AMBIT ENERGY ADVENTURES, Part I: Orange is My New Favorite Color


I have never been a wearer of “orange”. With my “winter” coloring — fair with cool tones, –I  have preferred jewel colors: sapphire blue, emerald green, amethyst purple, ruby red, and even raven black. Orange, the color of pumpkins and all things autumn, drains my face of color and makes me look tired.

At least that was what I thought until Jeff and I attended an Ambit Energy meeting at the Botanical Gardens, in Fort Worth, last Tuesday. When we were surrounded  by cheerful, orange Ambit logos, I began re-thinking orange. Already satisfied Ambit electricity customers, we joined our consultant, Rick, and his wife, Darleen, at a meeting. Rick had persisted in telling my husband that he ought to become a consultant, but, for some reason, the time had not been right.

That was, until after the Tuesday meeting. Watching people receive their Regional, Senior, Executive, and National Consultant pins, I was so pumped by their “Whys” — their impassioned reasons for joining Ambit — and the range of backgrounds from realtors, business owners, nurses, and teachers, that I convinced Jeff that it would be stupid for us not to become consultants, given the ten-year-old company’s leadership and sterling reputation.

After the meeting, Rick and Darlene bubbled over about an annual Ambit rally called Simulcast 2016, that would take place at the Verizon Theater that Saturday. Thousands would attend, both in Texas and New York and thousands more would be watching the event online. Only consultants could attend.

The next night, before I met my first class, Jeff texted me.  He had signed us up as consultants. Depending on how hard we were willing to work, we could earn extra pocket change by picking up a few new customers here and there, or we could become eligible to take five-star trips with other consultants. I could write. We could move  to Rockport, as we have dreamed of doing. Most importantly, I could retire on my own time, rather than someone else’s.

On Saturday, we attended Simulcast ’16, Ambit Energy’s pep rally between Texas and New  York. Heading it up were Ambit’s co-founders, Jere Thompson, Jr., whose family founded Seven-Eleven stores, and Chris Chambless, Marketing Executive. Between Grand Prairie, Texas and Utica, New York, consultants of all ranks — Regional, Senior, Executive, and National — and  yellow-jacketed Millionaires  — shared their stirring stories. Each encouraged us even more. During the feverish four-hour rally, we waved orange and white Simulcast “balloons” and orange pom-poms and scribbled copious notes in specially designed, spiral-bound Ambit notebooks with silver Ambit Energy pens.

When the event was over, our team gathered at Humperdinck’s to eat, drink, and celebrate and inspire each other, remind each other of future meetings, and rev each other up for Ambition 2016, Ambit’s four-day conference in Dallas, Texas in August

As new consultants, Jeff and I know we have a lot of training to go through, mostly online, but now that we have received our official consultant package, including our own website, business cards, and a flip-chart, we are starting to feel official. Maybe with some of our residual income from bringing in consultants and customers, we can invest in orange tee-shirts which I aim to wear with Ambit pride.

So, curious friends, this is my question to you. Are you willing to let us show you how to save money on your energy needs? And would you like to find out how you can earn residual income? If your answer is “yes” to one or both of these proposals, Jeff and I would love to welcome you to our growing Ambit team or add you to the numbers of satisfied Ambit customers.

When you’re ready. we’ll be waiting for you in our tee-shirts of invigorating Ambit orange.



CARS, COMPUTERS, AND CASH: My Top-Three “Necessary Evils”


What things do you most hate to be without? Contraptions and gizmos that, when they work, you’re in love. And, when they go kablooey, you curse the day you ever discovered them? Well, my three are cars, computers, and cash. As David Letterman used to do, I’ll present these from least to most.

Number-threecars. You love when they run.  You fire up the engine, crank up the tunes, slide open the sun roof, and go, go, go. That is, until the needle on the gas gauge hovers below that red “check fuel” zone. Unless you want to walk twenty, ten, or even five miles to work, you gotta swing by the pump. Then, sooner or later,  those pesky tires and batteries rear their heads and twiddle their thumbs, waiting for you to deal with them. And, lest we forget, those annoying inspection and registration reminder.As the late Gilda Radner always said in her Roseanne Roseanna Anna Danna persona: “It’s always something!”

Number two: computers — the second biggest object of my affection/disgust: computers. And why are cars less annoying than computers? Because even if your car breaks down and you are stuck at home, you can always crack open that trusty laptop. Or can you?  Included in this category are printers, particularly the wireless ones, iPhones and I-anything-elses. As a college professor, I can count on my wireless printer to develop Alzheimers at three major times of the semester: the beginning,  the middle, and the end. Around our house, printer cartridges and toner drain like sieves, and printer paper becomes precious as  gold. Before we know it, we run out.  And don’t even trip my trigger about the short life span of even the trustiest laptop. Last year, my faithful,  five-year-old Toshiba — fifth in my laptop lineage– succumbed to a killer virus that rendered the screen totally black, never to light up again. Of course, its untimely demise happened two weeks before payday.

That leads to the number-one “root of all evil”– money.  Without it,  you can’t buy gas, pay for inspection or registration, or other matters automotive. Without “moolah”, you can’t replace the toner or buy paper, or, worst-case scenario, buy another computer. Without “dough”, you can’t buy food or even use your credit cards. In other words:  “no mon, no fun!”

Cars, computers, and cash — the top three on my list of necessary evils. What are the top three items you love until they go belly-up or need maintenance?