Deep in the Brazilian outback, there lives a phenomenon.
A double phenomenon.
A phenomenon twice as phenomenal as your typical phenomenon.
One which began in the 1960′s, continues today, and involves Nazis, genetic experiments on pregnant women, and lots of blonde-haired/blue-eyed babies popping out twice as frequently.
Relocating?
Try a treehouse!
Treehouses aren’t just for kids anymore.
In fact, historically, they never were.
British explorer Capt. James Cook detailed, in his journal, encounters in Tasmania with populations who lived high up in the trees.
During medieval times, Queen Elizabeth I often attended small dinner parties held in a treehouse on the outskirts of London.
And depraved Roman ruler, Caligula, had an enormous treehouse constructed in a forest on palace grounds in which he held upscale banquets that degenerated into wild treehouse orgies!
Thousands of years ago, when attacks on tribes in many parts of the world was common, women in the Kayani tribes of Burma (now Myanmar) began to melt down their valuables & coil them around their necks, arms, and ankles in order to keep their treasure safe.
In the event of an attack, they would be able to escape with all their valuables in tow.
Ingenious, huh?
Imagine being able to have an entire conversation without opening your mouth.
Pretty cool, huh?
You could stuff yourself silly with garlic and onions without worrying about your breath.
Sweet!
Picture it.
Nearly a hundred thousand stray animals – from dogs to donkeys – roaming an entire country.
One animal shelter.
For the whole country.
Just one.
Can you imagine it?
Fatemeh Motamedi didn’t have to. She saw it. Lived with it every day. And until she founded the country’s first and only animal shelter 9 years ago, stray animals there had no hope.
Where?
Iran.
Why?
In my opinion, it’s not wholly a financial issue. Iran is not a poor country. Their tiny wealthy/huge middle-to-low income ratio mirrors our own here in the U.S.
Neither do I think Iranians are heartless. They’re not. In fact, I found them overwhelmingly open-hearted and very conscientious.
So, when I posed the stray animal question during my trips there – to dozens of people from students to mullahs & government officials, from Tehran to the Caspian – I was not surprised by the varied answers I received.
“Ahlan wa sahlan!” (Welcome!)
This is how Dr. Lamees Hamdan - wife, mother of four, and business entrepreneur - welcomes Oprah Winfrey into her 5-bedroom home in Dubai.
And what a beautiful home it is!
High ceilings…warm cherry wood accents…exquisite Persian rugs…gleaming Syrian antiques…unlike compact Danish homes, Hamdan’s residence is reminiscent of a spacious, Homes & Estates Magazine luxury portfolio showcase.
She’s married to a prominent businessman and is, herself, a successful businesswoman and collector of valuable Middle Eastern works of art. She, like most working women of Dubai, also has “house help” – which includes drivers, and housemaids.
Dr. Hamdan explains to Oprah that most working women in Dubai do not cook. Unlike the large majority of American working women, the working women of Dubai don’t have to worry about what’s for dinner. There is a “central kitchen” in each family where a chef cooks enormous meal portions, to be distributed to the various extended families.
Holy kitchen sweat!
Wonder if I could get the best chef in my family to hop on board this ‘central kitchen’ plan? Continue reading
It feels weird.
You contemplate the things you’ll no longer be able to do.
No more chewing. No more biting. No more bottle-cap opening at the pub.
But on the bright side…
…there are irksome things you’re happy to be liberated from: no more brushing…no more grinding your teeth in your sleep.
Because you’ve had them removed.
Voluntarily.
It’s the best way to ensure your championship status. Now, no one will have an uglier face than you!
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry!”
You’ve just bumped into someone on the street, knocking the package in her hand to the ground.
You stoop to pick it up, but you do so quickly because you’re already late.
“Here you are.” You hand the package to her. She stares at you strangely.
“Again, I’m very sorry,” you apologize. As you turn away to hurry on, she calls out.
“Wait!”
Reluctantly, you turn back to her, glancing hurriedly at your watch. Already twenty minutes late. Your wife is going to have a cow. You’re always late.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize to the woman again. “I’m meeting my family at the museum. Feeding our son’s obsession with dinosaurs,” you chuckle. “I really have to run. My wife hates when I’m late.”
To your surprise, the woman has tears in her eyes.
What the…??
Christmas is coming!
The air is crisp and cold. And there’s snow!
Tons of it!
But hang on…why are the streets so empty? Where are the twinkling lights? Why isn’t there any holiday music playing?
And what’s going on with your friends and family? No calls, no invites, no visits, no gatherings…
Most suspicious of all, you’re not being bombarded with advertising. No avalanches of gift ideas slamming upside your head at every turn.
What gives? It’s Christmas. Why is everything so silent? Why do you feel so cold, and alone?
And where the hell is the moon??
