Podcasts about Bud

Špeciálny diel Godzone podcastu k roku 2026!Do dnešnej epizódy Flešbekov si Ivan zavolal Jula Slováka, riaditeľa projektu Godzone, a Jána Buca, katolíckeho kňaza a garanta projektu Godzone. Spoločne reflektujú uplynulý rok 2025 v službe Godzone a hovoria o tom, aký vplyv na ňu mal Jubilejný rok v Katolíckej cirkvi. Rozprávajú sa aj o zahraničných misiách projektu a spomínajú, ako pápež Lev XIV. v novembri uplynulého roku požehnal misiu Godzone. Zároveň sa pozerajú na budúcnosť Godzone Tour a hovoria o tom, čo by si želali zažiť v roku 2026.0:00 Úvod a predstavenie0:55 Miska otázok1:44 Preferuje Julo turistiku alebo posilňovňu?2:03 Má Julo čas starať sa sám o seba?2:32 Ktorú bankovku Julo najčastejšie používa?3:04 Čo chce Ján, aby sa hovorilo na jeho pohrebe?3:30 Kým by sa Ján chcel stať na jeden deň?4:23 Ako sa Ján najradšej modlí?6:36 Súťaž o knihu NAZERANIE: https://www.godzoneshop.sk/produkt/nazeranie-strahan-coleman/7:55 Baví Jula a Jana ešte slúžiť? Ako udržiavajú svoj oheň?13:06 Godzone a Jubilejný rok17:43 Čo ich tento rok v službe Godzone prekvapilo?25:34 Budúcnosť Godzone tour30:56 Generácie, ktorým ide o Božie kráľovstvo 33:09 Godzone u pápeža38:29 Služba v Belgicku41:34 Ako Godzone organizoval festival v Ríme44:21 Ako vyzerá budúcnosť Godzone v najbližších rokoch?49:32 Čo si želajú vidieť v roku 2026?56:47 Podpor celoročnú službu projektu Godzone! https://godzone.sk/podpora/57:19 Poďakovanie a záver

Maddy and Kenneth share their Rose, Bud, and Thorn from Season 5 and 2025 as a whole!! Thank you all for yet another AMAZING season! We can't wait to see what 2026 has in store for us and you! Enjoy!

V letošním roce oslavily České Budějovice 760 let od svého založení králem Přemyslem Otakarem II. Když jsme před deseti lety slavili 750 let od založení města, napsala jsem pro Přemysla takový text.Všechny díly podcastu Rozhlasový sloupek můžete pohodlně poslouchat v mobilní aplikaci mujRozhlas pro Android a iOS nebo na webu mujRozhlas.cz.

S koncem roku nastává tradičně čas na bilancování. Řečeno čistě řečí čísel, Český rozhlas České Budějovice letos v dopoledním vysílání ve všední dny nabídl bezmála 180 rozhovorů s hosty. Z nich jsme vybrali osm úryvků, které připomenou ta nejzajímavější a nejpoutavější povídání. Speciální silvestrovský díl připravil moderátor pořadu Dopolední host Matěj Vodička.Všechny díly podcastu Dopolední host můžete pohodlně poslouchat v mobilní aplikaci mujRozhlas pro Android a iOS nebo na webu mujRozhlas.cz.

Comedy on a TuesdayFirst, a look at the events of the day.Then, Amos ‘n' Andy, originally broadcast December 30, 1951, 74 years ago, the House Wreckers.  Sapphire has told the Kingfish, "get a job...or else!" The Kingfish and Andy are hired to demolish a porch, and proceed to do so...on the wrong house!Followed by The Great Gildersleeve, starring Harold Peary, originally broadcast on December 30, 1945, 80 years ago, on New Year's Eve.  It's New Year's Eve, and The Great Gildersleeve has no date! Then, My Favorite Husband starring Lucille Ball and Richard Denning, originally broadcast December 30, 1950, 75 years ago, Liz has the Flimjabs.   Liz wants a mink coat, but winds up with a case of the "Flimjabs" instead.Followed by Abbott and Costello, originally broadcast December 30, 1948, 77 years ago, Murder at the Radio Quiz Show.  Bud and Lou try to decide where to spend New Year's eve. Sam Shovel appears in, "The Murder At The Radio Quiz Show" or, "I've Got A Body In The Balcony, Doctor." Finally, Claudia, originally broadcast December 30, 1947, 78 years ago, Naming the Dane.   Shakespeare meets Buff: Kathryn Bard and Paul Crabtree star.Thanks to Debbie B. for supporting our podcast by using the Buy Me a Coffee function at http://classicradio.streamCheck out Professor Bees Digestive Aid at profbees.com and use my promo code WYATT to save 10% when you order! If you like what we do here, visit our friend Jay at http://radio.macinmind.com for great old-time radio shows 24 hours a day

Hour 2 of December 30, 2025 Jacob Townsend and Bud preview the Music City Bowl. Then, they talk with Voice of the Titans, Taylor Zarzour, about his wild week of broadcasting, the Titans loss to the Saints, this weekend's game in Jacksonville, and more. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Jacob Townsend and Bud talk with Voice of the Titans, Taylor Zarzour, about his wild week of broadcasting, the Titans loss to the Saints, this weekend's game in Jacksonville, and more. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hour 4 of December 30, 2025 Jacob Townsend and Bud talk about a new idea by Tre Lamb and Tulsa, along with Lincoln Riley's rebuttal to the accusations he's the blame for the pause on the Notre Dame/USC series, as well as the Pro Football Hall of Fame finalists announced. Then, they give their picks for the Music City Bowl. Also, it's time for birthdays!!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hour 3 of December 30, 2025 Jacob Townsend and Bud talk with studio sponsor, K.D. Bowen of Fanatics 101. Then, they talk about the James Nnaji situation. Also, preview ETSU's road trip to The Citadel. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Bohatý na události i úspěchy – takový byl rok 2025 z pohledu jihočeského sportu. České Budějovice pořádaly mistrovství světa v ledním hokeji žen, které zaznamenalo divácký rekord. V květnu se pak na jihu Čech odehrál třeba také světový šampionát v muškaření. Nechyběl ani tradiční českobudějovický půlmaraton nebo sportovní festival u přehrady Lipno.Všechny díly podcastu Dopolední host můžete pohodlně poslouchat v mobilní aplikaci mujRozhlas pro Android a iOS nebo na webu mujRozhlas.cz.

This week, we're bringing you a special (and very fun) variety show-style holiday episode. Listen to hear Kaila and Kyle quiz each other on 2025 news trivia, followed by a listener-submitted Am I the A******?, 2025 work rants, and finally our rose, bud, thorn of 2025. 00:00 Intro 01:31 2025 Workplace Trivia 18:26 Listener-submitted “Am I the A******?” Segment 24:12 Work rants 30:36 2025 Rose, Bud, and Thorn This episode was sponsored by Industrious. Try out Industrious for yourself with a day pass OR a meeting room booking, now 50% off for Per My Last Email listeners. Visit industriousoffice.com/pmle to get your discount or free tour.  Want to get all of Kaila & Kyle's career resources? Subscribe to Per My Last Email: https://www.permylastemailshow.com/  Watch Per My Last Email on YouTube:   @PerMYLastEmailShow Follow Per My Last Email Instagram: @permylastemailshow TikTok: @permylastemailshow Twitter: @permylast_email Have a question for us? Send us an email or voice note to permylastemail@morningbrew.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Each week on Per My Last Email, Morning Brew's resident career experts Kaila and Kyle – whose careers have collectively spanned the corporate, government, nonprofit and startup sectors – debate the trickiest challenges in work life, and share tactics on how to overcome them. Share the show with a friend, and leave us a review on your favorite podcast app! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

V posledních Sportovních ozvěnách roku 2025 se vrátíme k vítězství hokejistů Motoru České Budějovice nad úřadujícími mistry z Brna. Bylo to velké drama. Vyzpovídali jsme aktéry zápasu, a protože se blíží Silvestr, první odpověď brankáře Jana Strmeně necháváme přesně tak, jak jsme ji po utkání natočili. I reportér se občas přepočítá.Všechny díly podcastu Sportovní ozvěny můžete pohodlně poslouchat v mobilní aplikaci mujRozhlas pro Android a iOS nebo na webu mujRozhlas.cz.

 Gościem Poranka Radia Wnet był Miłosz Lodowski, który pytany o najważniejsze wydarzenia mijającego roku, zaproponował perspektywę wykraczającą poza bieżącą polityczną awanturę. Jego zdaniem kluczową zmianą ostatnich miesięcy jest powrót znaczenia reputacji i rzetelności w przestrzeni publicznej. Lodowski zwracał uwagę, że rok 2025 przyniósł wyraźne zmęczenie społeczne polityką opartą na czystym wizerunku i marketingu.Najważniejszą rzeczą jest powrót reputacji w przestrzeni publicznej. Nagle zaczęły się liczyć rzeczy podstawowe: dobry warsztat, uczciwość, prawda, rzetelność. Ludzie przestali chcieć oglądać konstrukcje wizerunkowe i zaczęli szukać prawdy o człowieku– wskazał. Publicysta zauważył, że ten proces nie dotyczy wyłącznie Polski. Jego zdaniem podobny mechanizm zadziałał wcześniej w Stanach Zjednoczonych, a dziś widać jego konsekwencje po obu stronach Atlantyku.To było elementem zasadniczej zmiany w Stanach Zjednoczonych, a potem także w Polsce i w wielu częściach Europy. Politycy establishmentu nie radzą sobie dziś z własnymi słowami sprzed lat– mówił. Jako jeden z najbardziej symbolicznych momentów roku Lodowski wskazał kryzys w obozie demokratycznym w USA, związany z ujawnieniami dotyczącymi wydatkowania ogromnych środków publicznych. Zdaniem publicysty kluczowe znaczenie miało tu dziennikarstwo społeczne – to nie instytucje państwowe, lecz niezależny młody dziennikarz ujawnił skalę problemu. Lodowski stawiał pytanie, czy podobny mechanizm może wkrótce zadziałać także w Polsce.Jest pytanie, co się dzieje z naszymi pieniędzmi budżetowymi. Być może w 2026 roku jakiś dziennikarz społeczny pokaże nam, gdzie znikają środki, skoro brakuje pieniędzy, a efektów wydatków nie widać– komentował. W tym kontekście zwrócił uwagę na niejasności wokół polskiego budżetu – zarówno skali deficytu, jak i tempa jego procedowania.Budżet miał mieć deficyt 385 miliardów złotych, potem nagle zostało to zredukowane do 320 kilku miliardów. Nie wiadomo, co się stało z tymi pieniędzmi. Prezydent miał podejmować decyzję między świętami a Nowym Rokiem, a tymczasem Senat nie dowiózł terminu– mówił. Rozmowa szybko zeszła na realne skutki finansowego chaosu, szczególnie widoczne – jak podkreślał – w systemie ochrony zdrowia.To, co zdeterminowało ostatni kwartał roku, to absolutna destrukcja systemu zdrowia. To dotyczy wszystkich Polaków, bez względu na barwy polityczne– zwracał uwagę. Jako przykład podał stomatologię finansowaną z NFZ, gdzie środki – mimo że formalnie zaplanowane – kończą się w pierwszych dniach miesiąca, a dalsze leczenie staje się niemożliwe.Lodowski ostrzegał, że podobny mechanizm strachu przed podejmowaniem decyzji rozlewa się na całą administrację publiczną, czego przykładem ma być sytuacja wokół Funduszu Sprawiedliwości.Dziś żaden urzędnik nie chce podejmować decyzji finansowych, bo widzi, co spotkało tych, którzy działali zgodnie z prawem. Jeżeli budżet nie zostanie uchwalony, może nas czekać paraliż państwa– ostrzega. /fa

Park v Dukelské ulici v Českých Budějovicích býval zahradou, na jejímž konci se rozkládala městská plovárna. Tam, kde vede nyní hlavní silnice, bývaly tenisové kurty a hřiště.

V dnešnej epizóde podcastu Rozhovory MD sa venujeme téme, ktorá stojí na pomedzí medicíny, antropológie a sociálnej práce – zdraviu v rómskych komunitách.Hostia Tatiana Hrustič, riaditeľka a hlavná expertka projektových aktivít a Andrej Belák expert v oblasti zdravia Rómov, obaja z organizácie Zdravé regióny, https://www.zdraveregiony.eu/, vysvetľujú kľúčovú úlohu asistentov podpory zdravia, ktorí pôsobia priamo v komunitách aj v nemocniciach.

Shannon Sharpe and Chad “Ochocinco” Johnson deliver a must-watch Best of 2025 episode featuring major special guests and headline moments. Acclaimed director Ryan Coogler joins the show to break down his hit film Sinners and his creative process, while boxing superstar Terence “Bud” Crawford talks about manifesting a historic run at taking all of Canelo Alvarez’s belts. The episode heats up even more as Unc clashes with Jim Jones over his comments about Nas, sparking a heated hip-hop debate fans won’t want to miss. Subscribe to Nightcap presented by PrizePicks so you don’t miss out on any new drops! Download the PrizePicks app today and use code SHANNON to get $50 in lineups after you play your first $5 lineup! Visit https://prizepicks.onelink.me/LME0/NI... 0:00 - Vandy STAR QB Diego Pavia & Theo Von TALK Vanderbilt’s RISE in the SEC with Unc & Ocho! 15:11 - Ryan Coogler Talks New Movie 'Sinners' + Offers Unc a role in Black Panther 3 | Nightcap 45:40 - Bud Crawford PROMISES Unc & Ocho: “I’m Taking ALL of Canelo’s Belts!” | Nightcap (Timestamps may vary based on advertisements.) #ClubSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

To round out the year, Bud throws Bo some alley-oops from Pope Leo XIV's latest magisterium, and to wrap up the year we think through what it means to be in Mission AND in Communion at the same time. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone! Iowa Catholic Radio Network Shows: - Be Not Afraid with Fr. PJ McManus - Be Not Afraid in Spanish with Fr. Fabian Moncada - Catholic Women Now with Chris Magruder and Julie Nelson - Making It Personal with Bishop William Joensen - Man Up! with Joe Stopulus - The Catholic Morning Show with Dr. Bo Bonner - The Daily Gospel Reflection with Fr. Nick Smith - The Uncommon Good with Bo Bonner and Dr. Bud Marr - Faith and Family Finance with Gregory Waddle Want to support your favorite show? Click Here Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See https://pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Třiadvacetiletá studentka Anežka Pecháčková z Debrníku na Táborsku se rozhodla poněkud netradičně přispět českobudějovickému centru Arpida, které pomáhá hlavně dětem se zdravotním postižením. Vydala se na Nový Zéland, kde chce pěšky urazit tři tisíce kilometrů, a lidé si mohou adoptovat jednotlivé části její cesty za libovolnou částku.Všechny díly podcastu Dobré odpoledne z Českých Budějovic můžete pohodlně poslouchat v mobilní aplikaci mujRozhlas pro Android a iOS nebo na webu mujRozhlas.cz.

Former Utah head coach Kyle Whittingham has emerged as the leading candidate for the Michigan head coach position. Chip and Bud are live for an emergency episode to discuss the potential hire and how it could impact the Wolverines. Cover 3 is available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify and wherever else you listen to podcasts.  Visit the betting arena on CBSSports.com for all the latest in sportsbook reviews and sportsbook promos for betting on college football. Watch Cover 3 on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/cover3 Follow our hosts on Twitter: @Chip_Patterson, @TomFornelli, @DannyKanell, @BudElliott3 For more college football coverage from CBS Sports, visit https://www.cbssports.com/college-football/ To hear more from the CBS Sports Podcast Network, visit https://www.cbssports.com/podcasts/ To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Today's Oddcast - Talking Lamar - The People's Movie Critic's 2025 Recap (Airdate 12/26/2025)   Enjoy some of Lamar's movie reviews from 2025! He's got one for every category, from 1 Bud up to a full 6-pack.   The Bob & Sheri Oddcast: Everything We Don’t, Can’t, Won’t, and Definitely Shouldn’t Do on the Show!

