Adrift in the parkways of our minds?

Not far from where I write this is a very nice park, a true urban oasis: one of those elongated greenbelts that, together with the sweeping peripheral roads on either side, particularly lends itself to the description "parkway." For the past quarter-century, the park has been inhabited by a gentleman named Earl. It follows that this gentleman, now nearing 70, bears the whimsical/romantic label "Earl of the Parkway." Earl's exploits have been much-chronicled, such that he is today something of a folk hero, albeit a melancholic one, among those who live in areas adjacent to the park.

Strictly speaking, Earl doesn't have to live in the park. He has options. Many would thus say he chooses to live there. (Or, if we prefer not to use terminology that evokes issues of free will vs. determinism, we could posit simply and neutrally that Earl continues to live there, regardless of whether alternatives objectively exist.) You might say that based on that decision alone, Earl is, ipso facto, nuts. And if a man is nuts, then you can't expect him to avoid doing the things that nutty people do. Things like, say, live in parks. The reasoning is circular but apt.

Therefore, it would seem that it falls to those of us who aren't nuts to protect Earl from himself, if we possibly can. At least we must try. Many locals bring food, clothes, etc., to the monument that generally serves as Earl's home base.

By now you know where I'm going with this. There are millions of incipient Earls out there. By that, I don't just mean that there are millions of people on the verge of homelessness, though that is certainly true nowadays. I mean that there are millions of people, perhaps tens of millions, perhaps more, who are equally trapped by who and what they are.* They are all a little nuts, stumbling through life as best they can, hostage to their flaws and foibles, and standing far closer than they'd ever admit to the precipice of utter self-destruction.

Is it not up to the rest of us—those of us who, relatively speaking, "have our act together" and are better equipped for life—to try to protect all these lesser Earls from themselves?

If not, tell me why not.

These are the kinds of things I think when I read the angry, tea-stained letters about how "health care isn't a basic human right!" and how "I shouldn't have to pay my hard-earned money to support some jagoff who's too lazy to work!" I know these aren't easy issues, but I can't help thinking: If a man is lazy...well, the man is lazy. Just as the barroom brawler constantly sabotages himself by getting caught up in barroom brawls. Some people aren't very good at negotiating life. Whatever they can do, even if it is legitimately their best, isn't good enough. They may not exactly be square pegs, but their existence unfolds as an unending struggle to find compartments in which they fit neatly. In any case, they're not going to do a very good job of looking out for themselves or their families. Doesn't someone have to?

As I see it, the ambitious, hard-driving person can no more choose to be lazy than the lazy good-for-nothing can choose to be ambitious and hard-driving. Though at opposite poles in the spectrum, they are, like Earl, equally ruled by their essential natures. Can they be changed? Can the slacker be taught to be more diligent about life? Perhaps he can. But until he changes, he's not there yet.

A final point. My mother-in-law, who lives with us these days, is quite short, so she frequently needs my help to reach things. As we didn't pick our respective heights, she doesn't deserve criticism for being short; no more than I deserve praise for being 6-4. That doesn't change the bottom-line: I can reach things that she can't. So when she needs help, I help her.

Wouldn't it be cruel for me not to? S

* And again, if we appraise this through a strictly deterministic lens, that description—"trapped by who and what we are"—applies to each and every one of us.

JAR is at it again. He wants to transform my life. (Or maybe end it?)

The latest email from James Ray:

"Come join me on my new list and receive free video's, mp3's and other resources to transform your life.

"Before we begin sending you the information you requested, we want to be certain we have your permission."

The email then provides a link that takes you to material that could easily be interpreted as (at least) a soft sell for more James Ray magic.

Also, while bouncing around Ray's site, I came across some free inspirational ecards. The first of them bears the title "3 for 3." How odd and ironic that the phrase tallies precisely with the number of coffins that needed to be readied for the unfortunates who died in his sweat-lodge debacle, after being subjected to intense psychological pressure to stay the course. That's my read anyway, as explained at length in a previous post.

Clearly, in some tantalizing numerical sense, James Ray is indeed in harmony with a universe of his own making. S

NOTE: The coffins depicted are not the actual coffins from the Sedona tragedy, and should not be interpreted as such. These are difficult subjects to handle, and it is not my intent to cause additional pain to any of the bereaved family members.

