THEN: Secretary of State (KY), 1996-2004; Candidate for Lieutenant Governor, 2007
NOW: JYB3 Group (Owner) -public affairs consulting firm; Miller Wells law firm (Of counsel)
Full Biography:link
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Apr 13, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Celebrity look alike?
Who are the celebrities you think you look most like? And which one do you really look most like?
Oh, I know. You’ve never thought about this because you aren’t that shallow. Baloney. Don’t worry, I haven’t either.
And that’s baloney too.
I’ll go first.
Being associated with a celebrity based on appearance must have some instinctive pull on us. Maybe it gives us a sense of validation that we are somehow important (or have the potential to be) bc we look like someone who is considered important and successful.
When I was a boy I had blondish curly hair. And lots of it.
The first celebrity I was told I looked like was Shirley Temple. A little girl. This displeased and distressed me to the point I took a pair of scissors and cut my own hair. It would be the last time I’d do anything like that again before the Flowbee was introduced some 25 years later.
The Shirley Temple comments ended around ages 6 or 7. And a new celebrity comparison began. Jody –from Family Affair (as in Buffy and Jody), i.e. Johnny Whitaker. Jody was a quantum leap better than Shirley….And best of all he was a male! But if I could have chosen any celebrity in Hollywood, he would have been my first choice.
So I tried to improve on it. When I was 15 the movie Blue Lagoon came out. Two good looking teens, Christopher Atkins and Brooke Shields are stranded on a deserted island and forced to fall in love. Atkins had curly hair and was my age. I floated a the idea to several people that someone had suggested I looked like him. (The person who suggested I looked like him was me–and I suggest it to me.) Suffice it to say the idea never caught on.
No one –other than me–ever thought I looked like Christopher Atkins. Ever. Not even a little.
Chastened, a lowered my standards. I floated the idea a few years later around age 17 that someone (again me) told me I looked like Tommy from the sitcom Eight is Enough.
It didn’t catch on either. Mostly because no one I told could understand why I would want to look like Tommy –of all the celebrities out there.
That’s when I gave up on trying to find a celeb look alike to bolster my self -esteem. At least for the next 30 years.
I may float a rumor later this week that I look like a mature Jonah Hill (after the weight loss). It’s not that I want to look like Jonah Hill. It’s mostly my last ditch resistance before making peace with the fact that the only celeb I’ve ever seriously been told I look like is Johnny Whitaker (Jody).
Like so much in life, it’s not what I was hoping for. But could have been a lot worse. I need to simply accept this and be grateful it’s not Shirley Temple.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Apr 11, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Having teenagers is a gift.
Not necessarily a gift that I would have picked out for myself. For example, like brides-to-be pick out for their bridal registry.
More like a sort of gag gift. That gets a knowing laugh at a party when opened but not as big a laugh as you’d hoped.
Because you begin to realize it’s not really a gag or a gift. So you put it in the corner and hope your spouse will know what to do with it and put it away for you. And not tell you where it is.
But you find it and after ignoring it many times you decide one day pull it out and read the instructions. And realize unlike most gifts, it doesn’t come ready-made.
The gift depends entirely on how much time you spend working on it. Like a Rubik’s Cube. You never figure it out.
But working on it makes you a smarter person—while simultaneously reminding you how incredibly dumb and limited you are. And makes those watching you play with it–your teenagers–realize they don’t have to be that smart or talented or together to make it in this world.
And they love you (and learn a lot) by watching you try–in front of them.
And they –your teens–are amused that you try to teach them the secrets of the Rubik’s Cube while daily failing to figure it out…And shocked when you get mad at them for not listening.
After all, why should you be mad? You’re playing with your gift.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Apr 10, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
“Funny awkward” or just “awkward”
Sometimes when I’m out and see someone I know out of the corner of my eye, I just don’t have the energy to say hello… so I pretend I don’t see them. And hope they don’t see me.
We are likes two ships passing in the dark of night (or light of day, really).
Sometimes, though, I’ll see them catching a quick glimpse at me. But also choose not to say hello because they are preoccupied with something and don’t have the energy or time to speak to me.
Once I know they have seen me and not said hello, I get uncomfortable. There is a chance they have also seen me see them and know that I failed to say hi when I had the chance.
So, I slyly “pretend” to have just seen them and act surprised (like I’m spotting them for the first time) and say hello. They–in return–act like they are just seeing me for the first time and say hello.
But what if their “fake first time hello” is less enthusiastic than mine? You can’t help but wonder if that be considered a slight? Or just life as it is in our hurried world? It’s the latter, of course.
That’s when I feel the whole exchange is “funny awkward.”
And when that happens, I admit, there’s a part of me that wants to point out that I did notice they saw me about a minute ago and could tell they didn’t want to talk to me.
Just so I know that they know…that I knew.
But I don’t. Because that would be just plain “awkward.”
And probably the last time we’d ever pretend not to see each other in public again…. before pretending to see each other for the first time and striking up a conversation.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Apr 9, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
I try to think each night before going to bed of what I’m grateful for that day.
One item on tonight’s list is not having to have any more “birds and the bees” talks with my children.
I was reminded tonight of my first attempt which did not go the way I had planned.
Finally ready for the talk (me, that is), I launched into it with my son when he age 9. I thought he’d be fascinated and want to know details and pepper me with curious questions.
Instead he interrupted me, “OK. Stop. I don’t want to hear anymore. That’s just gross. You act like picking your nose is gross–well, that’s way grosser. You have to promise me it won’t happen again until I’ve moved out of the house to go to college.”
