Thats Word Im Not The Herb

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This website is using a security service to protect itself from online attacks. The action you just performed triggered the security solution. There are several actions that could trigger this block including submitting a certain word or phrase, a SQL command or malformed data. By accepting all cookies, you agree to our use of cookies to deliver and maintain our services and site, improve the quality of Reddit, personalize Reddit content and advertising, and measure the effectiveness of advertising. The song was produced by Mathematics, and samples “Wish That I Could Talk to You” by The Sylvers, “Synthetic Substitution” by Melvin Bliss, “Funky President” by James Brown, “Nobody Beats the Biz” by Biz Markie, and dialogue from “Shaolin Rescuers”.A flowering plant whose stem does not produce woody tissue and generally dies back at the end of each growing season. Both grasses and forbs are herbs.

Our Beauty Rest Tea, a mixture of CBD and herbs like chamomile and calendula that promote a sense of calm and help promote a nice sense of sleep, was the first product to sell out.

I’m basically a universal songwriter. I also dabble a bit with Spoken Word poetry as well as Hip Hop, Rock, Country, Jazz, etc. Overall, I’d say that I’m looking to work with just about anyone positive (especially anyone who needs a lyricist).Menick repeated this process for all 50 states and the District of Columbia. He was appearing in character as Herb, Burger King’s latest pitchman. Aside from his outmoded fashion sense, Herb was notable for being just about the only man in the country who had never eaten a Whopper. Months of print and television ads had teased Herb’s existence; his “family” and “friends” were interviewed, discussing this blight on their existence. The idea of a man who had never succumbed to the pleasures of a grilled fast-service burger was presented as proportionate to a man who had never tasted an orange or experienced a full moon.

With the merits of their food a subjective discussion, both franchises leaned heavily on ad campaigns to try and pull in more stomachs. Wendy’s hit big with their “Where’s the Beef?” campaign of 1984, in which an elderly woman named Clara seemed disappointed by the lack of meat in the competition’s burgers.One adolescent, Jason Hallman of Alabama, was 15 when he spotted Herb in March 1986. Burger King gave his 16-year-old friend the $5000 instead. Hallman’s parents complained, with the Alabama state senate weighing in. They labeled Burger King’s actions as approaching “consumer fraud” because they had failed to make the age minimum a prominent part of the rules. Another juvenile disqualified from the prize in Reno was awarded the $5000 by the local operator.The following year, patrons were no longer on the hunt for Herb, but falling over themselves to locate a far more popular attraction. Burger King had just shipped eight million ALF puppets to stores. Burger King needed a Clara of their own. Ad agency J. Walter Thompson pitched them on the idea of a man who had committed the mortal sin of never tasting a Whopper. A pariah, he’d be spoken of in hushed tones by his associates. After toying with names like Oscar and Mitch, the agency settled on Herb. “Who’s Herb?” was slated to become the company’s campaign focus for late 1985. Though Burger King never openly discussed it, plans were already underway to cast an actor as Herb for phase two of the campaign. After spending two months and $40 million on the ads, America would finally get to see the real thing.When he debuted during Super Bowl XX, there was a collective sigh of disappointment. Herb was a nerd who didn’t appear to possess many charming qualities. During a “press conference,” he admitted he tried a burger at Burger King and loved it. It wasn’t exactly a startling plot twist. Two months of pent-up curiosity resulted in a mass exodus of interest on the part of burger aficionados.That May, Burger King ended any further mention of Herb, turning their advertising focus to “real people” who enjoyed their menu items. Then-company president Jay Darling admitted Herb “did not work nearly as well” as he had expected.

Burger King was certain Herb would help cut into the market share held by their perennial rivals at McDonald’s. And while he was, for a time, one of the most easily identifiable faces on television thanks to that cash reward, he would also prove to be what Advertising Age would later declare the biggest promotional flop of the decade. Recognizing Herb was not quite the same as liking him.The ad agency began by putting cryptic ads in newspapers that didn’t name Burger King or offer much of a hint of the direction they were taking. “It’s not too late, Herb,” read one; “What are you waiting for, Herb?” read another. In one instance, a man with the same first name who owed money to loan sharks saw the ads and thought he was being personally targeted.

For 25 days in the winter of 1986, Jon Menick traveled the country. He would be ushered into a Burger King franchise location by his handlers, loitering until someone recognized his olive-green jacket and high-water pants. He’d wait for them to say hello, at which point he’d stick out his hand and tell them they’d just won $5000.From there, J. Walter Thompson rolled out a series of television spots featuring Herb’s shamed relatives. A kind of viral ad before the concept of viral marketing existed, people began to speculate about Herb: his likes, dislikes, what he looked like, and why he had never delighted his intestines with a Whopper. People who marched into a Burger King and announced “I’m not Herb” could get a burger for 99 cents. Overall store sales spiked by 10 percent.

