The Silver Lining… Near Wipe out in Vienna… Avoided.

11/22/2016

0 Comments

Picture

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant

If you have been reading my arts columns over the last several years, you know that I have a particular fondness for the largest auction house in Continental Europe, Dorotheum.

Based in Vienna since 1707, Dorotheum presents over 600 auctions in a year on a wide variety of subjects. In fact, one might visit Dorotheum for one thing, find another, and be lost amongst the glittering gewgaws. At least that was so for me.

Over the last several years, in and around the year 2008, annus horribilis, that it is, I have savored the low prices Dorotheum has presented on a silver salver, of course. I would walk away from a single auction with a shower of historic silver.

The folks in Western Europe at the usual suspects, Sotheby’s, Christie’s, and Bonham’s, didn’t seem to know anything about the attractive doings of Eastern Europe. And their advice was always bland and unsatisfying. They did not care. It was all reminiscent of British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain and his famous statement just before WWII:

“How horrible, fantastic, incredible it is that we should be digging trenches and trying on gas-masks here because of a quarrel in a far away country between people of whom we know nothing.”

Well, if the statesmen of Europe knew nothing about Eastern Europe, the silver connoisseurs knew even less, and cared not a whit.

Enter the dashing American (that would be me)

I am a firm believer in the oldest business adage there is: buy low, sell high. And by dint of constant effort, I expanded my hunting territory from just Manhattan, to London, Paris, Amsterdam, etc. And while I looked at these places with keen interest and growing success, I was certain that the great kingdoms of Eastern Europe had produced a plethora of beautiful objects, storm tossed by war and revolution… ready for a perspicacious hunter and collector like me. And I was right to do so.

Eastern Europe is a treasure trove of items made for kings and princes, buffeted and crushed by communists, fascists, and silverfish. In short, a delightful place in which to saunter through a lifetime. But the price is always less than you’d dare imagine.

Unfortunately, as the other old adage says, all good things come to an end. So it was in the residue of imperial, royal, and noble artifacts… dispersed by the wind, and the tramping feet of careless soldiers, eager only to go home. Now, times have begun to change at the Dorotheum. And the results of today’s silver service sale proves this point beyond cavil.

As usual, I had prepared for the silver market with exemplary habits. I knew what I wanted, I had read the provenance, talked to the experts, I had my money ready, and my battle grit, too.

Catastrophe

But Eastern Europe, and the Dorotheum with it, are no longer the imperial cousins down on their luck. I love those cousins… I love their lousy luck… I love the cascade of imperial artifacts at bargain prices. And that is why I was unhappy today when I bid on over 20 items, and got just one.

Prices have now exploded, as I must honestly admit they were bound to do. In the light of this price explosion, I am grateful that when their luck was down, I bought and bought and bought, and came home with my last penny in my pocket, and a song in my heart.

The item is a sugar box. Now it is difficult for us in America to understand how important sugar has been throughout our history. In the French and Indian War (1756), the French gave away the Canadas for the isle of Martinique. Why? Because Martinique produced sugar. And so a tiny island was exchanged for what the acid critic Voltaire (1694-1778) called a few acres of snow. There are no statues of Voltaire in Canada, not even in Quebec.

Sugar was so valuable that it was locked in boxes, often with several keys, and always retained by the chatelaine of the home, and woe betide any schoolboy with mischief on his cheek and a single granule of sugar about his person. Sugar was the master’s prerogative, and he used it ruthlessly to gain his domestic objectives.

I have been collecting boxes for some time now, and I own to being intrigued by them. A box means something important. A locked box means something of great importance, indeed.

I first became interested in boxes when I worked in the public records office in London, working on my book “Insubstantial Pageant: Ceremony and confusion at Queen Victoria’s court”.

In 1887, Queen Victoria held her 50th anniversary, her Golden Jubilee. Every person of consequence in the Empire on which the sun still never set, and many who were not, sent boxes to Her Majesty filled with the loyal addresses of their constituents. And the higher the rank of the individual submitting a box of consequence, the more unique, valuable, and awesome it must be.

No scholar had ever studied these hundreds and hundreds of loyal addresses and the caskets that carried them to the foot of royalty. No one that is until I came along. These boxes had, during WWII, been buried beneath the streets of London, the better to preserve them against the inroads of the Luftwaffe.

Sadly, many had been destroyed by those Nazi aces. But now, each day the antiquated elevator brought from deep below the great city its cargo of boxes, sent by the maharajah of this, the prince regent of that, the ambassador of, and each and every cabinet minister and public servant from realms and republics great and small.

It was an avalanche of the historically unique, beautiful, and never before seen, now exhumed for me. In short order, I gathered an immense following of people who wanted to see what I dug up. I was in short the toast of the public records office, if only champagne had been allowed.

I shall continue to collect boxes, particularly boxes with royal coats of arms and heraldic devices, with engravings which often are cryptic, as if between two lovers. Boxes suggest things of value, kept only for the sender and the recipient. With a box, we can hear in our mind the sounds of the owner, the sender, the thief who stole them, and the rescue squad, which dug out the owner and spilled his box across the fragments of what had once been a great house on a great road, now just shards and confused survivors.

I am, you see, of a fanciful disposition. If I do not know the history of the box I can, working with incomplete shards and pieces, weave you a story. And I am pleased to note that whenever I talk about boxes, I always gather a crowd, for they too want to know what each box contains. And so I have come to learn that boxes have an important role in our history, right up to Her Royal Majesty Queen Elizabeth herself.

Each day, each hour, Her Majesty is besieged with boxes, cabinet boxes. To these boxes Her Majesty has the key. And so as she sits unlocking the boxes that arrive any time of the day or night, she is answering for herself the question of every hour: what is in the box?

Now there is nothing in my sugar box except memories. But I can change all that in an instant. Some of these days I will want my breakfast cereal to have what I usually forego… that is to say, sugar. And when I want it, I want it delivered in a box. A sugar box. Then set upon my table, ready for the compliments which inevitably come. “Oh, what a lovely box!” It is, isn’t it?

And that is why today, with soaring prices, causing me to overbid my usual amount, still without success except in this one instance, a day which initially promised success along the usual lines, surprised me with a huge increase in prices, thereby leaving me nothing to show for my efforts. Nothing, that is, except this box. I shall enjoy unraveling its mysteries, and sharing them with you.

Musical note

I have chosen as an accompaniment to this article a song by sultry Nina Simone (1933-2003). She wants some sugar in her bowl. Will you be man enough to give it?

“I want a little sugar
In my bowl
I want a little sweetness
Down in my soul
I could stand some lovin’
Oh so bad
Feel so lonely and I feel so sad”

Man, open that box and let the lady in. You haven’t been there for so long.

