PLMG - Promised Land Music Group

04/07/2020

Some words from Ronny W

After everyone has shared their beliefs and opinions, if you live in America, you are one of the 5% of people in the world that was lucky enough to live an extraordinary life simply by virtue of your being born in the right place at the right time. Warren Buffet calls it "the ovarian lottery". If you are still certain that being an American is a sort of curse, then I wish upon you the blessing of traveling around the world and learning its history. Really. Not only will you enrich your mind and soul, but you will return to America with a profound appreciation for the life you have.

Happy 4th of July to all those in the Great USA. Being the greatest in anything is a work-in-progress, and clearly, we still have A LOT of work to do!

15/06/2020

And you will never convince me otherwise! Sorry 😘❤️

07/10/2019

A True Story: People in wheelchairs should be punished too.

I roll into the nightclub with two of my friends. The dance floor is packed with people and I sit on the side while my friends go get a drink from the bar. It’s a pain in the butt to maneuver around with a wheelchair in a high density place. As I’m looking around to spot any good looking women I am suddenly interrupted by a young guy stumbling up to me. He attempts to talk over the eardrum-piercing music. I don’t understand what the clearly drunk guy is saying, “what? I can’t hear you!” I reply.

The young guy, barely able to stand leans over me and slurs into my ear “what happened to you mannnn?”
I’m thinking to myself “oh… here we go…” and I’m already irritated. I move my head away from him and say “nothing happened bro, it’s all good”
The drunk guy leans on my shoulders with his slimy arms, slurring and drooling from his mouth, “what happened man? Tell me what happened…”
People are dancing all around us. “Bro… nothing happened, it’s all good man…” I’m not even sure he can hear me over the loud music in the club.
The drunk guy get’s down on his knees in front of me leaning with his body on my knees. His hands again on my shoulders and with his drooling face closer to mine, “please brother… it’s ok… you can tell me what happened to you…” The music is blasting in the club.
I put my hands on his shoulders and say “dude. Get out of my face”
“You can tell me brother… what happened?” He can’t hear me. I raise my voice.
“Dude. Get out of my face”
The drunk guy’s face becomes disgruntled hearing what I said. “What did you say?”
I reply, “I said GET-THE F**K-OUT OF MY FACE”
The drunk guy gets up in front of me and says “what did you just say?”
I reply, “I said GET-THE-FU…” I see a sudden flash of light and my head swings back. “That was really weird… what just happened?” I think.
The drunk guy is standing in front of me with his fists clenched and my eye is suddenly starting to get warm. “Did I just get punched in the face?”
I look around and some people in the club are clearly shocked. “I can’t believe that this piece of scum just punched a guy in a wheelchair…”
Underneath my wheelchair cushion I have a knife.
“I can’t believe that this piece of trash just punched a guy in a wheelchair…”
I look around to see where my friends are. They are standing not so far away with a dumbfounded look on their faces not even sure if they really just witnessed what they witnessed through the darkness in the nightclub. They are standing there shocked and unmoving.
I think to myself, “Trash like this needs to be taken out. I either need to put this scumbag in jail or put him in a hospital…”
I reach under my seat cushion and wrap my right hand around my knife.
“Am I really going to push this knife into this guy’s belly?”
“Am I going to be one of these people that stabs another person in a nightclub?”
“He deserves it though… and nobody else is going to do anything about this”
“I might as well serve him his justice and teach him a lesson”
The knife is in my hand still reaching underneath my seat.
“There are cameras everywhere here… I’m going to be on the news tomorrow”
The drunk guy is still standing in front of me angry and posturing with his fists clenched.
“Headline: Injured veteran stabs nightclub goer - victim in critical condition”
“I can’t let this mo********er get away with this and roam the streets… If he did this to me, he’ll do this to others”
“I can’t believe I just got punched in the face… who the hell hits a guy in a wheelchair?”
“I couldn’t defend myself Your Honor… I was afraid for my life…”
“the whole damn country will be talking about this”
“Is this what I’m going to be remembered for?”
“Am I really going to stab a man in the stomach right now?”
“No… I’m not.”
Two of the guy’s friends suddenly emerge from the crowd, grab him and quickly disappear into the nightclub.
I let go of my knife, almost thankful that his friends whisked him away from me. I turn around, and roll out of the nightclub deeply shaken, sad and disturbed.
“I can’t believe I just got punched in the face… who the hell hits a guy in a wheelchair?”
“I can’t believe I just got punched in the face… who the hell hits a guy in a wheelchair?”
“I can’t believe I just got punched in the face… who the hell hits a guy in a wheelchair?”
“I can’t believe I just got punched in the face… who the hell hits a guy in a wheelchair?”

For the next month… every 15 minutes I have the thought, “I can’t believe I just got punched in the face… who the hell hits a guy in a wheelchair?”
I go to a store and purchase a steel telescopic police baton that folds into a small sized handle. I find a place where I can connect it onto my wheelchair anywhere I go. “The next time I encounter a guy like this, I will deal him my justice and I’ll at least break his knees… the bastard can limp for the rest of his life and wish he’d never hit someone…”
throughout the weeks to come, something is still not right with me. I am disturbed. I’m disempowered. I’m weak and I’m powerless… even with my new bone-crushing baton, I’m still a victim. I’m still powerless… I have to take responsibility for this somehow.
“How can I be responsible for this? Who the hell hits a guy in a wheelchair?!” I have to take responsibility for this somehow.
I begin to look at what happened. Why did this happen to me? He asked me what happened. I said get out of my face. He asked me again what happened. Why didn’t I just tell him what happened? I told him to get the f**k out of my face. Why did I have to be a smart ass? He was drunk… why did I have to be a tough guy and curse at him? Why did I use aggressive language with him? That’s not nice... even if he’s an annoying drunk, why would I curse at someone? I can understand how he could be offended. I was literally being offensive to him! Boom… Be offensive and I might get hit in the eye. I guess that makes sense doesn’t it? Pull a dog’s tail, it might bite you. Curse out a random person after they expressed interest in your wellbeing… you might get punched. If I had just spoken to the man honorably, and hadn’t been a jerk, I would have never gotten punched in the face! I laughed.
I guess he’s the one who did justice with me!

Life Lesson: It doesn’t matter who you think you are, whether you’re the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, or you’re in a wheelchair, or you’re a mom or you’re a bus driver. We are all human beings, and if you speak and act dishonorably, the world has a right to dishonor you back. No excuses. Be descent. Be kind. Honor people no matter who they are, what they think, what their beliefs and politics are, even if they're drunk or deranged or mentally ill. Always be responsible for your speaking. Speak with Honor and Speak with Kindness.

(The black eye in this photo has been photoshopped and this story happened about 10 years ago)

23/10/2018

Miraculous Music. No less.

01/10/2018