Brantley and Saleh’s anxiety was unwarranted. Among the eight competing teams, they were the only ones with an actual business, a wellness company called Herb Girls, and Rally was already selling well in Athens, where they lived. More broadly, by 2019, adaptogens were starting to get noticed in the United States. The New York Times and Wall Street Journal were publishing articles about them, social media influencers were raving about them, and the herbs were appearing in trendy smoothie bars in Los Angeles and boutique apothecaries in New York City. The fact that adaptogens—like all herbal remedies in this country—haven’t been approved by the Food and Drug Administration or otherwise embraced by Western science didn’t concern Brantley, at least not on that day. The role, perception, and legitimacy of herbal medicine in the United States was a long-term issue she hoped to spend the rest of her career trying to shape and influence. But on that day in Studio 225, the important thing was simply being there and putting Rally to the test in the marketplace of ideas.The fact that Brantley ended up in the medicinal herb world comes as no surprise. She grew up on a 40-acre farm in Franklin, Tennessee, outside of Nashville. The farm was mostly a hobby for her father, a structural engineer, and her mother, a former nurse. But they had goats and pigs and grew fruits and vegetables, and Brantley spent most of her childhood romping in the dirt and having adventures. Her other obsession was her mother’s medical books, within which—with her mother’s blessing—she liberally doodled and drew pictures.There have been a handful of scientific studies suggesting that adaptogens can lower stress. But Western science is a long way from declaring that adaptogens can do what practitioners claim. Brantley wants to change that. “My ultimate goal is for herbalism to receive the respect it deserves in this country,” she says. “It has been misrepresented.” She means misrepresented at both ends. While some scientists call herbalism voodoo, some practitioners are selling snake oil because they can, because herbal products aren’t regulated by the FDA. Brantley’s master’s research revealed that roughly 90 percent of herbs used in herbal remedies are grown in China and India, two countries with centuries-old experience with herbalism and with populations that know and respect what medicinal herbs can do. Those same herbs could all be grown in the United States, Brantley says, but that won’t happen until this country respects the practice. “I understand the skepticism,” she says. “But if you take a closer look and open your mind and try an herbal protocol, if you consistently work with the right person, if you use the right doses, you’re going to feel something really, really positive.”Instead, she did a certification program in permaculture design at the Urban Farm School, part of the Asheville Institute in North Carolina. “I worried I would disappoint my parents, turning down a Ph.D. program for hippie school,” Brantley says. “I was like, ‘Is this stupid?’ But they were totally supportive.” After working on a medicinal herb farm for seven months during the program, she realized “the beast had been fed.” Herbs were now her life.