***

Howard Martell is the Owner of http://HomeProfitCoach.com/silver . Check us out anytime for marketing tips and a free subscription to our cutting edge newsletter.

About the author

Author Dr. Jeffrey Lant, still knocking them dead at 70, has just completed his 58th book. The more he writes, the more he publishes, the more he has to say. In the last few paragraphs of Volume 1 of his two volume autobiography “A Connoisseur’s Journey: Being the artful memoirs of a man of wit, discernment, pluck, and joy.”, Dr. Lant’s stern and loyal seneschal Sir Maximiliano von Rabbit hands a golden box to his ailing master and whispers a secret to change his life. He then places a letter in the box, and locks it, taking away the key and leaving us all to wonder, what secret did Max pass to the Prince?

To see Dr. Lant’s complete oeuvre, go to www.drjeffreylant.com. And never eat your sugar alone.

Big day in the Big Apple for Dr. Lant and The Lant Collection

In the 1950’s, if you were lucky enough to live in Chicagoland as I was, you would inevitably encounter the Wanzer milk television commercial starring Carmelita Pope, “Wanzer on milk is like sterling on silver.” And no doubt it is.
But I went for the cream, not the milk, on this trip to New York, and walked away with seven pieces of highly desirable antique silver. What’s more, each piece was acquired at below the low estimate. Each and every one, that is to say all four were as reasonably priced as one could wish, always allowing for the fact that one had to pay something.
My Sotheby’s representative was astonished that all four of my acquisitions came in at below the low estimate. “How did you do that?”, she asked. No cat could have purred a better response.
Thus, this report from the silver lining is a testament to my modus operandi: how to acquire more for less.
First of all, this desirable outcome can only be the result of prolonged study and application. In short, you have to know what you’re talking about. And it has taken me any number of years, plus any number of silver catalogs, from all the major auction houses across the world, to feel reasonably confident that I cannot be completely humbugged, and that, from time to time, I may be fortunate enough to outsmart the experts… which happened with these four pieces.
So, let us review my bounty.

Picture

Lot 715
First, four silver salad bowls by William Fountain (1819), fluted, the centers engraved with arms, marked on sides below rim. 67 oz 15 dwt; 2108.6 g; diameter 10 1/4 in; 26 cm.
This period of English silver is called Regency, after the Prince Regent, later George IV. Every element of the fine arts is stylish and in your face during the Regency. It is almost impossible to buy a bad artifact from the Regency, though many have tried (quite successfully too). And for those of you who have your lunch salad out of a styrofoam container, eat your heart out.
I shall be feeding milord and his lady with subdued, unmistakable splendor. By the way, the arms you see on these bowls are those of Neville impaling Cornwallis. You will remember Lord Cornwallis, who surrendered to the Americans at Yorktown, thereby ending the revolution. I hope his salad bowls cheered him up.

Picture

Lot 762
My second acquisition is a George II Silver Salver, Edward Feline, London, 1734; circular with lobed border, engraved with strapwork border and arms in a baroque cartouche; marked on base; 16 oz 10 dwt; 516 g; diameter 9 3/4 in; 24.8 cm; the arms are those of probably Aiton quartering Campbell, impaling Bottell, Fraxine or Ponsonby.
This dish is part of a set, dating from 1734, about the time English silver begins to be the envy of the world. Lovely, isn’t it? When you pop by, I shall be sure to show it to you.

Picture

Lot 771
My third acquisition is a Queen Anne silver salver on foot, Jacob Margas, London, 1706; plain circular on trumpet foot, engraved with contemporary arms in baroque cartouche; marked on surface and foot; 15 oz 10 dwt; 485 g; diameter 9 3/4 in; 24.8 cm.
The thing you must keep in mind about silver from the reign of Queen Anne (1665-1714), is that it is valuable simplicity. At the Court of Queen Anne, people tried to impress each other (as they always do at a royal court), but it was impressing each other with how little decoration they could get away with, not how much.
Anne herself was a plain spoken woman, burdened by too much weight and the death of every child she ever conceived (13). But she knew who she was, and what people say is that the silver from her time is real, actual, not overwhelming, but always valuable.

Picture

Lot 779
My fourth acquisition is my only one from this auction from the Victorian age. It is a stunning inkwell, so emblematic of the age in which it was produced. It is heavy, impressive, in your face, bombastic… a thing to be reckoned with, used by the paterfamilias, whose desk in the library it would have graced, saying the the world, “Here’s a good English gentlemen, a man of money, reputation, and stern consideration.” Here is a description:
A Victorian silver large inkstand, Benjamin Preston, London, 1832; on four scrolled shell feet and with bold rococo borders; the central seal box supported by two fully-modeled eagles and topped by a taperstick, fitted with two silver-mounted cut-glass jars; marked throughout; 74 oz weighable; 2301.4 g; length 15 in; 38.1 cm.
I shall enjoy placing this stunning object, for it deserves our full attention. It will join what some are now calling the largest collection of inkwells in the world, and perhaps it is… after all, I know a good thing when I see it, and have snapped up any number of inkwells, a suitable emblem for writers, don’t you think?
All three volumes of Treasures From The Lant collection can be found on Dr. Lant’s author page at: http://www.amazon.com/author/jeffreylant/
***
Howard Martell is the Owner of http://HomeProfitCoach.com/silver . Check us out anytime for marketing tips and a free subscription to our cutting edge newsletter.
About the author
Now 70, a bonafide septuagenarian, Harvard educated Dr. Lant looks upon his much favored life with happiness and joyful acclimation. Author of nearly 60 books and well over 1,000 articles, this is a man who knows how to tell a story and tell it well. To see his complete oeuvre, go to www.drjeffreylant.com.
There, you will also find details on our Guaranteed Future Millionaire Club. You’ll certainly want to join us.

New acquisition for The Lant Collection highlights how you build a collection.

Picture

Today’s auction at Sotheby’s in London of European ceramics, silver, and objects of vertu showed me, as usual, front and center. As I sat by the telephone waiting for my auction representative at Sotheby’s to call, I considered what traits you must necessarily possess to build a valuable collection and asset.

First, you must be constant in your task. Whether you like it or not, you cannot let an auction go by, for that may be the very auction in which the best deal of your life could appear. It happens all the time, especially to those who are assiduous, like I am.

Second, you must always be in pain. Ardent collectors know exactly what I mean. To build a valuable collection means extending yourself and popping up in the red at regular intervals. In other words, no pain no gain.

Third, you must be regular in your auction view, general research, and overall education in your field. You cannot say you’re a collector if the last thing you purchased was five years ago in a flea market.

