chasebclayton-blog

[chasebclayton-blog]

YVR

Kevin is the kind of man that all should strive to be. He is a loving husband and a great father to his three boys. As a provider, Kevin is no stranger to making sacrifices for his family and when faced with a decision to take a higher paying job that entailed a large amount of travel he did not hesitate to accept it. As a young family, this financial freedom provided the opportunity to send his sons to the best schools and play various sports as well as spoil his beautiful wife. But this came with sacrificing physically being there to witness his boys grow up.

Based out of Vancouver, BC, Kevin was getting to see the world, closing sales deals across the U.S., China, Mexico, and Australia. He was able to visit the famous Pinehurst golf course, private islands, and various vineyards; while also meeting many extraordinary people along the way. He pretty much lived exclusively out of hotel rooms and airport lounges around the world. To Kevin, it felt like such a privilege to be able live such a lavish lifestyle of travel but he was missing the biggest part of his life to see the places and meet these people with, his family. Having to be gone for 2-3 weeks at a time wore on Kevin as he dearly missed playing with his boys and holding his wife. He also felt terrible that his wife was left on her own to try and handle all of the boy’s commitments, as he knew how much work it was when they were doing it together. Despite the perks of the position, Kevin didn’t know how much longer he could take being without his family.

Coming home finally after his latest trip, a life changing event occurred. On the decent to Vancouver, Kevin looked out the window to be greeted by a stunning array of colours within a sunset above the clouds. All he could think about was how badly he wanted his wife beside him so he could hold her hand while they looked at this majestic spectacle together. Once he realized that he would see her soon he relaxed, only until the plane hit turbulence that was worse than he had ever experienced. The plane was tossed around violently as the pilot further descended in search of calm air to fly in. Kevin closed his eyes and prayed that the pilot could land the plane safely, just so he could hold his family again. While is seemed like the pilot would be unable to regain control of the aircraft, Kevin opened his eyes to see that they had emerged underneath the clouds and the pilot announced his apologies for the “rough patch.”

The kiss from his beautiful wife and hugs from his three boys to greet him when he landed that night in YVR, will never again feel quite that good. That next day Kevin called his boss, gave his notice, and promised to his wife that he would never leave them again.

https://www.scitecheuropa.eu/plane-without-moving-parts/91035/

https://www.salesman.org/24-suit-hacks-that-will-make-any-salesman-look-sharp/

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Growing Up

As a young kid you grow up in the comfort of your home. Playing, laughing, crying, loving; just a few of the things that are associated with the memories that come to mind. Once you pass through your adolescence, you begin to resent your home. This place where all these wonderful memories take place becomes a prison where your parents are the warden, and all you want to do is break free. This was a transition that Henry could relate to.

Henry had just graduated high school and was accepted to go to play college hockey far away from his hometown. Being the eldest of three boys, his mother was in complete sorrow coping with her first boy leaving the house. Henry was sick and tired of all the rules that existed at home and couldn’t wait to be beyond the grasp of his loving and caring mother. He packed his vehicle, said his goodbyes, and put that house in the rear-view mirror without even thinking of looking back.

Months later, Henry began to be hit by the harsh realities of being a student athlete. He realized that being on his own meant real responsibilities, and because of his stubbornness neglected his mothers calls and advice. This neglect brought toxicity to his relationship with his mom as she was finally done with the verbal abuse she had taken from her son. Henry’s struggles were evident: failing classes, partying too much, getting into trouble with his coach, and the list goes on. While he thought he had everything figured out initially, Henry had begun to think that maybe he was not cut out for university.

Despite not hearing her out in the first place, Henry still called his mother to tell her that he intended to drop out. Surprisingly she answered, even though all Henry had brought his mother over the last few months was sadness. Henry proceeded to tell his mother that he was going to drop out of university, and his reasons for doing so. He then concluded to say that he wanted to come home. Henry was wrong in thinking that he mother would welcome him back home with open arms, she refused to meet his request. Instead, she made it very clear that he was not welcome home at all or allowed to be near his brothers. She exclaimed, “you will have to figure this one out for yourself, isn’t that what you wanted in the first place?”.

The place that once brought Henry so much anguish and resentment had now become a place of solitude that he yearned for, but it was no longer at his disposal. Respect is everything, and the minute you begin to not respect those that are important to you, respect will eventually be no longer reciprocated. The cliché, you can always go home, is not always a reality for all us but the important point is that the decisions you make determine whether you can or not.

[chasebclayton-blog]

Barret Jackson

Source: https://pixabay.com/photos/biker-harley-harley-davidson-1200-2572585/

A barren desert. Nothing in sight for miles except cacti and a mirage over the steaming hot pavement of the one-way highway. There is no sign stating the nearest town and he realizes that he might be lost, you pull over to the side of the road to take a break and get your bearing.

His name is Barret Jackson, an outlaw biker with a repertoire for violence and criminal activity. But his reputation has been built upon the fact that he rides alone, unlike most bikers.

Barret pulls out his map and lays it on the seat of his bike, taking out a white handkerchief out from his jacket pocket to wipe the glistened sweat of his forehead. The map states Barret is 25 miles from a local biker tavern that he has had his sites on over the past few days. Barret neatly folds his hankerchief and places it once again in his jacket pocket, straddles his Harley Davidson, starts the roaring engine, and peels off into the horizon.

25 miles go by briskly on Barret Jackson’s motorcycle, and soon the tavern is upon him. He slows down pulling into the gravel parking lot beside a fuel pump. He takes off his sunglasses, folds the arms, and places them on the dash of his Harley. Even under the overhang of the fueling station, the heat is almost unbearable, and Barret once again uses his hankerchief to wipe the sweat off his worn and weathered face. After filling his Harley, he stows the fuel nozzle back in the pump and makes his way to the door of the tavern showing a slight limp in his walk with his right leather boot sliding along the gravel to follow the left.

Barret opens the door to the tavern, a classic Motley Crue tune plays in the background, there is a pool table to the left, booths to the right. Barret walks straight ahead to belly-up to the bar, elects to not use the barstool, and places his worn hands on the old and slightly jagged mahogany surface of the bar. “What would you like sir,” asks the elderly and slightly overweight bartender, Barret responds, “I’ll take a Jameson on the rocks.”

The bartender returns and places the beverage in front of Barret and moves on to serve the next bloke down the way. Barret stares intently at his drink, observing the ice slowly melting to cool the alcohol, making the glass glisten. As it seems to haved chilled to his liking, he reaches in, pulls the ice cubes out, and throws the drink back in a swift motion. The bartender then returns.

“You happen to know a Shane Barnaby?... He’s an old friend,” asks Barret. The bartender swiftly replies, “he is sitting with the blonde over your right shoulder.” Barret turns around, confirms, throws down a bill to settle his drink, and saunters over to the table. By the time Shane realizes who he is, Barret already has him rung by the collar and the girls shriek to get out of the way. Barret clobbers him in the face lifts him up purely with the hand that has strung him out, and throws him down on the old table, the legs unable to withstand the force. Barret once again removes his hankerchief, wipes his forehead, slowly exits the bar with no one daring to lay a hand on him, mounts his Harley and peels out the parking lot, kicking up gravel and off into the sunset. He is now where he feels truly at home, on the open road.