Brantley as an undergraduate in a Sewanee biology class in Shakerag Hollow. “Most of my classes at Sewanee were outside,” she says. “I didn’t realize how special that was until later.”After graduating, Brantley accepted an internship in the Organic Prayer Project at the Community of St. Mary, a Benedictine convent in Sewanee. She spent the next year praying and working in the convent’s herb and vegetable gardens. It was her first significant exposure to herbs. She learned a lot growing and harvesting lavender, much of which ended up in the bath products of Thistle Farms in Nashville, a nonprofit that employs survivors of sexual abuse; but she also read every herb book she could get her hands on. She was so enamored with these plants and their potential that when, a year later, she secured an assistantship in the soil science Ph.D. program at UGA, she turned it down. There was another factor in that decision. All her life she had suffered from gastrointestinal pain that doctors never could diagnose. The pain worsened with the academic stress she experienced in college and ultimately led to an eating disorder. “My year at the convent was a sharp contrast to the busy world of academics,” she says. “There was a lot of time to reflect and heal. I realized academia really wasn’t that healthy for me.”Uncles and cousins had attended Sewanee, but Brantley figured the school was too small and too close to home, and besides, she dreamed of studying marine biology in California. But during a campus tour that included a hike along the Perimeter Trail, she fell in love with the place. “There was something about the Cumberland Plateau,” she says. “I’m not sure if it was the landscape or the biodiversity or what, but it felt like I had been there before.” She majored in ecology and biodiversity, and minored in religion. In Bran Potter’s Walk the Land class, she and classmates would read transcendentalism, go hiking off-trail on the Domain, get lost, do a bit of journaling, and end up engrossed in some riveting discussion about nature. She took all of Gerald Smith’s religion classes. She spent time on St. Catherines Island off the Georgia coast as part of Sewanee’s Island Ecology Program. “Most of my classes at Sewanee were outside,” she says. “I didn’t realize how special that was until later when I learned about other people’s college experiences.” Her junior year, Brantley was president of the Earth Keepers Club, an organization focused on religion and nature. Club members would read some Thoreau or Emerson, or maybe a poem, and then discuss it. Sometimes they took silent, meditative walks in the woods. As president, Brantley quickly grew the club from five members to about 50. “I talk a lot, and I’m enthusiastic, so I just told everyone what we’re doing,” she says. “If you’re doing cool stuff and talking about interesting things, the word will spread.” Things quickly seemed to go sideways not long into her five-minute presentation when one of the judges, Keith Kelly, said, “That sounds awful!” after Brantley detailed the ingredients in Rally (chicory root extract, dandelion root extract, lucuma powder, reishi extract, ashwagandha extract, cinnamon powder, cardamom powder). But Brantley was prepared for this. She and Saleh simply offered the three judges frothy, Rally-infused lattes on the spot. The judges loved them. They also loved the overall idea of Rally, so much so they declared Brantley and Saleh the winners of the competition and handed them an oversized check for $2.500. Kelly, who owns numerous agribusiness brands and manufacturing businesses, was so taken with the pitch that the three decided to go into business together. Brantley and Saleh joined Kelly Products and have since worked alongside the team there to build the brand. “Our whole goal is to promote the proper use and understanding of adaptogens and herbs more generally,” Brantley says. “Now we had this exciting new platform to do that.” In March 2019, Eileen Schaeffer Brantley, C’13, and her business partner, Amy Saleh, arrived at Studio 225 on the University of Georgia campus for a Shark Tank-like competition against seven other teams of budding entrepreneurs. The studio was home to UGA’s Entrepreneurship Program, and the women immediately felt intimidated. The space was sleek and ultramodern, and the competition were mostly guys in business suits pitching ideas with a decided man-cave-meets-tailgate vibe to them. One team was presenting a Yeti-like beverage cooler. Another was pushing the latest, greatest barbecue sauce. In short, it was bro heaven. Brantley and Saleh, meanwhile, wore flower-print dresses, a hint that they preferred digging in the garden to schmoozing in shiny venues like this. And the product they were pitching was, well, choose your adjective: “alternative,” “hippie,” “crunchy.” The women are certified clinical herbalists and the product they would present that day was called Rally, a coffee additive designed to prevent the post-caffeine crash many people experience come mid-afternoon. The powder features adaptogens, a class of herbs said to interact with the nervous, endocrine, and immune systems to reduce stress levels and maintain energy.Over the next few years, she worked a series of herb-related jobs and completed more certifications. She landed an AmeriCorps position in Nashville with the Urban Green Lab, an 18-wheeler converted into an environmental science lab that travels from school to school, educating kids on everything from composting to green energy. She attended the Blue Ridge School of Herbal Medicine in Asheville, where she processed herbs and learned how to make tinctures in the apothecary. She worked at the only herb shop in Athens. She completed an online degree from the Nutritional Therapy Association, and she banged out a master’s degree in agribusiness from UGA, writing her capstone on medicinal herb production in the United States. Along the way she met her husband, Andrew Brantley, an Athens-based musician, as well as Saleh, with whom she founded Herb Girls. The company’s mission was primarily educational. It offered plant walks, classes on making tinctures, and lessons in detoxification. It also sold a line of adaptogen-infused products like Rally and various teas.

Herb managed to do well for a while, but coming into the 1990s, his vision condition worsened. Now people noticed. He retired from law enforcement following a 28-year career in 1990. His family decided that he needed to engage in volunteer work, and right about that time he attended the Grand Opening of the Library and Resource Center at the Department for the Blind and Vision Impaired on Azalea Avenue in Richmond. While he was there, he stopped by the Open House that the Virginia Rehabilitation Center for the Blind was holding next door. He and his wife, Chris, took a self-guided tour that day, and met a few people along the way, thereby starting a long and close relationship with DBVI.

He walked into shrubbery, ditches, and whatever else happened to be in his way. Then, he noticed problems with his peripheral or side vision decreasing. He had it checked out and was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa (RP), more commonly known as tunnel vision. Only one or two people knew at the time, and since he was still able to work, he did not speak of it.He has no regrets. When he thinks back on the days at the Center, Herb says that he “enjoyed working with the people there … it was like a family. It was good for me to be with people because I always worked with people. I learned, they learned. That was important to me. I met a lot of interesting people. I met a lot of good people.“

Enter Herb Patterson, the quintessential good guy. While Herb, in his words, did not “rescue maidens’, he said that knights were known to help people out.

