So my wife Mary has gone out and done it again. Every so often, she'll get something in her head that we need around the house which requires a trip to the store and home she comes with a new gadget that promises to enhance our lives. She's so good at this, that sometimes she doesn't even need to leave the house, but instead makes a call or orders the product online that she just saw on TV. Well the other day she brought home a doozy.

You have to understand something about Mary. Right up there with her love for music is her obsession with smells and aromas, and it was this love for aromas that inspired her to bring home this new gadget. I'm not sure what commercial she saw for this one or what advertisement in the store grabbed her attention, all I know is I'm ready to yank the new thing off of the wall, open the patio door and throw it in the pool, because while the new Air Wick Freshmatic Ultra Odor Detector is making our house smell fresher, it's also scary and insulting.

Here's the description of this machine. "Keep your home smelling fresh and welcoming all the time with AIR WICK® FRESHMATIC® Odor Detect™, the first automatic spray device with odor sensor technology. This breakthrough technology automatically detects and overcomes thousands of unpleasant odors, without you having to think about it." Sounds like the silver bullet of odor control right? Well maybe.

The trouble with this thing started the next morning when my daughter Stephanie and I were up early sitting at the kitchen counter doing some work. There we sat, quietly in deep thought and concentration, when suddenly the odor detector must have detected something it didn't like and went off. You would have thought a bomb exploded as Steph and I were startled out of our chairs. And after we finally settled down, a few minutes later it did it again and scared the hooey out of us. And if that wasn't bad enough, as Mary's explaining to the girls how the new machine detects odors and automatically sends out a burst of air freshener, I walk in the room and stood next to the thing to simply ask Mary a question about another matter, and poof, the stupid thing goes off again, because evidently it didn't like the way I smelled! So now we're all held captive in our clean smelling house by this new Air Witch, because Mary didn't just buy one of these little units...she had to buy two. And evidently, these little machines must be able to read too, because after I typed that last sentence about it being the Air Witch, it just sent out another scented burst of odoriferous spring flowers.

Truth is maybe we all should do life like this little gadget. Yes, it's not easy in the real world and sometimes things happen that simply stink. But instead of automatically allowing the negative to influence you, why not try to be that sudden burst of freshness and make your surroundings a more positive, uplifting environment. You have the ability to change the atmosphere with just one word, so make it a good affirming word and watch how good others will feel.

Here's a question: How do you make the world a better place without being a nuisance?

Recently I had the privilege of ringing the boxing bell that was used at the funeral of the great Boxing legend, Angelo Dundee. In the middle of the bell was a quote the trainer became known for that read, "It doesn't cost you anything to be nice." Yet it seems so ironic to me that of all the quotes to be attributed to this man it would be that particular one, especially since he was connected to a sport that was brutal and the opposite of nice. But evidently Dundee understood one of the secret keys to becoming a success in life...being nice.

Apparently, someone's forgot to tell the people on the streets of Manhattan about this little known key. Just last week I was able to get away with Mary and our girls to connect with a couple of friends, do a little work, and of course take in the excitement of New York City. Walking down the sidewalks in the city that never sleeps is a challenge as mobs of people are in a hurry and the last thing on anyone's mind is being nice. On one particular corner stood a guy handing out club cards to a Comedy joint around the block. As the mob of people filled the sidewalk, he stood right in the middle yelling out his off colored, crude jokes in ear shot of everyone walking by, and after the third or fourth time of having to navigate around him, he and I came face to face. But did he move...did he say excuse me...did he kindly extend an invite to his Club...did he do anything for this tourist visiting the Big Apple? Nada, zip, not a thing. But he did look me straight in the eye and without saying a word let me know I was invading his space on the sidewalk.

Contrast that to the midnight crossing of the Canadian border. After leaving Lancaster Pennsylvania later in the day, Mary and I were determined to reach Buffalo NY before 10:00 PM. Heading up the mountainous roads and highways, we realized 300 miles across that region was a bit different from 300 miles across the flat lands of Florida, but we kept pushing through and finally reached our destination a couple hours later than we had planned. As we rolled into Buffalo we saw signs of Niagara Falls and since that was on our schedule for the next day we figured why not give the border crossing a try now rather than in the morning when traffic may be heavier. Sure enough, as we came up to the Border Patrol the lanes were empty so we choose lane number one and we were surprisingly greeted with the kindest, warmest, most welcoming female agent that asked us a few questions, checked out our passports, and had us across the border in a matter of minutes.

Honestly, I was shocked...even taken back by her nice demeanor to the point that when she started asking questions about our travel I went totally dumb, couldn't think straight, began blabbering something until Mary stepped in to rescue me from myself and answer the agent’s questions. After handing us back our passports, she gave us directions to the best hotels and hotspots of Niagara.