Teddy Atlas breaks down the spectacle of Jake Paul vs. Anthony Joshua, recapping why he thought this fight would go more rounds than most people expected. While many anticipate a quick and violent ending from Joshua, Teddy outlines the factors that could extend the fight into deeper rounds — including Joshua's recent inactivity, the massive ring size, and Joshua's tendency at times to be a slow starter. Teddy also reflects on the legendary career of Terence “Bud” Crawford following his retirement announcement. He discusses Crawford's rare versatility, ring IQ, mental toughness, instincts and ability to dominate across multiple weight classes. Teddy places Crawford among the true modern greats, comparing his résumé, skill set, and dominance to other all-time elite fighters and explaining where Bud fits historically in the pantheon of boxing legends.Finally, Teddy previews a huge weekend of action from Saudi Arabia, breaking down Naoya Inoue vs. David Picasso and Junto Nakatani vs. Sebastian Reyes. Teddy explains why Inoue's pressure, power, and precision make him one of the most dangerous fighters in the world, while also noting what Picasso must do to survive and compete. He then turns to Nakatani, highlighting his size, technique, and finishing ability, and explains why Reyes faces an uphill battle against one of boxing's most complete and dangerous champions.Thanks for being with us. The best way to support is to subscribe, share the episode and check out our sponsor: https://athleticgreens.com/atlasYou can join Teddy for the first ever community driven and one-of-a-kind subscription platform to get exclusive never seen before access to Teddy Atlas: https://Teddyatlasboxing.com The Ropes with Teddy includes: Teddy's tips and advice Evaluations/ video review feedback / Exclusive Fight Picks /Dedicated livestreams for private Q&A's and livestreams for selected fights with Teddy's commentary / 1 on 1 coaching from Teddy and much more!Timestamps:03:00 - Paul vs Joshua Recap38:10 - Terence Crawford Retires49:45 - Inoue vs Picasso58:00 - Nakatani vs HernandezTEDDY'S AUDIOBOOKAmazon/Audible: https://amzn.to/32104DRiTunes/Apple: https://apple.co/32y813rTHE FIGHT T-SHIRTShttps://teddyatlas.comTEDDY'S SOCIAL MEDIATwitter - http://twitter.com/teddyatlasrealInstagram - http://instagram.com/teddy_atlasTHE FIGHT WITH TEDDY ATLAS SOCIAL MEDIAInstagram - http://instagram.com/thefightWTATwitter - http://twitter.com/thefightwtaFacebook - https://www.facebook.com/TheFightwithTeddyAtlasThanks for tuning in. Please be sure to subscribe! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

JP Dinnell sits down with former Navy SEAL teammate and Veteran of the Battle of Ramadi, Andrew Paul.  JP and Andrew talk about the Battle of Ramadi, BUD/s, working for Jocko in Task Unit Bruiser, and how Echelon Front brings battlefield lessons to the boardroom and the home.  Get your free training from First In Nutrition: https://www.firstinnutrition.com/jppod More from JP Dinnell: https://www.jpdinnell.com/ Join the conversation on instagram Andrew Paul: http://instagram.com/theandrewmpaul JP Dinnell: http://instagram.com/jpdinnell/ Lucas Pinckard: https://www.instagram.com/lucaspinckard Bruiser Arms: https://www.instagram.com/bruiserarms Echelon Front: https://echelonfront.com/ Little Cattle Co: http://littlecattle.co On The Path Printing: https://www.instagram.com/onthepathprinting JP Dinnell is a former U.S. Navy SEAL and now a Leadership Instructor, Speaker and Strategic Advisor with Echelon Front, where he serves as Director of Experiential Leadership Training Programs. J.P. is also a pro team athlete and spokesperson for Origin Maine and Jocko Fuel, an American clothing and supplement company. J.P. has a signature Energy Drink flavor "Sour Apple Sniper" with Jocko Fuel. Jeremiah spent nearly a decade in the SEAL Teams with three combat deployments. Sent to the violent terrorist stronghold of Ar Ramadi, Iraq in 2006 with SEAL Team Three's Task Unit Bruiser, J.P. served as point man, machine gunner, and lead sniper for Delta Platoon opposite the American Sniper, Chris Kyle, who was in Charlie Platoon. For his leadership and courage under fire, JP was awarded a Silver Star, 2 Bronze Stars with Valor and the Army Commendation Medal with Valor helping Task Unit Bruiser to become the most highly decorated special operations unit of the Iraq War. He worked closely with SEAL Officers Jocko Willink, his Task Unit Commander, and Leif Babin, and was the driving force on many of the daring combat operations Jocko and Leif wrote about in Extreme Ownership. Upon his return, J.P. again worked directly for Jocko as a training instructor at Naval Special Warfare Group One Training Detachment, where he orchestrated realistic and challenging training scenarios for Special Operations Urban Combat training and Close Quarters Combat training to better prepare SEAL units for the real-world battlefield. He also served as a Combatives Instructor, Marksmanship Instructor and earned his Master Trainer Specialist qualification while helping Jocko rebuild and enhance these training programs into the highly effective platforms they are today. J.P. brings exceptional experience and frontline leadership perspective from the winning mindset and culture of Task Unit Bruiser.

Join Dave and Wayne for genre television show news, a glimpse into what the hosts are watching, listener feedback, and analysis of the Prime Video series Fallout. This week on the SciFi TV Rewatch podcast we discuss the Season 2 premiere and the evolving partnership between The Ghoul and Lucy as they search the wasteland for her father and The Ghoul's family. Has Norm made an incredibly bad decision releasing the remainder of Bud's Buds? Will Hank make contact with Robert House? In our What We're Watching segment, Wayne manages a rewatch of Fallout, and Dave continues w/military nurse and ANZAC Girls on Roku Channel. In Listener Feedback, Fred from the Netherlands and Alan in England comment with audio feedback, and Cincinnati Joe checks in via email.  Remember to join the genre television and film discussion on the SciFi TV Rewatch Facebook group for the latest genre television show news and podcast releases. Episode Grade: Dave 8.0  Wayne 9.3      

Teddy Atlas breaks down the spectacle of Jake Paul vs. Anthony Joshua, recapping why he thought this fight would go more rounds than most people expected. While many anticipate a quick and violent ending from Joshua, Teddy outlines the factors that could extend the fight into deeper rounds — including Joshua's recent inactivity, the massive ring size, and Joshua's tendency at times to be a slow starter. Teddy also reflects on the legendary career of Terence “Bud” Crawford following his retirement announcement. He discusses Crawford's rare versatility, ring IQ, mental toughness, instincts and ability to dominate across multiple weight classes. Teddy places Crawford among the true modern greats, comparing his résumé, skill set, and dominance to other all-time elite fighters and explaining where Bud fits historically in the pantheon of boxing legends.Finally, Teddy previews a huge weekend of action from Saudi Arabia, breaking down Naoya Inoue vs. David Picasso and Junto Nakatani vs. Sebastian Reyes. Teddy explains why Inoue's pressure, power, and precision make him one of the most dangerous fighters in the world, while also noting what Picasso must do to survive and compete. He then turns to Nakatani, highlighting his size, technique, and finishing ability, and explains why Reyes faces an uphill battle against one of boxing's most complete and dangerous champions.Thanks for being with us. The best way to support is to subscribe, share the episode and check out our sponsor: https://athleticgreens.com/atlasYou can join Teddy for the first ever community driven and one-of-a-kind subscription platform to get exclusive never seen before access to Teddy Atlas: https://Teddyatlasboxing.com The Ropes with Teddy includes: Teddy's tips and advice Evaluations/ video review feedback / Exclusive Fight Picks /Dedicated livestreams for private Q&A's and livestreams for selected fights with Teddy's commentary / 1 on 1 coaching from Teddy and much more!Timestamps:03:00 - Paul vs Joshua Recap38:10 - Terence Crawford Retires49:45 - Inoue vs Picasso58:00 - Nakatani vs HernandezTEDDY'S AUDIOBOOKAmazon/Audible: https://amzn.to/32104DRiTunes/Apple: https://apple.co/32y813rTHE FIGHT T-SHIRTShttps://teddyatlas.comTEDDY'S SOCIAL MEDIATwitter - http://twitter.com/teddyatlasrealInstagram - http://instagram.com/teddy_atlasTHE FIGHT WITH TEDDY ATLAS SOCIAL MEDIAInstagram - http://instagram.com/thefightWTATwitter - http://twitter.com/thefightwtaFacebook - https://www.facebook.com/TheFightwithTeddyAtlasThanks for tuning in. Please be sure to subscribe! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Jacob Townsend and Bud talk with Voice of the Titans, Taylor Zarzour, about the Titans win over the Chiefs, first win of the season at Nissan Stadium, his thoughts on the first round of the CFP, and more.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hour 4 of December 23, 2025 Jacob Townsend and Bud talk with Voice of the Titans, Taylor Zarzour, about the Titans win over the Chiefs, first win of the season at Nissan Stadium, his thoughts on the first round of the CFP, and more. Then, they talk about Bobby Petrino heading to North Carolina as offensive coordinator. Also, it is time for birthdays.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hour 3 of December 23, 2025 Jacob Townsend and Bud talk with studio sponsor, K.D. Bowen of Fanatics 101. Then, they talk about the Notre Dame/USC rivalry taking a pause. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hour 2 of December 23, 2025 Jacob Townsend and Bud talk about what to do with the group of 5 in the College Football Playoff. Then, they talk about an interaction Bud had while getting breakfast Tuesday morning. Also, they discuss Philip Rivers' second start for the Colts. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Born and raised in the mountains of rural northwest Georgia, Chadd grew up obsessed with becoming a SEAL, but when the Navy discovered a rare but asymptomatic cyst on his heart, he was disqualified from entering BUD/s. Chadd refused to give up, ultimately tracking down a surgeon willing to perform a procedure deemed too risky by every cardiologist he previously petitioned. Cyst successfully removed, Chadd went on to realize his SEAL dream, serving over the next decade as a Team Leader on multiple deployments to conflict zones across the world. He became a SEAL instructor. A Master Training Specialist. Chadd even served a stint as President Obama's bodyguard. Along the way, he battled PTSD and traumatic brain injury. Now retired from the military, Chadd has found new life as an elite ultramarathoner — a spiritual quest for self-knowledge and mind-body mastery that has compelled him to tackle some of the world's most insane endurance slogs like The Revenant — a 118-mile footrace across south New Zealand with over 52,000 feet of elevation gain that not one person has ever successfully completed. The 3 of 7 Project: https://www.3of7project.com/   Today's Sponsors: Black Rifle Coffee: https://www.blackriflecoffee.com David: Order a sample pack at https://Davidprotein.com  

The fellas recap the week that was! Sports Talk: NBA Talk, NFL talk, College Football Playoffs, Bud calls it s career, and Jake Paul catches a fade! Killa's BETS, and more! Entertainment: Charlamagne's new deal, RIP to director Rob Reiner, Netflix jumping into the pod game, and more! Quick Hitters: Paypal applies to become a bank, and a video game update!

Happy Friday, Donks! BC and LT dive into the Jake Paul vs. Anthony Joshua fight and discuss the undercard matchup: Anderson Silva vs. Tyron Woodley. Terence Crawford announced his retirement at the age of 38. The fellas discuss Bud's legacy. Plus, Tom Aspinall fired back at Ciryl Gane and more.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Phones: 1-213-267-7787 (USA), +44 2081 036051 (UK) On episode 385 of The Neutral Corner Boxing Podcast, host Michael Montero previews the heavyweight match up between Jake Paul and Anthony Joshua, which will be broadcast live on Netflix on Friday, 19-December from Miami, Florida. Montero also gives his thoughts on Terence "Bud" Crawford announcing his retirement this week. What is Bud's legacy and where does he stack up all-time? https://youtube.com/live/FFGhPwtWbFY

