My wife and I raised our son, Blair, with jiujitsu, wrestling, soap making and aviation.  

Born at home, Mom kept his diet simple with breast milk, Whey Advanced and sunshine.  No Baby Well Checkups, formula or juice.

We fought like hell to keep him away from sugar, high fructose corn syrup, vaccines, doctors and hospitals.  

We home schooled him through 9th grade. Too smart, he graduated early and focused on wrestling and aviation.  

His training schedule was rigorous enough to make people look twice and question my motives… he could lose 10% of his body weight in water on command. 

He never quit.  If Blair was in pain, nobody would know it…except, mom. 

…when he snapped his ACL in wrestling, he sat on the couch for three weeks until he could start rehabbing it with air squats and jogging.

When he busted his ear drum, he laid in bed for 2 days straight, not one pain killer.

Between wrestling matches, he wrote award-winning poetry that I’m not supposed to tell anyone about.

One time we flew over the Sea Of Cortez…we had a fuel leak.  With decimal point precision, we calculated the possibilities and planned for the worst.  We sat silent as we navigated our way to the nearest shoreline runway.  We had 14 minutes of fuel to spare.

There was a night flight, too.  It was the first time I saw Blair nervous.  

Heavy clouds put out the stars and the moon. At sunset, it was as if black oil painted over our windows. Visability was something to either laugh about or cry about. Turbulence tore at our airframe. Wind gusts challenged our prop performance.  

Blair sat stone faced.  After an hour of getting his nerves rattled, he looked at me calmly and asked, “Papa, how good are you at night flights?”  

I assured him, “I’m a seasoned night flight captain, son.”  He sat back calmly and fell asleep.

He tried shrooms for the first time at 16… he got lost in his bedroom, he confessed. That’s when he realized, “most of everyday life is the toxic byproduct of technology and ego.”

I made Blair’s life as challenging as possible so he could always remain true to himself and never lose pieces of his potential to vices. That's because each time a child rests into vices, he loses a piece of his responsibility...the responsibility of becoming who you were meant to be.

And through that, we became the best of friends. 

A son cannot be manufactured or even gifted through birth.  It’s something that curates carefully over time through untold experiences and memories.

Nothing can equal the treasure of shared memories, quarrels, heartfelt reconciliations and times endured under the stressors of every day life.  

A father and son relationship built slowly over time can never be reconstructed.  No fortune can buy you the experience of watching your son become strong and wise under life’s pressures.  But then there comes a time when the calendar undoes all of your work as a dad. And then you have to tell him goodbye.

The mourning that follows brings that secret grief of growing old.  This is the rent we pay as parents…dropping Blair off for college was awful, and rewarding. Awfully rewarding.

The People's Chemist was made for the family to live young.

That's where my Purity Promise came from.

As the leading provider of plant-based medicine, all of my products are free of cane sugar, artificial flavors, colors, fillers, and dye-based, synthetic capsules that are known to be harmful. Therefore, like anything in nature, every batch and product can have slight variations in color or flavor, akin to a grape or banana. Regardless, the medicinal content and value of every batch is 100% guaranteed, thanks to my 3-Step Purity Promise.

Dare to Live Young!

The People's Chemist

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