Now I don't usually like to boast, but I'll tell you that this Canadian Border Agent must have thought I was pretty cute as it honestly felt like she was flirting with me. I mean after leaving the bright lights of New York where the people weren't all that sweet and nice, this female Agent was sure enough letting me know I was pretty special. But evidently, according to Mary and the girls, I was wrong and she wasn't flirting with me at all. For if being nice meant people were flirting with me, then I must have been the best looking guy in Canada (which they were quick to remind me is not true) because all Canadians, both men and women, were being so nice. But it did show me two things. First, Canadians are nice people, and second, Angelo Dundee's point about being nice is true. When we're nice and kind to others, it makes them feel pretty special about themselves, and isn't that what life should be about anyway?

I'm going to try and do my best to put on nice everyday, not just on the days I'm feeling good. How about you, what are some of the things you do that helps you be nice to others?

America seems to be hungry for a good story. In the past three weeks, the movie “The Hunger Games” has brought in just over 300 million dollars in box office revenue making it the film to reach this mark in the shortest period of time in movie history. The story takes place in a post apocalyptic America where a 12 district federation sends two teen members to compete in the annual “Hunger Games” where participants must fight in an outdoor arena until only one remains alive. The prize? The winning district is handsomely rewarded with much needed food and honor is bestowed upon being the strongest and best represented.

Ten days before our Easter services, MLC launched the #WWFStreetGames where church members were divided into 5 teams and were encouraged to hit the streets (and their telephones) in an all out campaign to invite as many people possible to attend church on Easter Sunday. And although our games didn’t involve a duel to the death, we played with an urgency that parallels that of survival, only the lives at stake were not our own.

One of the predominant themes of the movie was that of sacrifice. This theme was present in the players of the #WWFStreetGames as well. They quickly learned that in order to play, they would have to give up most of their free time during a busy holiday week. The prize for this sacrifice? The winning team in our games would be honored at a party where the losing teams will serve them a dinner in a formal setting. Why would anyone sacrifice their free time to win a free dinner? It wasn't about the food or the humiliation of the other team. They chose to sacrifice because they too were once hungry for the truth and someone took the time to share it with them. They contemplated the question, “What if someone had not taken the time to tell me the truth?” No better motivation.

Another important theme in the movie was that of appearance, where the value of a person is based not on who they are but what they demonstrate or what they can do. Throughout the movie, image becomes the deciding factor for the success or failure of the contestants. But the true power of the victors was found in this truth: alone we may look like we have it altogether; like we are doing well, but true strength comes from being honest enough to give and receive help. Teamwork is powerful, and watching our #WWFStreetGames contestants make 1500 calls in one night and distributing 8,000 fliers in the City of Doral was only accomplished because we worked in unity. Everyone involved knew that together we could get it done.

In our games, we all experienced the accolades of being the strongest and the best represented because in the end, we ALL won. George Orwell once said that during times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act. People are hungry for the truth in America and our games became a way to start a revolution by simply feeding those in need.

What would you sacrifice to share the truth? In what ways has teamwork made the difference in your own life?

If you're a visitor to our wonderful city, then you're swept off your feet with the diversity of our South Florida culture which influences our food, entertainment and shopping experience. From one community to the next, you'll feel as though you're at Disney's Epcot enjoying the many countries of the world. But all that diversity that makes living in our city so fun and fabulous comes to a screeching halt the minute you walk into the Passport Office. And yesterday, it was my turn to have one of those unique Miami experiences that you won't see advertised on TV by the Greater Miami Chamber of Commerce...it was time for Passport Renewal.

Every local knows that it has to happen someday. You can't be surrounded everyday by the beautiful people of different cultures and not want to venture out and visit their countries, which means sooner or later you'll have to first make the trip to get the "book". Yet that's the one place I want to avoid as it ranks right up there with a prostate exam, for all that unique diverseness that makes up our great community is part of what makes this experience so frustrating.

The moment you pass through the security check point and walk into the very loud room, the journey into hell begins. You can feel the tension in the air as you want to make sure you don't miss something, because the next three hours of your life are going to be miserable. Am I in the right line? Is this the right paperwork? Am I sitting in the right section? What do you mean I shouldn't have signed yet? How much money? Why doesn't that mother quiet her little girl? Am I sure I took my blood pressure meds? Welcome to the Gateway of the Americas.