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 3 How did we ever get here? Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. "When I was fourteen, Mr. Johnson introduced me to a friend of his, Henry White, who was a master plumber. Henry was a high-functioning alcoholic whose temper had driven away all his old apprentices and journeymen. Luckily, I was always big for my age, and Mr. Johnson assured Henry that I was seventeen, turning eighteen in the next few months, so he took me on with the promise to make me an apprentice as soon as I was old enough. By the time that Henry learned my actual age, he had come to rely on me so much that he kept me on." "But what about school? Don't you need a high school diploma to become an apprentice?" "One good thing about growing up in a small town is that most people know the score. I made it to school when I could, and Henry and I worked a lot on the weekends, while Alison watched the rest of my siblings. Most of my teachers let me through with C's and D's, even though I must have missed half of my classes. Everyone knew that I was working with Henry and that I would need my high school diploma to become an apprentice, so they just kind of let me slip through. "I had well over 6,000 hours of experience plumbing before I even turned 18 and could formally become an apprentice. By that point, Henry was a significantly less functional alcoholic, and I was doing everything for his business; all the plumbing and all of the invoicing. He just signed off on the work. If anyone had ever looked into it, he could have gotten into real trouble, but we did smaller jobs for folks who didn't have a lot of money, so no one ever noticed or cared. "Just about the last thing that Henry did before he passed was to swear out my application to become a master plumber. Then one day I showed up for work, and he had died in his sleep. He didn't own much of anything, other than his tools, and he didn't have any family that I knew of, so I just kept on working." After a few minutes spent lying together in silence, I thought that Erin might have drifted off, but she had one more question for me before she did. "When did your mom leave?" I had never told anyone that part of my story; even my brother and sisters thought that Mom had just left one day, leaving me in charge. The reality was so much worse. "By the time Lane started school, Mom had already left us. Not physically, but in all the other ways that matter. She didn't work, and she regularly brought her 'boyfriends' back to our house to trade sex for drugs. Any support she got from social services went straight into her arm or up her nose. I was working long hours by then, to pay the rent and put food on the table, so sometimes that meant that Mary or my brother would be at home with Mom when I wasn't there. I knew it was playing with fire, but there was nothing I could do about it other than pray. "Normally, when I got home, I would blow my horn as I pulled into our drive and Lane would come running out to hug me and tell me about his day. So, I knew something was wrong when I came home late one evening, turned off my truck, and he still hadn't come out. I went inside, and Mom was sitting stoned in the living room watching TV. I asked where Lane was, and she just waved toward the back of the house. Alison and Sharon were out, so Mary and Lane were home with her by themselves. I found him in the room that we shared, cowering in the corner, with little Mary guarding the door. She was only eight at the time. "After a few minutes, I got Lane to tell me what was wrong, and he showed me his arm. Earlier, he had been in the kitchen and had bumped into Mom while she was cooking something on the stove. In a burst of rage, or maybe just evil, she grabbed his arm and held it against the burner. You can still see the scar on his arm today. "That was the end of it. I asked Mary to stay with Lane in our room, I packed Mom's things into the one suitcase we owned, and I drove her to the bus station. I bought her a ticket to Grand Rapids, gave her all the cash in my wallet, and waited with her until she boarded. I told her I would call the police if she ever came back. "Before she left, she spat on me and told me she wished I had never been born." I marveled at how flat my voice sounded, but to my surprise, my cheeks felt wet. I thought I had lost the ability to cry long ago. "Can you imagine that, abandoning your own mother? I'll probably burn in hell, but it was the only way I could think of to keep my brother and sisters safe. I haven't seen her since, although she used to call a couple of times a year asking for money. I didn't feel too bad about hanging up on her when she did, though, since she was still collecting family benefits for us all. Lane barely remembers her, which is likely a blessing, so I made up the story about Mom going away for the weekend and never coming back. "Since then, I have done what was needed for us to survive. When Alison finished school, she wanted to stay home to help look after the others, but I convinced her to go to college. I said that Mom had put aside some money for her tuition, but of course, that was a lie. I have been making the payments for her, but I wanted her to have the chance to just be young, for once. To get away from all of this, at least for a while." "But what about you, Davis?" "I don't matter." "Well, you matter to me." While I was speaking, Erin had wrapped both arms around me and was now holding me tight against her body. When I finished, my body was wracked by waves of uncontrollable grief, but she held me through it all. Eventually, as I started to calm down, she gave me gentle kisses on the nape of my neck and whispered to me in a soft voice. I don't remember what she said, but I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. The power came back on early the next morning, and Erin and I were the first people to wake up. She lay beside me with a small smile on her face. "You've had some hard times, Davis Crawford, but you have come out the other side. You're pretty amazing." I felt a sudden burst of both elation and fear as I returned her smile. "Thanks for listening and not judging me. I've never told anyone some of the things I shared with you." "It was my pleasure. Now let's get up and make some coffee." Looking out the window, the snowdrifts were over two feet high in places, but I knew they weren't going to get any lighter as the sun came out and they started to melt. "I am going to get started on the shoveling if you want to start on breakfast." Erin gave me a bemused look. "Or maybe, I am fully capable of shoveling snow, and we can get it done twice as fast by working together." A few minutes after we started, Lane came out to help. At one point, when Erin was on the other side of the yard, he started to speak. "I heard some of what you said to Erin last night. I never knew what Mom did to you, what you did to protect us. Thank you." "Ah, Bud. I never wanted you to worry. Mom wasn't well for a long time, and she made some terrible choices. But she's gone now, and you will always be safe with me." By the time we finished, we had worked ourselves into a lather, so I suggested to Wilma that she get a snow plowing service for the winter. She gave me a look that implied that somewhere there was a village searching for its idiot; and that idiot was me. "Oh, I have a service, but they take so long to come that they are useless if they bother to show up at all." Erin jumped into the conversation, looking pissed off. "It's part of my family and the McDougal's ongoing campaign to get Gran to move. I have told them how dangerous the game they are playing is, but they just don't seem to care." I thought for a minute, before walking a little ways away and making a call. When I returned, I had some good news for Wilma. "Go ahead and cancel your current service. If they aren't going to do the work, they shouldn't have a problem with not getting paid. I called an old friend of mine from school who runs a snow removal company out of Harbor Springs, who owes me a favor or nine. From now on, you will be at the top of his list." Erin and I texted just about every day between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and we talked most nights when she wasn't working. We were both insanely busy; Erin was providing pediatric coverage for two hospitals that were three hours apart, and I was working as much overtime as possible, to save up for Christmas. Some weeks, the only time we had to meet in person was Sunday afternoons at Wilma's. Mary, in turn, was flourishing under Wilma's guidance. It seemed like she was channeling her emotions into her art, and I began to see the kind and thoughtful sister reemerge that I thought I had lost forever. She wouldn't show me the painting she was working on, but Wilma said she was making good progress, and that was all I needed to know. As it got towards mid-December, our thoughts turned to Christmas. Since Wilma's family was still boycotting the holidays, we decided to have a joint celebration like at Thanksgiving. Erin was going to be working at the hospital in Petoskey on Christmas Day, but we promised to keep Wilma company and to bring her a Christmas meal that she could eat on her break. In typical fashion, she tried to convince us that she would be fine with cafeteria food, but we would hear nothing of it. When we got to Wilma's house for lunch on Christmas Day, she had stockings laid out by the fireplace with a present for each of us. Santa must have had a very healthy budget, because he brought Lane a new fishing rod, Mary a set of expensive paints and charcoals, Sharon a contribution to her college fund, and Alison a specialized nurse's bag with a personalized stethoscope. Rather than a present, my stocking came with a small envelope that contained a pair of tickets to the traveling production of "Moulin Rouge" that was playing in Grand Rapids in March. Although I was happy to get a present of any kind, Wilma must have seen my look of confusion at the choice. "I was talking to Santa, and he mentioned that Erin loves musicals. Phillip used to take her to them when she was younger. He would put on his best suit, and she would get all dolled up in a dress with some of my jewelry, and they would go out for a fancy dinner before the show and have a grand old time." I looked at her in amusement, before replying. "Well, it seems that Santa is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. But I will have to say thanks, next time I bump into him." Our present to Wilma came in three parts. First, we included her in our Christmas cookie exchange, and Mary even gave her a double portion of the chocolate chip cookies she had baked. Second, the five of us committed to helping her catch up on the yard work and house repairs that had fallen by the wayside since Phillip passed. And finally, we pledged to do everything in our power to make sure that she could stay in her house for as long as she was able. Wilma hugged and thanked each of us with tears in her eyes, then looked over at Mary. "Why don't you get your present for your brother." Mary went to the studio at the back of the house and brought back what looked like a small painting, wrapped in Christmas paper. "I wanted to make you something to say 'thank you' for everything you have done for us. And for not giving up on me." When I unwrapped the painting, I was stunned. It was very different from Phillip or Wilma's more realistic works and had vibrant streaks of paint that burst across the canvas, meeting, seemingly at random, in explosions of color. The entire piece was chaotic, except for a single corner that was shielded from the turmoil by a solid arc of paint that was the exact color of my eyes. After lunch, Mary and Sharon kept Wilma company while Alison, Lane, and I went to see Erin at the hospital. Things were pretty quiet, so she had time to sit and eat her dinner with us. While she ate, I showed her pictures from earlier in the day. She laughed at one, in particular, of Wilma with her arm around Mary while they were wearing festive paper hats from their Christmas crackers. "Thank you for taking such good care of Wilma, Davis. She would never admit it, but the holidays would have been very lonely for her this year without you. It means the world to me that you could be there for her." We chatted a bit longer before I pulled out my present for Erin. It was a small flat package which she opened slowly. Inside was a framed drawing of Wilma's house, as seen from the docks, as she looked out the picture window in her living room. "This is amazing, who made it?" "I used to draw quite a bit in school. Since Mary has been working with your Gran, I thought I might give it another try, and I particularly liked how this one turned out." "It's beautiful, Davis. Thank you." She started to blush as she glanced over at Lane, before she slid a card over to me, and whispered, "Maybe you should wait to open this until later when you're alone." Inside the card was Erin's two-part gift to me. First, an invitation to visit her in Grand Rapids, and second, a night for the two of us in a suite at a very nice hotel. New Year's Eve was even quieter than usual at our house. Erin was working in Grand Rapids and was on call that evening. I spoke with her earlier in the day, however, and wished her a Happy New Year, and we sent each other kissing emojis at midnight. The rest of us spent the night playing board games. The only real excitement came a few days earlier when Mary asked if she could invite a friend to join us. "And is this friend a boy, by chance?" As far as I knew, Mary had never had a boyfriend, so this was a new development. Mary didn't have to answer, since her blush did the talking for her. "Do we know this boy?" "It's; It's James McDougal. But he's not like his brothers. He's a good guy." I had my reservations about all of the McDougals, but I was willing to give him a chance. I had only met James that one time at his parent's house when I had gone to get Mary, and he seemed polite enough. But since he was a McDougal, he was starting with two strikes and was in danger of going down swinging. To give Mary credit, James passed the first boyfriend test before he even made it into the house. When he drove into the yard, Munchkin was the first to greet him. He wasn't growling or barking like he sometimes did, or showing his teeth, but he was plenty intimidating. James waited patiently for him to approach before carefully scratching behind his ears. After Mary came out to greet James, Munchkin decided he was alright and fell in behind them as they came inside. Just after midnight, as he was getting ready to leave, James took me aside. "I just wanted to say, sir, that I am sorry for what happened with Mary a few months back. I should never have brought her over to my house without your permission, and I should have brought her right back home once I saw that my brothers were home. I promise you, that despite my bad judgment, I would have made sure that nothing happened to her, and I won't ever make that mistake again." I had to admit that James was growing on me. Chapter 5. It wasn't long before Mary introduced James to Wilma. I had to work on a Sunday in early January, so he offered to drive her to Wilma's in my place. I could tell he was nervous, and he was wearing a nice, collared shirt with some clean jeans, under his winter jacket. By the time he brought Mary home, his shirt was soaked in sweat, and he looked a little like a young man returning from war. Later that week, I asked Wilma what she thought of him. "He seems like a nice, polite boy and he sure is besotted with our Mary. While Mary and I worked on her latest painting, he did some chores for me, including chopping and stacking the entire half cord of wood you dropped off last week. But he didn't complain, and he was still smiling at Mary when he was done, so I think he will do." Wilma's relationship with the rest of the McDougals, however, remained tense, and they made it clear to me that continuing to help her would come at a steep cost. I ran into Calum one evening at the grocery store and he made their position crystal clear. "We've got a big job coming up in Indian River that you might be interested in. Starts in a week, and it would keep you busy for the better part of the next year, solid. The job is yours if you want it." "What's this job going to cost me?" "It's yours, no strings attached. But you wouldn't have time to help old lady Anderson anymore. You know, and I know, that it's time for her to move on from that land. It's what her family wants and it's what's best for her. I am sure that doctor down in Petoskey would understand, I figure she must be tired of looking after that grandmother of hers all the time anyway. Think how much more time the two of you would have together if you were working a regular nine-to-five kind of job. "On the other hand, if you don't work with us on this project, my family is going to take it pretty hard. Hard enough that we might reach out to our friends and neighbors to let them know that you are not a team player and that they may not want to do business with you." There it was. They were threatening to ruin me if I didn't do what they wanted. I knew they couldn't cut off all of my business since there were too many people in the lower peninsula who had been screwed over by them in the past. But they could sure make things tough for me. I am really bad at taking orders, however, particularly from dickheads like Calum McDougal. Calum had a cynical smile as he walked away. He didn't value decency or loyalty, so I was sure he thought he had won me over. All he had done was harden my resolve. I felt honor-bound to reach out to my friend who was clearing Wilma's driveway, though, to let him know that he might get some heat from the McDougals. He was surprisingly poetic in his response. "Fuck those arrogant worm-drowners and the horses they rode in on." Valentine's Day was never a big deal for me. Over the years, I hadn't had time to date, and I wouldn't have had any money to do anything special if I did, so the Hallmark holiday passed me by without too much fuss or bother. I had hoped things might be different since I was with Erin, but she was on call at the hospital in Petoskey, and I was pushing hard on a large multi-unit build that was on a tight schedule, so I was working six or even seven days a week until it was done. My work hadn't completely dried up since my run-in with Calum, but it had certainly taken a hit, so I was not in a position to turn down jobs, no matter how inconvenient. My one consolation was I knew I would see Erin in a couple of weeks when I visited her in Grand Rapids for the show. I had some flowers delivered to her at the hospital anyway, to let her know that I was thinking of her. That earned me an emoji-filled text and an enthusiastic video call when she was done with her shift. As the date of the show got closer, I started to get anxious. I had never been to a live performance of anything, except the occasional high school assembly, and I worried that Erin would be disappointed in my lack of manners and refinement. Wilma noticed my growing nervousness and decided that I needed a pep talk. "Listen, Davis. Erin likes you for who you are. She doesn't need or want you to act like some slick yuppie from the big city." "I know, Wilma, but I don't even know what to wear. The nicest outfit I own is still just a collared shirt over a pair of jeans." "Hmm, I can help you with that. I still have some of Phillip's old suits and ties, let's take a look and see what might fit." Half an hour later, Wilma had picked out a heavier dark charcoal-colored suit, a lightweight linen suit suitable for warmer weather, and a dark grey suit with tight pinstripes for me to try on. She had some shirts for me, as well, from when Phillip was younger. "Phillip wore that pinstripe suit the first time that he took me to the movies. I'll never forget that night, he looked just like Cary Grant. If you bring these suits to the tailor in Indian River, he should be able to take in the jacket and hem the pants to fit you perfectly. A good tailor can make these suits look like they were cut just for you." I didn't want to seem ungrateful, but I couldn't help but wonder if I would look funny in a decades-old suit. Wilma dismissed my concerns out of hand. "Let me tell you a little secret. If you buy a cheap suit, it will quickly begin to look tacky and dated. If you invest in a quality suit, it will age gracefully and become a timeless classic." Finally, Wilma selected a half dozen ties for me to try on and spent an hour teaching me how to tie a half-Windsor knot. "Get these suits altered, grab yourself a pair of polished black leather shoes, and you'll have those snooty pricks at the theatre thinking they are underdressed. And try to have fun. Erin loves the theatre, so if the two of you continue to fall in love, you will be going with her at least a couple of times a year, so you might as well enjoy it." I stood there in shock for a moment. "Do you really think Erin is falling in love with me?" "Well, yes, I do. And it's clear as daylight that you're in love with her too. But don't overthink things. Just go to the show and have a great night together. And here, take this with you as well," Wilma said handing me a navy blue pocket square with a distinctive paisley pattern. "Most men don't bother wearing a pocket square anymore, but I think they complete the look perfectly. You should wear this one on your date with Erin." Wilma took a final look at me and then slipped a twenty-dollar bill into my pocket. "That's for you to get a haircut before the show. Your normal 'shaggy mutt lost in a forest' look is adorable but not for your big date." The day of the performance approached with both aching slowness and relentless speed. We hadn't discussed it, but I knew (or at least strongly suspected) that Erin would have some expectations about how we spent our time together after the show. Unfortunately, I had no experience when it came to women other than a single kiss with Brittany Johnson back in my sophomore year of high school. I was terrified that I would disappoint her. To make matters worse, I had the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Grand Rapids to overthink things. By the time I arrived at Erin's apartment complex, I was a bit of a mess. My nerves were somewhat allayed, however, when Erin came running out to greet me with a huge smile on her face. "You made it! How was the drive? Wow, I love the haircut! I hope you're not too tired. I can't wait for tonight. I have been telling the girls all about you, and they are dying to see if the man lives up to the legend!" I guess Erin could see the sudden swell of anxiety on my face, so she took my hand. "Don't worry, the girls will love you, Davis. Why don't you grab your bag and come inside? I thought we could get changed here and then check in to the hotel before dinner and the show." Erin's housemates were really sweet, and the three of us chatted for at least an hour while Erin got ready before I excused myself to do the same. I put on Phillip's charcoal grey suit along with the crisp white shirt that Wilma had recommended. It took me four tries to tie my navy blue tie, but even I could tell that it made the colors in my paisley pocket square pop. Despite my nerves, I was still ready before Erin, so I rejoined her housemates in the living room while I waited. They kept sneaking glances at me when they thought I wasn't looking, so much so that I thought I must have done something wrong. Rather than second-guessing myself, I decided to take the bull by the horns and ask; better to be embarrassed in front of Erin's housemates than in front of her. "It's; it's not that you did anything wrong. It's just that you look; well, amazing; like an old-time movie star or something. Erin is going to swoon when she sees you." "You really think so?" I asked, still not sure of myself. Just then, I heard Erin's voice from behind me. "I'm sorry I took so long; we should head out before we're;" Erin went silent as I turned to look at her. She was wearing a floor-length emerald-green dress, which seemed to flow around her and mold to her curves, gathering delicately at her neck while leaving her back bare. Her sandy-blonde hair was styled in an elegant updo, while a few strands floated loose, framing her face. But, as always, what captured and held my gaze were her amber eyes, which danced and sparkled as she moved. My hands began to tremble, and I didn't trust myself to speak. "Do I look alright, Davis?" I took a deep breath that sent oxygen coursing through my body, as I found my voice. "I had no idea that anyone could look as beautiful as you do right now." Apparently, she liked my response, since her face broke into a wide grin. "You look mighty handsome yourself, Mister," she said while making a small adjustment to the knot of my tie. "Is that one of Grampy's suits? It looks amazing on you, and I love the tie and the; Oh; Oh, Davis. Is that Grampy's pocket square?" I could see tears forming in her eyes. "Wilma thought you might like it; that it might remind you of Phillip and the times he took you to the theatre when you were younger. I don't have to wear it, though, if you don't like it," I said reaching up to take it out of my pocket. Erin stopped my hand with hers, however, and then lightly ran her fingertips over the colorful square. "Gran was right. It reminds me of Grampy and now it will remind me of you. Please, I want you to wear it. For me." I felt a bit self-conscious pulling up to a fancy hotel in my ratty old truck, but it didn't seem to faze Erin in the least, so I decided not to worry about it. The suite she had booked was by far the nicest room of any kind that I had ever been in, but I tried not to seem like a country rube as I looked around. "Do you like it?" Erin asked a bit nervously, as she tried to gauge my reaction. "Honestly, I thought that rooms like this were just for celebrities and movie stars, and folks like that." "Normally that's the case, I guess, but for one night; tonight; it's ours." Dinner was lovely. I kept expecting people to see past my suit and realize that I was an imposter; just a plumber from the peninsula; not the kind of man who should be spending the evening with a woman like Erin. But she seemed to be having a wonderful time, so I began to relax. My anxiety was further abated when she leaned over the table and said in a low voice. "Jesus, the women in this place can't stop checking you out. I'm kind of wishing I had brought my bear spray now to keep them away. I need to excuse myself for a minute, but I wouldn't be surprised to find one of them trying to take my place when I get back." "Erin, I would never;" "I know, Darling. And frankly, they can look all they want because I know who you're going home with tonight." After that, I looked around the room with a new eye and noticed the subtle glances in my direction, and the shy smiles and blushes. I guess Phillip really did have good taste in suits. After dinner, we walked arm-in-arm to the performance hall, which was very impressive, with its soaring ceilings and plush velvet upholstery. Our seats were in a box on the right-hand side of the hall, which gave us a commanding view of the stage. As the lights went down, Erin took my hand in eager anticipation. I don't remember much about the performance that night; I spent more time watching Erin's childlike wonder than what was happening on the stage. Erin was still holding my hand at the intermission, and I felt a warm sense of contentment wash over me. "Oh, I forgot to mention, some of the largest donors to the hospital are hosting a reception after the performance. Would it be alright if we put in an appearance before we head back to our hotel?" I agreed without hesitation; a decision I would second guess before the night was over. It was close to 10:30 by the time the performance ended, and Erin held my arm, while resting her head on my shoulder, as we made our way through the hall to the reception. We each grabbed a drink, and we drifted through the small crowd until Erin was greeted warmly by a distinguished-looking older couple. Erin introduced them to me as the hosts of the reception, Mr. and Mrs. Wendel. "Please, just call us Tom and Martha. And you two make such a lovely couple. What do you do, Davis?" "I am a plumber, Ma'am," I replied, wondering how that news would be received by this obviously well-to-do couple, but I needn't have worried. "What kind of plumbing do you do?" Tom asked with genuine interest. "Mainly residential at this point, since I just got my master's license last year. A lot of the larger builders want to see some gray hairs on the heads of their skilled tradesmen, so right now, I am just doing what I can to pay the bills." "Amen, to that brother. I remember those days well. I started out, over 30 years ago now, as a dry Waller, and I spent more years than I care to remember doing whatever jobs I could get, just to get a foot in the door. It paid off for me in the end, though. Say, I am working on a development on the south side of town and was wondering;" Before Martha could stop him, Tom launched into a long and technical question about a challenge he was having with the plumbing for his new development. When I started an equally long and technical response, Erin kissed me on the cheek and whispered that Martha and she were going to go to the bar to get another drink. A few minutes later, I was still talking with Tom when a movement at the bar caught my eye. I looked more closely and saw that Erin was speaking with a tall, arrogant-looking man who kept trying to put his hand on her lower back, while she forcefully pushed it away. "My apologies, Tom, but could you give me a minute?" Without waiting for a reply, I walked over to where Erin was standing and slipped my arm around her waist, just as the man reached for her for a third time. "Hey, now," I said, trying to defuse the situation with a bit of humor. "At least buy me a drink before you make a move on me like that." His hand recoiled like it had been scalded, and his cheeks colored in anger. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from where I was standing. "Well, if it isn't the plumber," he said in a mocking tone. He must have been eavesdropping on my conversation with Tom, and he clearly wasn't impressed. "What did you think of the show this evening? Actually, that's hardly a fair question since you've probably never been to the theatre before. So, how about something more your level? I wonder what you would think of the bathrooms in my new penthouse. I am sure you would find them very impressive. I will give you a call the next time my toilet gets clogged, and you can come and check them out." He seemed very pleased with his insults, so he continued, a condescending grin on his face. "Anyway, Dr. Anderson, as I was saying, it was charitable of you to let the help see how the rest of us live, and I am sure he is having a good time and all, but it's past time for him to bring his daddy's suit home, don't you think? Why don't you leave him to it, and you and I can go have a drink? And then; who knows? I had dealt with people like this prick for my entire life. When you grow up with one abusive parent and no money, you get used to just about everyone feeling like they are better than you. There was nothing I could do about that, but I learned to use humor as a shield to protect myself and deflect attention. But sometimes humor just wasn't enough. And when humor failed, a more direct approach was called for. "You know, if you're trying to insult me, you're going to have to work a whole lot harder than that. But I doubt that hard work is something that you're too familiar with. I have been working since I was twelve to put food on the table for my brother and sisters. I have been a plumber since I was fourteen; by the time I was fifteen, I am sure I had already spent more time ankle-deep in shit than you've spent doing honest work in your entire life. "I didn't borrow this suit from my father because I don't know who my father is; that's right, I'm a bastard. But I am a bastard by circumstance and not by choice. I was born this way, what's your excuse? And since you asked, the suit I'm wearing belonged to Erin's grandfather, and you're right, I would never be able to afford a suit like this myself. But it's an honor to wear a suit that belonged to a man who loved Erin more than anything in this world. If I am really lucky, maybe she will let me love her just as deeply one day. "I may not know that much about musicals or the theatre, but anything that brings that much joy to Erin is more than fine in my books. So, I am going to continue to have a wonderful time with Erin this evening. Why wouldn't I? I am here with the most beautiful woman in the place, or;" I swept my gaze over to Martha, who was still standing beside Erin, "tied for the most beautiful, anyway." The man's face was now distorted with anger, and he took a step towards me. I stepped forward to meet him, my eyes never leaving his. Before, I had been speaking loudly for the benefit of those around us, but now I was speaking in a controlled voice, pitched for his ears alone. "You can say what you want about me, you prick. I have no respect for arrogant shitheels like you, so I just don't care. But before you ever think about putting your hands on Erin again, without her consent, you would do well to remember the Pipe Wrench Incident. "When I was fourteen, two of the men my mother was having sex with, in exchange for drugs, decided that my sister Alison should join in their fun. She was just nine years old. Luckily, I was home at the time, but I was just a kid, and they were fully grown men. When it was over, they were in the hospital, and I was cleaning my pipe wrench with some WD-40 and a rag." I looked him up and down once, dismissively. "Remember that story the next time you're tempted to touch someone I love." I turned to Tom who had come over to stand with Martha. "I'm sorry I interrupted your lovely event, and please don't hold my bad manners against Erin. I don't want to cause any more trouble, so maybe we should be on our way." Tom held up his hand indicating that we should stay. "Dr. Allen, you're drunk and making an ass of yourself. Please see yourself out. On your way home, please consider what you would like me to say at the next Board meeting regarding your behavior tonight." As a chastened Dr. Allen left the reception, Erin leaned over and whispered in my ear, "So, I'm someone you love, am I?" Before I could stammer a reply, Erin kissed my cheek and led me away to get a drink. We avoided the topic of Dr. Allen for the rest of the evening until we were on our way back to the hotel. "Did you really put two men in the hospital with a pipe wrench?" I chuckled softly before responding. "That part of the story is 100% true. What I didn't mention, though, was that they were both stoned at the time and facing the other direction. They would have killed me in a fair fight." It was close to midnight by the time we made it back to the hotel. We held each other's hands as we walked to the elevators, and Erin leaned against me as the doors closed. "Davis, how would you like this evening to end?" My heart started racing and my hands trembled. "I; I want to be with you. But, I have never;" "Are you still a virgin?" "I kissed a girl once, back in high school, but it was nothing like kissing you. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my life, but I don't want to disappoint you." Erin tried to stay calm as she replied. "So, you think that I am some kind of floozy who is going to compare you to all my past conquests?" "No, that's not it at all, I;" "Or do you think that I am so shallow that I will get mad at you if it takes a little while for you to learn what I like?" "No, I don't think that either;" "Okay, then. Here is what's going to happen. When we get to our room, you are going to move some of the furniture out of the way, while I put on some music. You still remember how to dance, right? And then we will take things slowly. I will let you know what makes me feel good, and you will let me know what makes you feel even better. And we will be together, and that's all that matters." And that is what happened. Erin started a playlist of songs that she liked, and we slowly danced together in our room. After the first song ended, she nuzzled into my chest as she loosened my tie and undid the first two buttons of my shirt. When the next song started, she started gently kissing and then licking my chest, causing my manhood to stiffen almost painfully. "Well, hello, my rather large friend. You need to be patient, for now. But if you're good, I may kiss you as well before the night is done." Her sensuous voice, and the image it evoked, were definitely not conducive to patience, and I let out a low moan of pleasure. "That's what I like to hear," she murmured as she untucked my shirt and continued to undo my buttons until she could run her tongue over my nipples and tweak them with her teeth. She looked up at me with sultry, half-lidded eyes. "It's okay for you to touch me as well if you want," she said, as she took one of my hands and slid it under the back of her dress and down to her silky-smooth cheeks. She slid my other hand under the front of her dress so that it cupped her tit, and she sucked in a breath as I stroked my callused thumb over her nipple. "Now some women like it when you;" I kissed her before she could finish her thought. "Erin, I don't care what some women like, the only woman I want is you." "Oh," she replied in a breathy voice. "Well, I like it when you're a bit rougher with my tits. Not right away, I need to be in the mood; like I am now;" She lost her train of thought as my hand enveloped and massaged her tit, squeezing her nipple lightly between my thumb and forefinger as I lifted it away from her body. "Mmmm, yes. Just like that, baby." I felt a wave of heat roll up the fingers on my other hand, so I slid it further down until I felt a small triangle of material, that was slick with liquid heat. I slipped my finger a little further and felt her long smooth cunt open at my touch. "Oh, Baby," Erin whispered huskily into my ear. "We are going to have so much fun tonight." It was strange going back to my regular life after my night with Erin. The time with her was so incredible, and so beyond anything I could ever have imagined, that it didn't seem real. To be continued in part 4. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

