Marshall Ramsey

People ask me what cartoon is my favorite cartoon — and most days, it’s one I didn’t even draw. It’s of a miner digging for diamonds — but who gives up right before he strikes the motherlode.

Why is it my favorite? I think of that when I am tired and am thinking about quitting. I think of it when I think of what I’m going to do next. I think of it when I get up and push when I don’t want to.

Living in Mississippi, I see people working amazingly hard everyday. I see farmers out working their fields and workers who are balancing two and even three jobs to make things meet. They quietly keep fighting. I’m sure there are days when they’d like to give up because it’s too hard, too. But they don’t — because they can’t and because they’re too strong to quit.

I do a lot of things. Some better than others. And I used to believe that they all would lead me to that motherlode. But after this week — a week where I gave a bucket-list speech to TEDx, flew in a P-51D Mustang, signed books in two of the best bookstores in America, did a radio show, filmed for my TV show and traveled around the state — I figured something out:

The work itself is the motherlode.

I’m not sure what the future will bring. But I’m going to quit worrying about it so much. I’m just going to keep digging and enjoying the ride. The diamonds surround me.

1. It’s one of the best events in the state. Not just because it is a series of great presentations (it is), but because of the conversations and relationships built during the breaks. The talent in the audience alone should make Mississippi very proud. I hope great things for Mississippi come out of this meeting of the minds.

2. The organizers did a fantastic job organizing the event. I emceed last year’s — and it was a good show. But this year’s ran even smoother. Kudos to my radio partner Rita B. Brent​ for doing a great job keeping the show going as emcee. She’s a major talent and has a bright career ahead of her. Everyone involved from the speakers to the organizers to the sponsors should be very proud of themselves this morning.

3. Every speech was great in it’s own way. The quality was strong all the way across the board. Once again, Mississippi should be very proud. It was as goods as any TED event I’ve ever seen. Period.

4. Jim Barksdale is a very humble speaker — but listening to him talk about his career left me in awe.

5. I walked out of there with at least 100 good ideas for my career. But the main thing I am going to do is become a better listener. That’s really the secret to being a good salesperson.

6. I am a terrible judge of my own speaking, but according to the organizers, the speech coach and audience and social media feedback, I nailed it. I’ll admit, I was nervous — mainly because I was one of the last speakers and had all day to think about it. But I loved all the laughter, people quoting me on Twitter and the applause. I’ve given hundreds of speeches and feel like they led up to yesterday. I can’t wait to get the YouTube clip and post it for you to see.

7. I look forward to next year’s TEDxJackson.

“Are you nervous?”

A friend asked me that yesterday about today’s TEDx talk I’m presenting.

“Not really.” I said with a shrug. I’ve given hundreds of speeches and they all have led up to this moment. Giving a TEDx talk is bucket list stuff for me.

My bucket list has had a good week.

I thought about what topic I’d present and decided creativity was one I was qualified to talk about — and resilience. I’ve done both the past few years. In my career, I’ve drawn over 7,000 cartoons. That’s a lot of ink and ideas. I’ve been a Finalist for the Pulitzer Prize a couple of times and seen my cartoons on refrigerators around town. I’ve also written and illustrated several books. But I think the biggest change — and the one I’m going to talk about — is how to supercharge your creativity in response to this 24/7 Social Media driven world.

In the old days (AKA, before the Internet), I just had to come into the office, read the paper and wait for my muse to show up. I’d then draw the cartoon that would show up on your driveway the next morning. Now, everything is nearly instantaneous. I have to be able to punch through the wall of resistance and pull back in an idea on demand. I’m constantly writing, preparing for radio and TV, updating social media, working on illustration projects and of course, drawing cartoons. My brain is going all the time.

And it has to be.

The secret to Social Media is to be practically instantaneous with your ideas. That means you have to constantly do your homework and have your brain trained to be able to produce at the drop of a hat.

I’ll touch on that today.