A bit of wisdom from that well-known philosopher/guru, Jackie 'Socrates' Robinson.

A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.
—Jackie Robinson

THIS PAST WEEK, amid baseball's annual, self-congratulatory celebration of "Better Late Than Never" day, I must have heard that quote invoked (sometimes in slightly different form) during a dozen broadcasts. I suppose we could debate the precise intended meaning of the word important, but to me, regardless, it's another one of those "inspirational" totems that breaks down under scrutiny. After all, if my life is only important for the impact it has on you, and your life is only important for the impact you have on old Miriam there, and old Miriam's life is only important... See the problem? Doesn't anybody's life have an inherent value that makes it worth living for its own sake? And if not...what's the point of any life? Or even life itself?

I bring these things up not because I oppose goodness and philanthropy; regular readers know better than that. I bring these things up because I oppose pretentious, simple-minded gurudom: the kind of gurudom that sounds so sweet-natured and high-minded but reduces all of life's complexities to bumper stickers, and whose ultimate effect, whether intended or not, is to obliterate genuine critical thinking. In more mercenary settings (like, say, self-help seminars) the purpose of such sloganeering is to lull attendees into a narcotic state of overblown idealism and/or expectation where they're progressively more susceptible to the leader's spiel...where they come to believe that anything really is possible for them as long as they just keep buying what the guru's selling...where they're willing to brush logic aside while reaching for their checkbooks because, dammit, the whole thing just sounds so right....

Another example: I've heard Dr. Laura moralize about how a parent's primary job on earth is to raise his or her children. This implies that the children's job is to grow up and become parents so that they can then raise their kids. And on and on it goes.*

Platitudes of this stripe remind me of a game of musical chairs that never ends. The Robinson quote in particular is a bit like saying that the only point to being in possession of a delicious, juicy hamburger is to give it to someone else. This means that the someone else must also give it to someone else. Doesn't anybody actually get to eat the freakin' burger before it gets cold?

I'd have no problem here if the quotes said something like, "Try to have a positive impact on others along the way" or "Don't think only of yourself; spread the wealth." But see, quotes like that don't resonate. They lack the power, the philosophical sweep, to find and inspire a large audience. We want to admire, to follow, people who say (seemingly) transcendent things. So we have to puff up our quotes with extravagant, noble-sounding b.s. At which point those quotes cease to mean anything whatsoever.

This explains why, in the land of SHAM (and the myriad cultural institutions influenced by its ideas), the course teaches not how to be more successful, but how to become a multimillionaire; and the book talks not about how to search for a good mate, but how to get any woman you desire; and the speaker at the school assembly lectures kids not about how to put their priorities in order, but how they can all be president of the United States if they want! Blah, blah, blah...

Incidentally, apropos of scholastic assemblies and the like, try this cartoon strip. Priceless. S

* I have a feeling that somebody's going to nitpick me here and say, "Well, not all kids will grow up to become parents. So maybe she's only talking about the people who decide to have kids—that their primary job is to raise their kids." Well, so what? I still think my point applies.

A questionable legacy? Part 2.

Read Part 1.

True to its heritage, the Legacy regimens unfold as classic LGAT fare: limited eating and free time, not much sleep, lots of intense emotion dredged up in public (among mostly strangers), all of this taking place under the watchful eyes of Legacy leaders and other facilitators, who ensure that (1) the non-conformists and would-be heretics are kept reasonably in line and (2) the event itself stays on track.

The signature characteristic of LGATs is also present in spades: a recruitment outreach that, by all accounts, runs in perpetual hyperdrive. This element too unfolds in two stages. First comes the endeavor to get newbies fully involved in all levels of coursework—goading Basic trainees to re-up for more expensive Advanced coursework, at a total investment of well over $1000.

In Stage 2, the recruiting effort turns outward: Current attendees are transformed into prospecting dynamos.

"They build up the group dynamic in hopes that you won't want to let your group down," writes a Legacy critic posting under the name geek. "There are at least 5-8 hours of the workshop devoted solely to sales-pitching the program and getting you to get friends and family to sign up as soon as possible." Adds another: "They trade on trust relationships, using people's established feelings for those they trust as leverage to get them to sign on."