Two things make up the meaning of Christmas: career advancement and extramarital affairs! For our last episode of 2025, we watched The Apartment (1960), directed by Billy Wilder and starring Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine. Lemmon plays C.C. "Bud" Baxter, a middleman at an insurance company who allows his superiors to use his apartment to conduct extramarital affairs while falling in love with Fran (MacLaine), a woman with her own secret affair. The Apartment was nominated for 10 Oscars (winning 5) and has been added to the Library of Congress National Film Registry. In this episode: cheating etiquette and cheap executives; using a broom to quiet your neighbors; the end of the Hays Code; sexuality in the late 1950s; Shirley MacLaine: Metaphysical Expert; do romantic comedies need a Big Kiss? (yes). Our recommendations: Cactus Flower (1969), It Happened One Night (1934) Support the show with a Ko-fi! ko-fi.com/blackgirlfilmclub Check out the rest of our socials at linktr.ee/blackgirlfilmclub

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 2 Dancing, and other forms of sentimentality. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.  As we finished the prep work, I asked Wilma about her day with Mary. "She is a good kid but is carrying a lot of anger and shame. We spent most of the day getting in touch with that anger. It takes some people years before they can express their emotions through art; it took her about five minutes. But we had to take some breaks to clean up the paint splatters afterward before they stained." "Oh shit! Sorry about that. I can pay to replace anything that;" "Nothing to apologize for; I asked her to express how she felt, and she did it in the way that felt right to her." "Well, I appreciate your taking the time. I am just her big brother; I feel so lost when it comes to parenting." "Being a parent doesn't mean that you know any more than anyone else, and it certainly doesn't mean that you know any better. For what it's worth, I think you are doing a fine job with your family. I know that you don't have your parents around to say it, but this old woman is mighty proud of who you are and of how you have stepped up for your brother and sisters. They are very lucky to have you." I turned away so that Wilma wouldn't see me getting choked up. I couldn't remember the last time that someone had said they were proud of me. Soon enough, though, it was dinner time, and Erin came into the kitchen with that same look of amusement on her face. "Sorry to bother the chef, but Lane needs some help that only a big brother can provide." When I gave her a quizzical look, she blushed. "It seems like he is going through puberty, which can pose; some new challenges. When I was assessing his ankle, he; well, indicated his interest in me in a way that can be difficult to hide, particularly while wearing sweatpants. It's natural for his body to react that way at that age, and it's nothing for him to feel badly about, but he was mortified. I think he could use a bit of brotherly guidance and understanding." I went to the living room and saw that Lane was curled up on the couch and looked like he was fighting back tears. "How are you doing, Buddy?" He couldn't even look at me he was so embarrassed. "I am so sorry; I just couldn't help it. I don't know why it started to get bigger, and I wanted it to stop, and it wouldn't and then she saw me, and;" he continued as he fought back a sob. "Can we just go home?" "Erin is a doctor. She knows how the human body works and has seen that kind of thing a hundred times. She isn't mad at you or embarrassed. She just feels bad that you feel so bad. This is just part of getting older and growing up. "Did I ever tell you about what happened in Miss Iron's class when I was a freshman? Miss Iron was a bit of a legend among the male students at our local high school. She was the youngest and prettiest teacher, by far, and even though she always dressed professionally, the clothing style had yet to be invented that could fully conceal her bountiful natural endowment. "Well, I liked Miss Irons a lot. She was one of the few teachers who looked past my difficulty with reading and writing. So, I developed a little crush on her, which was fine until the inevitable; hmm, physical demonstration of my crush; happened in class one day, just before she asked me to collect everyone's quizzes. I tried to delay, I tried to ask a friend to do it instead, but eventually, I had to stand up. It took me until my junior year to live that one down." As Lane listened to my story, he turned to face me and his second-hand embarrassment for me helped to push his embarrassment to the side. "So, what happened?" "Miss Irons was lovely and kind like she always was, but I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me or to get hit by a bolt of lightning. Things would have been fine if she hadn't mentioned what happened to the principal, who called Mom. She didn't find the story funny at all." I hadn't thought of the aftermath when I started telling Lane this particular story, but as they say, might as well put it in four-wheel drive and keep going. "Mom was mad?" "By then, Mom was pretty much always angry. I did my best to keep her away from you and the girls when she got that way, but yeah; she was mad." "Are you mad at me?" "No, Bud, I'm not. In a few years, once your embarrassment has died down a little, I will tease you mercilessly about this because that's what brothers do; and maybe threaten to tell your girlfriend, if you fall behind on your chores or homework. But I will never get mad at you for something that you can't control. And I promise that Erin isn't mad at you either." Just then, Mary poked her head in to tell us that dinner was on the table. "Are you safe now, or do you need a few more minutes." "I'm good. Thanks, Dad." After I helped Lane hobble into the dining room, we got down to the business of eating and teasing each other, but not necessarily in that order. It felt good; almost like what I imagined a real family would feel like. Eventually, the conversation turned to more serious matters, though, and Erin led off the questions. "So, how do you know Gran, and why are you wearing Grampy's favorite sweater? And, for what it's worth, I don't remember him filling it out in quite the way that you do." I blushed a bit as Wilma jumped in. "If Phillip had filled out that sweater like young Davis here, it wouldn't have stayed on him for very long, I can tell you that." "Gran!" Erin exclaimed, laughing while sounding scandalized. "I didn't need that mental image. Heck, none of us needed that mental image." "Oh, don't you worry, Dear. He still filled it out well enough, and it looked equally good on our bedroom floor." We were pretty much all blushing at that point, which I think was Wilma's objective, so I quickly changed the topic. "I am just your mother's plumber. I came out to fix her boiler and then finished the job earlier this week when a couple of parts came in that I needed." Wilma jumped in at that point and added her two cents to my story. "He also brought me my groceries and we had a lovely conversation. He is a real Renaissance gentleman, a rarity these days." Erin looked grateful but concerned. "Did you have enough money to cover the bill, Gran? You know I can help if you need;" I tried to jump in before Wilma could reply. "No need to worry, the bill was paid in full;" "Hogwash," Wilma exclaimed as I tried to finish, turning to Mary before she continued. "Your brother wouldn't let me pay him a cent for the work that he did. Not even for the parts that needed to be replaced! He is a very nice boy but a terrible businessman." I turned to Erin for support. "I figured your Gran has enough going on right now with her health and all. It was the least I could do to help her out." Erin looked at me with a strange expression on her face. I didn't have much experience with women, so I figured I must have made her angry somehow. Most of my interactions with women, including my sisters, seemed to end with them being upset with me for one reason or another, but she didn't sound angry when she spoke. "Thank you, Davis, that was very sweet of you." "Yeah, well; you see, it's just; pass the fish, please." "That still doesn't explain why you're wearing Grampy's favorite sweater. When I was a little girl, I used to curl up in Grampy's lap and snuggle into that sweater as he read to me. He was wearing it when I danced my first dance with him in front of the fireplace. Do you remember that old record player, Gran? You used to bring it out and we would waltz around the living room to Moon River." "I still have that record player here somewhere, let me go see if I can find it." Erin started to protest, but it was too late. "To finish answering your question, Erin, we were here today because your Gran offered to mentor Mary. I tried to politely decline, but your Gran is pretty persistent when she wants to be." "That sounds like Gran. Most of the time when she makes a suggestion, it is really a command." "While we are asking questions, how is Lane's ankle?" "It's pretty badly sprained, and he will need to use crutches to walk for the next couple of weeks. You should bring him to the hospital to get some X-rays done as well, to make sure that he doesn't have any fractures." I could feel myself deflate as she mentioned X-rays. "I'm not trying to be cheap, but are the X-rays absolutely necessary? We don't have the best insurance; we got it through the exchange. I guess it's better than nothing, but the deductible is pretty high, and my other sister, Alison, her college tuition is due soon. But if you say it's important, I will put in some extra hours to make it work." It didn't usually bother me that we were poor. Heck, most everyone we knew, except the McDougals, was poor. But it hit home when you had to tell a beautiful doctor with bright amber eyes that you couldn't afford an X-ray for your little brother unless it was urgent. "Tell you what. I will be working at the hospital in Petoskey tomorrow, so why don't you bring Lane by, and I will take care of him? I will make sure that he gets a pair of loaner crutches for as long as he needs them." "You don't need to do that for us." Erin gave me another one of her looks, this one I was more familiar with; I was pretty sure it was annoyance. "So, just to be clear, you can look after my Gran, fix her boiler for free, and bring her groceries whenever you feel like it, but I can't look after your brother and make sure that his ankle is treated properly?" "Well, when you put it that way, I sound like a bit of a jackass. I'm sorry." "Apology accepted. Come by the hospital at 11 AM tomorrow." Before we could continue, the sound of a 45 playing on an old record player filled the house. You could hear the hisses and pops before Ella Fitzgerald's voice began to sing "Dream a Little Dream of Me." Chapter 3. We got up from the table and followed the music back to the living room. I helped Lane out of his chair while he half-hobbled and half-hopped along beside me. Wilma had set her ancient record player up in the corner beside a stack of old 45s, and she had a faraway look in her eyes as she looked out the picture window toward the lake. "I think it's time for me to ask the prettiest girl in the place to dance," I said, as my eyes swept across the room. "But unfortunately, it's a three-way tie. So, will you do me the honor?" I said as I held out my hand to Wilma. "I haven't danced since Phillip passed. You know, we used to dance together every Friday night. It didn't matter where we were or what we were doing, we would always make time to dance at least one song together, even if the music was only in our heads." "I imagine I will be a pretty poor partner compared to Phillip, but I will try not to step on your toes." Wilma and I ended up dancing a slow foxtrot to "Unforgettable" by Nat King Cole. She smiled at me as we slowly circled the living room. "You're a very good dancer, young man." "Our mother taught me when I was very young." Before she began with the drugs and men, our mother had been a showgirl in New York and then Las Vegas. When she got pregnant with me, she moved back to Mackinaw City and started teaching ballroom dancing at a local studio. By the time I was five, I was her practice partner of choice, and she always insisted that I lead, despite being only half her size. "The man always leads, Darling, that's just the way of the world." I was hardly a man at the time, but I never disagreed with my mother when she was in a good mood, because I knew it could shift in an instant. So, I learned to dance, and I learned to lead. The memories came flooding back as I guided Wilma into a soft over-sway, and she smiled with delight. "Oh my, you do know how to dance!" I couldn't help but smile back. "I can't take all the credit. I think Phillip must have infused this sweater with his fancy footwork." As the song ended, I took a step back and did my best to give Wilma a gracious bow. "It was a pleasure dancing with you, my lady." "The pleasure was all mine, good sir." I turned toward Mary and held out my hand. She hesitated before Wilma declared, "There are no wallflowers in this house." Mary slowly stood but looked anxious as I took her hand. "Davis, I don't know how to dance. Mom was; she was too far gone to teach me by the time I was old enough to learn." "That's okay," I reassured her. "If there is anything that Mom made sure of, it's that I know how to lead. Just relax, and I will guide you through it." Wilma helped Lane, who had taken over as DJ, to choose a slower song so that Mary would feel more comfortable, and I heard the opening bars of "What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong. I started to lead Mary through a slow rumba, and she picked up the steps very quickly. She was a natural. I felt a sudden stab of regret as we moved together across the floor. "I'm sorry. I should have made time to teach you to dance. But the last few years, it has just taken everything I have to keep us;" "It's alright. You've had other things on your mind. And look; you are teaching me how to dance, now." As Mary grew more confident, I guided her through a simple underarm turn, and we ended with a dip, which made her giggle and earned a round of applause from the others. Finally, I turned to Erin, who was sitting on the couch beside Lane. I suddenly felt very shy and, for the first time that evening, she looked nervous as well. "Would you dance with me, Erin?" She didn't reply but stood and took my hand. We waited for a moment while Wilma and Lane chose a new 45 and then listened to the pop and hiss as it started to play. Soon, an alto saxophone introduced the Henri Mancini version of "Moon River," and we started a slow waltz. Although there was space between us, it was bridged by an electric charge that connected and drew us together. Even though I spent most of the dance looking over Erin's shoulder, every detail of her beauty was etched in my memory, and I felt a warm breeze pass between us, raising goosebumps on my skin. We barely noticed the pause as the song ended, and a new one began until Etta James began to sing. At last, my love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song The song was in 4/4 time, so I switched to a foxtrot and Erin followed as we glided across the smooth wood of the living room floor. I was so caught up in the moment, and in Erin, that I led her through a turn that transitioned into an over sway, before I stepped backward, allowing her to gently pivot into me. Our eyes met and I was lost in them again. Before we could break the spell, a heavy gust of wind shook the house, and the power flickered out. The room went dark, which sharpened my remaining senses. Suddenly, the warmth of Erin's breath on my neck felt like wildfire across my skin. We were motionless for a three-heartbeat eternity before the lights flickered and came back on. I let go of Erin and felt all of my longing and awkwardness rush back in. "Thank you, Erin. That was;" I couldn't finish; words didn't seem enough to express how I felt. "I should check the breakers and make sure that everything is alright, and then we should go. Why don't I wash these clothes and drop them back for you later." Wilma just smiled and shook her head. "If you like them, please keep them. Otherwise, they will just grow old and musty like me." A little while later, we said our goodbyes, but I promised to bring Lane to the hospital the next morning. Wilma told Mary that she would see her on Wednesday after school and again the next Sunday. I was expecting Mary to protest, but she just gave a meek, "Yes, Wilma." I was nervous when I took Lane to the hospital the next day. The deductible on our insurance was high enough that we paid for pretty much anything less serious than a severed limb out of pocket. Erin, however, was as good as her word. After the X-ray confirmed that there were no breaks or fractures in the bones around his ankle, she re-wrapped it and arranged for a pair of loaner crutches that he could use for as long as he needed them. Before we left, Erin asked me if I wanted to grab a coffee in the cafeteria, to which I readily agreed. I gave my phone to Lane so he could amuse himself while Erin and I talked. "I just wanted to say how much I appreciate what you did for Gran. I do what I can, but I spend half my time at the Children's Hospital down in Grand Rapids right now and I am often on call while I am here. I just don't have the time to give her the help that she needs." "Honestly, it's no big deal. I do a lot of work around Good Hart since the bigger plumbing companies don't like to travel that far, so I don't mind looking in on her while I am there. And she seems to have taken a real interest in Mary, so the least I can do is to bring her some groceries and help around the place a bit." Erin pursed her lips and looked like she had just bitten into a lemon. "The 'least you can do' is more than the rest of our family can be bothered to do put together, so thank you." "I meant to ask you about that. What did your Gran do to end up so isolated from the rest of your family?" "The rest of my family is; there is no nice way to put it, they're snobs. None of them have any interest in spending time 'up north' as they call it, and they can't wait for Gran to move into a retirement home and die so they can get their money and forget about this place. That's why no one comes to visit Gran anymore, even for Thanksgiving; it's part of their campaign to convince her to sell her land to the McDougals. Before you came along, I thought they were going to succeed." "Well, excuse my language, but fuck them. I don't know Wilma that well, but I will do what I can to make sure that she gets to spend her remaining days in the place that she loves." "That's easy to say, but harder to do once the McDougals and their minions start coming by your place, offering you money and making threats unless you back off." "Well, if they do, they will find out what every teacher who ever taught me learned the hard way. I am bad at taking orders and even worse at following instructions. I am not afraid of the McDougal boys." My exclamation brought a smile to Erin's pretty face. I decided that I would be willing to do quite a lot to see that smile on her face again. But there was one thing I still didn't understand. "Why aren't you on board with the rest of your family? You must be under a lot of pressure to abandon your Gran like the rest of them." "My father, Gran's youngest son, Max, died shortly after I was born, and my mother moved the family to California where she remarried