Fourth, you must want to astonish the rubes. One of the main reasons for collecting is to awe people who do not have your taste, sophistication, talent for skullduggery, and strategy. They need to see what you have done, and you need to be magnanimous in showing your brilliant work, after all, you have been assiduous, efficient, and determined, and your friends and neighbors should be given the opportunity to say so.

Now, having said all this, I welcome a new object in my family… this 17th Century silver dish. Now think for a second at how much water has gone under the bridge since 1659, when Johann Hofner of Nuremberg fashioned this bold and in-your-face composition.

For one thing, this period of European history found every King and Elector in constant war and thus in unending financial distress. What do you do when you need to pay the restive troops before they sack your palace? Why of course, melt every silver object you can see, and melt them quickly, since the money is overdue.

The melting of 17th Century European silver was erratic but thorough. Very few pieces of worth got through this periodic culling of valuable silver and gold objects. What you’re looking at in this plate is one very lucky example of something that survived.

Now the last thing I need at this precise moment in my life is another valuable thing. In the next few weeks, nearly 50 lots of astonishing European artifacts of all kinds are arriving from London, just in time for Christmas. If I were a lazy man, a slothful man, a man inclined to self-satisfaction, or any other derelict collector, I would say “Ho ho ho” and declare that enough is enough, at least for now.

However, I am of the obsessive genre who goes just a little further, whether money is readily available or not, and whether I “feel” like going through the aggravation (for there is always aggravation in acquisition).

To achieve the best, to achieve the impossible dream, one must push one’s self, like it or not. And that is why I was sitting at my end of the telephone line to London just a few hours ago, in the dark, in the cold, for Londinium is 5 hours earlier than Cambridge, and this was a morning auction (from my standpoint).

But it was all worth it. And so, a piece of rare 17th Century silver, dazzling, blinding, brilliant workmanship, finds a good home and a respite for its own constant travels, for you may be sure this stunning object has been atraveling throughout its long, lucky life. It has, for now, arrived at a comfortable locale, and that is enough for today.

A German parcel-gilt embossed silver dish, Johann Hofner, Nuremberg, 1659-60; the undulating border chased with flowerheads around a further central example between leaf scrolls, underside later engraved L.J.K.; 17.5cm, 6 3/4 in diameter; 115gr, 3oz 14dwt.

Howard Martell is the Owner of http://HomeProfitCoach.com/silver . Check us out anytime for marketing tips and a free subscription to our cutting edge newsletter.

There are now three volumes of “Treasures from The Lant Collection”. Dr. Jeffrey Lant, Founder
Find them plus other books by Dr. Lant at: http://www.amazon.com/author/jeffreylant/

***

About the author

Now 70, a bonafide septuagenarian, Harvard educated Dr. Lant looks upon his much favored life with happiness and joyful acclimation. Author of nearly 60 books and well over 1,000 articles, this is a man who knows how to tell a story and tell it well. To see his complete oeuvre, go to www.drjeffreylant.com.

[Video] Excerpts from “Tales of All Hallows’ Eve, Halloween”

[Video] Ex Libris

Picture

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author’s Program Note.First there was the thunderclap, sharp, unyielding sound overawing all, pulling me anxious from my bed; to be swiftly followed by a cascade of erratic sound, my sundered rest punctured by noises that made the end of the world seem puny and insignificant by comparison. I was alone and soon to be unhappy, bereft, no comfort, my world altered forever.

This is the story of what happened just the other day. I know that sympathetic folk worldwide will join me in my lamentation… for this is a tale any one of us could have penned and which all of us might easily share and could as easily experience.

I call it Ex Libris, and it is a sad tale.

“84 Charing Cross Road”

If you’re a Bibliophile like I am, I don’t have to introduce you to this cinema classic released in 1987. It features an adamant, opinionated, chain-smoking, wise-cracking, irreverent New York writer (is there any other kind?) expertly played by Anne Bancroft (1931-2005), a lady in love with books, the more obscure and esoteric the better. Her correspondent is a soft-spoken London-based expert in finding out-of-print English books. (perfectly rendered by Sir Anthony Hopkins b. 1937).

He has at first no clue quite how to handle this rather alarming customer; then discovers that she is what all writers and lovers of  language require, a Kindred Spirit, puckish, golden hearted, honest to a fault, friend, jousting companion, lover of words, lover of those who shape these words, dram at the ready but never to excess; willing to let the rest of us into their enthralling lives, changing us forever, even the ones who bathe infrequently and are too vocal about their ill-considered (and frequently
changed) politics.

I had absolutely no trouble adhering to the rites and precise rituals of their arcane mysteries, not just in London either, but New York, Los Angeles, Paris, Oxford, Chicago. Chicago?

Purists may wrinkle their fastidious noses but, yes, Chicago where I sprawled for hours (age 12 or so, thank you very much) in the magic caverns tottering in unimaginably lofty formations on Clark Street. Yes, Chicago, “my kind of town, Chicago is” where I often heard my mother warn me that I could have all the books I could carry but not one more. Then hear my practised wheedling for more and still more, for my mother believed in the curative powers of disintegrating fine tooled leathers and the cats which could lead you if they would to wondrous editions not yet found by my tardy and less persistent competitors. Yes, Chicago, too, by all means, and proudly.

Where have these discriminating tabbies and their erudite successors gone? I feel guilty and ashamed that I don’t know, such is the undeniable pull of these establishments and their silky inhabitants down my ages. Forgive me!

“The Look”.

I know now what I could hardly even imagine then; that I was either born with or early acquired the unquestioned demeanor and certain stance and undoubted swagger of a Bibliophile. That is to say, I was a lad for whom doors were open wherever I went, wherever books in all their aspects and appurtenances were favored, as they were widely and worldwide.

Unfavored school mates and taunting cousins (self designated sans peur et sans reproche, especially if a grid iron and locker room were involved) might deride, but they would do so at their considerable risk and undoing. Bibliophiles, remember, have the benefits of deep memory and the certainty that revenge is a dish best tasted cold.

In those long-ago days I brought home a steady stream of prizes with resounding names, grandiose certificates, the letters patent of our realm, and even Yankee cash on the barrel head. Such unanticipated (to them), irritating developments, which caused my more brawny, athletic peers to rethink their positions, and (no matter how reluctantly) to treat me with the reverence and veneration I so richly deserved. Parents of such sad scoffers might be heard, and in public, too, intoning this righteous sentiment: “Why can’t you be a scholar like Jeffrey?,” words which no doubt enlivened and encouraged the sorry lot. Their roles in life have no doubt been the better for it.

Every click a diminishment, a certain loss, a looming tragedy.