As stressful as it was though, I must say whoever is responsible for training the personnel at the Passport Agency is doing a killer job. I take my hat off to that individual. From the moment I pulled in to the parking lot I was treated with the kindest, most hospitable, service friendly people. Shocker! Man have things changed at the Agency. Someone in the top office realized that due to the diverseness of our city and the challenges that goes with properly documenting the travel books of those from the different countries that make our city unique, the last thing we need is an agency worker who doesn't want to be at their post. And the little lady at window number twelve was the one who really impressed. Her name was Carmen. She was barely 5 ft tall, tiny little frame, sweet natured, big hearted and seemed to really love her job and she made all the difference and helped me, Mary and our girls get through the experience with a little less stress.

I wish we could all be like little Carmen when it comes to dealing with our differences. Diversity is a good thing as it makes life exciting. It also could be the cause for major stress and division. Instead of letting our differences get in our way of connecting with each other, let's learn to role with the punches and celebrate our uniqueness. Lately, some in the media are using our differences against us and that shouldn't be the case, because I remember the Miami race riots in the 70's when buildings were being burned and precious lives were lost all because some people let the tension of that moment get the best of them. We don't need that in our community or society. Instead, let's take a lesson from the Passport Agency and the Carmen's of the world. Our diverseness is our uniqueness, so let's work together to create a helpful calm in the midst of stressful times.

Last week was one of those busy weeks filled with a full agenda that carried over into the weekend. After the last handshake and thank you to some of the greatest people on the planet, I jumped in the car with the family Sunday afternoon and headed north just to get away and chill for a day. First thing Monday was a nice breakfast and then me, Mary and the girls were laid up on the Beach enjoying a beautiful ocean breeze. It was the perfect place to power down and with every wave sweeping up on the sand and flowing back out into the surf, I felt the stress trickle out of my body and my energy restored.

I've been around the beach and sun all my life in SoFlo and most of the time I'm aware of the fair skin my lovely mother passed on to me at birth. It's one of the blessings of being Ann Alessi's son, along with her good natured sweet spirit. Yes, I have a soft side that comes from my mommy. Over the years though I wished I had inherited my father's olive complexion from his Italian heritage, but that wasn't the case. I can thank him for my hot-passionate temper and high blood pressure. So when I hit the beach, I'm one of those who need the 30 SPF sun screen.

On the beach I made sure I loaded up my face, chest, stomach and shoulders and then turned my attention to the cool, relaxing breeze. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Perfect day to simply relax, which I did for about 2 hours. When we were ready for a good meal, we packed up our chairs and towels, cleaned up and off we went to a "Little Bit of Brooklyn". And that's when I started to notice the uncomfortable pain in a very odd location...my underarms. At first I thought my deodorant had caused a slight irritation, but when I got back home and took off my shirt I realized I forgot to put sunblock on one very important place on my body and now my underarms were screaming from the pain of being sunburned. Can you imagine that, an underarm sunburn?

Now maybe this is something women are accustomed to dealing with when they head out to the beach, but putting sunblock under my arms is not what I usually do when I'm in the sun. And let me tell you, the last thing on my mind to do after hanging out with a bunch of Goodfellas for a few days, was sunscreening up my underarms. But now the burning heat is as irritating as...well you know. Next time for sure I'm covering up every place on my body.

And that's not only good for sunbathing, but also a good practice for every area of my life. I just can't get out in life and not think about keeping myself protected or else life can be filled with pain. An unprotected attitude could mean pain in my career. Unprotected spending will lead to pain in my wallet. Unprotected passions definitely will cause serious pain in my relationships. There are some areas of our lives that we need to keep covered or else pain will be the outcome.

One of the greatest lessons of life can be learned from the sport of Boxing. After the boxers are announced and the fighters are brought to the middle of the ring to receive their last minute instructions from the referee, before he sends them back to their corner to begin the fight, he always admonishes the fighters with these words: Keep yourself protected at all times.

You got it, ref. I will definitely remember every day is a fight and we need to stay on our toes and stay protected. Because, as I learned this week on the Beach, the uncovered areas of our lives could cause us much pain and there's no one to blame for that but ourselves.

Help me out. How do you keep yourself protected at all times?

I have a picture stuck in my head of my Dad and I when I was baby. It's a classic pic of a Dad whose beaming ear to ear with pride as he proudly displays his son on the hood of his car. I'm set in the sitting position with legs spread wide for balance and arms extended over my head in a "pick me up" pose, and he's leaning against the hood on his elbow with his legs crossed around his ankles. As you look at the photo the thought that comes to mind is the baby should be sitting in a highchair or crib and not on the hood of an old Chevy. But that's the reason for the picture. Little boy, let Daddy introduce you to the real world where big boys know how to play with bigger and faster toys.