So, the conversation that had begun with me anxious about trying to explain human reproduction and nervous I’d fail, ended up with me proud that my son was already planning to go to college at age 9.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Apr 6, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
I’d like to issue a formal, written and heatfelt apology to all dogs I’ve ever make beg for treats.
When I was a boy, I found it amusing and felt a sense of power and control when I could hold a tantalizing but small treat just far enough away from reach to make the innocent animal to strain to stand on his hind legs–sometimes even expecting the dog to “dance” –before finally tossing the tiny morsel in the air as a reward for my amusement.
I am truly sorry.
Now that I am an adult, I hate it when other adults I work for do this to me (figuratively speaking).
It’s awful and I hate it.
And unlike most you dogs, I’m not very good at it and don’t look very cute doing it.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Apr 5, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Life advice at 11:30pm on a Monday when no one has asked for it.
Wishing I knew more answers at this point in life but glad I have so many left to try to figure out.
It’s nice to go through life feeling you have the answers to most everything important question and that those answers need not be questioned.
It’s secure and seductive.
And there are parts of life that aren’t complicated and where plain truths are all we need to know—and simply stick to them.
But life, to me, is a mystery and we can only see through a glass, darkly for now. But we should, in my view, look and think and imagine anyway.
If I hold all the same opinions at age 50 that I had at age 25, I can’t help but feel that I haven’t asked enough of myself. And if I hold the same opinions at age 75 I held at 25,
I’m afraid I’ll feel I learned nothing in this life. And maybe even insulted God by not paying closer attention.
Does this mean go buy some self-help books or CDs? If you want. Maybe take a course. Or talk to a friend who you haven’t met yet because they are too different and may challenge your beliefs.
Or do what I’m doing now, watch and listen to The Who’s “The Seeker”. And pretend you are being deep when you are really just relaxing and unwinding. And maybe preparing to imagine something new.
Whatever you choose. I do recommend being a seeker. It’s not as scary as it seems. Each day is as mysterious as it is predictable. You can come up with rambling Facebook posts. And, best of all, the music is awesome! ; )
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Apr 4, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Much ado about nothing.
This entire episode with Jason Russell (founder of Invisible Children) crusading to make international criminal Joseph Kony famous…has been misunderstood and blown way out of proportion.
At first I, too, was stunned to read that Mr Russell was discovered near San Diego running naked in the streets, shouting nonsensically, pacing, slapping the sidewalk and interfering with traffic.
But I kept reading.
Russell is a graduate of USC (University of Southern California).
I attended USC for over a year back in the early 80’s before returning home to Louisville (and Bellarmine College).
The kind of behavior exhibited by Mr Russell was NOT abnormal for many USC students and now seems perfectly sensible to me once it has been place in its proper context.
Sure, trying to make Joseph Kony famous can make anyone a little crazy. But trying to survive the social, cultural, economic and academic pressures at USC will lead even the strong among us to regularly meltdown publicly in the Southern California area.
Jason Russell wasn’t mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted from the success of having millions of supporters cheering him to capture the world’s most infamous criminal.
He was probably merely having a flashback from his freshman hazing at USC.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Apr 3, 2012 at 12:00 PM ET
Which part of speech best characterizes you?
A video by Grammar Rock got me thinking, each part of speech has a certain personality– verbs, nouns, pronouns, adverbs, adjectives, prepositions, conjunctions, and interjections.
I would like to say I’m most like a verb—a person of action and activity.
I don’t want to be a preposition. They are sneaky trying to go over, under and around things. You can’t trust ’em.
Maybe I’m most like an conjunction today. I try to bring people together to do more than they can do separately.
OK, really I just want to post the video of Conjunction Junction. It was my favorite song by Grammar Rock. And is still pretty cool all these years later.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Apr 3, 2012 at 10:00 AM ET
Sports can bring people together. It can divide us, too.
In sports we find heroes to admire and role models who are coping with the game they play so well… in similar ways we find ourselves coping with life. But unlike us they show courage, confidence, and skill….we want to have these too. But don’t.
So we watch and try to learn. And cheer. And talk trash. And cry on the inside (and sometimes the outside too) when our team fails.
And when they win ….on a night like last night….we swell up with great pride.
Because sports also symbolizes factions, groups, and even states.
The “team” we cheer for identifies us. They represent us. When our sports team wins, we win. When our sports team is superior, we somehow feel superior. When they fail, we feel their pain and question ourselves.
They–our athletes–remind us we are not alone but part of something bigger— something more important. A community that ties us together and reinforces our worth– in some vague way. And not just our worth….but our worth among “our people.” Our tribe.
Sports is at once inherently frivolous and yet unquestionably profound. On the one hand, so arbitrary; and on the other hand, so primitive and instinctive.
We humans seem to need conflict and great causes and great battles. Athletic competition has served as a substitute for war. A tool for diplomacy during Cold War detente. And an avocation and form of entertainment during peacetime.
And last night…sports has provided about as much fun as a 4.4 million people can have sitting down. And make those same people feel a good deal prouder of about their state. And a little bit prouder of ourselves. For tonight, at least. And maybe tomorrow, too.
And you thought it was just a silly game with a ball….
Celebrity look alike?
The Shirley Temple comments ended around ages 6 or 7. And a new celebrity comparison began. Jody –from Family Affair (as in Buffy and Jody), i.e. Johnny Whitaker. Jody was a quantum leap better than Shirley….And best of all he was a male! But if I could have chosen any celebrity in Hollywood, he would have been my first choice.
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