But I will also talk about overcoming fear. Fear is the devil walking the earth. It and long-term stress are salt on creativity’s slug. You have to get past them. I do it through H.O.P.E. (Humor, Opportunity to Serve, Physical Fitness and Education). I overcome long-term stress by scheduling my day, not creating to-do lists. I’ve struggled with the fear of my work not being good enough. Some career setbacks unleashed that monster. But hard work and persistence helped me slay it.

Failure is only failure if you don’t get back up and learn from it.

At 4:15, I will be standing in a big red dot and living my dream. I have 18 minutes to make my mark in the world. I will take out a pen and scratch off one more thing on my life’s bucket list.

And no, I’m not nervous. I’m excited beyond words.

I’m sitting here, thinking about what I’m going to draw for this year’s Veteran’s Day cartoon. And while it is tempting to remind all of us to say “thank you” to our veterans, I can’t help but feel like I need to say more — and that we need to do more. Because saying thanks is one thing — showing it is another.

Only a very small part of population has served in combat since September 11, 2001. But the ones who have have been asked to do very difficult duty over and over again. They have seen and done things that would breaks most of us. They wrote a blank check to our country. It’s truly our national debt. And now, we have wounded warriors in our midst — and many of us are oblivious to it. We’re busy worrying about red coffee cups or who is running for president. In the meantime, brave men and women are falling through the cracks.

They need our help. Now.

We need a “No Veteran Left Behind” initiative. And I say this not as a person who has served — I haven’t. But I have a career saying and drawing what I want to because of their sacrifices. I am very appreciative.

Today, I’ll have Dan Fordice on my radio show (at 10 a.m. on MPB.) Dan is hard work creating ways to help our veterans make the transition from war to peace. It’s called the Warrior Bonfire Project and it’s worthy of you listening. Check out the show live on Mississippi Public Broadcasting​. And if you knew a veteran, say thanks. And then show your appreciation.

“Is Chainsaws & Casseroles” a cookbook?

No. It’s a book of short stories and cartoons that have a very important golden thread running through them: Some of our best moments come from our worst. The title comes from a story about a national tornado storm chaser who comes back home to his hometown after a massive storm wipes it out. He notices that before people could get out of their homes, there were church vans pulling up full of people with chainsaws and casseroles. They’d cut the trees back and then feed the survivors.

That’s who we are. That’s what we’re about.

But there are many other stories and essays in there, too (85 to be exact). Some are funny. Some are heartfelt. If you like the stories you’ve read here, you’ll love “Chainsaws & Casseroles.” And if you’ve heard one of my speeches, you’ll get the same type of hope and humor from the book, too. I’ve also included 20 cartoons. And that’s part of why I’m writing this:

Starting in a few days, I am going to start a daily cartoon panel on social media. You’ll be able to find it on my Facebook fan page (linked to here), Twitter and Instagram. And yes, you’ll still be able to enjoy my editorial cartoons in The Clarion-Ledger. But this will be in addition to that. I’ve had requests for more cartoons. Well, here you go.

In the meantime, pick up a copy of Chainsaws & Casseroles. I’ve already heard some good initial reviews from people who have already gotten the book. How can you do that?

Tuesday, I’ll be signing at Lemuria Books in Jackson at 5 p.m. Stop by and get a copy. Next Saturday, I’ll be at Square Books in Oxford at noon. On Sunday, I’ll be in Starkville at Book Mart & Cafe in Starkville at noon as well. Stop by and I’ll personalize a copy of “Chainsaws & Casseroles” and will draw in it for you as well.

Thanks and I hope you enjoy the book and continue to enjoy what I write here.

Banjo had three families and we were his last. When he passed away, Amy and I knew his amazing spirit had to live on in some form. That’s why I created the book Banjo’s Dream. Today, as Mistletoe Marketplace was winding down, a little boy came walking by our booth. He pointed up at the book and yelled, “BANJO!!!!!” He yelled it over and over. His mother said he loved the book and read it every night.

Banjo’s never belonged to just us. And he will never truly die. I’m proud that his spirit lives on in the heart of that little boy and so many other children.

Good dog.

