Tag Archives: ALS

Do you

You know.  Do your thing.  Whatever makes you happy.

Princess Di helped the less fortunate.  It made her happy.

John Lennon wrote music for his fans.  It made him happy.

Mike Winston publicly fought ALS, inspiring thousands.  It made him happy.

Simply choosing to “do you” should make you happy.  But if “doing you” is actually “doing for others”, you get more than just happy.

You get to live forever.

When asking for a favor

You have two choices:

  1. You owe me.  For example, I could say “I’ve written for you daily for the last three months.  Since you’ve read and enjoyed (at least a couple), you owe me.”  Does that make you want to do me a favor by donating to ALS-TDI?
  2. I will owe you.  For example, I could say, “If you do me the favor by donating to ALS-TDI, I will owe you a matching donation.”  Does that make you want to do me a favor by donating to ALS-TDI?

The latter should.  And I will.

Donate today and I will match your donation 100%.

Today only.

Now you can’t say “What have you done for me lately?”  Even though I did just teach you how to ask for a favor.

Donate today for 100% match by me.



I actually need to put a limit on this match offer because my girlfriend has a big network of donors.  Let’s say $500 aggregate match, matching donations as they come in. If you donate after the $500 aggregate match, I will owe you.


I didn’t listen much in religious school

But there was one story that stuck.  And it has nothing to do with religion.

A small town of 1,000 had a well.  This well was their only source of water.  It would provide water forever if, and only if, 1,000 people stopped by daily to take some water.  If less than 1,000 people took water, the well would dry up forever.

Since there were 1,000 people in the town, everyone knew their job: Go to the well every day and take some water.  Otherwise, the well would dry-up forever.

One day, a family of 20 moved to the small town.  It was big news.  And everyone thought the same thing.  “Maybe I can take a day off from stopping by the well?  My absence won’t dry the well because we have enough people now.”

What happened?  Everyone took the day off, and the well dried-up forever.

In the real world this happens, too.  At elections, people say, “My vote doesn’t count.”  In business, people say, “We can’t possibly destroy in the ozone layer.”  And, in fundraising, it’s there, too, “Someone else will donate.”

Let that sink in for a sec.

Ready?  Ok.

Today, there’s a serial killer out there.  The ALS Killer.  We need to stop him.  And everyone needs to do their part.  When one person says, “My donation doesn’t matter,” we all face the consequences.

Join Team Dexter.


Needing Dexter

There’s a serial killer out there.  He’s like someone Dexter would hunt.

First, he stalks his prey and punches them in the arm.  He does it nightly.

Then, he goes for the back and legs.  It’s just one giant punch, so he never gets caught.

Finally, he kidnaps his weakened victim.  The victim is placed in a dark cell, alone, and faces the same nightly assault.  The serial killer’s trade mark?  He’s compassionate, in a way.  His victim gets an HDTV with surround sound.  The channels are of his friends and family speaking directly to him.  He can see them and hear them.  Loud and clear.  What’s more, his family and friends can see him through a surveillance camera (no sound).

The nightly assault continues for about five years.  Sometimes more, sometimes less.

That’s some crazy Dexter shit, huh?  Well, the serial killer calls himself ALS.

The chance you’re next is quite small.  But, are you comfortable roaming the streets knowing he’s out there?

I’m not.  And neither is Mike Winston.


Lance, Lou and CVS

These days, when you check out at CVS, there’s an extra step.  “Would you like to make a donation to ALS?”  You can choose $1, $5 or “No, thanks.  Not today”.

Unfortunately, CVS’s checkout screen doesn’t show you much.  There’s no video like this one about Mike Winston and Winning for Winston.  Or this one about Steve Gleason from the NFL.  Or an excerpt from Susan Spencer-Wendel’s book.  When you’re asked for a donation to ALS, it’s just small text and a blurry ALS logo.

Everyone knows someone who died from cancer.  So, there’s a connection.  With ALS, Lou Gehrig might be all they know.

Are you willing to feel connected to Mike?  Or Steve?  Or Susan?

Please don’t say, “No, thanks.  Not today.”