The Unsinkable brian cork™

Brian Patrick Cork is living the Authentic Life

understanding that was Awkward


I understand that readers of this Blog look for life changing, if not globe affecting, punditry. At least this is what I gleam from what you tell me in person, through comments, emails and the odd mail box bomb.

I interact daily with people that, in some form or fashion, change the world. Some times (and, always hopefully) for good. I get to wage commerce in-and-amongst them, offer advice, and from time-to-time, get to be taken seriously. For that I get to be referred to as a Cultural Architect and run point through organizations like the, certainly far from self-effacing (but pointedly paranoid) Prudent Society of Optimistic Gentlemen. Being a Prudent Gentlemen has both it’s rewards as incredible demands – mostly in terms of demands and expectations around a service and commitment to community.

With that said, I most often view myself as a Dad first. I do train fiercely for extreme and adventure races (but, I love training more than racing). I also get to be a youth soccer coach. And, I am pretty good at all of those things.

Then again, sometimes I am just an oaf.

Realizing this – and, discussing it on such a public platform, such as this Blog, is crucial to my own development, as well as yours because it keeps (perhaps it puts) so many things into perspective.

I also understand that this is shaping up to be quite a dramatic and verbose (nothing entirely new from that view point) prologue for my point.

Of course, there is a story.

So… As readers know I am decidedly no stranger to Starbucks. Every barista from Alpharetta to Peachtree City knows my beverage of choice: Vente Ice Chai – nine (seriously) pumps of chai, one pump vanilla with whole milk.

Facing a day with naught less than empire building prospects, I broke my “one chai a day” rule and popped into a SBUX near my offices on the way back from the UPS Store (how is it our offices are a catalyst and spawning ground for dynamic change yet bereft of legal size envelopes?). I strode through the door and was met with the usual “BRIAN” from the crew.  On the rare occasions when I actually have to pay, I don’t have to state my order and it’s always prepared and ready in expedited fashion.

In any event, one of the Barista’s at this particular SBUX is a rather quiet young gal that I suspect has few ambitions in life other than not falling asleep at the wheel. You will understand when I manage “cow” as part of the description. “Simple” comes to mind. My family in England my use the descriptor “thick”.

I understand this is cruel But, this is coming from a fellow (me) that will do anything to inspire his daughters to reflect and represent only the best our genetic coding can muster on any given day (have I shamelessly boasted regaled you recently about how well Haley Anne is doing in public school – having emerged successfully from the ranks of the home schooled, and in soccer, where, as a formidable defender she demonstrates both her will and domain over hapless forwards? Or, how brilliant Emma Jo is in terms of her art and keen insight?).

I digress in parallel with setting myself up.

However, given all my chest-thumping arrogance and notions of, generalized superiority, this stage-setting is relevant.

I had come to the conclusion that this gal was pregnant. Time often throws itself into a vortex for me. Entire months can come-and-go as the world moves slowly around me. Well, her belly had apparently begun it’s expansion last year some time. But, I would swear that I asked her when she was due only last month, and she told me October. Every time I see her I inquire about how she is feeling; her due date; and add how great it is to be a parent.

Okay… This gal had Barista duty today and was moving like she was in a fog (while manning the cash register she reads every button like a First Grade Dick and Jane book). As I awaited my chai at the stand observing her titanic struggle with a cloth hopelessly pitted against a growing puddle of milk and some frothy substance, I asked her (ironically, I might add in a tragic sense) if she was ready to be a Mom.

“I already am a Mom”, she responded.

“Cool. Are you ready to be a Mom again?”

“No. I’m not going to be a Mom again.”

“Well… When your baby comes, won’t that make you a Mom again, in a manner of speaking?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Okay. So, when is this one due?”

“It’s not.”

“Lets try it this way… When do you give birth?”


Reader – have you heard of the phrase Cow Tipping?

She had gained quite a bit of weight by my estimate. And, I found myself both unsettled and concerned about how realistic the “cow” thing just might play itself out. I did some quick calculating and made out that was seven months away. This was either going to be the longest pregnancy of record, or I was really missing something.

“So… You are having another baby?”


“What happens in March?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does you having a baby have to do with March?”

“That’s when I had my baby.”

So… There I was a bit flat-footed, and not feeling like much of a card-carrying MENSA at the moment.

After something of a pregnant pause, if you will, she looked at me and asked:

“Do I look pregnant?”

Once again, faced with an Kobayashi Maru.


When I tell Joanne this story she will simply opine: “It was just none of your business”. She might add: “You were being an ass”.

IN celebration of own ly lack of demonstrated genius this day, let’s go with a poll and stir up some controversy:

Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

Brian Patrick Cork


What’s All This About?

"What am I looking at?", you might wonder.

Lots of stuff.

Meanwhile, here, I discuss events, people and things in our world - and, my (hardly simplistic, albeit inarticulate) views around them.

You'll also learn things about, well, things, like people you need to know about, and information about companies you can't find anywhere else.

So, while I harangue the public in my not so gentle way, you will discover that I am fascinated by all things arcane, curious about those whom appear religious, love music, dabble in politics, loathe the media, value education, still think I am an athlete, and might offer a recipe.

All the while, striving mightily, and daily, to remain a prudent and optimistic gentleman - and, authentic.

brian cork by John Campbell

photos by John Campbell


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