news-and-views

Can Social Media Help You Lose Weight?

Sat, 24 Jul 2010 18:11:35 +0100

In addition to the positive impact Social Media has had on business, Social Media can actually help keep you fit and healthy.

The Center for Disease Control and Prevention estimates that one-third of American adults are overweight and another one-third are obese. Think about that: two-thirds of the adults in America are unhealthy due to the fact that their weight exceeds a healthy limit. When an affliction reaches these types of numbers, it’s called an epidemic. We’re eating too much, sitting around a computer too much, and living overall sedentary lifestyles.

Taking the first step in changing lifestyles such as these is difficult when where to begin is unclear. Social Media offers not only a jumping off point but an entire universe of communities to join for maintenance of a healthy way to live. There are literally hundreds of places on Facebook alone that can serve as a starting point. My Twitter stream usually has at least four tweets every fifteen minutes devoted to health and fitness. Take a look at a small sampling of Social Media’s road to health:

Facebook has pages that are devoted to exchanging ideas, offering tips, demonstrating yoga and weight lifting techniques, and providing moral support. When the temptations of special events and holidays come around, there are forums and walls that give immediate comfort and encouragement; someone is always on Facebook which means you’re never alone. Plus, the benefit of Facebook is that many pages offer links to websites with even more information for diet and exercise.
Youtube is a great place to find and view amateur recorded and professionally produced videos of individuals sharing their entire transformation experience. They'll show you their before, during and after physique as they record and broadcast their diets and workout regimes.
iPhones, Blackberrys, and other smart phones have programs that can be downloaded to help you keep track of your caloric, fat, and carbohydrate intake throughout the day. You can also find applications (or simply look up) the nutritional value of various foods while you’re dining out if the place that is serving you does not have it available. Staying on track of your diet and reaching daily targets when eating out has never been easier.
The professional site LinkedIn, has groups that you can join devoted to exercise and working out. In these discussions, members will often include links to websites that have been helpful in their experiences. Some provide information such as the benefits of low or high impact aerobics, where to order equipment that has received the best reviews, how to heal various sports related injuries, motivational tips, and more.

Starting a program of health and fitness is easier to do with the support of family and friends. But for those times when immediate help isn’t available or when privacy about a weight program is more important than discussing it with family members is, there are plenty of Social Media communities that can make a huge difference in the success of stepping out of the statistic that two-thirds of Americans sit in.

Excerpt #4 from my novel, "My Brother's Keeper"

Wed, 23 Jun 2010 23:38:57 +0100

CHAPTER THREE

Adjusting to life in a foreign country was getting easier for all of them as they stayed busy with renovating the beach house they'd found in Luna Beach, Florida. They had moved from hotels, to a condo, then to makeshift quarters in the living room as they remodeled their brand new house. Massimo really liked the way his new bedroom turned out. The house was too new and modern to try and recreate his former bedroom in Italy. Instead, it was completely different, a fresh start.

He placed a new rug in front of the tub, exited the bathroom and looked around his very own space. It felt good to be moved in, at last. His suite had a sitting area with a fold out couch and loveseat, a TV, stereo and a top of the line video game system. An office area branched off around a corner, where there were built-in shelves and a desk with slide-out surfaces large enough to spread a map. Reference books, globes, a telescope, a projector; he had everything he would need to start a successful year at a new school.

The screensaver on his laptop ran a continuous banner, "Massimo Belice - Rock Star!" The drum set in the corner proved he wanted to be a musician but the screensaver was really to remind him of his new last name. Fortunata, Gino, and Massimo had taken on the last name, “Belice” during the time they would live in hiding; an uncomfortable adjustment but a necessary one.

Beside the drum set, were French doors that opened accordion style, swiveled, and laid flat against the wall to separate the sleeping and dressing room from the common sitting area. The designers mentioned something about beach houses and rental value, so there was even a kitchen. His mother said he was never allowed to cook until he learned how, but Gino had already come up and cooked with him a few times. It was fun, like the brothers were having a sleep over.

The newly dubbed Fortunata Belice tapped on the banister and ascended the stairs, "knock, knock. You ready for dinner? We're starving!" She stood and surveyed the completed project. "Ah Marco, er Tony…I mean, Massimo!" She laughed at herself, "Ah, my boys, you all look so much alike…so handsome." Her face looked sad for a moment and Massimo knew she missed his brothers as much as he did.

She smiled and looked around the room. "You've done a great job in here, it looks amazing!" She turned to go downstairs but stopped a moment and looked closely at her son. "Si, you all look so similar…and yet, there's something so different about each of you." She reached out and ran her thumb over the scar above his right eyebrow from the time Antonio had dropped Massimo as a toddler and he had to get stitches.

"It's so funny," she chuckled, "Gino has the same type of scar, in the same spot." Gino's scar was also brother related from when Marco hit him with the butt end of a toy gun. "Come down now, ok? And don't forget, to feed the cat."

Massimo went to the window where little Luce napped in the sun. He tickled the kitten's nose with her own tail. She woke up, attacked her tail, and fell off the cat perch that had been attached to the sill. Massimo returned her to the perch, looked out the window and saw a bright yellow and orange surfboard walking out to the water. It was somewhat far away and Massimo couldn't see the guy riding it, so he went over to his telescope and refocused it from the stars to the waves. A surfer was a real novelty in comparison to Luna Beach's dominant population of families with small children and senior citizens. The Crystal Heights neighborhood was gated and there was no nearby public beach access. This was a good sign to Massimo, somewhere in the neighborhood lived at least one surfer. Maybe he'd be someone cool for Massimo and Gino to hang out with.

"There he is!" The board and its rider caught a wave and ripped toward the shore.

He pulled away from the telescope and looked out the window to the beach.

"No way!" He squinched his eye back to the telescope and looked again.

"Where'd she go?" He saw her again as she paddled back out to catch another wave.

Gino's voice bellowed from downstairs, "Massimo! Dinner! Now!"

He grinned and picked up the kitten, "Luce…looky Luce, a surfer girl. Finally, signs of life in Luna Beach."

"This dune makes a perfect goal until we get you a soccer net, Maz."

Gino drew a line in the sand with his foot in front of the dunes that separated their house from the shoreline and ocean.

"This area is my box. We don't have posts to bounce off, so just practice your low target strikes for now. Ready?"

The brothers were deeply tanned from weeks of playing in the ocean with boogie boards, running along the beach nearly every morning, and swimming in their pool to rinse off the salty Atlantic. For weeks, Massimo looked for the surfer girl, but hadn't seen her again. She must have been a renter or she had been visiting a resident. He’d given up on meeting what he thought was probably a cool girl, but he hadn't stop scanning the beach on a regular basis, just in case.

