Hey, it’s me, John. By the time you read this I will probably have already come out of my surgery. No big deal.

It’s been several weeks now since I returned from the eleventh annual Ernest Borgnine Memorial Music Appreciation Society weekend. I know. Odd.

September 1st, 2009 by John Lynch So, “Bo’s Café” is coming out September 25th! I was cruising around the Internet the other day, seeing if anyone had written anything…and I came across our first review! It’s from “The Review Broads.” I love that our first review was from such a title.

Well, the three amigos are back from the Land Down Under. One of our conferences was cancelled, Bill’s luggage handles were torn off in transit, I got food poisoning the evening before speaking four times in one day, and Bruce and I most assuredly made enemies throughout New Zealand as we drove on the wrong side of the road, inadvertently turning on our windshield wipers every time we wanted to indicate a lane change. …But what we asked God for happened in spades.

Hello everyone. So, today Bruce, Bill and I head off for Australia and New Zealand! It sounds romantic but most of the time we’ll actually be enjoying some of the continent’s finest conference halls and room partitions.

We did the memorial service for an old friend yesterday. Gordon Barr. Yea, most of you have never heard of him before.

I have donned the cape of Middle Aged Man for the last time. Last Sunday ended my run with the “Lesser Known Super Heroes”. I will no longer fight crime next to Poultry Man, Accordion Man andSopapilla Woman.

When I start thinking about what I’m thankful for, it all gets garbled with the normal things: God, family…oatmeal with peanut butter. The things I’ve been given, which I deeply appreciate. Today, I’m thinking about a few things that God, in His tender and kind grace, didn’t allow to happen, when by all means they should have: 1.

This morning on my run in the desert mountains I was asking myself, “What’s a diamond ring mean to the typical married woman?” Treasure beyond price. So, why did Lisa give hers away to start a prosthetics ministry for the maimed children of blood diamond country, Sierra Leone? And, this.

I was 15 when I purchased my first set of golf clubs. There they were, unceremoniously propped against the range ball machine at our neighborhood par-3 course; a bulky black bag containing a used set of 3 through 9 irons, several “Tommie Bolt” woods and a non-descript putter. A sign taped to it read “25 bucks”.