Christmas music blared as Mistletoe Marketplace shoppers streamed past where I was signing books. An older gentleman walked up and held out his hand. It shook as it reached toward mine.

I smiled. It was George.

Two years earlier we had met in almost similar situation. Back then, he had told me of his cancer battles and we shared our stories with each other. Now two years later, the disease had weakened him even more. Bi-monthly chemo and age were taking its toll as well.

But while his body is weak, his spirit is stronger than ever. At over 80 years old, George is more alive than I am at half his age.

He spoke about how cancer had made him a more powerful witness for the Lord. I listened intently to George’s testimony. His words, calm and powerful, seemed to come from someplace else. As I signed his book, he spoke how he shared his faith with people of other faiths. And how their faiths had shaped him. “At the end, we’re so similar.” He spoke of love, compassion and empathy. Cancer has humbled George. It has stripped him down to his soul’s foundation. Yet on that foundation, he has rebuilt a stronger faith.

Some people go to Mistletoe Marketplace to get into the Christmas spirit. They buy presents, listen to music and shop for presents. But standing in the middle of the Trademart, I received a greater gift: I discovered what Christmas spirit truly meant.

I shook George’s hand again, handed him his book and watched as he walked toward the cash register. I knew in my heart that I probably would never see him again. But somehow I thought I might – It just wouldn’t be at Mistletoe. I smiled as the next customer walked up. I started to write and paused — I wanted to see George one last time.

He was nowhere in sight. The angel of Mistletoe was gone.

Angels we have on heard high
Sweetly singing ore the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echo back their joyous strains

Gloria in excelsis Deo
Gloria in excelsis Deo

I’m excited, nervous and proud right now. I have over 80 boxes of my new book, Chainsaws & Casseroles to sell. Like running a race, I’m at the starting line. I’ve trained for months (writing and drawing for the book) and now I’m ready to go. The starter pistol has gone off and I’m slowly getting the books to where they need to be. The race runs until after Christmas.

I pray the book is a success. I hope it is under many, many Christmas trees this year.

Fried Chicken & Wine was. Banjo’s Dream did well, too. This book is personal for me — so I want it to soar. If you’ve ever heard me speak, this book could be described as one of my speeches in book form. There are short stories like FCW. But there are also cartoons and essays. It’s my philosophy “Your worst moments turn into your best” with a dust jacket on it. It’s a philosophy that Banjo taught me in his own way.

I’m eating my Wheaties. Mistletoe begins Wednesday night (for the Gala) and then I will be signing books like crazy until the final announcement Saturday night. Next week (on Tuesday) will be my first official book signing at Lemuria Books. And then it is off to the races. I told my wife and kids that they’d see me in January. I’m only partially kidding.

Speaking of kids, my middle son said, “The book’s good, Dad. I read some of it last night.”

That’s a review that means the world to me.

Woke this morning and fear was staring me in the face. It was a cold stare — one that chilled me to the bone. The alarm had just gone off and the clock glowed 4:02 a.m. Fatigue walked around fear and held me down on the bed. I struggled to get out of bed.

But I did.

See, fear is the devil walking this earth. It lies to you. It seduces you. Sure, sometimes it is a good thing — you don’t want to dive off your roof or shoot bottle rockets at your face. But a lot of times it tries to take over. It whispers in your ear that it is OK to quit. It tells you that you’re tired. It convinces you that you will fail. Fear sucks the breath out of your dreams. You’re left alone in your comfort zone to wither and die.

So I put both of my feet on the floor and went to my bootcamp. It was a tough day and I struggled because of many things on my mind. But at the very end, when we had four 100-yard runs, I got in a footrace with fear. And I’m proud to say, I left it in my dust.

For five years, I’ve faced some pretty big uncertainty. But that uncertainty has led to amazing rewards. I think about that when I get that familiar knot in my stomach. I take deep meditative breaths and plan to do the very thing that fear hates the most: I get busy.

Just like I did this morning. I got busy. At 4:02 a.m., fear tried to stare me down. And I’m proud to say, it blinked first.