After practicing soccer strikes and foot maneuvers for over an hour, Massimo grew bored. He kicked the ball so hard, it hit Gino's bare stomach with force and stung his slightly burnt skin. He laughed when he saw his older brother grimace.

"Good one, huh G.?"

"Yeah, that's a point."

Gino threw the ball hard back to Massimo, aiming for his head. He reached the target, and smacked Massimo in the ear; practice was over. The brothers began wrestling in the sand until Massimo squelched in pain.

After a dip in the ocean to rinse off, they sat on their towels looking out at the waves. Massimo felt a deep longing for his own waves back home. Gino obviously felt the same way.

"Not quite the Mediterranean Sea, is it?"

Massimo shook his head no. "Have you talked to Papa lately?"

When Gino said he hadn't, Massimo asked if he'd spoken to his fiancée, Maria. He saw Gino swallow hard at the name of his love.

"Not since that trip we took over to Orlando last month. I bought a prepaid cell phone and threw it away after I called her." Gino fiddled with some pieces of driftwood and twigs absentmindedly, but Massimo could see a pattern emerging.

"G, what are you making with those sticks? It looks like you're about to weave a basket or something."

Gino placed his craft in the sand, stood up and added a few more sticks. "See? It's kind of like an arrow but you wouldn't notice it if you didn't know to look for it."

Massimo got up and looked down at the sticks. He was right. When surrounded by other grass and sticks, what Gino had made wouldn't look like anything at all. But knowing it was there made it stand out. Massimo looked away from it and looked back, he could still see it.

"That is so cool! It's like one of those color blind eye tests or something when you can't help but see the number in the dots." Massimo shook his head amazed, "Gino! You've invented a camouflaged, secret signal! That is so awesome!"

Gino laughed at his little brother, "I'm glad I can amuse you so easily lil' bro."

Massimo's eyes brightened, "G, let's make this our own signal…it'll be something just between us that no one else will know about. We'll call it the "Belice Arrow."

Gino agreed but thought their secret sign should be the "Vetrano Brothers Sign," or VBS for short. "When we go home, we won't want to be the Belice brothers anymore."

Massimo wove his own VBS and the brothers took turns hiding the signals from one another. They timed each other to see who could find the other's VBS the quickest. Over and over again, the signal would blend in at first, then Massimo's peripheral vision would spot the arrow if he passed by it. They each began to kick and destroy one another's VBS when they found them. Next, they competed to see who could weave a new one the fastest. Finally, the game grew old but the notion of their secret was still fun.

A thought occurred to Massimo and he grew excited, "When we get home you could point it to where Antonio hides so I could win the game…" Gino looked disapprovingly at Massimo. "Aww, just once, G! I want to win just once!"

Gino laughed, "Ok Maz, our celebration on getting back to the family will be that you win the game…and if you need my help with the VBS in order to win, you've got it!"

Massimo hugged his brother, grateful at the notion of winning the game and excited about the thought of going home. Gino hugged him back and mentioned it was probably time for dinner. Massimo's appetite agreed.

He picked up his beach towel, held it high and let the wind shake out the sand. It snapped and flapped in front of his face, flickering the shoreline for miles ahead like a Nickelodeon movie player. Far down the beach, past the Crystal Heights neighborhood residents, a lone figure stood at the boardwalk of a condominium building looking out at the ocean, scanning the shoreline left and right. Ice snaked its way through Massimo's blood.

He tackled his brother, shoving Gino toward the dune that had served as their makeshift goal. He'd caught him so off guard that Gino went down easily.

"Massimo! What the f…"

Massimo put his hand over Gino’s mouth, but he hadn’t needed to; the look on Massimo's face shut him up. Massimo put a finger to his own lips, turned away from Gino, then inched over on his belly to peek over the top of the dune. He was right, it wasn’t an illusion.

Despite Massimo’s tan skin, his face was pale as he looked back to his brother and whispered,"Vincenzo."

Broaden Your Reach by Looking to the Periphery of Your Business

Tue, 25 May 2010 18:33:00 +0100

Utilizing Social Media for business has already proven to increase brand awareness, generate revenue, and drive traffic to a main website. We’ve known for a long time that the various aspects of Social Media are essential to operating business in today’s fast changing world of advanced technology. Since tools like Facebook, LinkedIn, and Twitter are going to be around for a long time to come, understanding how to operate them is an important practice for any company.

Keep in mind that Social Media outlets are more than just “advertising” or marketing tools. These can also be places where you educate and entertain your clients. A little creativity is all it takes. Let your website be more than a place for you to post comments and interact with others; make it the one stop resource tool where people go to explore and learn about topics related peripherally to your business. Not everything has to be focused on the very center of what you do; look around the edges and see what you find.

If you are in retail, pick any item or collection of items in your store and post interesting articles on how to use them in unique or better ways. An aisle of kitchen utensils can turn into its own category of cooking, recipes, and how to care for cutlery. Link videos of short cooking demonstrations or knife sharpening tips from your website, then post on Facebook and tweet a message out on Twitter that you’ve just placed a great idea for tonight’s dinner or a new “how-to” on your site. Be sure to include a shortened link that leads to the right page! Broken links or inaccurate links are frustrating to the user and do not reflect well on your business. (Hootsuite makes it very easy to shrink hyperlinks.)

A video rental store could take advantage of this same tactic not only to announce the latest releases but also to help fans find entertainment information. Post celebrity style tips, link to informative clips on how movies are made, post the lyrics to songs on a soundtrack and a link to the video, or simply pull articles from an entertainment magazine. Getting creative with the ways you bring attention to what lies on the periphery of your business broadens your reach beyond that which is the most obvious focus of your business.

I recently heard from an immigration legal firm, about how they’re using Social Media on their own website to benefit their clients not only by linking to the popular tools like Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter, but also by posting bi-monthly immigration law information, monthly educational videos, and e-newsletters. Imagine how much simpler it must be to research information on how to bring a family member into the country, start a new business, or file taxes. With one, single portal like this, bookmarking a number of different sites becomes unnecessary and the exposure of a brand or business name is multiplied.

Just make sure you don’t over clutter, or create too much “noise.” In other words, don’t post and send out anything and everything you find that is related to your business. Be thoughtful and consider what you’re attaching to your website. Even though a video might not be produced by your company or be an exact match of your service; your audience perceives that whatever you put on your site is indirectly endorsed by you. Screen carefully for offensive material or anything that may be considered exploitative. As always, give credit where it is due. You cannot claim an article, photograph, video, or other work as your own without crediting its original source or creator.

