I can still vividly see what my fleet of planes looked like.
I wasn’t sure how many there were. I wasn’t even certain what we would use them for. I just knew the company would be so large that it would require a fleet of planes. At least six or eight of them. Not small planes. Huge airliner size. The design was simple but bold. Each plane was a solid color, but each was a different color, bold enough to stand out anywhere.
And each one had the company name on the side. In monstrously huge letters. In a powerful typeface — such as Futura extra bold or Folio extra bold — it just had my name. The company name. It just said, “McElroy.”
Confession is good for the soul, but it’s miserable for the ego. I need to confess these old desires for ego satisfaction, because if I’m not careful, they could return.
And I don’t need that kind of toxic ego in my life anymore. It nearly destroyed me.

FDA’s war on margarine is really an attack on your freedom of choice
We frequently go back to the past hoping to find a different future
Each experience of beauty and love stands alone, different from the rest
Lesson from U2: Rejection doesn’t necessarily mean it’s time to give up
Nature struggles to keep alive
The child in me never learned to feel at home as part of a group
Media bias: ‘They can state the facts while telling a lie’
What kind of person are you if there’s not a word to define you?
We all live with a death sentence, but we act as if we’ll live forever