Hence, marriage counselors pitch their clients, bosses pitch their subordinates, friends pitch their friends. A Legacy recruiting campaign can become an incessant barrage of phone calls, texts and personal visits that don't let up until the target caves and agrees to attend one of the free "guest" events. (For an incisive bird's-eye critique of the canny psychological gamesmanship that underlies Legacy's initial sign-up effort—at least as seen through the eyes of one observer—read this. I was remiss in not including it in Part 1.)

Also, and to an unusual degree, Legacy clearly recognizes the profound, brain-eating power of romance. Husbands end up proselytizing their wives. "It almost broke up my marriage," writes Mrs. A, "until [my husband] agreed to stop pressuring me to attend a session." And girlfriends end up proselytizing their boyfriends, sometimes with great imagination, cunning and persistence. One such woman , Linda-Marie Hubert (who later changed her name to Linda-Marie Melton), is today something of a legend in LGAT recruitment circles; Melton/Hubert is said to have used Match.com as a gateway to seducing more than 20 men into the Legacy experience.

This explains why one of the various online critics of Legacy, who posts under the name Suzy, observes, "It's not so much a religious cult as a money cult. They turn these people into unpaid shills to draw in their friends, who in turn draw in more friends, and they walk away with $60,000 per week and and no employee payroll."*

Also like other LGATs, Legacy offers the usual disclaimers about the nature and intent of its programs.

"The trainings are not psychotherapy or counseling, nor are they intended to be a substitute for psychotherapy or counseling."

A few graphs later on the same page, in an evident attempt to reinforce this notion, the Center says it's "not for people who who think they are broken." Still, as we've seen, disclaiming responsibility for being "therapy" is meaningless if at the same time you're applying the "psychologically destabilizing techniques" to which the late Dr. Margaret Singer alluded in my blog on Landmark Forum.

"It's the same approach with every person, whether you were raped by your father or simply didn't get the ice cream flavor you wanted as a child," says a Legacy critic who posts as swanson.** "When you're in the program it all comes up, all the pain and anger and despair. And there isn't a single trained professional in the room to help you cope with this profound and unnaturally intense release of emotions." Cooper notes that during lunch breaks, "from across the court, I would hear someone scream and break into tears, freaking out and completely unable to process and deal with the mental and emotional scabs and scars that these Legacy jokers picked and scraped at until they started bleeding again, and none of us knew what to do." On occasion, Legacy has brought in freelancers with heavy-duty reps in the training subculture, to lead its Advanced coursework. Characterizations of one such trainer, Mickey McQuaid, are especially hard to take.

Given Legacy Center's natural interest in solidifying brand loyalty (and ensuring current members' unflagging devotion to the recruitment effort), it stands to reason that its trainers would cultivate a certain "us vs. them" paranoia. "Part of what makes the Legacy folk so effective is that they tell people that 'others won't understand,' " says a former attendee blogging as mountainhoon. Adds Suzy, "I had a very close friend join up with the Legacy crew. We'd known each other since we were five, and even after fifteen years of friendship, he wouldn't be friends with me anymore because I wouldn't join up." And there's this insightful tidbit from cooper: "The Legacy Center will have you believe that anyone in your circle of friends that doesn't buy into their bullshit is caught in something they call 'the drift.' "

This too echoes Lifespring, which became notorious for encouraging its trainees to associate exclusively with fellow Lifespringers. Among the more notable Lifespring alumni is Virginia Thomas, wife of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. According to a 1987 Washington Post Magazine article, Thomas "found herself moving away from family and friends" and ultimately "had to leave town to avoid constant phone calls" from other Lifespringers who "were taught it was their responsibility to make her keep her 'commitment.' "

This indoctrination helps illuminate the "creepiness factor" that, outsiders contend, surrounds some portion of Legacy graduates. Like the wife in my first long-ago horror story, they embrace a distinctive New Age argot—a house dialect—resulting in what some have called "Stepford sentences": robotic and stilted language, expressive of generic sentiments that are at times too bland and at times bespeak a positivity that seems altogether inappropriate to the situation and/or stimulus. (All of which, of course, only serves to further distances members from the un-Anointed.) "It's creepy," writes cooper. "People [at the Center] are asking each other, 'What are you creating in your life today, Bob?' I wanted to hear someone say, 'Well, George, in about 30 minutes I'll be creating a ham sandwich.' But no. It was 'I'm creating abundance and joy, George. How 'bout you?' "

"After Legacy, I was a new person," writes eliminatedego, "and it was a far shade of who I was before. Like being turned into a zombie. My conversation changed. All the dynamics, jokes, ways and methods of reacting with other human beings disappeared and was left blank, or with Legacy jib-jab."

***************************

Any veteran journalist covering this topic would be given pause by the number of Legacy critics who post anonymously or use obvious pseudonyms. Each of us must make a personal judgment about the authenticity and credibility of such statements. I see this as one of those cases where the sheer volume of smoke is such that there must be a fire. Further, the reluctance to speak "for the record" is hardly surprising, given that Legacy, like Landmark (and others), takes an aggressive, proactive stance on criticism, bullying individual critics and threatening to sue those who attempt to maintain ongoing anti-Legacy sites. Such a filing is known as a SLAPP, or "strategic lawsuit against public participation." (Google "legacy center" + lawsuits; several of the links that come up will guide you to the fallout from this hypersensitivity to criticism: the assorted "file not found"s and other loose ends resulting from sites being deleted or sanitized.)

To me, this extreme reluctance to allow all opinions to see the light of day itself speaks volumes.

Inasmuch as so many of these enterprise absolutely depend on word of mouth, with one attendee "hooking up" another, I'll close today with a question, posed by mountainhoon, that strikes me as singularly appropriate in today's disconnected cyber-times, which have left so many of us with a desperate yearning for true human contact in almost any form: "Is it possible that many of us (I include myself here) have so lowered our thresholds with regard to whom we think of as 'friends' and how soon we assign them that title that it becomes too easy for people to insert themselves into our lives?"

Something to think about.

* These numbers should not be interpreted as a literal portrait of Legacy's revenue stream or business model. They simply represent one blogger's armchair analysis.
* I think it's clear from context that swanson speaks metaphorically. I do not think the line conveys any implication that the writer attended a session that included someone who was raped as well as someone who "didn't get the ice cream flavor she wanted..."

'Living in the Flow'? How 'bout 'Dying in the Desert'?

UPDATE, Thursday, April 15. Just got another email from my new friend James Ray, this one with a cheery video embedded.

I happen to disagree with some of those who've commented here, because if this is a "strategy," it's a piss-poor one. One of Ray's lawyers (or someone) needs to tell him that with each new solicitation he sends out—or fails to prevent from going out, if these are indeed being generated automatically—he probably tacks on another month to his sentence, or another few hundred grand to the eventual jury award(s) against him. Is it even possible to look more venal or lacking in conscience?

===================================

I confess, I haven't been staying on top of the James Ray debacle as well as I ought to—and I haven't been able to fully keep up with what others have been posting, either—so I may be late to this party. (I'm working frantically on something new/potentially big again.) But I find it astonishing (albeit not entirely shocking) that Ray is still putting himself out there, trolling for new business, at a time when he's facing not just that pesky manslaughter rap, but a growing welter of lawsuits—now including a class action—over his failure to provide refunds to his existing customers for events that never took place.

In fairness to Ray, it would be one thing if he limited his overtures to the Web; you could make a case that those sites/pages were up long before the unpleasantness of last fall, and he simply hasn't taken them down. Thus any ongoing business prospecting would be passive, as it were. But yesterday, presumably because I registered for that event last month, I received from him an email with the subject line "Putting it into practice." As follows:

Dear ,*

I trust you're enjoying the series on Seven Factors for a Fulfilling Life and that you're getting very clear on who you are, why you’re here, and what you choose to accomplish.

Hopefully you’re also at minimum thinking about who can be a mentor in your life, and why it’s vitally important to have one… and if you've chosen that person that's even better!

Now it’s time to put some of these discoveries into action. Please check out the next video in your series entitled Practices.

Click here to watch: www.JamesRay.com

Have a magnificent and masterful day,

James Arthur Ray

P.S. I have a new partnership with Business Broadcasting for a new live and interactive internet radio show called "Living in the Flow" starting in May. Stay tuned for updates and information

P.P.S. What topic would you like me to discuss on my new show? What question do you need answered? Send your input to LivingintheFlow@live.com and I'll be sure to cover your topic and answer your questions.

If you're reading this, James, I have a question: Just how big a set of cojones does it take to continue to pretend things are business-as-usual? S

* That's exactly the way the email arrived: with a blank space after "Dear." The personal touch.

A questionable legacy? Part 1.

The research and anecdotal evidence seem to indicate that LGATs are very successful at producing positive opinions about the trainings—an outcome that the financial officers of every service business would value.
—Michael D. Langone, PhD, editor of Cultic Studies Journal

It's clever because the first program (the Basic) starts out slowly, and accommodates people's natural skepticism, all the while trying to ingrain in people to 'trust the process. Don't ask why we do things a certain way. We do it this way because it works. Trust the process.' "
—Blog comment by anonymous Legacy Center participant, May 1, 2009

Perched in pastoral but up-and-coming Morrisville, North Carolina—midway between Raleigh and Durham, and just outside the thriving business hub known as the Research Triangle—is a training firm called Legacy Center. Legacy was launched in 1998 by Rob Katz and UNC adjunct professor Lori Todd*, both of whom also belong to a coaching consortium immodestly titled "The Answer to Absolutely Everything." (Another member of The Answer is a fellow named John Hanley, to whom we'll return in a moment.) Under the "Where We Come From" tab on its site, the Center explains its origins like so:

"Legacy Center draws upon many disciplines to provide a full curriculum of innovative, dynamic, and challenging workshops. Our learning model is distinct in that it blends experiential learning with a co-creative coaching model."

On another page, under the heading of "community," one finds this:

"Every LP [Legacy Project] team creates an extraordinary project that leaves a tangible legacy.... Over a million dollars in cash and in-kind contributions have been donated to the community through over 100 Legacy Projects.

And, under "leadership" development:

"[Y]ou will be coached in how to stand outside the ordinary in order to achieve a quantum leap in results, both personally and professionally. The intent of this three-month coaching program is for you to develop your skills in leadership, accomplishment, enrollment, and service."

There is no question that Legacy has satisfied its share of customers, or that cyberspace crackles with associated talk of public service and good works, which appear substantial and genuine. Legacy also works hard to cultivate an image as an energetic, forward-looking, boundary-stretching experience that will open people's eyes to new thresholds of possibility. The Center toots its own horn thusly: "We have never been described as boring."

Indeed. And now, inasmuch as Legacy itself has opened that door, let's take a look at some ways in which the Center has been described.

Here's one:

"Several years ago, my life was destroyed by a cult in the Raleigh, North Carolina area by the name of The Legacy Center...."

And another:

"When I finally dropped out, it was a very long recovery process (and it's still not over for me). The Advanced was way worse than the Basic, much more sleep deprivation, and my voice was completely gone by the end of the week from so much screaming... I relived every traumatic experience of my life in front of a group of total strangers...."

And another:

"I was in love with someone who did not listen to his instincts and enrolled in LC. My life and my relationship became a total hell because of them and their 'clarity.' "

And:

"I came out of the program feeling violated, duped, and manipulated."

And:

"[W]henever I hear phrases that parallel the jargon of this group, I have 'flashbacks' and I feel sick to my stomach. I used to be an optimist, and I really thought love could change the world. Now I'm like a dog that's been kicked too many times, and I 'bite' anyone who tries to show me love."

All of this may have to do with a conspicuous omission from Legacy's account of its origins and its "co-creative" coaching model: any mention of now-defunct Lifespring. This is important in at least two respects. First, both Legacy founders, Katz and Todd, are notable Lifespring alumni who, by some accounts, were instrumental in building the company's Washington, D.C. chapter into a regional powerhouse. Second, by many accounts, Legacy's methodologies owe much to its philosophical forebear, right down to the names it uses for its levels of coursework: Legacy's offerings unfold sequentially via Basic, Advanced and Leadership classes. Though those are hardly uncommon words, one would think that an organization seeking to escape its heritage and set its own agenda wouldn't fall back on the same old nomenclature when so many apt synonyms are readily available.

Then again, it's easy to see why Katz and Todd would hope to distance themselves from their Lifespring roots. Formed in 1974 by the aforementioned Hanley—who five years earlier had been convicted of mail fraud—Lifespring ranked right beside est as one of the earliest major consciousness-raising programs and a cultural bellwether. (A cynic might say that fraud is in the DNA of all such programs; both Lifespring and est owe a debt to the Leadership Dynamics Institute, a sales-training-inflected regimen widely regarded as the seminal LGAT. Leadership Dynamics was itself the brainchild of a man, William Penn Patrick, once busted for running a multilevel-marketing enterprise that, according to regulators, reduced to a pyramid scheme.) Lifespring claimed to have trained 300,0000 people, and had begun making inroads into the lucrative realm of corporate training, by the time it met its Waterloo in the late 1980s; that's when the company was basically sued into oblivion.

A sampling of that litigation, for flavor:

In 1982, David Priddle's heirs accepted an undisclosed sum from Lifespring after Priddle committed suicide by jumping naked off a four-story parking garage the morning after completing the course.**

The family of Artie Barnett, a non-swimmer with a crippling fear of water established when he nearly drowned at age 8, reached an out-of-court settlement with Lifespring after Barnett did indeed drown during his Lifespring training: His group leader had suggested to Barnett that he could conquer his fears by jumping into the Williamette River.

Gail Renick's father, Bill Nugent, received $450,000 from Lifespring after Renick died from an asthma attack on the final day of her Lifespring course in 1980. Nugent argued that Lifespring facilitators induced his daughter to forgo her medication because, they said, her asthma was psychosomatic.

Lifespring also settled with Gabriella Martinez, who claimed that she heard her trainer's voice in her head the night she swallowed a bottle of pills, and in 1984 Deborah Bingham was awarded $800,000 after her breakdown on the heels of a Lifespring course. In all, more than 30 lawsuits were filed against the company for charges ranging from involuntary servitude to wrongful death.

IN PART 2: Further explorations of the Lifespring/Legacy link.

* I must say, based on Todd's academic CV, that she seems a most unlikely person to be involved with an enterprise like Legacy Center, given her background in "industrial hygiene" and "environmental toxicology," and career highlights that include the creation and teaching of a specialized course called "Hands-on Introduction to Gas Analyses with Fourier Transform Infrared (FTIR) Spectrometry." I decided to seek a comment from Prof. Michael Aitken, who chairs the department of psychology at UNC. My call was returned by Ramona DuBose, communications director of the Gillings School of Global Public Health, who said that Aitken was "swamped," and that the university has no position on Prof. Todd or the Center.
** The "jumping naked/naked suicide" motif is eerily common in the world of LGATs-gone-awry, as recounted in my controversial piece for the Wall Street Journal last October. Further, a Lifespring attendee named George Kayal, of nearby Bethlehem, PA, won a settlement in 1982 when he suffered a breakdown during which, among other things, he stripped naked and assaulted a police officer outside a church.

You don't recall being abused? It's all part of the syndrome.

Just a quickie here as I prepare my next major post, but this short article from the UK Telegraph is, in my view, a must-read. It provides more evidence of a phenomenon that I emphasized in my book, and that's arguably the most insidious and unforgivable of self-help's many sins: that as a prelude to selling you its dubious fixes, SHAMland must first persuade you that you're damaged in some sense. The specific phenomenon described in the piece was most patently visible in the McMartin case and other sex-abuse witch-hunts of the late '80s and early '90s, but the mentality behind it can be traced back to that watershed self-help work of the postmodern period, I'm OK, You're OK (1967), whose central thesis was, in essence, that nobody's OK, at least not without a great deal of formal therapy or other psychic remediation. We're all victims of implanted dysfunction...and if you don't believe that, you're in denial and may require an actual intervention by those who love you.

The same maddening tactic remains clear in the meta-message of all those (so-called) women's magazines, whose essential news for today's woman is that "you're too fat, you're too passive, you're never pretty enough as you are, your alleged friends are gossiping about you behind your back, you'll never really find balance or peace in life, you don't know how to get a man (or keep him once you get him), and on top of everything else...you even smell bad 'down there.' " All this in the name of "empowerment."

It's pretty sad, folks. S

How would you describe your legacy?

I'm interested in speaking with anyone who's had some firsthand experience, positive or negative, with Legacy Center, based in Morrisville, NC (between Raleigh and Chapel Hill). By "firsthand" I mean that you (a) attended a Legacy program or (b) maintained a close relationship with someone who attended a Legacy program or (c) were solicited by someone who attended a Legacy program. And from what I hear so far, anyone who falls into category (b) also falls into category (c).

In any case, please email me as soon as possible and we'll arrange a time to talk. Of course, if you yourself don't qualify but you know of someone who does, by all means point that person in my direction. S