Open the Social Media window wide and see how fresh you can make your content. Not only are the tools of Social Media available as an opportunity to increase brand awareness, generate revenue, and drive traffic to your site; they can also help you broaden the reach of your current customer base by bringing the periphery of your business into the spotlight simply by educating and entertaining your audience.

Wendy D. Wells is President of WD Wells Writing and Editing, LLC

She is a Charlotte, NC based, Telecommuting Copywriter, Professional Blogger and Editor.

wwells@wendywellswrites.com

Follow me on Twitter! @WendyWells

Excerpt #3 from my novel: "My Brother's Keeper"

Tue, 18 May 2010 19:29:57 +0100

Massimo hid in the attic for over a month while everyone except the immediate family believed he was dead. He lived there during his wake and his funeral, then for a couple of weeks of mourning while his mother prepared for their trip to America. When Uncle Salvatore's body was found; the trip was delayed. The family had another wake and funeral that Massimo had to watch from the attic. He mourned the old man and wished they could walk among the vines together.

Massimo tried to make the best of his time in the attic, as it was an interesting place to be; filled with the history of the Vetrano family. Shuttered windows gave him a sheltered view, and he tried to memorize every detail of his beloved homeland. He could see the orange groves, the vineyard, much of the hillside, and all the way out to sea. The courtyard where the family constantly gathered for meals was where he longed to be most of all. He watched his brothers, who looked so much alike from a distance it was often hard to tell one from another. Even with six years separating Antonio and Gino, their dark hair and similar builds from far away looked the same. However, they all stood out from the many transplanted, blonde haired, blue eyed Northern relatives. Grandpa Don Vetrano, Fortunata, Guiseppe, and the brothers were of the Southern Italian heritage with jet black hair, dark eyes and skin. Age had made Don Vetrano the exception and lightened his eyes to green. His nearly bald head had only gray wisps of hair, but wizened photos proved how dark he once had been.

Each night as the vineyard grew dark, Massimo watched the sun hiss into the Mediterranean Sea. He would miss his ocean when he left for America. He wanted to go to the seaside before leaving Sicily but knew it was impossible. Massimo saw his brothers and cousins going to and from Mass as they prayed for the souls of their brother and Uncle Salvatore. So, for lack of anything better to do, he began to play spy and take notes in his journal of what people did. With everyone still in mourning, there was nothing exciting happening but not having contact with anyone other than his brothers, parents and Grandpa was getting boring. He missed his friends and cousins. He felt terrible knowing that everyone thought he was dead and that it was causing them pain. His Auntie Margherita was the worst to see in distress. His mother's youngest sister was Massimo's Godmother and she had always watched over him like a big sister. When Massimo saw her from afar, he ached to comfort her. The effect of his death had caused her so much pain, she'd lost weight, grown pale, and Massimo could tell she had stopped brushing her beautiful blonde hair. He begged his mother to tell Margherita the truth but the plan was never altered. So, Massimo waited, quietly in the dark, and watched his family hurt.

CHAPTER TWO

All was dark except for the glow from a pair of yellow eyes with vertical slits that moved back and forth with each strike at Massimo's body. Right before it would strike, he could see the head, mouth, and the long, curved fangs with a flicking red tongue. Each time its triangular head pulled back, the eye's glow illuminated the dead and bloody body of his Uncle Salvatore. The snake struck again, recoiled. Now it was Massimo’s own dead body illuminated by the eyes' glow. His mother screamed.

Massimo jerked awake and knocked over a cup of soda on the small tray table extended over his lap. His new journal fell victim to brown bubbling liquid. He stood and picked up the book to rescue the other pages and his pants from more cola catastrophe. A pretty, blonde American flight attendant, who served only First Class passengers, suddenly arrived with dry towels for damage control.

She smiled, dabbed the tray, dried off his journal and the seat, then whispered, "No harm, no foul."

While his English was becoming somewhat passable, he was confused by her comment. He understood the word "foul" was a reference to either sports or to poultry. Since the word before it sounded like "ham," he assumed she was talking about food, "no ham, no fowl." He concluded she was telling him they had no pork and no chicken for their dinner on the flight from Italy to America.

He smiled back, and whispered, "Grazie."

He looked at Gino sleeping across the aisle. Their mother slept in the seat beside his. They needed their rest, he would tell them about the lack of dinner choices when they woke up. Massimo thought about how hard this was on his brother. Gino had to say goodbye to his fiancée, Maria, and Massimo could see the pain in his brother's face. They should have been married by now. The wedding had been set for shortly after Massimo's birthday but his death had put their plans on hold. Massimo wondered how angry Maria would be when she learned the truth and knew that Gino had kept it a secret.

Massimo looked at his precious Mama. Beautiful olive skin gone pale with heartache, more gray strands had invaded her raven hair within a few weeks than Massimo had seen in his lifetime. Even closed, Fortunata's eyes looked swollen and red from the grief of leaving her family. The black dress she wore, specifically designed for her, gathered loose around her hips and waist. An ever-present rosary was woven in her sleeping fingers. Both hands propped her chin up against the window, her head tilted backward. Her neck would be stiff when she woke up; it was a terrible position to sleep in for so long. Massimo made a mental note to give her a good neck rub when they arrived at the Orlando hotel that night, or would it be morning? He'd forgotten the time difference and what time of day they would be landing. It didn't matter. He was dead, his uncle was dead, his Grandfather and Papa had sent him with his mother and brother into hiding. The only time that mattered was when they would all be rejoined as a family again.

Massimo decided to stretch his legs and looked out the window near the galley for a little while. The entire trip to this point had been exhausting and depressing beginning with the moment they left the Vetrano Villa. After giving the family's driver the day off, Marco had to drive the limo all the way to Syracuse in order to make sure no one would see Massimo leaving their home. From there, they were escorted by associates that Grandpa Vetrano trusted without reproach in new vehicles all the way to Rome, where they boarded their flights. The trio had been on the road for almost an entire day and the flight would take another thirteen hours. Leaving home under such circumstances after so much time alone in the attic had Massimo feeling as if he were in a state of shock and out of touch, much like the way he felt after he witnessed Uncle Salvatore’s murder.

He tried to shake off the icy feeling slithering through his blood. He remembered there was a lounge for First Class passengers up a spiral stair case toward the front of the plane. Climbing the steps felt good to his stiff legs but once he'd reached the second level, he only saw older men drinking and playing cards. He felt awkward and returned to the seat beside his mother. He wondered when dinner would be served and was glad they didn't have pork or fowl, either fish or beef must be the choices, and he was going for the beef.