I live in the middle of the greatest constellation of words in the Great Republic, Fair Harvard and dozens of institutions of higher and other learning, over 70 such institutions just minutes away, the whole one of the greatest achievements of our species and a light to people everywhere who appreciate and advocate humane values and a world of peace, serenity, fairness, and equality, the hallmarks of this special place and its abiding message to the ages.

Generations from now historians and other researchers into our past will call this the Golden Age, the final days of what we have worked so diligently for a thousand years to create, foster, and maintain, including language and the books which enshrine it forever.

The proven vandals, the assured barbarians are not just at the gate, they are placed within our glorious precincts by our very children, placed here by committed parental thrift and scrimping; each more adept than the one before in their proven ways to eradicate what we have so loved, supported and honored; imposing standards which are no standards at all.
Come to Cambridge, to Harvard. The future is breaking here like a brand new, unwelcome dawn. As if by wizard’s wand, institutions once boasting that they were citadels of progress and the liberal arts now are teetering on the knife edge of extinction; buildings gone, faculties dismissed, the very idea of liberal arts and progress derided and dismissed; the potent weapons click by click on the agile fingertips of the young and careless, are dooming not just multitudes, useless cargo on Spaceship Earth, but our very species. Truly Father forgive them for they know not…

I’m forced to join the revolution

I have for the last many years, harbored a guilty secret. I cannot bear to send my books to other homes and foreign shores. I hide them in places where even I forget, but better work of literature misplaced by sympathetic hands than gone forever, a sacrifice to the savages and their wanton ways.

The books that fell were a small part of the thousands of books which have found sanctuary here and over the course of my entire life. They were stacked and crammed and buried and pushed and shoe-horned into a space sustained by the thickest of woods, mahoganey. Now and again I would look at them and sigh, for like “Sophie’s Choice” (1979) by William Styron, I knew I would have to make a decision, and that the decision would be unwelcome, whatever I decided to do.

And so, God stepped in, impatient with my inability to decide, and said, as sure as he’d send a telegram, “Clear the shelves of these books!” And He did.

Thus, my precious books, though only a few hundred of the total inventory, were marked for extinction, coming in the shape of the Goodwill truck from Somerville. They have pestered me often for them, and now, at last, they shall have their way. Of course I feel terribly, which is silly, isn’t it? Because as my assistant, Kris McNamara said as he helped me pick up the fruit of generations, “Everything you want is on the internet anyway, what’s the big deal?” But then, he is only 33, and can scarcely remember anything the outrage that I have lived with for so long. And so we in our turn shall be forgotten, too.

The Goodwill truck will come, life will go on, though admittedly altered and lessened. As for me, I have hidden as many of them as I can, in places no one would ever look. You see, I shall not go down without a fight, all flags flying, every page intact, every word. For even if I become known as the last man of suitable standards and goals, I shall accept that title, that honor, with gladness and pride, the stearnest demeanor… for even then there will be hope.

Envoi

Whether you have seen “84 Charing Cross Road” before (lucky), or, whether this is your first time seeing this magnificient film (lucky), this distinctly moving film, I advise you to go to any search engine and watch it. In the meantime, here is the film score to whet your appetite:

http://ow.ly/ZaYC304zvuM

In some ways, technology is a blessing.

Howard Martell is the Owner of http://HomeProfitCoach.com/silver . Check us out anytime for marketing tips and a free subscription to our cutting edge newsletter.

About the author

Dr. Jeffrey Lant, Harvard educated, started writing for publication at age 5. Since then, he has published over 1,000 articles and 57 books, and counting. For information about his oeuvre, go to:

www.amazon.com/author/jeffreylant/

Remember, even rich and successful authors derive acute satisfaction from letters of ebullient content and affection.
Tune in as Dr. Lant shares some of his favorite books in his Bibliophile Series Vol.1

Updated !!!The boy next door… the best of the Great Republic. You sleep easy throughthe night because of him… and millions like him. A Tribute!

 

I wanted to share with each of you this special occassion!

The boy next door… the best of the Great Republic. You sleep easy through the night because of him… and millions like him. A Tribute!

Author’s program note. When was the last time you considered the state of our Great Republic and did anything — anything at all — to sustain and improve it?

If you cannot immediately say and cannot recall what you did, if you have nothing but rancorous thoughts and feelings about our continuing great experiment in the governance and well being of mankind, then stop and focus your full, undivided attention on this article and its subject: Howard Hector Martell, Jr. For this day, like every other day over the past 20 years, Howard Martell has served us… you, me, the Great Republic, all of us able to live life as we wish because of him and his colleagues in every great service of our great nation.

To set the stage for this story, to provide the essential sound, I have selected music from one of the greatest public affairs programs ever — “Victory at Sea.” It is a documentary television series about naval warfare during World War II that was originally broadcast by NBC in 1952-1953. The stirring music was composed by Richard Rodgers and Robert Russell Bennett. Rodgers, well known for a string of iconic Broadway musicals, contributed 13 “themes”; short piano compositions a minute or two in length. Bennett did the scoring, transforming Rodger’s themes into a variety of moods, all designed to touch your heart and fire your imagination. The result was pure magic.

Find out for yourself. Go now to any search engine. Listen to a few of the “themes” to get you started. I like “Hard Work and Horseplay”, “Theme of the Fast Carriers” and, of course, “The Song of the High Seas.” However, to honor Howard Martell, listen to “Guadalcanal March.”  It is the essence of what a grand march should be… the kind of march Howard has so well earned… I’m playing it now as I write.

New London.

New London, Connecticut is a seaport city and a port of entry on the northeast coast of the United States. It is located at the mouth of the Thames River which locals demand you pronounce to rhyme with “James”, unlike the great river of London, England which rhymes with ‘hems”. The folks in New London insist upon their rendering; after all, they were part of the victorious Revolution that tossed the Brits out — and their eccentric pronunciations. As you hear this said, you begin to grasp the fact that New London is not merely a place of picturesque aspects; just what meets the eye. Rather, it is a place where young boys glimpse the great sea at hand, so beckoning, and dream dreams of faraway places and what life can be.

Howie Martell was such a boy.

He was born June 27,1973, attended local schools, graduating from Griswold High School. People remember him, if they remember him at all, as shy, uncertain; a boy who would smile at you… but only after you had smiled at him. Teachers with many students to instruct would remember him indistinctly and call him “average.” But such an appraisal would have been incomplete, inaccurate, failing to capture his essence, for this boy was a dreamer of great dreams… and New London, for centuries the home port of audacious mariners, offered him the means to live them, mere dreams no longer.

On August 10, 1992, just 19, he left the comfort of family, friends, the only place he had ever known, placing his future in the hands of strangers who would, in due course and short order, become comrades, a word civilians may know but so seldom understand. And so Howard Martell entered the service of the Great Republic, discovering a destination more important than any of the 48 countries he came to visit. He found himself… and became a man.

