which was a corporation Don set up in Costa Rica.  Then WITCO would do the transaction with Lazy Days after Joe Ryan thought the property had changed hands and he was getting the excess proceeds based on what he said Don had told him and Anne had signed with him.    The way Don was getting $94,000.00 more than what Joe Ryan knew about was that Don had written into the agreement with Lazy Days that in addition to the $131,000.00 they would have to make a payment of 94k to Wildlife on Easy Street, Inc., as his “charity of choice”  and they agreed.  I can't find how much we paid for the property in 1990 but I think it's fair to estimate that it was about half of what we sold it to Joe Ryan for and now Don was closing in on a sale for 10 times what he'd paid for it.  Don had not made a good business decision or property sale in the past four or five years before his disappearance, so if Don had pulled this off, it truly would have been the “slickest thing” he ever did.  Of all the properties we had ever bought and sold, I think this would have been in the top 5 based on the amount and equity.     This sounds pretty simple, but it was raging on in court from 1994 until 11/5/1997 (3 months AFTER Don disappeared) when I settled with Lazy Days and sold the property to them.  At the time of Don's disappearance he had been over paying for properties in Costa Rica and his only income had been in a few hundred, here or there, on selling cars, motorcycles, guns and such.  Also at this time Don was having Anne run ads in the Tico Times advertising to buy endangered species of exotic cats for his new sanctuary that he planned to set up on the 200 ac farm in Bagaces, Costa Rica.  I don't know if he planned to give me the $94k for our Tampa location, or because he was an officer of Wildlife on Easy Street, Inc., maybe he figured he could just cash the check and not tell me anything about what he'd been doing in the Lazy Days deal.  Regardless, this truly would have been the biggest deal Don had ever done other than selling the 600 acres in Pasco county out from under me to Mr. Sultanfuss.  That was a mortgage though and not cash in hand like this one, so I think that's why Don was so thrilled with himself.    On July 16, 1997 Don faxed Roger Petersen, Esq. saying, “I also have signed the contract with Lazy Days RV, you can do whatever is necessary to complete this, but under no circumstances reveal who the shareholder is.  Please fax any contracts to my office for approval prior to faxing to Ms. Bennett.  Once every thing is done you can fax to her but the originals are to be overnighted to me and I will take them to closing.  Nothing else is to be discussed with Ms. Bennett.  Should you have any questions, please call my office and Anne will get me on the phone.”  In the court case summary sheet there is mention of a Terryn H Bennett, but I am not sure who she was.     On 8/12/1997 (just 6 days before he went missing) Don had Anne fax Roger Petersen, Esquire saying, “Please call me collect when you get into your office, I need to talk to you about the WITCO papers.  The call will not be accepted, but my office will get me to the phone and I will call you right back.”  This is included in the dated faxes above.  In the Lazy Days lawsuit there were motions to dismiss by the defendants and hearings coming up where documents were to be produced.  Don was saying he had lost his WITCO paperwork and was likely stalling.    The fax below is the last fax I have found from Don to Roger Petersen and it is dated 8/15/1997 and is talking about what he was going to ship to Costa Rica inside the Iveco box truck.   I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/   I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.     You can help feed the cats at no cost to you using Amazon Smile! Visit BigCatRescue.org/Amazon-smile   You can see photos, videos and more, updated daily at BigCatRescue.org   Check out our main channel at YouTube.com/BigCatRescue   Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only and is my opinion.

