Author: Jon Gauger

Crawling across the plywood of our attic, I spied the tan plastic bag and knew exactly what was inside: Daytimers. Before there was Google Calendar and Evernote… Before there were Palm Pilots… Back when Windows referred to the glass in your living room—not an operating system—we needed a way to keep track of our schedules. Many of us in the business world used Daytimers—a spiral bound pocket book with calendars and appointment pages.  And in that tan plastic bag up in my attic were several years’ worth of old Daytimers. You know what caught my eye as I flipped through…

I should have known the pleasant looking cowboy before me was an imposter.  But his gloves, hat and gun all looked legit.  He invited us to a sandpit where we could pan for gold (okay, it was actually pyrite—but it looked like the real deal). I have to confess, it was exhilarating swirling the shallow pan, exposing the yellow glow of gold—just like I'd seen in the movies.  We carefully dumped our gold into miniature cloth sacks, pausing now and then to see what kind of fortunes we'd amassed. I saw “we” because it was me, two young nieces of…

He's back at it again—my buddy Jack.  He's the one that's trying to build bridges with his neighbor across the street.  In a previous blog, I promised to keep you up to date. Here goes. All winter long, Jack has taken his snow blower over to his neighbor's driveway and blown it out.  In return his neighbor—we'll call him Steve—has blown out Jack's driveway.  But the best part is they've had opportunity to work on their driveways together.  Even shoveled side by side.   They wave at each other in their cars—and often chat when getting the mail. Jack and his…

Are you a drug addict? Don't answer too quickly. It's possible you've never smoked a joint in your life…never popped a pill the doctor didn't prescribe.  But you could still be addicted.  I'm not talking about heroin or cocaine or meth.  I'm talking about the drug of connectivity—the need to have access to your email or Facebook page. Recently, I was reminded of my own addiction. They did a major re-work of our email system at work on a Friday, and–BOOM–I was without remote access to email all weekend long. You wanna know the really sick thing?  I actually sat…

She was born in 1903 in what was then Austria-Hungary. Alice Herz-Sommer was raised in a German speaking Jewish family. Early on, she displayed enormous talent at the piano and at sixteen, she was the youngest student of the Prague German Conservatory of Music. She toured Europe, impressing thousands. Then came 1943 and the rise of Hitler. By now, Alice was married and had a young son. German soldiers ultimately hauled off Alice and her family. Not before she watched hopelessly as her neighbors ransacked her home, gleefully helping themselves to her clothes, art and furniture. Her husband was taken…

At 37 thousand feet, you see life–not just terrain–more clearly. I’m writing this piece shoehorned into an airplane whose rows are so tightly spaced the seats do not recline.  But it’s only a two and half hour flight to Denver, so I suspect we’ll survive. Minutes ago, why wife, Diana, observed that this budget airline offers a type of first class option: four seats across instead of six.  It was actually tempting. Now I don’t mean to offend those who choose to pony up for wider seats and meals served on china instead of plastic (someday I think I’ll try…

You could almost wipe the saliva off my mouth. That’s the intensity I felt walking into the International Center at the Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado. I was there to attend Jerry Jenkins’ Christian Writers Guild conference. Plot structure, point of view, character development—this was the stuff I was longing to dig into. And dig we did (ur…not sure that last sentence would garner the approval of my instructors). Anyway, we came to the last night of the conference where writer and Editor, Dr. Dennis Hensley spoke. Oddly enough (or, in retrospect, perhaps realistically enough) he spoke on failure. If you’re…

An unsettling notion has lately come over me with regard to marriage. Understand I am grateful for Diana, my wife of 30 years, and the person she is—and is becoming.  She is a guiding influence on most everything I touch—from the way I dress to the way I write…to the way I am learning to clean house.  Or sit on the couch and just talk. The unsettling notion I speak of has very little to do with her…but very much to do with me.   And quite possibly you. Why all the sober talk at Valentine's? It’ a growing hunch that…

What happened to the advertisements?  Do you ever wonder why certain products used to be seen advertised on television or in magazines and newspapers….and now they are like “product non grata”–like they don't even exist. When was the last time you saw a commercial for 7-Up?  Here's a national brand…but seems to have fallen off the map, promotionally.. What about Certs—the peppermint breath mints that give you two–(CLACK)–two (CLACK)–two mints in one!   And speaking of mints, where are the commercials for Tic Tacs? Now I'm sure there's some logical explanation for all this.  Some 24 year old with his MBA…

By now you’ve probably heard the outrageous quote. Last week, New York Governor Andrew Cuomo—very likely a 2016 presidential candidate–told Susan Arbetter of The Capitol Pressroom that “extreme conservatives who are right-to-life, pro-assault-weapon, anti-gay” have “no place in the state of New York.” In one remarkable sentence, all pro-life people and all those who support a biblical view of marriage were labeled “extreme.”  What’s more, these folks were essentially asked to leave the state. But this uncharitable blast is at odds with reality. Poll after national poll shows Americans are divided almost evenly over the issue of abortion.  So…does that…