Ted shares some of the comments and feedbacks he gets about his attempts to do his podcast.

That are all nice, because he won't share the ones that aren't nice!

After an afternoon of cutting firewood with his friend Terry, dark clouds and rain convinced Ted it might be a good time to stop and head to the Three Mile Café for pie—except the café is out of pie and the ice cream machine isn’t working.

Over coffee and cookies they watch the weather change. By the time they return home, the rain has turned to a gentle snowfall—the kind of snow that’s pretty to watch but doesn’t require shoveling.

Today on Almost Paradise in North Idaho, I sit down with retired Naval Flight Officer Mike Peterson for a fascinating conversation about life in the cockpit—or as Mike jokingly puts it, the back seat, where the “important work” happens.

Mike served aboard aircraft carriers navigating and targeting from high-performance fighter jets, guiding missions in situations where American troops were sometimes dangerously close to the action. He shares stories of the intensity of carrier operations—launching and landing on a deck that tilts, rolls, and heaves in the middle of the ocean—and the unforgettable “pucker moments” that come with flying at the edge of chaos.

With humor and perspective, Mike compares the legendary F-14 Tomcat to a classic Pontiac GTO muscle car, while the newer Super Hornet, packed with advanced technology, reminds him more of a highly capable Honda Civic.

Along the way we hear about call signs, mistakes that turn into lifelong nicknames, the teamwork required to succeed in aviation, and the discipline and character built through service.

Today Mike applies those lessons to leadership and strategy in civilian life. Our conversation also explores patriotism, history, and the importance of understanding the challenges facing our nation today.

It’s a thoughtful, entertaining look at service, responsibility, and the lessons learned both in the air and on the ground.

When the clocks jump ahead for Daylight Saving Time, our bodies don’t always get the memo.

In this Morning Brew, Ted shares a few front-porch reflections on those groggy Monday mornings when the alarm clock and our inner clock don’t quite agree.

With a strong cup of coffee in hand, he talks about darker mornings, sleepy greetings, and the importance of staying alert on the highways, especially when deer might be starting their day too.

With a little humor, a little wisdom, and a reminder that even lost hours eventually settle in, Ted encourages listeners to wake up, take it slow, and face the day with patience and a good brew.

In this Morning Brew reflection, Ted shares the simple tools that help him notice life more carefully—a small spiral notebook and a four-color Bic pen carried in his shirt pocket.

This habit by Ted was formed years ago when he was a journalism student and teacher. It now it has become a daily companion for podcast ideas, observations, and reminders worth remembering.

Written in red ink so they stand out, these notes capture moments that might otherwise pass by unnoticed. It’s a lighthearted look at listening more than talking, paying attention to the world around us, and how even the smallest habits can help us slow down, reflect, and find stories hiding in everyday life.

In this Morning Brew reflection, Ted shares a lighthearted story about a stubborn molar and a tired old fence post—two things that recently demanded his attention. The tooth had quite a history, including a root canal more than twenty years ago, and after weeks of whispering, talking, and finally yelling, it was clear a trip to the dentist couldn’t be avoided. The verdict? Extraction.

At the same time, a wooden gate post on Ted’s property has been slowly giving up the ghost as well. A couple of steel T-posts have it temporarily standing, but everyone knows that fix won’t last forever.

Somewhere between dental chairs and leaning fence posts, Ted reflects on the dangers of living life on autopilot. Whether it’s our health, our habits, or the small warnings life gives us, wisdom often comes from listening to the whispers before they become shouts.

Sometimes the simplest lessons come from everyday things around us.

In this Morning Brew reflection, Ted briefly acknowledges the growing tensions and conflict in the Middle East, offering prayers for those affected while choosing not to add more noise to an already crowded news cycle. Instead, he turns his attention to something closer to home in North Idaho.

After his ATV suddenly died while plowing snow, a series of friends stepped in to help. From Jim helping tow the machine to Ted's garage, to retired mechanic Bob diagnosing a loose spark plug, to Terry lending a strong back cutting and splitting firewood for next winter, the stories all point to the same truth: community matters.

Sometimes the most important headlines never make the news. They happen in garages, driveways, and wood piles—where neighbors show up, lend a hand, and remind us what friendship really looks like.

Retirement sounds simple—work hard, collect the watch, and enjoy the rest. But as Harold and I talk through on this front porch episode, it’s not that tidy.

For many men, work isn’t just what we did. It’s who we were. So what happens when the job title disappears? When the alarm clock stops ringing? When you’re suddenly home… all the time?

In this honest conversation between two guys in their 70s, we wrestle with the loss of identity that can sneak in after retirement. We talk about living on a fixed income, adjusting expectations, and learning how to share space—and time—with the spouse in a whole new way. There’s humor, a little self-reflection, and yes, a few hard truths about mistakes we’ve both made along the road.

Harold leans into the deeper faith questions: Does purpose retire? Does calling have an expiration date? I try to keep it grounded in everyday reality—projects in the garage, men’s groups, community involvement, and the simple discipline of staying useful.

If you’re retired, nearing retirement, or walking beside someone who is, this conversation may sound familiar. Because when the career chapter closes, life doesn’t. In many ways, it’s just beginning again.

Pull up a chair. The coffee’s still hot.