into a family that had a little money but a great deal of pretension and ambition. My mother picked up that insatiable need for money and status like it was a virus. "When I was a child, my mother and stepfather spent summers and holidays traveling the world, staying in places where children weren't welcome. Although they wanted nothing to do with Gran and Grampy and their 'vermin-filled shack in the middle of nowhere', they were more than happy to leave me with them while they were away. "They would put me on a plane to Grand Rapids while they jetted off to their spas and their fine dining. Gran and Grampy were the only people who cared for me, and they became my whole world. "When I was 14, I was staying with Gran and Grampy, and I caught a fever that was so bad that I nearly died. It was a pretty grim time. My parents even thought about flying home from Monaco to be with me. They didn't, but it was the only time in my entire childhood that they considered it. But I will always remember how kind the doctors and nurses were to me when I was sick. That's why I became a pediatrician and moved home." "Isn't California home?" "Home is where the people that you love are, and so this will always be my home. Or it will be until Gran passes on, anyway." We sat in silence for a while, sipping our coffee. Before long, it was time for me to go. "This might sound crazy, but since the rest of your family aren't going to be here to celebrate Thanksgiving with your Gran, how about you and I try to give her one more Thanksgiving to remember." Erin brightened at the idea, and the smile returned to her face. "That would be amazing! Why don't I give you my number, and we can figure out how to make it happen!" Chapter 4. For the next few weeks, Mary continued to meet with Wilma on Wednesdays and Sundays. I would often take the opportunity to bring her groceries or other supplies while I dropped Mary off and, if the weather was agreeable, do some fishing. Once he could walk without crutches, Lane came along as well, in quest of another monster steelhead. Unfortunately, all he caught was some yellow perch and rock bass, but it was nice to spend the day with him down on the dock. I saw Erin a few times at Wilma's as we made plans for Thanksgiving. She seemed to particularly enjoy talking with me while I split firewood out by the shed. It was hard work, and I was often drenched with sweat by the time I was done, but she didn't seem to mind. And she worked while we talked, helping to stack the larger pieces and collecting the smaller ones for kindling. The one point of contention in our plan was how Erin would get to Wilma's on Thanksgiving Day. She was slated to work a 12-hour shift the evening before, ending at seven in the morning, and she worried that if she went home to rest, she would sleep through the entire day. Her solution was to drive out to Wilma's after her shift and catch a few hours of sleep when she got there. I thought that driving that far after working all night seemed like a terrible idea, so I offered to give her a ride instead. She did not like that one bit. "I don't want you to make an extra trip when I am perfectly capable of driving myself." It sounded like she was digging in for a fight, so I tried a different tactic to convince her. "I need to stop at the hospital anyway, to return Lane's crutches. I can kill two birds with one stone and pick you up at the same time." She didn't buy that rationale either so, reluctantly, I resorted to the truth. "I am sure you're a great driver, but if you drive yourself, I will be up that morning anyway, worrying that you are safe. I know it doesn't make sense, but I have been looking after my siblings for so long its second nature for me to worry, and I can't seem to turn it off. So please, let me pick you up. But for me, not for you. And do you know how rarely I get to be gallant these days? I will feel like your knight in shining armor." That finally got a laugh from Erin. "Alright, you win. Why don't you pick me up at 7:15 at the hospital? You can sweep me up onto your trusty steed and carry me away to Gran's house." "If by trusty steed you mean rusty old GMC truck, then it's a deal." The morning of Thanksgiving dawned chilly and gray, with a cold wind blowing in off the lake. I was up early to make sure that I made it to the hospital on time, and I was listening to the local AM country station as I drove when the DJ started his break. "A happy Thanksgiving to all our listeners. If you're on the roads today, be aware that there is a severe weather warning in effect for the area north of Cadillac and into the upper peninsula. We're expecting a combination of high winds and lake-effect snow to make driving hazardous, and you should be prepared for possible power interruptions and outages." I was relieved that Erin had agreed to let me pick her up and that I had invested in good snow tires for my pickup. The snow had already started by the time I reached the hospital, and I pulled my jacket tightly around me as I went inside. I dropped Lane's crutches with the duty nurse and waited for several minutes before Erin arrived. She looked exhausted, and the gentle smile that I loved was nowhere in evidence. "Hey, Erin. Are you okay?" "I'm fine. I just had a long shift, but I am ready to head out." She came up to me and gave me a hesitant look. "Actually, I could really use a hug if that's alright." Without a word, I wrapped my arms around her, and she buried her face in my sweater. Hidden from the world by the folds of my jacket, I felt her body start to shake. The tremors lasted for a minute before they gentled and then finally stopped. I looked out the window at the falling snow to give her a moment to compose herself. "Let's head to Gran's house. This weather isn't going to get better any time soon." With that, we got in my truck and started the drive up to Good Hart. Erin sat in silence and looked out the window. "If you want to talk, I probably can't help with doctor problems; but I am a good listener." It took Erin a minute before she opened up. "Most of the time, I love being a pediatrician. Kids come to me scared and in pain, and I help them to get better. But sometimes, it's just too much. Around midnight last night, an ambulance brought in a mother and daughter. Her boyfriend had been drinking; and he got violent. The little girl tried to protect her mother and; and; "It's one thing to treat a grown woman, you know. I mean it's still pretty bad, but; that little girl. Fuck. One thing I've learned from this job is that monsters are real." I wanted to give Erin another hug, but since I was driving, I just reached over to take her hand. "I'm sorry." My words seemed so incredibly inadequate; considering what she had just dealt with; but she squeezed my hand. "Thanks for listening." We drove on in silence, and by the time we pulled into Wilma's laneway, Erin was gently snoring with her head against the window. I stopped as close as I could to the house before lifting her out of the cab. She tucked her head into my shoulder, and I carried her inside, where Wilma was already busy in the kitchen. She came out to greet us, and I spoke to her in a low voice. "Erin had a very tough night. I think some rest will do her a world of good." Wilma helped Erin out of her boots and coat and then showed us through to the guest bedroom, where I laid Erin on the bed. The room was filled with pictures of Erin from when she was younger; standing on the dock with an older but handsome man who I guessed must be Phillip, curled up in a ball on the sofa, book in hand, and smiling in her cap and gown as she graduated. In each picture, I could see hints of the beautiful woman she would become. By the time I returned with the rest of my family, the storm had begun to pick up. Snow drifts were accumulating against the house and shed, so we brought everything with us into the house that we might need for the evening. It took some convincing, but Sharon and I took over in the kitchen while Wilma, Alison, Mary, and Lane started a game of Scrabble in the living room. Once the preparations were well underway, I laid in as much wood for the fireplace as I could. With the high winds and heavy snow, I was worried that we might lose power, and I wanted to make sure that we prepared, just in case. The radiators and boiler would provide almost no heat if there was a prolonged power outage, but the fireplace had a high-efficiency insert that would keep the house warm, as long as we built up a good bed of coals. Lane insisted on helping me with the firewood, and after a half dozen trips to the woodshed and back, we both looked like live-action versions of the abominable snowman. Wilma showed some sympathy for our plight, while our sisters had a good-natured laugh at our expense. By the early afternoon, dinner was almost ready, and Wilma sent me to wake Erin. She had barely moved since I had tucked her in and seemed so peaceful in her sleep. I leaned over and spoke softly to her until she opened her eyes. After a moment of confusion, she broke into a shy smile. "I guess we made it to Gran's." "That we did, we got here close to six hours ago." Her eyes flew open, and she tried to get up until I reassured her. "We've got things under control. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. Take your time; and maybe give yourself a few minutes for that pillow line on your cheek to fade." I turned to leave, so she could have some privacy, but she reached out and took my hand. "I just wanted to say thank you again for earlier. I am not used to having someone I can talk to; someone I can trust. It's only been Gran and Grampy, and me for so long, and I didn't want to burden them. But I shouldn't have dumped my troubles on you like that, we barely know each other." "I was just glad that you felt comfortable enough to share how you felt with me. Today was probably the worst day of that little girl's life. I am sure she was terrified, confused, and in a lot of pain. But what she'll remember is the angel who comforted her and treated her with kindness and love. "I need to get back to the kitchen, or I will burn something. Fair warning, this is my first time cooking a Thanksgiving turkey, so you may want to load your plate up with fixings and sides, just in case." As it turned out, the turkey wasn't perfect, but it wasn't that bad, and the gravy was tasty as heck (probably because Wilma made it.) We had mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, and peas as sides, with the obligatory cranberry sauce (from a can). The conversation at dinner was a chaotic mixture of laughter, stories, and the kind of teasing that you only get when you bring five siblings together over a hearty meal. It didn't take Erin long to choose a side in the battle of the siblings, and soon, it was the four girls against Lane and me, with Wilma as our impartial referee. I don't know how Lane felt, but for me, it was worth being ganged up on just to see Erin and my sisters smiling and laughing. Although he tried to hide it, it was clear that Lane still had a bit of a crush on Erin, so I imagined that he was just fine with making her smile as well. For dessert, Erin brought pumpkin and apple pies that she had bought at the bakery in Petoskey, which we ate with some vanilla ice cream from the local creamery. I was sure there would be some dessert left over, given the amount that we all ate for dinner, but somehow, we finished it all. Everyone pitched in with the dishes and then we moved to the living room where we played cards and some more board games. As we played, Mary asked Wilma about some of her more memorable Thanksgivings, and she got a faraway smile. For the next hour, she regaled us with stories of humble times with the kids by the lake and, in later days, fancier celebrations with some of the families that Phillip befriended while they sat for portraits. As our last game of Scrabble ended, Sharon looked at Wilma with a mischievous grin. "Mary was telling me about the dance party that you had a few weeks ago here in your living room. Rumor has it that my big brother can dance! I was hoping, if you asked him nicely, that we could all see him in action." Wilma got up from her chair and started to move toward the hall closet. "Lane, come along and help, please. I am far too old to be carting around a heavy record player." Lane hopped up and went to help Wilma, while the rest of us began to move the furniture out of the way. As Lane set up, Wilma admonished the rest of us. "Remember, there is only one rule about dancing in my house: no wallflowers." With that, Lane started the first song, and I asked Wilma to dance. Alison followed suit, asking Lane to dance, and soon she was teaching him how to lead. Finally, Erin stood as well and gave a deep bow to Mary. "It would be my honor, enchanting lady, if I could have this dance." With a laugh, Mary stood, and soon we were all moving around the room, trying not to bump into each other or step on each other's toes. For the next hour, we danced, laughed, and pretty much forgot about the world outside. Lane even got up the courage to dance with Erin, although he stayed so far away from her that you would have thought she was radioactive. I took a couple of turns with Erin and was amazed at the way she melted into my arms. When we danced, there was a wave of knowing smirks from my sisters and a pleased smile from Wilma, but I didn't care. I could have danced with her all night. Unfortunately, during my third dance with Erin, the real world decided to interrupt our festivities. Erin and I had just started a turn when the power went out. I instinctively pulled Erin into my arms to protect her, and then I leaned in through the darkness and kissed her. She returned the kiss, ran her hand through my hair, and let out a small moan. "Do you think the power will come back on?" Lane's question cut through the fog of my lust and longing. "Probably not until sometime after the storm has passed. So, we should all plan on spending the night here and then figuring things out in the morning." With Wilma's agreement, we got settled in for the evening. After some protest, Wilma agreed to sleep in the guest room since it had a direct line of sight to the thermoelectric stove fan that helped circulate the heat from the fireplace. My three sisters slept in Wilma's bed, both to share body heat and because it was the larger of the two beds in the house. Lane slept on the couch, while Erin and I slept on the floor in front of the fireplace. Erin laid out an older sleeping bag, for comfort, with some bedding and blankets on top. In deference to Lane, she waited until she was under the blankets before she shimmied off her pants, while I stoked the fireplace. I made one more pass through the house, to check on Wilma and my sisters, but it seemed they had already fallen asleep. Even Lane had passed right out, despite his proximity to the pants-less Erin. I set a quiet alarm on my phone for two-hour intervals so that I could get up and add wood to the fire, ensuring that it would last all night. Looking down at the makeshift bed where Erin was watching me, I suddenly felt incredibly shy and anxious. I took my sweater and pants off as quickly as I could and set them on a chair before crawling under the blankets next to her. I didn't want to be presumptuous, so I stayed as far over to one side as I could. I had just settled in when I heard Erin's soft voice from behind me. "You can come a little closer. I won't bite, you know." My brain froze with indecision, but my heart knew the score and it started beating at a furious rate. I heard her shifting behind me, and I felt an arm wrap itself around my chest. My senses were on fire. The faint scent of lavender from her hair washed over me like a field of wildflowers. "Was everyone safe when you made your patrol?" I slowly rolled over so that my forehead was lightly touching hers, and I could see the flickering of the fire reflected in her eyes. "I know it's silly, but I can't sleep until I know that everyone I love is safe. Even when she is away at college, Alison texts me each night to let me know she is okay. I will make another round later after I stoke the fire." "It's not silly at all; I feel safe when I'm with you too.  Why don't you tell me your story, Davis Crawford." She must have felt me stiffen, and she started to lightly brush her fingertips through the hair on the back of my neck. "You don't have to if you're not comfortable with me yet, but I would like to hear it someday when you're ready." We sat in silence for another few minutes, while the tension slowly drained from my body. It had been over 15 years; since before the drugs and alcohol got too bad with my mother; since someone had touched me with kindness and love, and I was helpless before the gentle onslaught of Erin's fingers. Eventually, I started talking. "Things weren't always bad with Mom; I remember there being more laughter than anger when I was little. She was very beautiful, and there was a procession of men in her life, even back then, but most of them treated me well. I guess they wanted to make a good impression on her. When I was four or five, though, she took up with a man from a rougher crowd. She started in with the drinking and drugs, and they never really stopped. She got pregnant with that man, and Alison was born. From there, it was like a rock sliding down the side of a hill. It starts slowly, but soon it's rolling downhill in leaps and bounds. "After Sharon was born, fewer men came around. My mom was still beautiful, but how many guys are interested in a single mother who has three kids from three different men? I had just turned ten when she left me in charge for the weekend and flew down to Vegas with some friends from the club where she waitressed and danced. A bit more than nine months later, she had Mary. "The one thing I can say for my mom is that she mostly managed to stay clean while she was pregnant. But once Mary arrived, the hill got steeper, and the rock started plummeting downwards. As fewer men showed an interest in her, Mom had to blame someone, and we kids were handy targets. That's when the hitting started. I learned pretty quickly that she didn't much care who she hit, so I made sure that I was always close at hand, to try and spare the little ones. If she was going to throw plates at someone, I figured it had better be me. "By the time I was 12, I was the only one caring for my siblings. When Mom came home drunk or stoned after her shift at the bar, I would steal enough of her tip money to buy food for my sisters' lunches. That was the worst of it, and I didn't think that we would make it through. I am not sure we would have without our landlord, Mr. Johnson. "He lived in the apartment below us and would take us in on the weekends when my mother was out with her boyfriends, feed us dinner, and let us watch a little television. I never found out why he lived such a lonely life, but he helped me keep our family together until I was old enough to handle things myself, so I will always be grateful to him." I could see tears starting to pool in the corner of Erin's eyes. "You don't need to hear the rest of this;" Erin stopped me mid-sentence by kissing my lips. "You never got to be a kid, Davis. My whole life I felt sorry for myself because my parents didn't want or care for me, but at least I had Gran and Grampy. You had no one." Even though we were lying on an old lumpy sleeping bag on a rough hardwood floor with only a fireplace for heat, I had never felt safer in my life than I did with her right then. To be continued in part 3. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

