I can remember the good ole days when I lived in Lexington, S.C. I used to go to Harmon's Drug Store on Main Street in Lexington to enjoy an ice cream cone or on the rare occasion, a chocolate fudge sundae.

The late R.B. Harmon was the proprietor. He had a classical drug store with a magnificent edifice that served as a backdrop for the ice cream counter. Over a half century later, I can still vividly see it in my mind's eye.

As children, we always gathered in the drug stores in those days. R.B. Harmon had ice cream in his establishment. Shepherd's Drug Store, immediately across the street, had the widest array of magazines and the absolute best selection of sports magazines in all of Lexington. There were no malls to visit. Life was much simpler in those days and your choices were so limited.

Growing up, we were always taught to be polite and, when possible, tip the people who served you. While the tip on an ice cream sundae isn't much, as the old saying goes, it's the gesture that counts.

R.B. had a counter attendant, who was a widow, working in his store for a brief period of time. One of my friends who lived on what we called the "Mill Hill" came into the store one Saturday.

My buddies that lived on the "Mill Hill" did so because they were just as poor as we were. Their parents actually worked in the old mill on East Main Street of Lexington.

That Saturday morning, I observed an exchange between my "Mill Hill" friend and the counter attendant, who herself was most likely had to work doing anything possible to feed her family. My buddy asked, “How much is an ice cream sundae?” She replied “Fifty cents.”

My "Mill Hill" friend pulled his hand out of his pocket and counted his coins carefully, realizing that he couldn't afford the ice cream sundae.

“Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?” he quietly asked. By now, more people were waiting for a service and I could tell the waitress was growing impatient. “Thirty-five cents,” she abruptly said.

My friend again counted his coins and finally ordered. “I’ll have the plain vanilla ice cream,” he said.

She brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. My friend finished the ice cream, paid R.B. Harmon and left to join me at my uncle's grocery store to work alongside me as a bag boy for the day.

When the waitress came back to clean the area, she broke down and cried in front of a room full of people as she cleaned off the bar area where he had eaten his ice cream. My poor "Mill Hill" friend had placed two nickels and five pennies right next to his empty dish.

He couldn’t have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.

So often in life we don't take the time to thank people for the service they render. I spend a lot of time on air planes flying to and from speaking venues. I always make it a habit to go to the head flight attendant when I get on the plane and I ask them for the name and the address of their supervisor.

"Is there a problem sir?" No, it's really a great day today. I simply want to write your supervisor a thank you note for the wonderful service I'm about to receive.

Laugh all you want. It works! I learned this from a poor "Mill Hill" buddy of mine when I was only ten years old. The word "TIPS" is actually an acronym. It stands for To Insure Proper Service.

I can't tell you the dozens of times that the good folks at Delta Air Lines and others have literally upgraded me to First Class because I took the time to thank them for the service I was about to receive. I always wrote the note quickly, specifically, briefly and to the point. And to insure it got delivered to the right person, I always gave it to the attendant as I exited the plane. Try it; it works!