He smelled food and realized he must have dozed off again when he awoke to his mother pulling out the tray table from the seat's arm rest. The flight attendant placed each of their meals in front of them. Massimo told this mother he'd wanted beef. She said it hadn't been an option, so she got him the next best thing. The plate in front of him had two small pork chops smothered in brown gravy and mashed potatoes drown in brown gravy. In a dish beside the plate, wilted asparagus floated in a runny hollandaise sauce. He looked over at his mother's tray. She had what looked to be an attempt at chicken parmesan. It was buttery noodles with a chicken breast, flakes of mozzarella cheese and watery red sauce, ketchup perhaps?

Gino had the same meal as Massimo. His expression was comical as he looked at the pork chops in front of him, then whispered across the aisle in Italian, "Mama, please say you packed a lunch!"

Massimo nodded toward the flight attendant and in Italian told them, "She said there was no pork and no chicken! I was hoping for beef!"

He went on to tell them about the exchange that had taken place with the blonde flight attendant while they were asleep. "She said," he whispered the phrase in English, "no harm, no foul."

Fortunata found this hilarious. But she'd done nothing but cry for so long, her nose was swollen and clogged. When she laughed, she snorted so loudly the sound startled the three of them, which made them all laugh. After she quickly explained in Italian what the flight attendant really meant, Gino almost spit out his food laughing, which set them all cracking up again. The flight attendant gave them a disapproving look but too many weeks had passed since the last time they'd all felt the joy of smiles and laughter; they weren't about to let the moment go so easily. When they saw other passengers look in their direction, they all shushed each other. Fortunata snorted again, so they laughed even more. They laughed until they cried and their stomachs hurt. Tears and pain through laughter felt good and it made a bad meal go down a little easier.

Excerpt #2 from my novel, "My Brother's Keeper"

Mon, 10 May 2010 23:40:41 +0100

(continued from previous post)

Massimo knew his mother would be crazy with worry about him. It had been dark for hours. He was too afraid to come out from the hillside cave where he had run to hide. Massimo didn't know if Vincenzo, or his man Paolo, would come back and kill him for what he'd witnessed. Massimo was terrified, and he was sick with grief over seeing the horrific murder of Salvatore. Who should he tell? He checked his cell phone again, still no signal. It was probably for the best, just in case Vincenzo was able to listen in somehow. A man who is capable of murder might be connected to…to what? Probably Mafioso or a gang, Massimo thought. He had heard of crooked police, who were paid to frame innocent witnesses of crimes. Then, crooked judges would send the innocent witnesses to prison, where they would be killed by a murderer already sentenced to life. The gangs and Mafioso families, like the notorious Traficante family, had these types of people in their pockets. Vincenzo was probably like that. Untouchable.

Massimo sobbed, he couldn't believe Uncle Salvatore was dead. Salvatore had been in charge of planting and harvesting operations at the Vetrano family vineyard since before Massimo’s father, Guiseppe, was born. He'd been like a dear uncle to Massimo's Papa and his siblings. When Grandpa Arcada, Fortunata Vetrano's father, had died, Uncle Salvatore grew close to Marco and Gino. Massimo and Antonio had not yet been born, so they never knew their Mother's father. Now, Uncle Salvatore was more of a Grandfather to Massimo and his brothers.

Salvatore and Grandpa Vetrano tried to pass their grape harvesting wisdom on to each of the boys, as they had to Guiseppe. However, the three wine-wise men could clearly see that Massimo was the only one of the four, who was born with the wine-for-blood passion of the vines.

As Massimo paced the dirt floor of the cave, he kept trying to replay in his mind what he'd heard Vincenzo say to Uncle Salvatore. They talked about where something was hidden, and Vincenzo said the others were expecting "it" sooner. So, Uncle Salvatore had something that Vincenzo wanted?

The only thing Massimo could think of that anyone would want from Uncle Salvatore, would be the recipe for his mixture of fertilizer, lime, and other ingredients he used in the soil on their land. The Vetrano grapes grew incredibly robust and with so unique a flavor that Salvatore had been offered money for the secret. The old man kept it close to the vest. He was constantly testing the soil all over the property to see what the ph balances and moisture levels were and other were other things Massimo did not yet understand. Uncle Salvatore was still teaching him about the soil. Now, the lessons were over. How was the Vetrano family's wine going to continue without the old man's soil and fertilizer recipe? Surely, Papa or Grandpa Vetrano must know the secret. Massimo intended to manage the earth himself someday, like Uncle Salvatore. He would not only run the business of the vineyard, like Papa, but he would also put his sweat and blood into the very grapes that made the Vetrano wine. His only dream in life was to take over the vineyard and continue the family's, centuries-old tradition of making wine.

Snake eyes slithered toward him, glowing red, leaving a trail of blood behind. As they came closer, the left eye began to pucker and the face of Vincenzo grew around the eyes. When his long fangs were about to sink into Massimo's flesh, Massimo jerked awake. He'd fallen asleep on the damp floor of the cave. He was grateful to be out of the terrible dream he was having. But now, he was worried about the sound he heard that woke him up. Something made a scratching noise outside the cave's entrance. An owl or a mouse, maybe? He pulled his cell phone out to see the time. Nearly midnight!

He stood up, panicked, "Aww jeez, Mama!" He hated the thought of worrying her for so long.

He had to get back to the Villa. Hours had passed, Vincenzo might be long gone. Massimo would sneak home over the hill where his cave was located, through the orange grove, and onto the secret path near the creek. None of the Vetrano land workers knew the way to the cave. The creek flowed through land that was completely wild and unfarmed. Not even a thug like Vincenzo could find the path.

"Mazzy? Is that you?" Naturally, Gino knew how to find the path.

He was too afraid to speak, what if Gino wasn't alone? He didn't know yet, that Vincenzo couldn't be trusted. His oldest brother must have read his mind.

"Mazzy, it's just me. No one else is here."

Gino bent down and made it past the entrance of the cave to where he could stand. He was feeling his way along the side wall, when Massimo opened his phone for the light.

"Massimo! What the hell have you been doing?"

Massimo rushed to his brother, threw his arms around him and clasped him tightly around the waist. An agony too ancient for a fourteen-year-old boy to bear moaned out of him. He crumbled into sobs on the cave floor. Gino waited until his brother could speak, and when he finished telling Gino what he had seen in the vineyard; he immediately took Massimo to their father.