From this point, his resume tells the story… it is all USN, the resume of a man who studied hard, knew his business — the Great Republic’s business — and was esteemed by superiors who always found him ready to assist, eager to learn, and above all trustworthy and responsible.

In the process a man was shaped who was the complete Navy professional, respected by all, able to be, as events required, a man who could lead, a man who would be loyal, a man you wanted on your team, because he (and this touches the heart of this man) always stood for the success of his team, never just his own. As people came to know him, they saw this… and admired the man who put collective success above mere personal gain. Thus the Navy took Howard Martell, once a shy boy no one could quite remember, to its heart. He received one deserved honor after another… Navy Good Conduct Medal… six times… Navy & Marine Corps Achievement Medal… four times… Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal… Iraq Campaign Medal… two times. And most telling of all a plaque from his fellow First Class Petty Officers who thereby saluted one of their own. He was indeed the complete Navy man…  a man who twenty years before had made the right decision.

The need for service in the age of selfishness.

It is a truism that older citizens will engage in endless rodomontades which detail the innumerable outrages perpetrated by the young against society. How they are ill-educated, lazy, unkempt, unclean of body and language. How they cannot be depended upon… how they flout all established behavior, video game obsessed wastrels who cannot be trusted and will never amount to a hill of beans. Thus goes the jeremiad; you can catch a whiff of it whenever two adults of fifty or so gather. From the very start of the first civilization each man steps into this argument in his maturity, as easily as he dons casual clothes. It is one of the perqs of aging, and no senior citizen will ever give up this sacred right to pontificate. I shall not give it up either and so I give you some pungent thoughts on the matter of service, a concept that alternates between being an afterthought and the salvation of the nation. What we require is calm reflection and sensible policies on the matter. And so I choose to use my words not to grumble but to exhort… to touch a shy boy or girl reading this article and help them both select the responsible path, the path trod by Howard Martell and generations of young people before… the path of service… and the abiding need of the Great Republic for… you!

Young friend, our way of governance, our core beliefs, the very future of our noble enterprise is not only challenged, but at risk. You have a choice — mindless dissipation and decay, or personal development and redemption through the bestowal of your time, mind and heart to the pressing affairs of the Great Republic. In short, you can ignobly remain part of the problem, or become infinitely more valuable as part of the solution.

There is nothing neutral about this decision. It is of the greatest possible consequence and can only be made by you. A great idea, the greatest notion of statecraft ever propounded, the Great Republic itself awaits your verdict, hopeful, expectant, confident. Howie Martell made the right choice. Will you?

… And now it is time to end Howard’s military career with all the pomp and circumstance he has earned… and which a grateful Navy can provide.

Stand forward Petty Officer First Class Howard Hector Martell, Jr.. For your service, your nation, your friends, family and comrades mean to honor you before the world in due recognition for what you have so abundantly given… above all the gift of loyalty and fidelity to a great institution so needed by this great nation.

And so through each of the hallowed retirement traditions all Naval personnel know so well… until this event, at once festive and solemn, reaches the Shadow Box. This is a symbol of a sailor’s many career accomplishments and recognitions. Shadow boxes contain a U.S. flag folded into a triangle, ribbons and medals, insignia and revered devices. They act as a reminder of ranks earned by the retiree and the awards received. It is a mark of the highest honor and cherished accordingly. Yours, Howard, comes complete with the unqualified gratitude of the nation you have served so well… none better… and the sincere thanks of us all. May God grant you sunshine and a fair wind to your many ports of call still to come.

Envoi.

End this article by returning to any search engine and playing the “Victory at Sea” theme. It remains glorious.

Howard Martell is the Owner of http://HomeProfitCoach.com/silver . Check us out anytime for marketing tips and a free subscription to our cutting edge newsletter.

How to stay focused and make money on days you DON’T feel like it!

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant

Did you lay in bed this morning unwilling, unable to get up? Did every fibre of your body demand more time in the sack? Was it a struggle to open an eye… and get up?

Sure enough, if today wasn’t like this, some of your many tomorrows will be. You need to be prepared for such inevitabilities… because they can and will occur and can and will sabotage your ability to make money. Here are some suggestions that’ll help you rise and shine… suggestions I use myself when getting up and getting going are most decidedly NOT my first priority!

1) Create a “to do” list before you go to bed.

The key to making tomorrow organized, efficient, and profitable is what you do today. Make it a rule before you retire for the night to draw up a clear, clean, specific “to do” list. Write it, read it over, put it next to the bed… then turn off the lights.

While you’re sleeping your subconscious mind will be busily at work helping you organize and implement the items on your list. Even when your body is screaming for more sleep and all the creature comforts it can get, the brain — and your crucial “to do” list — will be helping you get up and at ‘em.

2) Take a cold shower.

The British empire, the largest the world has ever known, was practically built on a cascade of frigid water. Its young men, pillars of the imperium, were shipped off to prep schools and immediately subjected to the jarring temperatures which will work for you as well as it worked for them. Don’t stand there and debate…. turn up the cold tap and plunge! You’re about to be invigorated, rejuvenated, primed to run your empire.

3) Do some exercise.

Are you huddling in a corner of your kitchen, hands gripping a cup of joe, comfy in your bunny slippers? Whoa! This isn’t helping getting your act together. You need some brisk, bracing exercise… the kind guaranteed to send vital oxygen to that all- important brain.

Put the steaming liquid down and kick up your heels… or quick-step around your back yard or up and down your street. With every step your brain will exult. The key isn’t coffee… it’s oxygen. Move bristly and infuse it where it must go for maximum good.

4) Give yourself an easy, immediate success.

Don’t feel like doing anything? Then give yourself an easy, immediate success. This should, of course, have been indicated on your “to do” list. Before you go to bed be sure to post on your list an easy thing, a thing that will start today’s sequence of successes. Once begun, as we say in New England, is half done.

What could this “easy” thing be?

It could be calling a long-time customer to get a nice re-order or following up with a new customer to whom you’ve already sent a proposal and quote.

One success engenders another. Even a small success is sufficient. Start successful, remain successful. It all begins when you least feel like it.

5) Put on your head phones and engage with some stirring music.

Still need help getting into gear? Go to the play list on your computer and choose something rousing. What? You don’t have such a play list? Start it today. I can assure you, you are going to need it. Here are some of my sure-fire upbeat selections, guaranteed to get you going:

Wake up Little Suzie by the Everly Brothers (most appropriate, don’t you think?)

Think by Aretha Franklin.

Natalie Cole’s version of Pink Cadillac, and

J.P. Rameau’s always motivating Tambourins I-II from Dardanus.