Now, Herb spends a great deal of time writing and communicating with the friends he has collected over the years. He shares his memoirs from the years he had dedicated to police work, and from the many experiences he has had working with blind individuals. He sends a newsletter to his retired police colleagues, to the widows of deceased officers, and to the blind veterans at the V.A. Hospital. He has never stopped helping others.Eventually, as is characteristic of RP, Herb’s vision worsened, and after 10 years of volunteering at the Center, he had to stop. He continued to work on refurbishing computers until approximately 10 years ago, when he hung up his tool belt.

They were the good guys. So that was what he wanted to do. Help people out. Herb’s story started almost 40 years ago when he was a police officer in Henrico County. The police force worked shifts at the time, and Herb found that when he worked the night shift, he had trouble seeing.

They seldom think that there just may be a knight in shining armor living amongst us today. The knight may not have on a metal suit, or ride a white horse, but he is here nevertheless.Advertisement cookies are used to provide visitors with relevant ads and marketing campaigns. These cookies track visitors across websites and collect information to provide customized ads.

Like magic, Ben’s 2004 Mitsubishi Fuso Canter pops up all over the place and is “‘transcendentally dimensional”’ —– or, at least it feels a lot bigger on the inside than it looks from the outside. “People are often surprised by how much I’ve managed to fit in here,” says Ben, who has used every inch of the 16sqm box body with inventive efficiency. “They love the whole concept.”

“I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I’m pretty practical and I have a side hustle in graphic design, so I just figured it out as I went, fitting all the hardware myself and then making sure it looked dope.”

Working alone during New Zealand’s Covid lockdown, Ben stripped the old components and rigged up a solar unit to power an electric fan, music system and payment terminal, plus a diesel heater with floor vents.He moved to Wellington in 2012 and reopened Evil Genius, followed by Death Ray Records in 2014 “but the rent just got too expensive and, eventually, I had to close.” Ben spent seven months looking for the right truck before the 2004 Canter 4×2 appeared on an auction site. “It had been used as a clothes store and was full of heavy cabinetry and steel rails, but it had a single-entrance door, which I wanted for security, a futon for sleeping in overnight and a skylight to let natural light in. Each box is an eclectic mix of off-the-beaten-track sonic adventures, covering everything from swamp rock and psychobilly to epic synth-inspired space jams and music that is just too hard to pigeonhole —– and all the better for it!The wooden crates are a nod to classic Kiwi culture (an unofficial national holiday involves sharing a crate of beer on the first Saturday in December to mark the start of summer), but they also work perfectly to hold the stash of vinyl in Ben’s collection. “It looked perfect, but because it was in Auckland, I couldn’t check it out myself or even find a mechanic willing to go and give it a closer inspection. I just had to take the seller at their word.” He also has a collection of esoteric Japanese artists and soundtracks, along with some Nintendo and Sega games that reflect his childhood and ongoing interest in Japanese culture.Ben prefers to promote lesser-known bands such as Wellington-based Orchestra of Spheres, which he describes as “an exploration of energies and atmospheres, from intense futuristic funk to windswept reflections from a far-flung corner of the world.”“I opened Evil Genius Records in Christchurch in 2011. Seven days later, a major earthquake destroyed the shop and everything in it,” Ben recalls. “My insurance application was still being processed at the time, so I wasn’t covered for any of it.”Functional cookies help to perform certain functionalities like sharing the content of the website on social media platforms, collect feedbacks, and other third-party features.

“I’ve got a few ideas for the future, I might even have to get a bigger truck at some point, but it’s good for now. I’ve grown pretty attached to the Canter, and I never expected to make my fortune doing this. It was always a lifestyle choice; about visiting different communities, meeting new people and hopefully bringing a bit of joy into their lives. I’ll keep going while it’s still fun!”Ben flew to Auckland to collect the Canter and drove it 650km back to Wellington, with an overnight stop at Lake Taupō. “It was a bit slow going, but otherwise it drove like a dream.”

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Analytical cookies are used to understand how visitors interact with the website. These cookies help provide information on metrics the number of visitors, bounce rate, traffic source, etc.“I’ve always liked the way Japanese musicians put their unique spin on things; also the technology and crazy animation. It’s awesome! I’d love to visit one day.” For now, Ben is enjoying putting his own Kiwi spin on a Japanese classic.

The idea for a store on wheels materialized after two previous ventures were thwarted by the bricks and mortar they were housed in —– in more ways than one.This is how it goes with real clients. They give you a briefing, then you do your own research too, digging deeper and immersing yourself in the product or service.

I feel I’m coming full circle. At seventeen I started writing copy for a newspaper, became a reporter and feature writer, sold advertising, and became a rancher and teacher along the way. Here I am, relearning the world of copy writing because the computer wasn’t even invented when I started!