Hours later, the four brothers waited in the hallway outside their father's office. The viper tank that filled the wall behind his desk was the same wall that divided the hallway and the office. The curtain behind Signore Vetrano's desk was closed. They could see nothing inside the office, only the snakes inside the tank. The thick glass of the tanks prevented sound from penetrating, and the thick wood of the door was almost sound proof. The muffled tone of a heated discussion could be detected, between Papa, Grandpa Vetrano, and their mother. But even if the brothers could hear anything, the adults always spoke in German when they wanted to exclude the kids from their conversations. It drove the brothers crazy.

"This is so unfair!" Antonio pressed his ear against the heavy, dark wood door.

"Antonio, get away from the door!" Gino pulled his younger brother from the door and pressed his own ear to listen. "I can't hear anything, either." He whispered, closing his eyes in concentration.

Gino was suddenly pulled away from the door and replaced by Marco, who stood with his back to the door, arms crossed. A militant soldier guarding his post. While three years separated the two, Marco was built identical to his older brother in height and frame. However, Marco's non-stop martial arts training made him much stronger than Gino, not bulkier and more muscular, just faster and stronger. Marco always said that Gino was the smart one, Antonio was the misfit artistic one, and his own role in the family was to be a soldier for their father. Massimo's role was obvious, he would take over the vineyard someday; every one said Massimo’s blood was made of wine.

Massimo sat on a leather bench along the wall, quietly staring at the floor. Antonio went over to him, sat beside him, and put an arm around him.

"Mazzy, I'm so sorry for what you saw. I can't imagine…" his voice choked. "I gotta say though…you're handling it like a real man." He patted his little brother on the back.

Marco agreed, "Bud, I'd say after today, you're a soldier now."

Massimo's eyes snapped up to his brother, "You think that's a good thing? If that's what being a soldier's about – you can keep it!" Massimo wiped his face with the front of his shirt. He pointed at the ground, "right here, this vineyard – this is all I want with my life."

Massimo stared at the snakes in the tank and whispered, "It was all Uncle Salvatore wanted, too."

Moments later, their mother opened the office door and looked at the four of them. Her eyes and her nose were swollen and red. "Come on boys. We need to talk to you all."

When Massimo passed by her, she pulled him close and squeezed him tightly. Signora Vetrano took her youngest son's face in her hands, and kissed him on each cheek.

"My sweet angel..." She choked, then patted him on the bottom to keep him moving along with his brothers.

They filed into their father's office, which was furnished and appointed like a small apartment. Signore Vetrano sat in a burnt orange, wing-back chair and Grandpa Vetrano sat in its identical twin. They saw where their mother's tea cup sat and her cigarette burned on the coffee table in front of the brown leather sofa, so they avoided her spot. She only smoked in the most stressful of times; when Grandma Vetrano died, when Marco busted his head open breaking bricks with it and was unconscious for two days, when Gino contracted malaria, and now – when Massimo saw their beloved Uncle Salvatore murdered.

"Boys, what has happened is truly un giallo. We don't understand." Their father leaned forward as he spoke. His black hair fell forward over his forehead; he stared at the floor for a moment, a grownup version of Massimo in hallway only moments before. Signore Vetrano took a deep breath, sat up straight and pushed his hair off his forehead.

"We've just learned from someone Grandpa trusts that Vincenzo has been working for the Traficante family." The brothers gasped and grumbled in disbelief.

"We can't fight a family like that." Marco said.

Signore Vetrano shook his head dismally, frowning deeply. "No, and now we know Vincenzo is one of them." He looked to Massimo, and face broke for a split second. Then he righted himself, and looked to his own father.

Grandpa Vetrano's eyes were sunken and watery. "Salvatore was more than il mio amico, he was il mio fratello.” He looked at Marco then his own son, "There must be some sort of rappresaglia from this family."

Massimo had never heard his family talk this way before. He understood that Uncle Salvatore was like a brother to Grandpa Vetrano but what sort of retaliation would be expected? He reached for a bottle of water sitting on the coffee table in front of him, and swallowed the lump in his throat to wash away the dreadful image of losing a brother. He started to ask a question but Gino cut him off.

"So now we're a family that takes out vendettas? Papa, can't the polizia help? Massimo is a witness!"

Fortunata slapped her hand on the arm rest of the sofa. "No! Ma che! My baby will not speak to anyone about this! Non faccia lo stupido!" Gino lowered his eyes and said he didn’t mean to be stupid.

Signore Vetrano explained that they were very afraid for Massimo's life. "Luckily, Gino was smart and didn't tell anyone else that he'd found Mazzy. See, right now…everyone is still looking for your brother."

Their mother lit another cigarette and blew a wide plume of smoke above their heads. Their Papa went on. "The police and our workmen are all searching. Your aunts, uncles, cousins…everyone thinks he's still missing. The TV and radio stations are running alerts, the church is open and serving coffee…everyone wants to help find Don Vetrano's grandson."

Massimo looked to both men, "Papa…Nonno -- why haven't you called off the search? I'm home."

Their mother burst out crying, their father looked tenderly to her, "Fortunata…amore, please." He paused a moment while she blew her nose and settled.

He looked back to Massimo, "Figlio, patience."

"Mi scusi, I'm sorry." Massimo had an anxious feeling and he wanted to comfort his mother but didn't dare move.

"Soon, the morning news will be making the announcement that Massimo has been found." He stopped to take a drink from his glass of wine. "We are going to alert the family, the police, and the rest of the community…that Massimo was found drown and dead in the sea."

Antonio was the first to react with a burst of breath that was more of a laugh. He quickly sobered when he saw his father wasn't kidding. "Papa, what are you talking about? We're supposed to tell everyone Mazzy's dead?"

Massimo was reeling' he felt faint and sick all at the same time. He knew exactly what his father meant and understood why his mother was so upset. His gut told him he was about to lose everything, so he might as well put up a fight.

"I'm not going anywhere." He stood up and faced his father. His chin thrust out a notch, head tilted back, a young soldier ready to battle. Pointing at the ground as he had earlier in the hallway, Massimo declared, "This is my home!"

He looked to his brothers, his usual group of protectors. They weren't on guard for him, not even Marco.

He turned, gently placed his hands on his Grandfather's knees and looked into his face. His dark eyes spilled tears down his olive cheeks. The old man's green eyes pooled.

"Nonno…you understand the love for the vines, I want to work the soil…please…don't let this happen." Nothing. He moved to his mother, fell on his knees before her, "Mama please," begging, hands in prayer, "I've never left home…don't send me away…" powerless, he dropped his head in her lap and sobbed.

Gino jumped out of his seat, "Papa, is he right? Is that what you're doing?" He looked over at his little brother, "Are you sending him away?"