Your list may well be different from mine; the important thing is to have a list you can access at once. Turn up the sound… and move your body. Your uplifting selections are moving you towards another successful day.

6) Visualize what you’ll get when you turn this day into a success.

All too often we work without conceptualizing why. We work today because we worked yesterday. This is not nearly good enough.

Remind yourself just why you’re working and what special thing today’s successes will help create.

In my case, for instance, I have a pile of auction catalogs stacked high next to my computer. I motivate myself on days when such motivation is needed by looking at the things I want from auctions coming up quickly. Getting myself focused and together is a precondition for maximum acquisition. Visualize success; then do what’s necessary to achieve it.

7) Still not alert and moving? Then take the day off formally and properly.

Like most people these days, you are working more and longer than either your parents or grand parents. We are the most leisure-challenged generation ever.

The plain fact is, you may be unable to get up and resolutely face the day because you’re just worn out. If so, take the day off… sleep in, sleep properly, sleep, relax and goof off without guilt. You’ll be the better tomorrow if you take what is necessary and do not regard it as an indulgence but physical need. Enjoy!

Howard Martell is the Owner of http://HomeProfitCoach.com/silver . Check us out anytime for marketing tips and a free subscription to our cutting edge newsletter.

 

Did he or didn’t he? Thoughts on whether Jesus married or not.

by  Dr. Jeffrey Lant

Author’s program note. I am writing today where I write every day; from my eyrie hard-by the Cambridge, Massachusetts Common, across the street from Harvard University, my alma mater whose motto — “Veritas” (“Truth”) — is everywhere apparent.

It is important, particularly for this article, that you understand something of the history of this venerable place, the city of Cambridge itself, its designated mission, what the Puritans aimed for, and whether they achieved it.

The first settlers to Massachusetts (arriving November 11, 1620) underwent the greatest possible travail and difficulty. They endured their acute miseries, even welcomed them, because they insisted upon their view of God and their direct and personal relationship with Him.

In their new land, there would be no bishops, no cardinals, no fathers Holy or otherwise … just a man, his Bible, his vision of God, and no overweening, dictating authority. On this basis they divided their new home into two parts; Boston was designated the administrative, governmental and commercial headquarters. Cambridge (then called Newe Towne, until 1638) was designated the theological center, including schools; most importantly the most celebrated educational establishment ever created, Harvard.

From its very first moment, it was clear that Cambridge and Rome would be the axes of two fundamentally different views of God and how men should regard, worship, and honor Him. Each side spoke well of the other when necessary, but each regarded the other as capable of any outrage. How could it be otherwise when one claimed infallibility and the other believed no man and therefore no human institution was infallible, a state reserved for God Himself.

From time to time the tensions, always latent, flared. My brilliant classmate Professor John Boswell (1947-1994), though a zealous convert to Roman Catholicism, was one who rocked the boat in one seminal study after another on the Church, its long, early acceptance of openly gay priests and same s** marriage.

Discerning people knew at once with the publication in 1980 of “Christianity, Social Tolerance and Homosexuality” that here was a clear, new, lucid, learned voice on some of Rome’s greatest problems. His National Book Award in 1981 was just the first of a cascade of honors. His tragic death from complications of AIDS was a huge setback for tolerance and a way out of Rome’s Gordian Knots. It was rumored then and after that the Roman Catholic Curia breathed a sigh of relief at his death, sotto voce claiming it was God’s will. So the Vatican acknowledged Boswell’s importance and the Veritas that was always his objective.

Now Harvard offers Rome Professor Karen L. King and the now celebrated text suggesting that Jesus was married… his wife being (a) Mary but as yet unclear which one; (there are three mentioned in the Bible). Even the possibility that the Son of God was married has generated a tsunami of controversy, learned (and not so learned) commentary, and knee-jerk reactions of every kind.

Now it is time for me to weigh in, on the principle that fools rush in where angels fear to tread, a phrase written by English poet Alexander Pope in 1709. It became the title of a well-known 1940 song, lyrics by Johnny Mercer, music by Rube Bloom. Bing Crosby, himself a fervent Roman Catholic, added it to his string of hits. You’ll find it in any search engine. I like the sultry version by Mildred Bailey.

Recognized scholars confirm the document is genuine.

The two essential questions: is the document authentic? And is what it reports about Jesus and his wife accurate, thereby proving the case for what would then be the most important marriage in all history?

As for the authenticity of this inelegant document, smaller than a business card, written in a coarse hand with a pen well worn and past its prime, one recognized scholar after another has been sought out by Professor King. Tellingly each and every authority who has seen and scrutinized the actual document has endorsed its authenticity; as the actual thing it purports to be. Exhaustive testing and analysis by the world’s leading experts have failed to produce a single dubious element, feature, or aspect. In short, there is not a single “red flag” to be had, although there are still plenty of doubters.

Professor King, historian of the early Christian church, did her work well, and shrewdly. By her outreach to her peers, she kept her worldwide colleagues in the loop, giving them no grounds for criticism. She shared what she had…. and in the process covered herself, too, in case later analysis yielded doubts not present now. Should such a day ever dawn, Professor King would not be the only one with egg on her face. It would be generously shared with every poobah in the field.

Is the text accurate?

Thus King cleverly dispensed with the lesser query, getting comfortable shared responsibility while ensuring her name would be forever linked to this epochal matter. Now she must go to a far more difficult and controversial place, for the truly essential question is: “Is the message history, true, or merely tittle-tattle in the Coptic language?” And here, to date, there is not only no agreement in general, but little desire to stray beyond the verities of papyrus and pen. And so it’s time for this fool to rush in…

Fate? Accident of history? Conspiracy?

Why is there so much hubbub in the world, both amongst theologians and historians and people on the street concerned about their immortal souls and the Good News that is Jesus, regarding this text specifically and the subject generally? It is because for hundreds of years all manner of people have speculated on the man called Jesus and every aspect of his world-altering career.

Every aspect of his known life matters to us, and so both believers and non-believers alike have made it a point to study and master “The Greatest Story Ever Told”… a story that rivets our attention not least because it so closely touches the matter of our souls and our eternal place in the firmament.

Thus in studying the story of Jesus, we study, too, what may happen to us, individually and species. And because the matter is so significant, we must approach each new development as the greatest of lawyers would have done… with minute scrutiny, wariness, doubt and dubitation; the matter is too significant for us all to warrant any other approach.

Advocates for Jesus’ marriage must ask and answer such piercing questions as these:

1) Is it likely that such a crucial event as his marriage would be found and solely communicated to us in just one document, and that unclearly written in an ungrammatical and uneducated hand?

2) Is it likely that the marriage of Our Saviour would be treated as silently and unheralded as to appear in but one text?

