Author: Cami Beiter

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The Dusty, Yet Coveted Disclosure – Cami Gaglioti

We tend to live in our own psyche. We’re our worst enemy when it comes to the expectations, the doubt, the truth, the inadequacy. It just sucks. So what do we do? We keep things in order, keep busy, calm the lecturing voice in our head. Why is it when something lays heavy on the heart, we’re less apt to disclose to those closest to us? Read more...
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Artie T & The People Who Love Him

There’s nothing better than a Feel Good Underdog/Good vs. Evil story this Labor Day holiday to put faith (and appreciation) back into the workplace.

Since when does a high power CEO really care for the people responsible for the foundation of their pyramid? An individual who looks at its employees as people and not as unnamed, replaceable objects? Because of Market Basket’s CEO Artie T. Demoulas’s compassion for others, history was made.

Arthur (Artie T.) T. Demoulas is the CEO of the family owned/operated New England based, Market Basket grocery store chain. According to the LA Times: “Artie T was fired in June by his cousin, Arthur S. Demoulas after he gained control of the board. Members of the board had accused Artie T. of ignoring them; he said they were greedy and wanted a big share of profits he said should go to employees. The two sides of the family have warred for years in and out of court; at one point there was even a fist fight between cousins.”

Artie T. is the type of corporate leader who spends much of his time dealing with the day to day operations. He can be seen behind the counters, in the deli, in the warehouse. He knows many of his employees names, Read more...

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Poop Drops

 
I love walking my old, two-pooper lab.  Carrying it around for those long walks really stink.  How about a place to dump it?  
If you live in a small New England town, with a sleepy Main Street lined with old houses and tree-lined sidewalks on both sides, you’re lucky enough to enjoy the simple luxury of accessibility. People from all over town, and even outside the downtown area, bring friends to stroll up and down these beautiful tree-lined paths. These friends may have two legs or four as main streets are perfectly suited for dog-walking.
I have a Black Lab, Tuff. He’s a two-poop walker. It’s a proper form of etiquette to pick up after your pet. Yet, the humorously awkward portion of the walk, is having to carry Tuff’s dangling load for the remainder of the walk. I often witness others in the same predicament. I particularly find the most enjoyment watching the masculine types, walking tiny lap dogs...poop bag tied to the leash. That’s love! Yes, it is embarrassing, and not particularly hygiene free...especially if the four legged companion has experienced digestive issues. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had random poop drops or trash receptacles up Read more...

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The Power of the Page

 

I’m not embarrassed.  I’ll be the first to admit it... I’ll take a year to finish a sleepy novel.  Granted, I usually have three to four books rotating on a regular basis, dog-eared-pages waiting in turn. I’ve always felt the need to be “reading something.”  
Yet, on occasion, we come across a book that grabs us, handicaps us, makes us sit in the uncomfortable chair in the kitchen.  The kind of book where the dishes collect in the sink. Lunch is forgotten.  We stay in our stretchy pajamas, ignore our hair and don’t make the trip upstairs to brush our teeth.  The flower beds we plan to weed, remain overgrown.  The porch still needs to be swept, errands still need to be run.
The kind of book that when neighbors pop over and gaze at our hobo-style appearance we say: “Yeah...I look like hell, but I’m reading a great book...can’t put it down.”  
What’s wonderful about confessing to such indulgence is the understanding and appreciative nod as well as a sparked interest into what material would have such an affect as to forget to shower.  
“Must be good...what book?” they inquire.
And although it doesn’t happen very often, reading something Read more...

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Closing the Door On The Closet 

By Cami Beiter ~~~~ What was that scrambled mess-of-a-quote George W. made some 12 years ago?  “Fool me once, shame on...shame on you.  Fool me...you can’t get fooled again.”  After the fourth time, you think I’d learn...or put my foot down. With each experience of selling my daughter’s gently used clothing to Plato’s Closet, (her wallet) and expectations were always short changed.  But like a love sick teenage girl, I kept thinking, maybe the next time will be better.
According to their website, Plato’s Closet buys and sells the latest looks in brand name gently used clothing accessories for teen and twenty-something guys and girls. Re-selling clothing has become a hot trend. You need to be choosy in what you present to a consignment or resale shop. 
For us, this is a familiar routine.  Peyton would clean out her closet of shorts, jeans, shirts, sweatshirts, shoes, boots and scarves...All items that either no longer fit or didn’t tickle her fancy.  She’d separate, wash, dry and fold the items, placing them in bags or large plastic bins.  When our schedules were free, and the planets were aligned just right, we’d venture off to Plato’s Closet.  
I could Read more...

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Teaching Kids That Sacrifice Is The Real Meaning of Memorial Day

 
By Cami Beiter ~~~~~ As I sit thinking about Memorial Day and its meaning, I continue to think about it’s perception on the younger generation.  If we don’t emphasize and stress the importance of the sacrifices our service members have made (or making), how will they come to appreciate the luxury of their freedom?
Reminding them to thank a soldier or thinking about grandpa and his war time duty, isn’t enough.  To them, it’s like telling them to clean their room.  If they aren’t truly vested with a clear understanding, they won’t appreciate the message. 
What they need to understand is sacrifice, something we typically think nothing of on any given day. But talk to a veteran or a family affected by war and you will find a story.
During WWII, my grandfather was a U.S. Army Paratrooper serving in Europe and member of the Office Of Strategic Services (O.S.S).  For nearly four years, he had virtually no written communication with my grandmother.  She would frequently receive a typed letter from a war office in Washington D.C., saying he was alive but whereabouts classified.
My father missed my brother’s first birthday while on his first tour in Vietnam.  Read more...

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