Marco jumped up and bowed his chest to Gino saying he was disrespecting their father. Gino got back in his face and Antonio got between them yelling they both were being idiots; Mazzy was too young to go anywhere, hear Papa out.

When Marco and Gino looked as if they were going to fight, Fortunata looked to her husband, "Guiseppe, do something!" He poured more wine in his glass.

After few more moments of letting the boys argue, Grandpa Vetrano quietly said, "Boys, that's enough. Sit!"

A gunshot couldn't have quieted them faster. Fortunata wiped Massimo's face, handed him his water, and pushed him back to his seat. Guiseppe looked at his father and gave a small nod.

Don Vetrano started, "Massimo and your mother will travel to stay in America for a time. Your father and I will know when it is safe for him to return." This wasn't an option or a debate. "We will mourn the boy as if he is dead. We'll have a funeral, a burial, and a time of black for the family. No one beyond this room can ever know that Massimo is alive." He looked at the three brothers intensely, then his son, and Fortunata, then lastly at Massimo, upon whom his gaze softened. "You have seen such horror…and so young, my boy. For that – I am truly sorry."

The old man's face hardened again and he looked back to the brothers. "Gino, you're the eldest, you'll go to America, too."

An Exerpt from My Novel: "My Brother's Keeper"

Tue, 11 May 2010 22:06:12 +0100

CHAPTER ONE

The air was warm and unseasonably dry on Massimo's fourteenth birthday. He crouched and hid among the grape vines of his family’s vineyard. The sun beat down oppressively; rain was not coming anytime soon. Fortunately, it was close to harvest time. What rain had come did its job and nurtured the crop. He looked on the vines with pride. They were heavy, pregnant with plump, purple grapes that would produce some of the best wine in the Southern region of Italy.

The game of hide and seek had lasted nearly an hour and he was the last one hiding from the seeker, his older brother, Antonio. He urgently felt the urge to pee, but he would not forfeit winning the game. Looking at his new watch, a present from their oldest brother Gino, Massimo saw there were only ten more minutes until Antonio would have to declare defeat, and Massimo would win the game.

“Mi arrendo, hai vinto tu,” cried Antonio several rows away from where Massimo hid. “Mi arrendo, hai vinto tu!”

Massimo knew better than to believe his brother was really giving up and letting him win. He knew if he came out before the full hour was up, Antonio would claim victory. He'd fallen for the same trick at the Palm Sunday celebration the previous year, it wasn't going to happen again.

Massimo heard the voices of someone approaching, yet Antonio’s voice had sounded farther away when he pretended defeat. The only other person in the vineyard was Uncle Salvatore, who was testing the soil many rows away. He would never betray Massimo’s hiding place to Antonio.

Six minutes to go. The voices grew louder. From under the vines Massimo saw Uncle Salvatore’s work boots come closer. He knew they were Salvatore's because of the duct tape the old man wrapped around the ankle of his boots everyday in lieu of laces. A silly quirk the family adored. The winery's warehouse manager complained the cost of the duct tape consistently threw off her inventory budget. Her complaints were ignored, Papa always provided the tape. Someday, when Massimo took over the family business, he planned to let Uncle Salvatore have all the duct tape he wanted. He would never deny the old man anything.

Another pair of shoes joined in behind Salvatore's boots, but Massimo could not tell to whose feet the shoes belonged. They were not the typical field boots the other workers wore. Instead, they looked like expensive leather dress shoes. The men argued and Massimo wondered why someone would be so angry at Uncle Salvatore.

On the other side of the row of grapes where he hid, Massimo saw a gray and brown grass snake slithering along the dusty path toward him. He knew the snake was harmless and non-venomous, but since a few years earlier when Antonio had placed a couple of grass snakes in Massimo's bed as a joke, Massimo had been terrified of all snakes. Their father was fascinated by the reptiles and had been as a boy. Inside Signore Vetrano's office, was an enormous tank filled with exotic snakes from around the world. Massimo avoided the tank of snakes. Uncle Salvatore said if Massimo did not face his fears, he would be afraid of them forever. Massimo didn't care, he was still not brave enough to hold the smallest or most docile of his father’s collection.

To the right, within inches of Massio's hiding place, both pairs of feet quickly stopped. Salvatore’s boots turned away from the fancy loafers and began to walk in the opposite direction. The dress shoes quickly moved close from behind Salvatore’s, and the unknown voice hissed, “traditore” just before Massimo heard a wet, stabbing, cutting sound.

He wondered who would call Uncle Salvatore a traitor and almost separated the grape leaves to see. Before Massimo moved, Salvatore fell to the ground, his face toward Massimo in the dirt.

Salvatore’s eyes seemed to recognize Massimo but clouded over quickly. Blood pooled around his shoulders from the clean slice across his throat. Massimo could see the spongy tissue and white cords of cartilage surrounding the Adam’s apple.

To the left of his hiding place, Massimo saw the grass snake slither up to his crossed ankles and stop against his skin. He gasped too loud. The dress shoes turned in his direction and moved closer to his cluster of grapes. Much of the face that peered in was obstructed by leaves, but Massimo recognized the scar that ran through the left eyebrow puckering the corner of the eye. Vincenzo, a mysterious man, who rarely came around the Vetrano Villa, except at night.

A thick, meaty hand parted the drapery of leaves. Vincenzo’s eyes grew wide with recognition when he saw the boy. Vincenzo saw the snake near Massimo's leg, reached down, picked it up, and crushed it in his hand, inches from Massimo's face. Vincenzo threw it over his shoulder, sneered a sinister smile, released the branches of grape leaves, then turned away from Massimo.

“Paolo! Ho fretta!” He called out.

Massimo heard someone run to their location, stop and ask, “che ce`?” What is it?

Vincenzo ordered, “Afferrare piedi muoviti!”

Paolo quickly helped lift and carry away Salvatore's corpse, a man Massimo loved like a Grandfather. Suddenly, a vine close to Massimo's arm animated and slithered, another grass snake. It slid against him, down his leg, then followed along in the same direction as the death march. Massimo couldn't believe the snake had been there, undetected the whole time. It was well disguised.

He felt the warm wetness between his legs release and flow to mingle with Salvatore’s blood in the soil. The confines of his viniferous hiding place began to swirl and spin before his eyes. He crawled out from the vines into the light, yet didn't realize his hands squished into his own vomit and urine, mixed with Salvatore's blood. Massimo's mind began to shut down in shock. His only thought was that certainly, he had won the game.