Lístky na Godzone ženskú konferenciu nájdeš tu: https://nesputana.godzone.sk/V dnešnej epizóde Flešbekov privítal Ivan členky organizačného tímu Godzone Ženskej konferencie 2026 – Terezu Kmotorkovú, Marušku Grexovú a Evu Dohnálovú. Okrem toho, že rozprávajú svoje príbehy o tom, ako spoznali Ježiša, približujú aj zákulisie príprav Ženskej konferencie a hovoria o tom, čo ňou chcú prinášať ženám na Slovensku a v Českej republike. Takisto svedčia o zázrakoch, ktoré Pán Boh vykonal počas minulých ročníkov konferencie, a na záver sa zamýšľajú nad tým, čo by mala počuť každá žena a čo naopak ony potrebujú počuť od mužov.0:00 Úvod a predstavenie1:27 Miska otázok1:55 Chcela by Evka radšej dovolenku v Mexiku alebo na Aljaške?2:15 Maruška: Turistika alebo posilňovňa?2:26 Ako si človek získa Terezu?2:50 Má Tereza čas starať sa sama o seba?3:30 Aká je Maruškina obľúbená rozprávka z detstva?3:59 Ak by si Evka mohla zmeniť meno, aké by to bolo?5:35 Súťaž o knihu OTEC: https://www.godzoneshop.sk/produkt/otec-mark-mary-ames/7:38 Ako sa Maruška, Evka a Tereza dostali k Pánovi?16:53 Prečo je Ženská konferencia taký fenomén medzi ženami?20:50 Autentickosť na Ženskej konferencii26:35 Čo túžia, aby ženy na konferencii zažili?28:17 Svedectvá z konferencie 33:02 Ako Ivan vníma ženskú konferenciu?36:56 Téma konferencie: “…,ale Boh”42:56 Ako bude konferencia vyzerať prakticky?45:36 Budú na konferencii aj muži?47:58 Za čo sa Maruška, Evka a Tereza v tomto období modlia? 54:22 Čo by chceli, aby každá žena na Slovensku a v Českej republike? 55:30 Čo potrebujú počuť od muža? 58:32 Poďakovanie a záver

Hour 4 of December 18, 2025 Jacob Townsend talks with Lee Sterling, of Paramount Sports, to get his handicap of the Music City and Reliaquest Bowls, as well as first round CFP games. Then, Jacob gets Bud's CFP bracket prediction. Finally, it's time for birthdays. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this episode of Healthy Mind, Healthy Life, Avik Chakraborty sits down with Bud Kraus, creator of the podcast Seriously Bud, for a real conversation about living with chronic depression, seasonal affective disorder and suicidal ideation. Bud shares what “silent suffering” looked like for him, why so many people mask pain with humor and what actually helped him move one day at a time. They talk about practical coping tools, getting support without shame, the role of counseling and medication and how purpose and family can shift your relationship with mental health over time. If you're navigating depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts or emotional burnout, this episode focuses on grounded support, honest language and why asking for help is a strength at any age. About the Guest: Bud Kraus is a long-time educator and creator in the WordPress community and the host of Seriously Bud, a human-story podcast exploring life journeys, resilience and reinvention. He speaks openly about his experience with depression and suicidal ideation and how support systems, creativity and meaning helped him move forward. Key Takeaways: Depression can be chronic and still invisible. Bud describes how people often use a “happy face” while privately struggling with mental health. Seasonal shifts can amplify symptoms. He names winter and shorter days as a trigger pattern tied to seasonal affective disorder. Normalize asking direct questions. A pivotal moment came when someone finally asked Bud if he had suicidal thoughts, helping him realize those thoughts aren't “normal” for most people. Progress is usually a small pivot, not a miracle moment. Bud points to finding a trusted professional and structured support as a turning point. Coping can be practical and personal. For Bud, playing guitar created short-term relief and mental transport when the day felt unmanageable. Medication and therapy can be part of a healthy toolkit. He frames both as support options, not moral judgments. Purpose can return later than you expect. Bud ties healing to relationships, family and future joy that felt impossible during darker seasons. If you feel at risk, pause and reach out. Contact a trusted person, a mental health professional or your local emergency number. In the US, you can call or text 988. If you're in immediate crisis, contact local emergency services or your regional suicide prevention helpline. Here are reliable, widely used crisis lines by region: United States  :   988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, or chat at 988lifeline.org (24/7). SAMHSA+1 Crisis Text Line — text HOME to 741741 (24/7). Crisis Text Line LGBTQ+ (The Trevor Project, youth) — call 1-866-488-7386 or text START to 678678 (24/7). The Trevor Project+1 Trans Lifeline — US (877) 565-8860 (hours vary; peer support). translifeline.org+1 Canada  :   9-8-8: Suicide Crisis Helpline — call or text 9-8-8 (24/7). 9-8-8: Suicide Crisis Helpline+1 Crisis Text Line (via Kids Help Phone) — text 686868 (24/7). Crisis Text Line Trans Lifeline — Canada (877) 330-6366 (hours vary). translifeline.org United Kingdom & Ireland:     Samaritans (UK & ROI) — call 116 123 (free, 24/7). Samaritans+1 Shout (UK) – Crisis Text Line affiliate — text SHOUT to 85258 (24/7). Shout 85258+1 50808 / “Text About It” (Ireland) — text HELLO/TALK to 50808 (24/7). Text About It+1 Australia  :   Lifeline — call 13 11 14 (24/7) or chat online. Lifeline New Zealand  :   1737 “Need to talk?” — call or text 1737 (24/7). Connect with the Guest: Website: https://seriouslybud.com/  Email: https://www.podmatch.com/hostdetailpreview/avik Disclaimer: This video is for educational and informational purposes only. The views expressed are the personal opinions of the guest and do not reflect the views of the host or Healthy Mind By Avik™️. We do not intend to harm, defame, or discredit any person, organization, brand, product, country, or profession mentioned. All third-party media used remain the property of their respective owners and are used under fair use for informational purposes. By watching, you acknowledge and accept this disclaimer Healthy Mind By Avik™️ is a global platform redefining mental health as a necessity, not a luxury. Born during the pandemic, it's become a sanctuary for healing, growth and mindful living. Hosted by Avik Chakraborty. storyteller, survivor, wellness advocate. this channel shares powerful podcasts and soul-nurturing conversations on: • Mental Health & Emotional Well-being • Mindfulness & Spiritual Growth • Holistic Healing & Conscious Living • Trauma Recovery & Self-Empowerment With over 4,400+ episodes and 168.4K+ global listeners, join us as we unite voices, break stigma and build a world where every story matters. Subscribe and be part of this healing journey. Contact Brand: Healthy Mind By Avik™ Email: www.healthymindbyavik.com Based in: India & USA Open to collaborations, guest appearances, coaching and strategic partnerships. Let's connect to create a ripple effect of positivity. 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December 17, 2025 Hour 3 Seth Everett & Bud Elliott. Seth talks Syracuse and why they don't matter anymore. Biggest game inthe history of Montana. Bud talks CFB Playoffs and who will take the Michigan job.

Rok v parlamente sa skončil koaličnou expresnou 11. novelou Trestného zákona bleskovým zrušením Úradu na ochranu oznamovateľov, vrátane prelomenie veta prezidenta. A krikom a hádkami. Slovensko rozdelila aj vládna energopomoc. Opozícia protestovala aj mimovládky protestujú v uliciach.Prečo opozícia označuje novelu trestného zákona za darček mafii a Tiborovi Gašparovi? Budú za diskusie o Benešových dekrétoch padať tresty? Prečo na seba v parlamente kričia a útočia a prečo sa musí protestovať v uliciach? Ako by pomáhali seniorom a domácnostiam progresívci ak energopomoc aj trináste dôchodky ostro kritizujú? A má opozícia nejaký spoločný plán a vie sa dohodnúť aj s Matovičom?Braňo Závodský sa rozprával s podpredsedom Národnej rady SR za hnutie Progresívne Slovensko Martinom Dubécim.

This extraordinary year continues to deliver new surprises for the air cargo sector and the world alike, particularly in the field of cross-border e-commerce logistics. As highlighted in our E-commerce Report on page 4, higher US tariffs and the end of US 'de minimis' exemptions have had a profound impact on e-commerce flows, prompting a significant shift in China-US freighter capacity to other markets globally. An initial steep decline in air freight volumes from China to the US has subsequently moderated, although it is still significant – especially from Hong Kong and southern China. Exports of low-value and e-commerce goods from China to Europe are up by around 60% – double the growth rate a year ago. Some European airports such as Budapest (BUD) have seen their overall air cargo volumes rise by close to 50% this year, although the rapid growth began even before US President Trump's interventions this year. Çelebi Group CEO Dave Dorner, in an interview on page 12, estimates that cargo through BUD has risen by around 200% in the last two years. As the Europe Report highlights (page 20), Europe's top 10 cargo airports have seen barely 1% growth in international air cargo traffic this year, whereas smaller, specialist cargo airports – often favoured by e-commerce shippers – have grown much more rapidly. Alongside BUD, Prague, Warsaw, Liège, Brussels, and East Midlands airports have reported significant rises in cargo traffic. Elsewhere, various cargo airports in Asia have recorded strong growth again this year, with southeast Asian countries including Vietnam and Thailand among those helping to replace China as sources for US imports. Another highlight in Asia is India, as the country's exports and air cargo capabilities continue to build. Those capabilities will include a new major airport for the Mumbai Metropolitan Region from the end of this year with the opening of Navi Mumbai International Airport (page 34). Its opening as 'complementary capacity' to BOM marks a key stage in the fulfilment of a dual-airport strategy for the region, and for India's air cargo market. The new airport is also less than 20km north of India's largest container port, JNPT, and there are ambitious plans to create synergies between these air and ocean nodes. Potential synergies between air and ocean freight are a recurring theme in this edition of CAAS, highlighted in the interview with Kale Logistics' CEO Amar More on page 28, along with the potential of Ai within air cargo. Both also featured among the discussions at October's ACHL conference in Copenhagen (page 46). But speakers at ACHL cautioned that the potential of Ai within air cargo was limited by the quality of the data that feed it, which must remain a priority focus area for stakeholders throughout the sector.

In this episode, Bud Williams shares a timeless, experience-driven perspective on livestock marketing that challenges conventional thinking and expands how producers view profitability. Rather than focusing solely on selling animals, Bud explains why true marketing success comes from a whole-system approach that includes buying decisions, grazing management, inventory control, cash flow, and understanding market cycles. Drawing from decades of hands-on experience, Bud breaks down commodity cash markets, futures, and direct marketing—while emphasizing that profit is made at the time of purchase, not by hoping for higher prices later. This classic presentation remains as relevant today as ever, offering practical wisdom for producers navigating volatile markets and long-term business sustainability. Bud details how market cycles truly work, why declining markets often create the best opportunities, and how poor pricing discipline across the industry leads to instability. He also explains why scale isn't required for profitability—clarity, discipline, and smart decision-making are.

