Sticky Notes - OOO.

I suppose this is my way of saying it's going to be alright. 

I'm closing up shop for the rest of the week, as I'm sure you're doing the same. So, I'd like to leave you with a recipe before I get the hell out of dodge. 

The Holidays are strange in that they're both happy and sad at the same time.

They're happy because we're surrounded by the people we love.

They're sad because, if we're fortunate to live long enough, we'll eventually experience holidays where the people we love can't make it to the table.

One of these people for me is my late grandmother. 

Meme, as my family called her, could cook her ass off.

Born and raised in Japan but having spent a great portion of her life in Southern Indiana, much of what she made was a fusion between Japanese and good old-fashioned small-town American cuisine.

This stark contrast between the two cultures and their palates left her one versatile chef.

One meal, she'd whip up fried chicken battered in a Panko crust, fried so hot you'd swear it did something to spite her, and she'd pair it with mashed potatoes and gravy so thick and delicious it could plaster your soul back together again. 

Then, the next meal, she'd throw together a beef bulgogi so sweet and savory it'd leave Gordon Ramsey scratching his head. 

However, far and away her greatest recipe was her "Bacon Fried Rice", a take on fried rice so wildly delicious, one bite and you could envision an alternative universe where Pablo Escobar swapped it out for the pure Columbian Cocaine he slung to build his empire. 

If she were still around and she knew you were hurting this holiday season, she'd greet you in her thick Japanese accent outside her little brick home and she'd give you a big hug and shoo you inside, scared to death you'd catch a chill. 

She would then make you a big batch of the following... 

She'd start by steaming a couple pounds of good Japanese rice. Once this was done, she'd place it off to the side.

As it cooled, she'd unearth a pan from her kitchen cabinets so big it could saute the whole world and she'd turn the burner on high. 

She would then chop up a couple pounds of bacon and toss it in the gargantuan pan and let the bacon meltdown for a couple of minutes before adding diced onion and sliced carrots (she'd get the onions and the carrots good and thin).

She would let the onions and the carrots and the bacon fry in the pan until they were all cooked through and she'd remove a bit of the bacon grease from the pan before tossing in the steamed rice.

She cut the bacon, fat, onion and carrot into the rice until the rice took on a light golden hue and with this, she'd add olive oil, salt, pepper and garlic powder to taste. 

Finally, she'd scoop the deliciousness onto a plate, toss a fried egg on top of it and hand you two oversized bottles of Sriracha and ketchup (the latter two aren't required and more or less are a matter of preference). 

This was her way of saying, "I love you".

And, I suppose this is my way of saying that it's going to be alright.

But, I digress. 


By Cole Schafer.

You really need to subscribe to this.

This week on Twitter...

Genius Lyrics...

"After spending the majority of his day staring into the pixilated depths of a computer screen, Schafer is reflecting on the value that a meeting offers (particularly one done virtually) after the 30-minute mark... and he has come to the conclusion that humankind should permanently ban Zoom meetings that go over 30-minutes."

This isn't 60-minutes.

Here's how you get in touch with Seth Godin.

In my latest, greatest guide to date, you'll learn how to become the Don Draper of Cold Email. No. It won't change your life. But, it will teach you how to get in touch with people that just might. 

Laura Belgray, over at Talking Shrimp, shares how early on in her career, she got in touch with the Oprah Winfrey of financial literacy and how years later it resulted in her landing her agent. 

Zak Kuhn, over at The Nashville Briefing, shares how he got in touch with The Seth Godin and managed to book him on his country music podcast.

There are more tales of ambitious email endeavors where these came from. But, you have to pay $117 on the other side of the black button down below. 

I accept card.

We should shovel shit every once in a while to remind ourselves who we'd be if we weren't who we are. 

There is a moment in the hit series, Peaky Blinders, where Tommy Shelby, played by Cillian Murphy, walks into a horse stall owned by The Shelby Company, takes off his trenchcoat, tears off his newsboy cap and tosses them both to the side.

He then picks up a pitchfork, sticks it into a steaming pile of horse shit and hay and begins pitching.

His employee, Curly, who is already hard at work at the same task, stops what he’s doing, in complete shock, and asks…


“What are you doing, Tommy?”

Tommy, a bit out of breath from the shoveling, answers…

“Shoveling shit, Curly. Just like you.”

Curly quickly asks a follow-up question…

“Why are you doing that, Tommy?”

Tommy answers again, in his pithy, precise prose where very little words are wasted…


“To remind meself what I’d be, if I wasn’t who I was.”

"It's the fooking Peaky Blinders."

P.S. If this newsletter made you weak in the knees, you can share it with the world by selecting one of the four icons down below... 

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