When Good Leadership is Tainted

Tue, 30 Mar 2010 21:46:55 +0100

Nearly every major corporation in America is going through, or has been through some sort of shift within its structure. We saw internet providers and technology advance into the twenty-first century well before the twentieth was over. Then, the bubble burst and many folks lost jobs and investment funds. Next, the lending business exploded after an artificially induced high-speed rate of growth that was touted as mirroring the “excessive ‘80s”, but it wasn’t real. The funds weren’t really there, so investors who were ripped off in the millions and the whole nation is trying to sew the holes in their pockets because of the actions of certain banking and lending institutions.

Think about some of the leadership from those companies and what they went through after losing their jobs. Pretty much the same hardships as the rest of us, only their humiliation and guilt may have been tenfold because it was more high-profile. See, not all of those leaders and managers were bad people; they worked at a company with a board of directors that made some bad decisions. Some of these men and women are very talented, highly educated and experienced executives who are back on the open market. Now, they’re ready to sell their skills and knowledge to help build another company and turn it into a successful machine of production. Yet, too many of them are either still unemployed or are only finding jobs that are way beneath their value.

There is a cynical but realist adage that says, too often in life, we are forgotten for the many good works we do and only remembered, by the one, last failure we committed. When an accomplished executive runs the engine of a well-oiled company, there is no daily praise; they're just doing their job. But when the machine breaks down and profits collapse, that’s when the executive is dropped without the golden parachute, and sent out to land on their own. The executive's name is cursed and everything good they've ever done is forgotten. On their way out the door, the only thing anyone remembers is how the entire crash was their fault.

Everyone makes mistakes but what happens when the slap is undeserved? Mid-level leaders know, when machinations are beyond their control, they can either stay quiet and have a job, or take a stand and be unemployed. So, how will "the good guys" in the group that do find work again regain/retain the respect and trust of their employees after negative publicity or a work history at a “tainted” company? Striking up a conversation via a Social Media outlet is one of the first ways to begin regaining the credibility that may have been lost in the mire that came before.

Whether you’re a mid-level manager or the executive who wants workers to understand that you were not one of the few who had a golden parachute to land with when the crash occurred, you can discuss these things openly in a blog. Or you can simply talk about anything else that proves what a regular person you are, things that let the employees know you’re aware of their economic plights. Prove to them that a common pain was felt when things went wrong. Respond to their comments and let your employees know you are listening to them. Find your allies among the rank and file and call on them as a source of credibility. State the fact that you are one of the good guys and be sure to point out the others that went down with the ship who were also good leaders but were led by a bad board of directors.

For those fortunate leaders who are able to find jobs once again, over time you will prove your mettle to your employees because you honestly are one of the good guys. Those who work for you will come to realize that your leadership skills and principles are sound; just keep talking to them through your blog and listen to them when they comment. Don’t expect praise, after all you’re just doing your job. However, you can count on being respected and trusted. That’s all any leader really needs, the key ingredients of loyalty.

Branding With an Impact

Wed, 03 Mar 2010 23:28:13 +0100

If you've started utilizing Social Media for your business and you're seeing results, congratulations! You're one of the many people who have figured out a way to engage an audience, reach out and be a part of the community, and penetrate the market with your Brand.

"With my what?"

If you asked that particular question, you might be missing an opportunity to increase awareness about your business even more so than with your current Social Media tactics. Or, if you're not using Social Media yet and you aren't sure what your Brand is, depending on what your business is, you're probably overdue for some marketing basics. Utilize these basic steps properly and you'll make the right impact.

Have you developed a Brand strategy for your business? Look at whatever branding your company currently has. Is it unified? Do all roads lead back to Rome? What I mean is: does everything look as if it belongs together? Will it all point the way to the door (or website) of your profit machine? Is your logo on every piece of collateral you print? Is it on every email that goes out, or do you at least have a signature with your tagline and information? Do your advertisements have the same "tone" as your webpage, Facebook page, and twitter profile? If one site has a trendy tone and looks like your place of business is where the young crowd comes in to shop and another site has a more conservative tone and looks as though senior citizens play checkers on the sidewalk, you've got a conflict.

    Every piece of print material or promotional item that has your company name on it should be able to stand on its own, perhaps even without your name on it, and be recognizable as something from your company. Your unique logo (Brand), tagline (mine is "Bringing Words to Life!), website address, phone number, and twitter handle should be on everything you hand out. If it won't all fit, make sure at least your logo and, if possible, your website are always present.

    Your brand identity is YOU, or it is your COMPANY and it represents what your company is. One might say it's a symbol. The brand is or will be repeatedly communicated, in many of the ways listed above and within other ways, such as your audience's blogs or other posts. This will continue throughout the life of your business.

    If you are in the process of igniting all of these various fires and you're not sure where to start, take it one step at a time. Keep in mind almost everyone has to start with nothing: no website, no logo, no ideas for taglines, and no clue as to how to begin tweeting and Facebooking. When you stop and consider the fact that people who have utilized your services or visited your place of business are already talking about you to one another, whether or not you have a brand, you might very well be better off starting with Social Media while you are in the process of developing your Brand identity.

    Set up a Facebook page first and a twitter account second. Why invest in an expensive website that will have to be overhauled after you create a color palette, background, logo design, and signature style? Get involved with the community that is out there talking about you now, let them know "things are in the works" if you must, but just get active somehow in letting people know you exist…no, not just the ones who already know you exist, others.

    If all of this is new to you, find someone who will come to you and explain it all. Get some help. You'll have to pay for it if you want GOOD help, but in order to build a business that will PAY you long-term dividends, you must invest. This is the identity of your business, it's public perception, and you want to make a great impression. This is not the place to cut corners and budget. Invest in someone other than your cousin's college friend who is trying to make a few bucks or get a grade by building a website. Would you leave the removal of your appendix to an amateur? Why would you leave the fate of your business's image to an amateur?

    A professional marketer or Social Media strategist will help you develop your brand identity. Once you have unified your brand properly, get active on the Social Media platforms, and you'll penetrate the market. You can make the right impact if you simply start with the basics and do them properly!

If Pepsi Does it, Why Shouldn't You?

Tue, 23 Feb 2010 21:42:02 +0100

If Social Media in lieu of advertising during the Super Bowl is good enough for one of the biggest beverage companies in the world, do you think it might be good enough to deserve a few dollars from your advertising budget?

Pepsi made an unprecedented decision and pulled the plug on advertising during the Super Bowl. Instead, they are investing some of the money they saved ($20 million), in a Social Media campaign. This was the first time in more than 20 years that Pepsi did not have commercials air during half time, before or after the big game on Super Sunday. The ad execs at Pepsi have seen the writing on the wall…or in this case, they've seen the writing in the blogs. They have witnessed the numbers of TV viewership drop and believe the advertising budget is best spent on Social Media.