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 1 Love, bastards, and what we leave behind. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. The Plumber, The Painter, and the Wind off the Lake Prologue I have never been much for following instructions or doing what I'm told. In eighth grade, we were assigned to make a volcano in science class. I figured that if the eruption looked good with a couple of tablespoons of baking soda, then it would look even better with the whole container! And what better place for a natural disaster than the teacher's desk at the front of the class. I was right; the whole container of baking soda produced an impressive explosion. What I didn't count on, however, was it producing a week-long suspension from school and a beating from my mother. In high school, we had to take an art class to graduate. Our teacher loved still life drawing and would ramble endlessly about how it revealed the beauty that is in the everyday objects that surround us. I guess he wanted us to reveal the beauty in the bowl of fruit that he had put in the middle of the classroom, but the most beautiful things that I could see were Brittany Johnson's D-cups which filled out her sweater gloriously. At the end of the class, there were 29 drawings of a bowl of fruit and one drawing of a beautiful girl's smile (amongst other details). Although I was suspended for two days, I got a date with Brittany who loved my drawing, so I feel like I came out ahead on that one. In my last year of school, the final mathematics exam asked the following question: Determine the points of intersection between the following parabolas and lines. Illustrate fully. While the other students slaved away to solve the listed problems in the allotted time, I fully illustrated a drawing of our math teacher, Mr. Aaronson, dancing a slow waltz in a field of sunflowers with Mrs. Stevens, the geography teacher. It was the worst-kept secret in the school that our two shyest teachers had massive crushes on each other, and after four years of watching them pine away, I thought they could use a little push. I failed the test, but Mr. Aaronson showed my drawing to Mrs. Stevens during a particularly dull staff meeting, and when it made her blush and smile, he finally got up the courage to ask her out. They are now married and have a little girl who is as cute as a button. At the end of the year, Mr. Aaronson asked me if I planned to pursue math in the future, and when I assured him that I did not, he gave me a passing grade. So, what was my problem, you might ask? Was I just one of those kids who didn't give a shit and was destined for mediocrity or failure in life? Like many things, the answer is more complicated than it might first appear, but I am getting ahead of myself. Our story starts on an unusually cold and blustery afternoon in late October, on the north-eastern shore of Lake Michigan about a half hour's drive north of Petoskey, just outside a village called Good Hart. Chapter 1. It had been a busy day. The perfect storm of an early season snap freeze, strong winds, and lake-effect snow meant that there was a couple of inches of snow on the still soggy ground, along with a number of leaky or burst pipes, malfunctioning valves, and boiler issues as people cranked their heating systems up to full for the first time that year. As a plumber, though, I didn't mind. It just meant more work for me, which was always a good thing. At only 25 years of age, and despite being a master plumber, I was generally the last choice for folks to call, even in an emergency. Anyone with money chose one of the larger and more established plumbing contractors, leaving me with the jobs that they didn't feel were worth their time or effort. That's how I found myself pulling into the laneway of an older house, just off Lamkin Road down by the lake, late that Friday afternoon. It was my last job of the day, but I would be working over the weekend to catch up on my backlog, so I wanted to get it done. The house looked like it hadn't been updated since it was built, likely in the late fifties or early sixties, other than a couple of coats of paint and a new roof when the original finally gave up the ghost. The front gardens were neatly tended, however, and the property itself was stunning, with panoramic views in three directions out over the lake. The sun was just beginning to dip toward the western horizon as I drove up, so the trees cast long shadows across the laneway. The house was owned by Mrs. Wilma C. Anderson, who had called me earlier in the day to say that some of her radiators weren't working and that her boiler was making one hell of a racket when she turned it on. I told her to shut the system down and that I would look at it by the end of the day. She sounded quite elderly, and I didn't like the idea of her going without heat for a night during a cold snap. I rang the doorbell and waited until a tiny wisp of a woman answered. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall and looked older than the hills, but her face was full of life, and her eyes had a twinkle that spoke of humor and mischief. "Hi, Mrs. Anderson, I'm Davis Crawford. You called earlier about some issues with your boiler and heating system. How can I help?" Mrs. Anderson gave me an appraising look. "I wasn't expecting you to be such a handsome young man. If I were fifty years younger, I would tell you exactly how you could help me, and then I'd teach you a trick or two I learned over the years. But I am too old for that kind of foolishness these days, so I will just have to make use of your plumbing expertise instead. And please, call me Wilma." I couldn't help but laugh and blush at Wilma's surprisingly raunchy sense of humor. I liked her immediately. "Let's try that again. What seems to be the problem?" "Well, the biggest problem is that I am 91 years old and dying of cancer. The doctors give me less than a year to live. But aside from that, I really can't complain. I have had a good run of it." I cocked my head to one side and gave her a bemused look. "Oh, you were wondering what the problem is with my heating system. Well, I turned it on this morning when I got up, and the boiler sounded like there was someone trapped inside of it trying to hammer their way out. There was a worrisome hissing from some of the radiators, as well, and they weren't heating up worth a damn. "My husband, Phillip, used to take care of those things for us, but he has been gone for almost five years now, so I hate to think what you will find when you look around." "I'm sure I can help you, Mrs. Anderson,;" "Wilma, please." "Sorry, Wilma. Why don't you show me to the basement, and I will try to figure out what's wrong. Then I can get started on fixing it." On the way to the basement stairs, Wilma led me through her crowded but orderly living room. I couldn't help but notice the paintings on just about every surface of its walls. "You have a real eye for art, Wilma. Those paintings are beautiful." Wilma smiled wistfully at me and got a faraway look in her eyes as she replied. "Phillip and I were artists. I guess I still am, but I haven't felt much like painting since he passed on. Phillip painted portraits. He made a surprisingly good living at it; you would be amazed at what rich people will pay to see their lives immortalized in oil on canvas. I never had the knack. Phillip could make even the most corpulent and corrupt industrialist appear regal and wise. I could only ever capture what I actually saw in them, and I quickly discovered that they did not enjoy, or pay for, that kind of introspection. "So, I painted landscapes, and there is always a market for those. But I kept some of my favorite pieces, over the years, as you can see." As Wilma spoke, I took a closer look at the paintings. One, in particular, was striking; a portrait of a beautiful young woman, in her late teens or early twenties, with a stethoscope around her neck and her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was wearing a loose hoodie and was curled up in an Adirondack chair, reading a book. It was not what you would expect from a formal portrait, but it seemed to capture her essence in a way that no photograph could match. I must have stopped moving as I was drawn into the image, so Wilma gave me a minute before she continued. "That's the last painting that Phillip worked on before he passed. He didn't get the chance to finish it, but I still think it's his finest work." I couldn't help but agree. "Who's the model? She's beautiful." "That's my granddaughter, Erin. You can't tell from the portrait, but she's a real firecracker. As a grandparent, you're not supposed to play favorites, but she was very special to Phillip, and it hit her hard when he passed. There is more love in that one painting than in all the other portraits that he painted over his lifetime. Except for his first, of course, of me." "Where are Phillips' other works? Surely, they weren't all commissions that are now locked away in some dusty millionaire's palace." Wilma's expression turned bleak as she contemplated her response. "All of his other paintings were sold after he died. The kids said they would fetch a better price while there was an upswing of interest in his work after his death, so they insisted that they all go to auction as quickly as possible. They were probably right, I guess, although I loved his art more than I needed the money. But how do you argue with your kids when they have just lost their father?" "Do any of your children live nearby?" "They all moved far away. Phillip and I chose a wonderful spot to live and make our art, but a challenging place to raise a family. It's not so bad now, what with the internet, highways, and the like, but when we first moved here sixty-some years ago, it was very isolated. We were young and selfish, and our selfishness cost us dearly. "We thought that our children would grow to love this area over time, like we did. But they never did, and they left as soon as they could get away. My daughter, Samantha, is a retired lawyer and she and her third husband split their time between their loft in Manhattan and their beach house in the Bahamas. My son, Robert, is an oil executive down in Texas. Neither of them has been here in more than a decade, except for Phillip's funeral. "My baby, Max, passed away more than twenty years ago now of cancer. Erin is his granddaughter. She is a pediatrician, and she splits her time between the hospital in Petoskey and the children's hospital down in Grand Rapids. She comes to see me when she can, but she is very busy. My other relatives all live busy lives far away from here. We chose to live here, though, so I can't be too upset that the rest of the family chose to live far away. "But enough about me. What about you, Mr. Crawford? Do you have any children?" "It's just me and my siblings, I'm afraid, and it's been that way for quite some time. My oldest sister, Alison, is 20, and she goes to college at North Central Michigan, in Petoskey. She is planning to become a nurse practitioner. The rest of the gang still lives at home with me. Sharon is 17 now, so she kind of runs the show while I am working; Mary is 15 but going on 30, if you know what I mean; and Lane is the baby of the family at 12." "Where are your parents?" "I don't honestly know. We each have a different father, or at least we think we do. Sharon, Lane, and I have no idea who our fathers are, so there's a chance that we might be full siblings, but I doubt it. My mother never kept the same man around for long. Alison's father has been in and out of jail since before she was born and is currently serving a stint in federal prison. But Mary has it the worst of all of us. "My mother met Mary's dad on a weekend bender in Vegas, and he is a pretty big deal. Rich, famous, the kind of guy you see on TV and the cover of magazines. A real family man, except when it comes to Mary, whom he refuses to even acknowledge. He bought my mom's silence with a lump sum payment and a non-disclosure agreement. That money was supposed to be put in a trust for Mary, but my mom snorted and injected it all in less than a year. Mary has written to her father dozens of times and reached out to him on social media countless more, but he wants nothing to do with his bastard daughter. "As for my mom, she went away for the weekend almost seven years ago now and left me in charge. And I am still in charge, I guess. So, no time for dating or romance for me, and I think that I will be just about done with raising kids by the time that Lane goes off to college." Wilma gave me a look filled with more empathy than I had felt in a long time, maybe ever. "Anyway, I should take a look at your boiler and see what I can do about getting you some heat." I would have called the boiler in Wilma's basement old, but that wouldn't have done it justice. Frankly, it wouldn't have seemed out of place in a museum of heating and plumbing, and it was hanging on to life by the barest of threads. With only a year to live, however, I wasn't going to recommend to Wilma that she replace the whole system with something more modern and efficient. "I think I can fix your boiler so that it will hold on for another year or two, and I can patch a couple of leaks in the lines to the main radiators as well. One line to a radiator at the back of the house is completely shot, so I will shut that one off and be back to replace it later this week." "What's all that going to cost?" "It's free of charge, Ma'am. You've got enough to look after with your health and all, without having to worry about your heating system. I never had a grandma to spoil, at least not one that I know of, so it would be my pleasure to do this for you." "Please, it's Wilma. And it's a grandmother's prerogative to spoil her grandchildren, and not the other way around. But your kindness is mighty appreciated, Davis." It took me a couple of hours to shore up the boiler and repair the lines that were still in reasonable condition before I was finished for the day. As I got ready to leave, I found Wilma sitting alone in the living room reading an old paperback. "I'll call you later this week, once the replacement line for your radiator comes in." Wilma got a mischievous smile on her face. "Why, Davis, are you getting fresh with me?" "If I were older and more experienced, I would in an instant. But I hardly think I can compete with the memory of your Phillip." "Too true, too true. Alright young man, well thank you for taking the time to look after a foolish old woman on a cold October night." "I hardly think you're foolish, Wilma, but it's been my pleasure." I didn't get home from Wilma's until well after nine that night, and by the time I pulled into our gravel driveway, I was beat. The dilapidated old yard light mounted on the roof of the garage shone weakly down on the sloppy mix of gravel and mud that was our yard, and I could hear the excited barks of Munchkin, our rescue puppy. He was a mix of German Shepherd and Cane Corso, with some variety of northern dog thrown in, and he was mighty pleased to see me. I'm glad that someone was. I came into our small three-bedroom rental to find Sharon and Lane sitting at the dining room table working on his math homework. I wish that they reacted like Munchkin when they saw me, but Lane just grunted a hello, while Sharon looked up at me with a mixture of sadness and worry. "Mary is out with the McDougal brothers again. They showed up here a half hour ago, I told her not to go with them, but she wouldn't listen." "The McDougal brothers are assholes," was Lane's addition to the conversation, without even looking up from the table. He wasn't wrong. The oldest McDougall brother, Calum, was a couple of years ahead of me at school and was a bully and a braggart. Two of his three brothers had followed in his esteemed footsteps, while the jury was still out on the youngest, James. "I'm going to go get her. Next time that those boys turn up in our yard, let Munchkin lose on them." "Alright, dinner will be in the oven when you get back. Given 'em hell, Bro." The McDougal brothers lived just outside Pellston in the closest thing to a mansion that you could find in our neck of the woods. Their family owned the largest construction and maintenance company in the area and had most of the Public Works contracts sown up, along with a not inconsiderable portion of the private construction in our region as well. Their parents spent most of their time in Sarasota, Florida, though, and the brothers had free rein while they were gone. As I drove up their long, paved driveway, automatic floodlights came on, illuminating the ostentatious columns that flanked the entrance to their house. I parked in front of the nearest bay of their four-car attached garage while noting that there was another three-car garage further off to the right. I idly wondered who got to park in which garage. Rich people problems, I guess. I walked to the front door and let myself in. From the foyer, I could hear the loud thump of music coming from the back of the house, so I headed that way. As I passed through the kitchen, I nearly bumped into James, who was holding a couple of empty serving bowls. He stopped dead when he saw me, looking nervous, clearly not expecting anyone else to be in their house. Certainly not me, anyway. "Hey James, I am here to get my sister. Where is she?" He hesitated a moment before pointing toward the back of the house. "She's in the game room playing pool with the guys. We didn't force her to come here or anything, if that's what you're worried about." "Maybe that's true, James. But you know she is still a minor, and I am her guardian, so I'm going to fetch her and bring her home." James didn't like the sound of that, but I turned my back on him and followed the music to a large, sunken room at the back of the house, which had an expensive-looking pool table in the middle. The remaining McDougal brothers were either playing pool or smoking up on one of the couches that were scattered around the outside of the room. Calum was presiding over the festivities, while the Pistons game was playing on a wall-mounted TV that was bigger than some movie screens. Despite his family's blue-collar roots, Calum looked like an overgrown frat boy, with his preppy clothes and fifty-dollar haircut. Mary was sitting in the middle of one of the couches, with a McDougal brother on one side and one of their hangers-on on the other. She looked somewhere between uncomfortable and scared, but she gave me a defiant scowl. The music stopped, and everyone looked to Calum and then back at me. There was a nervous tension in the air. "Hi Calum, I'm here for my sister." Calum was now in a bit of a spot; he couldn't just let me come into his home and give him orders without losing face with his brothers and their cronies. But he also knew, or at least suspected, that my sister was underage. And then there was always the Pipe Wrench Incident. That always made people nervous to be around me. "That's not my problem. She told my brother that she wanted to party, so she's here to party. No one forced her to come, and she seems to be having a good time." I wondered if all of Calum's dates looked as scared and uncomfortable as Mary did at that moment when they were having a 'good time'. "Well, since she is still a minor and I'm her guardian, it's a bit of a problem. Or it could be. But I don't want to put a damper on your evening, so I'll just bring Mary home with me and we'll call it a night." Calum looked toward James who had just come back into the room with bowls now filled with potato chips. "Is that true, Limp dick? Did you bring an underage girl home to party with us?" James began to sputter before Calum shook his head in disgust. He pointed over at Mary. "Get the fuck out of here, and don't come back until you're sixteen," he said before turning back to me. "And you. Just get the fuck out of our house." It was a silent drive home. Mary refused to even look at me, staring out the window instead. When we pulled into our yard, Munchkin came running up to greet us, and Mary finally spoke. "You didn't need to embarrass me like that. I'm old enough to make my own choices, you know." "The law says you're still a minor. And you'll always be my sister. Those guys are no good, Mary. You know that." "James is different. He isn't like the rest of them." "Maybe that's true, or maybe not. But you don't hang out in a nest of rattlesnakes, just because there is a garter snake in there with them that you think is cute." After a pause and some continued barking from Munchkin, Mary finally looked over at me. "You're not my dad, you know. You can't tell me what to do." And there it was. It always came down to the same thing with Mary; her father's rejection of her. Over the years, it had undermined her self-esteem and destroyed her self-worth to the point where I wondered if they would ever recover. Unfortunately, I was just smart enough to see the problem, but I had no idea how to fix it. A brother's love can only go so far, I guess. "I know, Mary. I know. But I love you, and I am so proud of you, and I just wish that was enough." We sat in silence for another minute before she replied. "I wish it was too." Chapter 2. It took a couple of days for Mrs. Anderson's new radiator line to arrive, and I gave her a call when I went to pick it up. "Hi, Mrs. And; Wilma. I was just picking up the replacement line for your radiator, and I was wondering if you needed anything else from town, while I'm here. I was going to come by and install the line later this afternoon if that works for you." "That's very kind of you, Davis. Would you mind picking up a few groceries for me? I can send the store a list, so they will be ready for you when you get there." A couple of my calls that day took longer than expected, so it was late in the afternoon again by the time I made it to Wilma's place. The early season snow had mostly melted away, and her yard was now a combination of gravel and thick soupy mud that could swallow a tire as easily as it could swallow a boot. "Thank you for picking the groceries up for me, you're too kind." "It was no trouble at all, especially since I was coming out this way anyway. If you don't mind me asking, how do you usually get them?" "I used to have a young man up the way who would help me with groceries and yard work, and other small things, but now I am pretty much on my own." "What happened to him? Did he move away?" "No, he still lives in the same place that he always has, but I am pretty sure that my family paid him more not to help me than I was paying for his assistance." "What? That seems like a crappy thing for them to do to you." Wilma gave a resigned sigh and then offered me a coffee while she told me her story. "I think I told you the last time you were here, that most of my family has moved on from this place, except my granddaughter Erin. The rest of them already have an agreement in place with a developer, the McDougals, to turn this property into a high-end resort for the Fudgies, so they have someplace to spend their money after visiting Mackinac Island." "Fudgies," was what the locals called the tourists from down south who descended on the upper peninsula in the summer. "If you don't mind me asking, just how much land do you own?" "Well, Phillip and I didn't have much to spend our money on over the years, so we bought up many of the nearby properties when they went up for sale. We ended up with at least a quarter mile of land that fronts onto the lake, without even really trying." I let out a low whistle. "That must be worth a small fortune. I can understand your family's interest." "At first, they didn't care if I stayed in the house after Phillip died. They figured that I would follow soon enough. After a few years, however, they started to get impatient, and it's fair to say that they are now actively encouraging me to leave, by foot, by car, or in a box. They have generously offered to put me out to pasture in a warehouse for the old and infirm, though, to await my impending doom. "With my cancer, their wish is finally going to come true. By this time next year, I will be sipping coffee with Phillip in whatever afterlife we atheists get to enjoy. Actually, who am I kidding? If there is an afterlife for Phillip and me, the first thing I'm going to do when I get there is get on my knees, undo his belt buckle, and then show him just how much I've missed him these past five years. Wilma looked a bit startled as if she had just remembered that I was still there. "I'm sorry, Davis. You probably didn't need to hear that last part. I just miss him so much. I still see him in the trees and along the shore, and I sometimes hear his voice in the wind off the lake." "It's all good, Wilma. I just hope that my brother and sisters get to experience the kind of love that you and Phillip had someday." "What about you, Davis? Don't you deserve to experience that kind of love as well?" "Maybe I deserve it, Wilma, but I don't think I am going to find it. It's been tough; real tough, looking after my family all these years. I have done things that I am not proud of, but that needed to be done. I don't regret them; I would do anything to protect the people I love. But I doubt that anyone would be able to love me, once they found out what I've done." "I think you are selling yourself short, Davis. We are all artists, and we are all worthy of love." With that, Wilma offered to top up my coffee before I started replacing the broken line. As the evening's shadows deepened, I saw her watching me with compassion and concern in her eyes. Once I was finished, I felt her hand on my shoulder, and she gave it an empathetic squeeze. "A penny for your thoughts?" I stopped what I was doing and turned to look at her. "It's my sister, Mary. I am losing her. She is so hurt and angry that she is beginning to make bad choices, and I don't know how to help her. I've tried to be her brother, parent, and friend, but I'm failing at all three." Wilma offered no judgment, good or bad. She just listened, and when I finished, she spoke. "Bring her over this Sunday around noon. Tell her to wear some old clothes that she doesn't mind getting dirty. You can come too if you would like and bring your little brother to do some fishing, but Mary will be spending her time with me." It wasn't easy convincing Mary to come to Wilma's. If you have spent time dealing with teenage girls, you know that they can be as stubborn as late-season ice on the lake. In the end, I resorted to threats and bribery to get her onboard, but she assured me that she would hate every minute she was there. Lane came with us as well, with the promise that we could spend the afternoon fishing off the end of Wilma's dock. By the time we arrived, Mary was sullenly glued to the passenger seat and wouldn't look up from her phone. Wilma waited a few minutes for Mary, but she stubbornly refused to leave the truck. Eventually, Wilma pulled on her rubber boots and walked over to the truck. She looked up at Mary and started speaking. "There are three things that I know are true. "The first, I've already shared with your brother. We are all artists because we are all worthy of love. But many of us lose our way. We are hurt and abandoned, and we are buried in shame. I was like that for many years. But my husband, Phillip, found me and taught me what it is to be loved. Not just the physical act; although he taught me about that as well; but the certainty that I was seen, known, and cherished. He showed me that I am an artist. You are an artist too. "Second, I am old, I have cancer, and I will die. Not today, and hopefully not tomorrow, but soon. And that is okay; we all die. I have lived a good life. And when I do, I hope that Phillip will be waiting for me with a glass of chilled white wine and his beautiful smile. My art may linger for a while once I am gone but, eventually, it too will be lost. "Third, the world is full of bastards. Your brother tells me that you and he are both bastards. I will tell you a secret that I have shared with very few people; I am a bastard too. "My mother was beautiful but poor. Her parents lost everything during the Great Depression, and she worked as a housemaid for a rich and powerful man to support her family. When she fell pregnant, he put her out on the street and refused to recognize her child, his daughter; me. Because of his rejection, I spent too many years steeped in shame and self-loathing. But eventually, I learned a hard truth; my father was a bastard by choice, while I was a bastard by birth. And those of us who are bastards by birth must never let the bastards by choice win. "Come inside when you're ready. I'm too old and it's too cold for me to stand here waiting for you." With that, Wilma turned and slowly made her way back to the house. Surprisingly, after a minute, Mary followed. When they reached the door, Wilma turned to look back at me. "It's time for you boys to go fishing. There is a warm breeze off the lake that will bring you good luck." Lane and I made our way down the hill to the dock in silence, our fishing rods, ice chest, and tackle box in hand. Unlike a seasonal dock that would be taken out of the lake each fall, Wilma's dock could be used year-round and was built with heavy timbers and steel bracing, so it could withstand the crushing force of the winter's ice. When we reached the dock, we felt the warm wind that Wilma had promised, and we chose our lures and began to cast. After a half hour of fishing, Lane broke the silence. "Do you think it's my fault?" "Do I think what's your fault, Bud?" "That mom left us. That she never came back. Do you think it's my fault?" I sighed as I thought about my answer. "No. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault, really, maybe not even hers. It's funny though, she brought some amazing people into this world. I wish she could have seen how incredible you and your sisters have turned out. But she made her choice, and that's on her, not you." Lane thought about my answer before he continued. "But you would be better off without me. Sharon would have more time to study for the scholarship she will need to get away from here. I try to be nice to Mary, to make her feel better, but I just seem to make things worse for her as well. And I see how hard you work to keep our family together. I feel like you would all be better off without me. If I weren't here, maybe Mom would come back home." I took a deep breath and tried to push down the anger that threatened to overwhelm me; anger at my mother for abandoning us, anger at myself for never being enough, and anger at a world that would leave my brother feeling like it would be better off if he didn't exist. I felt the wind off the lake as it blew across my face, drying my unshed tears before they were formed. As I was wondering how to unbreak my brother's heart, a particularly strong gust of wind blew through and Lane's fishing rod bent into a deep arc, the tip dancing wildly as a fish fought against the line. "Dad! Help;" The drag clicked furiously as the fish pulled line, as Lane fought to keep his rod tip up. I quickly set my rod aside and braced him, my hands held loosely beside his as he fought to reel in his catch. We worked together for what seemed like an eternity before he finally fought his fish to the side of the dock. I grabbed the net and saw that he had hooked a steelhead trout that was easily two feet long and must have weighed at least eight pounds if not more. It was a wonder the drag held steady, and his line didn't break during the fight. As I scooped up his catch, the steelhead's silver sides shimmered like polished chrome in the fading light, and it was so big that it took up over half the ice chest I had brought along to store our catch. Lane was flushed with excitement at landing such an impressive fish, and I was so proud of him that my heart almost ached. "Nice work, Son." He just looked up at me for a moment before throwing his arms around me in a hug. In the time since our mother left, he had never called me by anything other than my name. I never tried to be his dad; I didn't think I was qualified, but I guess that all of us need someone in our lives who will love us without conditions or end. "Never think that you're a burden on me or the family. Maybe you need a bit more from us right now than you can give back, but that's alright. Because sixty years from now, when I am old and can't wipe my ass anymore, you are going to be paying me back in spades, alright?" With that, we went back to fishing in companionable silence. I pulled in a few smaller ones, but nothing to match Lane's steelhead. A few hours later, the wind had picked up and it was getting colder, so we packed up our equipment and made our way back toward the house. Halfway down the dock, however, a huge gust of wind swept through, and I heard a cry followed by a loud splash. Turning back, I saw that Lane's foot had slipped through a broken slat, and he had fallen off the dock. Without thinking, I dropped the ice box and rods and jumped into the water to help him. When I got him to shore, he couldn't put any weight on his ankle, and any efforts to do so were met with cries of pain. I quickly collected our discarded fishing gear and set it to one side, before helping him to slowly make his way back up the hill. The November chill quickly took hold of us as we walked, plastering our damp clothing to our skin, and we were shivering uncontrollably by the time we reached the house. I knocked but it took a minute for Wilma and Mary to come out from the studio at the back of the house. "I am sorry to cut things short, but Lane had an accident down at the dock and he sprained or maybe even broke his ankle. I am going to have to take him to the hospital in Petoskey to get it looked at before it swells up any further." Wilma looked at me with concern. "Maybe you should hold off at least for a little while. My granddaughter, Erin, the pediatrician, is coming for dinner tonight and should be here any minute. Why don't we let her take a look at it before you head into town? And let's get you out of those clothes; you must be freezing. I still have some of Phillip's things in the closet that might fit you." A few minutes later, I had changed into a pair of comfortable but slightly musty-smelling pants, with a warm sweater over a well-worn collared shirt. I was both taller and wider than Phillip had been, at least in the twilight of his years, so the pants were a bit short, while the sweater was tight across my shoulders. While I changed, Mary and Wilma had set Lane up on the couch with his ankle elevated on some pillows. I helped him change out of his wet clothing and into an old sweatshirt and shorts that fit over his swollen ankle. Once Lane was settled, Wilma and I talked quietly in the kitchen. "It's getting late, and you must be getting hungry, but I don't think I have enough to feed everyone." I thought for a moment. "We may be in luck. Lane caught the biggest steelhead I have ever seen earlier this afternoon, but I left it down by the dock after the accident. If you have a few potatoes and maybe a veg or two, I am sure I can whip something up that would feed us all." Wilma looked at me with a sly smile. "He cooks, he plumbs, and he cares for his family, all while cutting a dashing figure in my late husband's favorite sweater. You, Mr. Crawford, are a catch." "I am not sure about that, Wilma," I replied with a laugh, "But either way, this catch had better go and get our earlier catch, so I can get started on dinner." It took me almost half an hour to collect our fishing gear and bring it back up to the truck. By the time I was done, an older SUV was parked behind my truck, which meant that Erin had arrived. After I loaded the gear, I used the fishing knife and stained plastic cutting board that I kept in a bin under the back seat to clean and filet the steelhead before heading inside. From the doorway, I could see a head of sandy-blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail sticking up from the far side of the couch, and I heard a calm and melodic voice talking to Lane while Wilma and Mary looked on. I was so lost in that voice that I almost jumped when the latch on the door caught behind me. The head of sandy-blonde hair looked up at the sound, revealing a pair of amber, almost golden eyes. "You must be the father," said that same melodic voice, as those eyes bore their way into my soul. "It's Davis Crawford, and I'm the older brother." "Erin Anderson, nice to meet you. Can you get hold of your parents? We might need to take Lane to the hospital for some X-rays." "No," I replied more harshly than I intended. "No," I tried again, more gently but with an edge to my voice. "Our parents aren't around; I am as close as you're going to get. I am Lane's legal guardian if that helps." There was a slight pause as her amber eyes shifted from surprise to curiosity. "That helps a lot. Why don't you give me 15 minutes or so to take a look at this brave dude's ankle, then we can talk over some options, once I have a better sense of what's going on." "That okay with you, Bud?" I asked as I walked over to the couch. "Yeah, that should be fine," he replied, but his eyes were wide, and his cheeks were flushed. For a moment, I was worried that he might be running a fever, but then I got my first look at Erin, and I understood. Maybe she wasn't classically beautiful like a movie star or swimsuit model, but she was lean and fit, and from what I could see, had more than enough curves in all the right places. It was her face, however, that captured me. She had delicate features accentuated by her high cheekbones, and there was a softness to her expression that spoke of empathy and kindness. Her eyes, though intense, had a warmth that put me instantly at ease. I realized much too late that I had been staring at Erin for an uncomfortably long time while holding the bag of steelhead filets out like some kind of sacrificial offering. While I stood frozen, the look in Erin's beautiful eyes had shifted from curiosity to amusement; I would assume at the fish-carrying simpleton standing in front of her. "Thanks, Dr. Anderson; err, Erin. I appreciate your taking a look at him and; I am going to go cook us up some fish before I make an even bigger ass of myself." Wilma joined me in the kitchen, while Erin continued to assess Lane's injured ankle. We spent the next few minutes dicing the potatoes and veggies and tossing them with some olive oil, salt, and pepper before sprinkling the filets of steelhead with a mixture of herbs. I topped the fish with some slices of a less-than-fresh, but still edible, lemon I found in the fridge, before putting the whole thing in the oven. To be continued in part 2. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