Construction isn’t always a one-way career. The lessons and professional experience the construction industry provides is sometimes the building blocks before another career. This is exactly the case for my guest in today’s episode, Don Martin. Although Don and I played baseball on the Temple University team together, both went into construction after college, both became podcast hosts, our careers turned out very different. After Don’s time in construction, he found his passion in educating, mentoring, investing, professional speaking, business coaching, and marketing specialists. In this episode, Don and I cover his background in construction, his network marketing success, and how construction helped him in his business ventures. Tune in to Episode 7 to learn how construction can teach lessons to grow success in all careers!Some Questions I Ask Why did you choose to go to Temple University? (2:22)What have you done in construction and how has it propelled your career? (4:10)How did you get involved in network marketing and DMJ International? (19:00)What exactly is DMJ International? (25:26)What is the platform Shop.com? (27:00)What can Shop.com do for someone? (30:06)How has COVID19 impacted your business? (34:07)Would your biggest competition be Amazon? (39:34)How did starting in construction help you on your current path? (42:15)What are you passionate about outside of work? (50:28)In This Episode You Will Learn How Don and I met (1:32)Don’s experience in construction (5:29) Why Don believes leverage is a key to wealth (8:21)Don’s experience in real estate investing (10:42)About Don’s podcast The Grynd Lyfe (12:45)What Don believes dictates if someone is successful (15:00)Why Don left construction (17:18)Why real estate is great to invest in (27:44)The difference between Amazon and Shop.com (39:50)How Don met his wife in the business (47:35)Connect with Don LinkedInShop.comDon’s Podcast - The Grynd Lyfe Let’s Connect!LinkedInInstagram TwitterMPC Builders - WebsiteMPC Builders - Facebook See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Beth Bewley founded Eufora, a professional clean beauty hair care brand, with her husband, Don in 1997. As a former television producer and owner of a video production and marketing company, she started working behind the scenes for Eufora, managing product development, education programs, and day to day operations. After Don's passing in 2015, Beth chose to step out of her comfort zone and assume the mantel of CEO. Beth's two children now work alongside her at Eufora, continuing the legacy Beth and Don started over 20 years ago. In this podcast, Melanie and Beth talk about the industry in relation to COVID-19 and provides her thoughts and insights into the effects and necessary recovery efforts in the beauty industry. For more information about Eufora and the incredible salon programs they offer, please visit www.eufora.net  

After Don takes a trip on Mother's Day, he receives a lesson in etymology and gets into the scene at The Gaslight Cafe. Roger has something for Joan, and Peggy has an idea. Follow the show on Twitter: @stillgreatpod Visit the show: stillgreatpod.com Please remember to rate and review the show! Podcast Edited by Melissa Music: Bummin on Tremelo Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

After Don takes a trip on Mother’s Day, he receives a lesson in etymology and gets into the scene at The Gaslight Cafe. Roger has something for Joan, and Peggy has an idea. Follow the show on Twitter: @stillgreatpod Visit the show: stillgreatpod.com Please remember to rate and review the show! Podcast Edited by Melissa Music: Bummin on Tremelo Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

This is a special live episode recorded at the Refrigerated Foods Association Fall Symposium at Rutgers University. Ben and Don talk to a room full of food industry professionals, most of whom know what podcast is, but who are not regular listeners to Food Safety Talk. As usual the live episode opens with a survey regarding podcasts and how much the audience knows about them. After Don briefly corrects Ben regarding the correct meaning of the word "random", Ben wants to talk about knives made out of poop, and why one might study them. After that the guys talk about food insufficiency and why people might choose to eat roadkill. They do a bit of interesting listener feedback regarding food safety risks relative to jumping off a one-story building before opening it up to questions from the audience. Audience questions relate to barf blog, the safety of sushi, and the realities of working in an actual restaurant kitchen.

Spectre patches are the story that just won't go away. After Don and Peter discuss which patches to stop installing, they cover some interesting cloud scenarios before wrapping up with a Jeopardy story for the ages.

Spectre patches are the story that just won't go away. After Don and Peter discuss which patches to stop installing, they cover some interesting cloud scenarios before wrapping up with a Jeopardy story for the ages.

Spectre patches are the story that just won't go away. After Don and Peter discuss which patches to stop installing, they cover some interesting cloud scenarios before wrapping up with a Jeopardy story for the ages.

Spectre patches are the story that just won't go away. After Don and Peter discuss which patches to stop installing, they cover some interesting cloud scenarios before wrapping up with a Jeopardy story for the ages.

Spectre patches are the story that just won't go away. After Don and Peter discuss which patches to stop installing, they cover some interesting cloud scenarios before wrapping up with a Jeopardy story for the ages.

Spectre patches are the story that just won't go away. After Don and Peter discuss which patches to stop installing, they cover some interesting cloud scenarios before wrapping up with a Jeopardy story for the ages.