In just a few hours, a group of men in South Florida will kick off an event that's solely for big boys and their toys. We're loading up a 4000 sq ft Man Cave with the machine gun mounted Jaguar from the James Bond "Die Another Day" movie, thanks to Michael Dezer and his large privately owned collection. Miami Bike builder, Axel, has dropped off his sick custom chopper and side car hydraulic lifted beauty. Thanks to Luis Sanchez and his PAW MotorSport, 2 of his Racing MINI's were dropped off and will sit perfectly next to the two 10 foot interactive gaming-screens. The black pavement walkway will feature a number of mustangs and Harley's just to wet the appetite as the fellas make their way in.

Along with all the toys will be a demonstration from a few power lifters as 8-time Mr. Olympia, Lee Haney talks about true strength. The speaking line-up includes former Lightweight Boxing Champion, Ray "Boom Boom" Mancini, Scott Jones and mad-man, Doug Giles. Live interviews and recognition of heroic efforts by Special Opts Officer Rich Bautista and Doral Policeman Michael Rodriguez, while MMA Undefeated Fighter, Level Martinez shares his moving story of how he transformed his life from gang-banger to cage-fighter.

Speaking about big boys, I was looking through my email the other day and came across this funny story about Bubba and the night he graduated from Cox High School. When they were about halfway through the ceremony the principal said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem. Bubba is a few credits short and won't be able to graduate tonight."

Bubba was the starting right guard for Cox's football team. When the student body heard that he wasn't going to graduate, they all jumped up and started to chant, "Give Bubba another chance! Give Bubba another chance!" The football coach and the principal had a quick conference. Afterward, the principal announced that they decided to give Bubba another chance. Bubba was told that he will be given a "One Question" math test, and if he passed, he could graduate.

The question was, "What is 2 plus 3?" Bubba thought for a couple of minutes and finally said, "I have it! The answer is 5!" There was complete silence in the auditorium for a couple of seconds, and then the entire Cox High School football team jumped up and began to chant, "Give Bubba one more chance! Give Bubba one more chance!"

Now that's funny, but the truth is not everybody's laughing out there in the big boy World of Life, and some are needing more chances to get it right. To get it right, we need to be challenged so we can change, trained so we can be tested, and pressed so we can prosper. Goodfellas is about building up the men around us, because we've learned that no man can get up on the hood of life, without somebody helping us get up there.

If you're in the South Florida area, I hope you'll join me at the Goodfellas Men's Conference, March 21-24, 2012. Info at www.metrolifechurch.cc #GFConf2012

I've been suffering from a "chronic" type pain that I wake up with every morning for as long as I can remember. I don't have it when I go to sleep at night, but sure enough each and every morning when I open my eyes it's there and it takes me a good hour to work through it and get relief. My pain is a headache that's accompanied by a stuffed up head.

First thing one would consider to fix my problem would be to look at my sleeping conditions, since evidently something is going on in my sleep that is causing me to wake up with this morning mess in my head. But I don't want to change the near freezing like temps in my room, nor am I ready to turn off the ceiling fan just so I can wake up free from the pain and congestion. It's like the saying, when the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing, I'll change. Well, waking up may be painful, but those six to eight hours of sleep are more important to me than the hour clearing out my head. So I've forced Mary to adjust to sleeping in the polar conditions in the room. Which means she has to endure me snorting, sneezing and hacking for an hour every morning until my head clears and the headache subsides.

In order for my wife Mary to adjust to the Icelandic sleeping conditions, she's had to purchase a nice, heavy, cozy comforter for our bed, which she did a few years ago. And of course, like most women, she had to buy a beautiful set of pillows to adorn the comforter with so that it takes us an hour just to clear the bed so we can get in it to sleep. No wonder I sleep so soundly. Between the large dose of Melatonin and the work out I get just getting into bed, I'm exhausted when my head finally hits the pillow. But I don't complain (at least not every night), because even I find the weighty comforter pretty comforting and cozy, as it keeps our bodies perfectly warmed all night long.

But interestingly, it was discovered by my very own Mary that what's been causing my troubles is the very comforter that is bringing us comfort. It appears our cozy little friend is filled with goose feathers, and I evidently am allergic to the "down". Imagine that, the "down" has been bringing me down. I can't go into the details of how this little secret was discovered, but let's just say Mary's filled with her own little personal grief since feeling responsible for my personal pain and congestion, as she personally picked out and purchased the comforter. Now that the comforter is gone, I've been healed from the chronic morning misery.

How ironic to think that what brought me comfort in one aspect of my life brought me so much pain in another. The comforter wasn't really comforting me at all, but instead was actually the culprit of my pain.

Today, I'm finally free and it was as easy as changing the covers on my bed. So don't let the covers keep you covered any longer. If you're living a pain-filled life emotionally, physically or even spiritually, take a look at what you're using to comfort you. If that comforter is actually causing you more pain, then change the covers and watch how free you'll begin to feel.