Eden Prairie football coach Mike Grant joins to talk about the improved play we've all seen from Vikings QB JJ McCarthy over the last two games, Kevin O'Connell's relationship with Mike's father Bud, and where you can see he and Chad speaking together this evening!

Innovation doesn't fail because companies lack ideas—it fails because leadership and culture aren't built to support change. In this episode, Paul Alex sits down with Bud Caddell, founder of NOBL (nobl.io), to break down what actually stops organizations from executing on bold ideas. Bud shares real-world lessons from working with global brands and fast-growing companies, explaining how misaligned incentives, poor leadership behaviors, and broken decision-making systems quietly kill innovation. He also reveals what leaders must do differently to build cultures where change doesn't just start—but actually sticks. Whether you're an entrepreneur, a team leader, or building from the ground up, this conversation will reshape how you think about leadership, culture, and execution. Your Network is your NETWORTH! Make sure to add me on all SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS: Instagram: https://jo.my/paulalex2024 Facebook: https://jo.my/fbpaulalex2024 YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCNB9ivoJf7ppjuSplOAkEZw LinkedIn: https://jo.my/inpaulalex2024 Looking for a secondary source of income or want to become an entrepreneur? Check out one of my companies below to see if we can help you:

A jak vypadá dramatizace těchto děl francouzského spisovatele Emila Zoly? Napoví vám nové vydání kulturního týdeníku. A uslyšíte i reportáž z představení v Českých Budějovicích - Výstřely na Broadwayi i ze Studia DVA Harold a Maud. Připravila Michaela Vetešková.

Today's episode is presented and hosted by three felt chicken wings named Justim, Navis, and Groffin. If you're not into fuzzy food, they've also brought a variety of ways to yeet skeets, faux time-travel schemes, and Shakespeare's suspiciously-named children. Something for everyone!Suggested talking points: My Son Excelisinor, Internal ComFUNstion Engine, Pop In a Bud, Cursing Santa is the Chase OrnamentHarmony House: https://harmonyhousewv.com/

When Dale Earnhardt Jr. had his longtime friend and crew member Kevin “Two Beers” Pennell on the Download last time, their conversation was so engrossing that he had to come back for more. They pick up where they left off, in Dale Jr.'s rookie season in the famed Bud 8 car. They recall some choice encounters with Dale Sr., including a wreck at Bristol and their Cup debut at Martinsville, where Dale Jr. couldn't get out of the way quickly enough. Dale and Kevin relive their thrilling victory in the 2000 All-Star race, where some key decision-making by Tony Eury Jr. helped put them in contention. The 2001 Daytona 500 is also discussed, with both men sharing their respective experiences of the post-race events after Dale Sr.'s tragic accident. Dale and Kevin talk about some “ingenuity” and “innovation” that was taking place in the shop and on pit road to help close the gap on the more established Cup teams. They rehash the highs and lows of the 2001 season and their hot streak at Daytona and Talladega, which led up to the winning of the 2004 Daytona 500. Dale asks Kevin for his perspective on the team switch at Dale Earnhardt Inc., which stemmed from a falling out with Eury Jr. They also chat about Dale and Eury Jr. leaving for Hendrick Motorsports, and Kevin's decision to stay loyal to DEI. The interview goes on to cover the whirlwind years of DEI, which saw it get absorbed by Ginn Racing, the acquisition by Tony Stewart, and the inception of Stewart Haas Racing and its eventual closure at the end of the 2024 season. And for more content check out our YouTube page: https://www.youtube.com/@DirtyMoMediaReal fans wear Dirty Mo. Hit the link and join the crew.

Bud has launched into the Christmas season with a peppermint shake. Everybody showed up. That includes Millie Ricks and guess who? Early Bird gets the Perm also had a sale…Memaw didn't go alone. Use code TAVIN25 at checkout for 25% off your merch order: https://www.rockcityoutfitters.com/collections/tavin-dillardPersonal Video Greetins and Bacon: https://www.sweetteafilms.comVenmo: @Tavin-DillardText me: 501-322-6249Email: tavindillard@gmail.com

The Cover 3 crew breaks down the latest news around the college football world. The boys discuss the fallout of Lane Kiffin to LSU, Mark Stoops being fired by Kentucky and much more. (00:00:00) - Intro (00:01:30) - Lane Kiffin To LSU Fallout    (00:16:20) - Pete Goulding Named Ole Miss HC  (00:19:40) - Kentucky Fires Mark Stoops    (00:29:20) - Michigan State Fires Jonathan Smith   (00:36:30) - Coaching Carousel Updates (00:38:45) - Penn State's Coaching Search  (00:44:10) - Poll Assassin   (00:49:00) - Bud's CFP Projections   (00:58:00) - National Signing Day Storylines/Updates    (00:59:35) - UFR: Stanford Covers! (01:01:00) - UFR: Oklahoma Stats  (01:04:45) - UFR: Heisman Parlay  Cover 3 is available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify and wherever else you listen to podcasts.  Visit the betting arena on CBSSports.com for all the latest in sportsbook reviews and sportsbook promos for betting on college football. Watch Cover 3 on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/cover3 Follow our hosts on Twitter: @Chip_Patterson, @TomFornelli, @DannyKanell, @BudElliott3 For more college football coverage from CBS Sports, visit https://www.cbssports.com/college-football/ To hear more from the CBS Sports Podcast Network, visit https://www.cbssports.com/podcasts/ To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices