My mother, God rest her soul, surely wanted what was best for me. Like most mothers who were raised in the Great Depression, Vivian made it her life’s mission to prepare her children in every way she knew to be safe, secure and independent. My sister, as dainty as she was, baited her own hooks, shot squirrels from the tops of the oaks, and changed her own oil and tires. Mom’s  four boys all cooked, sewed, ironed and scrubbed the grass and blood stains from their game jerseys Friday night so the stains would not set. I loved my mother for all that she was and all that she did and was willing to do anything …..Except eat her green beans. She prepared them several different ways in an attempt to get me to eat them. I listened and I tried over and over. I wanted in the most sincere way to like green beans just to please my mother.

I find myself feeling the same way about dealer Facebook accounts as I did green beans. I visit countless FB dealer sites trying to find a way to embrace it and develop a taste for it. Telling me it is good for me is not enough. It needs to taste good to me.

What I appreciated the most growing up was my mother not suggesting to me that the world started and stopped with her beans or any other one thing but rather her encouraging me and my siblings that variety and balance was most important.

I eat and enjoy many vegetables, just not green beans.

To all those telling me I will not survive if I do not embrace Facebook I say, I survived without green beans.

When I see positive numbers and statistics in place of theory and conjecture, I’ll eat my beans.

My opinion and a buck will get you a coffee most places.