3) Why are the Prophets predicting the advent of Jesus universally quiet on the matter of the help-mate who would partly share his life and lighten his excruciating load?

4) Given the fact that such a spouse presumably out lived Jesus, why is there no document proved and incontrovertible that mentions her in any of the stringent activities and customs of her Jewish widowhood?

5) Why is there no document, authenticated or not, that mentions seeing, visiting, embracing or listening to this spouse, even being given by her any of Jesus’ effects, each of which would have immediately become the holiest of artifacts?

6) And what of the Pharisees and of the Romans? They had each been apprehensive of Jesus when alive and so might well have monitored his widow and any cult of her husband, which she might well have been expected to bolster and grow.

Why is none of this and the thousand related queries not mentioned in the texts and documents which constitute the Bible and related texts? A good sleuth must be forced to conclude they are not there because there was no wife, no help-mate, no spouse, thereby proving yet again how much the Son of Man forfeited for us. And yet….

Where the definitive answer probably resides and three dates.

There has been, so far, a huge h*** in the debate, and I suspect that within this h*** is the solution to the married Jesus conundrum. This h*** is the most lavish, ostentatious, and palatial library ever created, suitable for the men on whom God built his Church. This place is the Vatican Library and it is here, amongst its 75,000 codices and over 1.1 million printed works, that the likely answer is to be found. Yet neither Karen King nor any of the many publications and media sources following this story have even mentioned this absolutely vital resource and its importance for elucidating the matter at hand.

Did Professor King seek to get access to either the general collection or the all-important Secret Archives? If so, why has she not said so, reporting what she may have seen or was not allowed to see? Or did she fail to ask for admission, thereby leaving an enormous gap in her research? For make no mistake about it: the most likely place to find what will solve the matter is amidst the documents of those who have the greatest vested interest. All roads lead to Rome as they have from the days of the Caesars, and to the Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana.

476, 1202,1475.

Three dates are significant to the work of any Biblical scholar, theologian or historian in hot pursuit of Veritas. 476 is when the Roman empire of the West finally fell. Thereafter the greatest library of the world and repository of Church documents was to be found not in Rome but in the Eastern empire, in Byzantium — until April 13, 1204 when during the Fourth Crusade the Christian crusaders sacked the greatest of Christian cities, dispersing its riches, including the riches of its great library; carrying back to Rome masses of crucial Church history. From this emerged in 1475 the library of the Holy See. And it is likely there, Professor King, you will find the answer to the matter at hand, an answer one way or the other, for as Mildred Bailey at her loveliest sang, “Though I see the danger there/ If there’s a chance for me /Then I don’t care.”

For a free marketing consultation contact  Howard Martell  call or 757-6472996  or skype me at homeprofitcoach

About the Author

Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant  of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Services include home business training, affiliate marketing training, earn-at-home programs, traffic tools, advertising, webcasting, hosting, design, WordPress Blogs and more. Find out why Worldprofit is considered the # 1 online Home Business Training program by getting a free Associate Membership today. Republished with author’s permission by Howard Martell http://homeprofitcoach.com/associates

 

Thoughts On Colonoscopy, Homage To One Of The Greatest Researchers, Marie Curie, And The Colossal Mistake The US Federal Government Is Making In Re

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant.

Author’s program note. It is 5:27 a.m. here in Cambridge, where the invention of the future via research is our product, our pride, our unmitigated purpose… a place of assiduous effort, often lonely, frequently inconclusive, a place where the glory lies not just in achieving a goal but in knowing this achievement will be overtaken by others who will thereby advance truth and progress by using the fruit of every prior effort and exertion, just as those following them will advance beyond everything and everyone which came before, no matter how celebrated or useful in its time.

“If I have seen farther,” Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727) famously said, “it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants.” In that single phrase lies the reason why Cambridge and all its myriad educational institutions exists and why we must assist and not diminish them, for their work is vital, necessary, where the collective brain power and untiring effort move us appreciably, minute by minute, to the perfection which should always be our chief human objective and unceasing mission.

Research, improved procedures, improved outcomes, the gift of health, even the gift of life itself.

I am about to undergo a medical procedure called colonoscopy. It is the third time in the last 13 years that my colon has been scrutinized, first by sigmoidoscopy, which is a partial procedure done while the patient is fully conscious, thereby able to see the entire matter first hand; twice by a complete colonoscopy, ten years ago for the first; the second taking place at 7 a.m. tomorrow, just 24 hours from now.

I am therefore at work preparing for this procedure, each aspect the result of teams of physicians and medical researchers who have, bit by bit, improved what is done and the medical skills and tools necessary to achieve the desired result: quality and longevity of the most important thing we each have — life itself.

Since this life is so important, the very basis for our existence on Earth, we must encourage, exhort, sustain and venerate those who advance it, in both length and utility, and we must oppose, adamantly, vigorously, energetically, unfailingly, anyone in any situation who does anything to diminish and destroy it. As the great humanitarian Albert Schweitzer (1875-1965) said, “Ehrfurcht vor dem leben”, (“Reverence for life”) must be at the heart of who we are and our every endeavor, particularly of the researches we undertake.

Homage to Madame Curie, (1867-1934), “haunted by dreams, invincibly eager”.

This poetic description of Marie Skodowska-Curie comes from the 1943 MGM film starring Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon (as her husband Pierre), a film whose world-famous subjects ensured world-wide interest and acclaim. Consider the date of the film. Madame Curie’s native country, the homeland she loved with all the high ardor and profound devotion found in every Pole, was seething under Hitler’s savage rule, his intent nothing less than erasing her land and every person therein.

Her adopted nation, la belle France, writhed under the Nazis, too; abashed, humiliated, mortified by events, mortified more by the collaborators who stained the glory of France with treachery and abiding ignominy.

In such a situation, the powers at MGM, many themselves emigrants from Europe, lucky to be alive, decided to throw down the gauntlet, to tell a tale that would rekindle hope, pride, and purpose in those dark days when the future was anything but halcyon and joyful.

And so Greer Garson, who had transfixed the world with her characterization of Mrs. Miniver (1942), a lady whose innate decency, courage, and grace reminded us what we could do, might have to do in this world at war to inch towards victory and humanity, was tapped to bring Marie Curie, titanic, brilliant, heroic, enduring, tenacious to life. The Nazis had nothing like this, either in film, or more importantly in fact.

The film, of course, awards galore, did what it was supposed to do, not least enthusing multitudes of young people, including a record number of young women, to enter the hard sciences of chemistry, physics, mathematics and all the others once reckoned the sole prerogative of men. Indeed, it is not too much to say that Marie Curie was the godmother of generations of women scientists who thrilled to her message, her serious intent, and the good work she did, the discoveries she made, the lives she changed for the better, without giving up her femininity, spouse, or family. It was an electrifying message for millions. It remains supremely relevant today and is still by no means universally accepted.