Other large companies are dedicating hefty portions of their budgets into Social Media, too. According to President and CEO Larry D. Woodard of Vigilante, a Manhattan ad agency, Toys-R-Us created a Facebook page that grew anywhere between 40,000 and 95,000 per day after it was launched. That's an amazing amount of growth for one single business, regardless of how large the company!

So what is the Social Media buzz about? Well, for one thing, SM builds communities between businesses and their audience, or buyers. The conversation about most sizable companies is already taking place online somewhere, anyway. Having it on a website that is run by those companies just makes sense.

However, Social Media might not be right for you. The different ways of interacting through Facebook, Twitter, Digg, Youtube, and many other sites could be something that doesn't appeal to you at this time. Maybe you're unsure about how the metrics or the Return on Investment (ROI) will be calculated. If you're prone to sitting back and waiting to see how something plays out before you get involved, go ahead and wait. However, you're going to be behind when you finally decide to join the rest of us.

Social Media is a constantly changing and evolving animal. Learning how to Twitter was important to understanding how to utilize a tool like Hootsuite. Most of us progressed from Myspace to Facebook, which helped us understand the concept very quickly, simply because we were familiar with the former. Just keep in mind that if you dragged your feet before you succumbed to email, eventually you began to use it for nearly all of your correspondence. This is technology that is not going away. When the time comes to begin a Social Media campaign for your business there will be plenty of specialists around to help you, there already are.

I tend to watch the movers and shakers in order to know what's going on with business and upcoming trends. When a company like Pepsi Cola decides Social Media is a better gamble than running commercials during the big game on Super Bowl Sunday, I tend to put stock in that.

Wendy D. Wells is President of WD Wells Writing and Editing, LLC

She is a Charlotte, NC based, Telecommuting Copywriter, Professional Blogger and Editor.

wwells@wendywellswrites.com

Follow me on Twitter! @WendyWells

Regular Joes in America

Wed, 06 Jan 2010 20:51:55 +0100

I keep hearing about print and online magazines that say they're for "real" people, yet they're still touting wares such as shoes priced from $200 to $500, they're still talking about 401k's and mutual funds, they're flaunting travel to exotic places, or they have articles about women who can pay hundreds of dollars for multiple visits to get Botox injections and chemical peels. These magazines are still not talking to REAL people.

The real people I know shuffle money between a savings account and a checking account each month to pay their bills. Usually one account or the other goes close to a zero balance at least a few times a year if not monthly. The real people I know avoid phone calls from 1 (800) numbers on their phones because they know it's another bill collector calling about a debt they can't pay. Many real people are living off credit cards to pay for groceries, make car payments, take the kids to a doctor when needed, or to pay utilities. When these real people pick up a magazine in a grocery store or go online to read content, they're not looking for the latest pair of $300 shoes or where to invest their mutual funds.

So what do these people want to read about? The same things everyone else wants to read about! Books on the bestseller lists, movies, and music reviews. The library is seeing a resurgence of visitors dusting off their old cards to check out books, DVDs, and CDs as well as to use their computers for internet access. Real people want to read about politics, celebrity news, food, and fashion…just keep it realistic. If fashion is the topic, don't pretend that a pair of $200 jeans is something all of us can afford right now. Maybe a $75 pair of jeans would be more palatable. If you're talking boots and showing us the latest styles, keep the prices to a minimum. Tell us where we can buy them at a bargain. Publish the regional discount warehouses. I know in my area, Off Broadway Shoes is a Mecca of designer discount shoes, boots and accessories. Places like TJ Max often have deals on the end of season styles.

Most of us can't afford cosmetic procedures right now, either. I can't justify injecting poison into my face or chemically burning the skin off of it to make myself look younger. I know the stress of the past year has added a few more worry lines to my forehead than I would like to see but I have learned to live with them. So, when I read articles about $750 procedures to look "refreshed", I actually laugh at anyone who wastes that kind of money. For that kind of money, I would take a relaxing weekend trip someplace, get a massage and a facial, and feel refreshed all over. But I'm a real person and I don't have $750 to burn on my face or a weekend getaway.

I understand the whole concept of escapism behind picking up a magazine. I also know that more than young women are harmed by trying to live up to the images of skinny models in fashion. We're all sucked into a futile attempt at keeping up with a lifestyle we can't have based on what we see in magazines, on TV, and in movies. The fact is, we covet that which we see every day and do not have.

So why not really create a magazine for real people? Instead of a travel section filled with places we can't afford to go, make it an open area for others to contribute ideas of what they do in their particular region on a budget. In the Carolinas, we can do inexpensive day trips to mountains for hiking to see beautiful views off the Blue Ridge Parkway, or we can take a drive to a beach and possibly see wild horses. Plus, nearly every city in America has a Chamber of Commerce bursting with ideas for free or inexpensive family time. Usually, there are areas of a hometown that we never experience ourselves because we don't act like tourists in our own cities. Have you been to all of your local museums and historical attractions? Do the kids know how your town was founded? Do you?

A real magazine for real people wouldn't talk about mutual funds and 401k's. Most of us either lost ours when the economy collapsed, or we never had one to begin with, because we've always needed every dime we earned to live on. Instead, which banks are offering the best specials at the present time for opening an account. Are any credit card companies extending credit at this time? If so, publish that information! Real people need "how to" articles like: wiring money to/from a family member across the country, avoiding repossession of your car, ways to lower auto insurance, talking to your landlord about an extension of rent, talking to creditors about dropping late fees or over limit fees, and other real life issues that are taking place today.

Because of today's economy, I've cut the fat from my household budget where ever I can, so I've let my magazine subscriptions run out. Guess what? I don't really miss them. So until I find the magazine that I'm looking for, one for real people who live on the type of budget that my neighbors and colleagues earn, I'm not buying into any of them. As far as the online publications go, it's pretty much the same. I don't read them, don't comment on their pages, or connect links to/from my blogs at all. I won't support them.

I'm a real person, living in what seems like an unreal time. Unfortunately, this is reality and while the occasional escape is nice, I want to read content and see things that I can really own. That's what will make me feel better in all this chaos of economic crisis. Knowing that there are obtainable goods and services in my price range.

The basic needs are out of reach for many Americans and it's depressing to see clothes, accessories, trips, and lifestyles that are out of reach. Give us the hope our government can't seem to offer. Show us what we can do and have as regular Joes in America. Be real.