Today, my thoughts turn to birthdays. Dad is 77 today, living through the Vietnam War, the Challenger Explosion, and the fall of the Berlin Wall. I don’t know about you, but birthdays are a big deal. Being forgotten about on a milestone birthday, like 16 or 21? That’s not something you forget. Nor is it something you get a do-over for. You only turn <insert year here> one time. Gen-Xers feel Sam’s pain in Sixteen Candles when her own parents forget her sweet 16 because of her older sister’s wedding.

Speaking of birthdays.

Last night, I attended Alpha, a church event. It was a celebration of completing the weeks-long class, celebrating where people were today versus where they were when they started ten weeks ago. At Alpha there is a free meal (yes, free food!), a teaching, and then a breakout meeting with the people at your table. Our group had nine people in attendance. To say we got close in ten weeks would understate what happened. But the meal, that’s what stuck with me and reminded me of my own birthday.

Families typically know what you like; in my case, it’s cake. I love cake! But I have a particular fondness for German Chocolate cake. My family knows this, and most years do their best to make sure I have one. Even my fiance went out of her way in 2025 to bake a homemade German Chocolate cake, complete with homemade frosting. It was absolutely THE BEST CAKE I’ve had in YEARS! (You can tell Alissa that! That’s her cake in the first picture, above!)

Fifteen years ago, I was working at Pure Country C-106. As a broadcasting specialist, my job was to sell advertising air time to local businesses within our station’s reach. I worked on commission with a base minimum, meaning I would still get paid if I didn’t hit my targets. I had this job for almost a year, thanks to a former colleague from AT&T who knew the owner of the radio station.

In less than three months of being there, the station hired a new sales manager and three new broadcasting specialists. I don’t think anyone, except our sales manager, was all that good at selling the station, even though the station’s reach penetrated farther than the strongest two FM stations in our small town. But if there was one thing our new sales manager was good at was hospitality.

Hospitality in sales? Oh yeah. Business owners don’t have time for gimmicks or magic tricks. Believe me. As the oldest son of a business owner, I learned the value of cash flow and how wasted time costs more money than a bad buying decision.

Lysa knew how to butter up business owners, and it wasn’t with a lot of smooth talk or coy questions to buy. It was through baked goodies that she took to all her scheduled appointments. Two things happened: one, they remembered her; two, they bought what she offered because she was kind, understanding, and tenacious about coming back over and over and over again!

Her treats were the envy of all of us at the radio station. If she made some kind of goody? We all wanted to try it, to eat some, and to give Lysa mad props about how wonderful it tasted! She never made a bad treat. Ever!

When my birthday came up in January, she asked me what kind of cake I wanted. (See where this is going?) I said German Chocolate cake. She smiled, telling me it was too easy, but I would have a cake on Friday.

And, true to her word, she did the cake.

It was a German Chocolate cake.

But something was missing. . .

Namely, one-quarter of the cake, a massive piece!

“Oh, Joe. I am so sorry! My husband ate some of it.” She showed me the cake. To say I was floored would be an understatement.

Not that it mattered to me. It was German Chocolate cake.

And it was delicious!

Thanks, Lysa.