The music.

It is now time to introduce you to the music for this article, the most apt sound imaginable: the score to “Madame Currie”. Composed by master Herbert Stothart, probably best known for writing “The Wizard of Oz” in 1939, the music that edged out “Tara’s Theme” in “Gone with the Wind”, arguably the best known movie theme ever written, for the Oscar. He had his work cut out for him for he needed a sound that was as beautiful as the science Madame Curie venerated and served, a pristine acolyte at the forge of truth and knowledge. Go to any search engine now and let the soaring sound by a composer of renown lift you… just as science and unending research lift our species… if we will but let them. Sadly, alarmingly these are now very much at risk. The little men and women of the Capitol are seeing to that, to the general desuetude and disillusion.

The fatal axe called “sequestration”, the despair of scientists and researchers, their important work for the Great Republic and every citizen at risk; the risk that comes when the scientific progress we all have the right to expect is curtailed by our own failure to act and so nurture and sustain it.

It is well known that the federal government needs $1 trillion in budget cuts. What is far less well known is the devastation, the destruction, the ruination this will cause the scientific and research communities. Listen then to Dr. Francis Collins, director of the National Institutes of Health, who called 2013 the “darkest ever” year for the agency, whose budget is at its lowest inflation-adjusted appropriations level in more than a decade with all that means for scientists laid off, scientists (including the vital supply of young researchers) not hired, bold projects unstarted, bold projects left undone, the nation at terrible risk.

Here are remarks by Steven Salzberg, the director of the Center for Computational Biology at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, a well respected biomedical researcher. “Less science is getting done,” he said. “That means cures won’t emerge. Five years from now, when your aunt gets cancer and you can’t do anything for her, people won’t stop and think, ‘Jesus, if we only hadn’t had the sequester!'” Does this make any sense at all, or are we so far gone as a nation that we simply cannot be bothered to save the science and research which have the potential to save us all? Que sera sera, whatever will be, will be?

Colyte, all through the night.

While the politicians diddle, dawdle and duck the tough decisions, their irresolution, cowardice and indecision thereby clouding our collective future, life goes on, not perhaps as good as it could be, but definitely better than it will be, if the sciences and their researchers are so dismissed, devalued, disdained. And so I follow the procedural guidelines to the very letter, afraid that any departure will obscure the result, perhaps resulting in the tragedy I most wish to avoid.

The Day Of Your Test.

4-6 hours before your arrival time.

1) Drink one 8-ounce glass of Colyte every 10-15 minutes until the remaining half of the Colyte is gone. You may have to get up in the night to take this dose. You need to do this for a good preparation.

2) Immediately after drink 2 to 3 8 ounce glasses of Gatorade (preferred) or any clear liquid.

3) Continue to drink clear liquids until 3 hours before your scheduled arrive time. Do not eat any solid food.

4) Do not drink anything, including water, for 3 hours before your arrival time.

And then it was time to leave, on a voyage discovering myself, hopeful but understandably nervous notwithstanding. I must have looked pale and wan for when I got out of the car, my driver Aime Joseph hugged me and said “Courage, mon ami,” something he had never done before.

Then, promptly, efficiently, professionally my Endoscopy Center team went to work. Receptionist Louise, perky and soothing at 6:30 a.m. Followed by Jack, the first nurse, friendly, focused, a man of ease putting me at mine. Then nurses Kathryn and Pat, smiling, reassuring, glad they said to have a patient as well prepared as I was, thereby assuring my regard and gratitude; finally, Dr. Lopes, brisk, amicable, explaining all as we went, master of his craft and of practiced patient care; the physician who gave me the news, all good, no cancer, no growth, no troubling polyps, good to go for another decade and a day. That’s good for me, of course, but with the sequester and further cuts, will you get care as good, thorough, and prompt? It matters.

Colorectal cancer is the third most commonly diagnosed cancer in the world, but it is more common in developed countries. It is estimated that worldwide in 2008, 1.23 million new cases were clinically diagnosed and that it killed at least 608,000 people. Do what’s necessary to make sure you aren’t one of them.

Envoi.

If you are a reader 50 and above, call your physician today and schedule your colonoscopy and while you’re at it, give this article to a friend. It’s an act of love.

Howard Martell is the Owner of http://HomeProfitCoach.com/silver . Check us out anytime for marketing tips and a free subscription to our cutting edge newsletter.

 

Health Tips For You Far Away Vacation

Vacations are typically times of great fun and entertainment, times where we ignore the problems of our daily lives and just enjoy ourselves. But there always lurks the possibility for something to go wrong and rain on your whole parade. Health problems and injuries are some of the most common problems vacationers face. When you are out running around and having fun, the likelihood of getting hurt increases significantly. You do not want to have to deal with these problems when far away from home on your vacation. Since these sort of things can happen anywhere, it is best you try to prepare for them as best as possible by using these Health tips for you far away vacation.

1: Memorize the emergency numbers for your area. Depending on where you travel, the numbers for police or medical care may be different then what you are use to. Make sure you verify this and memorize what those numbers are in case you run into trouble. You should also make sure you always have a cellphone handy and make sure you have reception where you are at. This is most important for those vacationing away from civilization, such as camping trips.

2: Make sure to get a checkup and get all your vaccinations before going on a trip, especially one out of the country. These are probably the best Health tips for you far away vacation. There are some nasty bugs out there that your body is not used to facing, and these can make you really sick. So you want to make sure you are prepared for this by getting those vaccine shots.

3: Get travelers insurance that covers medical expenses in foreign countries as well. The last thing you want is a trip to the hospital, especially when you are the one footing the bill. Nothing says ruined vacation like spending all your money on a stay in the hospital. So check into the various traveling insurance plans and make sure to get one that will cover any medical expenses you might run into. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

4: If you are traveling somewhere secluded, again, like a camping trip, make sure to bring a first aid kit. This is not sorted important if you say, going to the beach, but it still can not hurt. But if you are far away from medical attention, you do not want to be left without. So make sure you bring a medkit that has all the essentials you will need. Bandaids, disinfectant and anything else you feel you might need should all be a part of your medical kit. Vacations are a lot of fun and a great way to refresh yourself, but having unexpected medical emergencies crop up can ruin the whole trip for you. By utilizing the tips above you can help mitigate, or even prevent this from happening. There are a lot of things you need to prepare for when planning a trip, and medical care should be at the top of that list.

Howard Martell is the Owner of http://HomeProfitCoach.com/silver . Check us out anytime for marketing tips and a free subscription to our cutting edge newsletter.