I know that I have neglected this recently. The truth is that I’ve NOT been overly busy, I’ve NOT been depressed, nor do I have a good reason to not keep it more up to date. One question I frequently have is does anybody actually read this thing? So if no one is reading it, why am I bothering to post anything? Additionally, I have, like most everyone else, discovered the ease and beauty of Facebook. It is very easy to just put a quick note as to what I’m doing or thinking. I am given feedback by those who comment, and my need to share my life with people is satisfied. Also, it is nice for creating photo albums to share pictures. As much as I like the Google suite of utilities, it seems that they are slightly behind the curve and not as tightly integrated as those provided by other services. For example, I am becoming a fast believer in the Microsoft Live set of tools and hope to use them in the near future for a manuscript collaboration. I know, I know, Microsoft is the man, and my life’s mission has been to not let the man keep me under his thumb. The truth is, they’ve been around for thirty years and they are really starting to get a feel for what people need in this new era of computing. Now, if they can just keep the prices reasonable and continue offering some free services, such as office live, I feel they will once again occupy a happy place in my brain.
My birthday came and went with scarcely a mention on this space. This was a momentous birthday, and those who follow this blog, whoever you are, most likely missed my ‘turning 40 rant’ you were expecting. So what happened on this day? Very little. My family is not much for celebrating birthdays much anymore, and there has been a bit of family tension that I do not fully understand, so maybe it serves me right that this event come and go with little fanfare. I did get a card from my Aunt and Uncle, and a birthday email from my mother. I also got to spend some time with my parents the day after. But beyond that, it was just another Sunday. I would have liked to had a party, opened a gift, and been around the people I love. But this year, it just didn’t happen.
Now on the topic of friendship. Many of you know that I have many circles in my life. I have a general love for everyone, but within that sphere there is a group I will call acquaintances and coworkers. These are people I have met, work with or socially interact on a regular basis. I am kind and friendly with some joking, but mostly a professional demeanor. Within that group, there are people I consider friends. These are people I see and think about more than the others. These are people I would call for help, and would run to should the opportunity to assist them arrive. These are folks that I will share intimate meals with, open conversation and discussion and people I will borrow items from or lend items too. These are the people that regularly make me emotional. Either happy because of kind exchanges or sad because the exchanges have turned predominantly toward the negative. These are the people that inspire me on both ends of the spectrum and whom I feel blessed for knowing.
The centermost circle is who I would consider my best friends. These are people with whom I spend many hours of enjoyable time. People I miss when unable to see or hear from and people that I can honestly say that I love. These are the people that know me the best and are not afraid to care for me no matter how screwed up they think I am. While my ‘friend’ circle can include family friends, my best friend circle are those people with whom I share an exclusive relationship. These are MY friends, not my families friends. There are honestly not too many people in that circle. However, the membership seems to be very volatile as it appears that outside circumstances are taking people from me at an alarming rate. Few people attain membership to that group, but many seem to leave it. Anytime I get a close friend, it seems they find a better employment situation and move away. I won’t name names, because they know who they are. But I have moved friends all over the country, Texas, Pennsylvania, Washington DC, Washington State, Florida, Colorado, California by way of Oklahoma and in the near future; France.
It should be noted that I do not hold any animosity toward any of these people. They all did what was best for their professional and family prosperity. And I do keep in contact with them all as often as I am able. But I am very sad to see this last fellow move to Europe. He and I have been riding bikes together quite a bit this season and last. He has pushed me personally and physically, and encouraged me to give racing a try; if for no other reason than to add it to my list of life achievements. So, once the elbow heals up, I will be on the local bicycle race team for at least one year, maybe two. I’ll race, I’ll lose, but I will be out there doing what I can to fulfill a tiny part of my childhood aspirations. While young, he is quite perceptive and willing to listen. As we spoke while riding and in times at the local watering hole, we were able to discuss some of the more weighty issues in our lives. And while neither of us had all the answers to the others problems, we did at least get to talk, in a very open and non-threatening way. We knew that whatever was shared, would stay between us. We knew that no matter what was said, we would not be looked down upon by the other person. We have a respect for each other that is rare in this world of self centered instant gratification. And as he is pursuing his dream of racing professionally in Europe, I will be on the sidelines cheering him on, ringing the cowbell and being ever available to listen to his concerns, and share my life with him via the electronic media we have available. I look forward to the times when he will be back in the area and we can share a ride, or just meet for drinks at our favorite place.
I know I covered a lot of ground tonight, but sometimes when the fingers do the walkin, they start to run. So...there you have it. 92% of everything I'm thinking about today. The other 8%...well... a guy can't give away all his secrets can he?
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
One of my last demons
As many of you know, I've been doing a lot of growing for the past decade or so. I've inventoried my life and discovered the things I feel to be important, and eliminated the things I feel to be detrimental. A large part of this was the notion that I could change the way I reacted to situations, because no one is responsible for my feelings, but me. Sure, we can be hurt and offended, but how long are you going to let that bother you? Let that emotion swim around inside you for a while, let it do its work (which is to remind you what you hold dear and why it is important) and then let it go. Life is too short to stew on pain.
A friend who stood near me during a particularly troublesome time in my life recently asked me, "How are your demons doing?" and it got me to thinking. The things that were haunting me back then are largely gone. Those bad attitudes and thoughts that bound me during that time are now only memories. Vanquished, now that proper defenses have been built to ward off future attacks. So as I was recounting the demons of my past and rejoicing that they had all been removed from the scene, I was also reminded of a few new ones that had cropped up. While no where near as dangerous as the ones from the past, they are niggling harassers that need to be managed, and in some cases focused, if not eliminated all together.
While I was introspecting, the one demon that kept jumping up in my life was hatred. I am filled with hate. Which is weird because anyone that knows me will tell you that I am easy going, accepting and generally fun to be around. So it bothered me. Why do I hate...what do I hate? So being the student of humanity that I am, I started writing a list of things I hate. Upon that list was local hunger, the abuse of the elderly, young and impaired, anger, violence, envy, and elitism. The list went on, but it was all things of this nature.
So I taped this list up to the wall and walked around it, gazing into it to discover what, if anything was the root cause. What was it that I really hated? Oddly enough, that list also included hate, which I found amusing in that way that only I find myself funny. So I started to read the list out loud to see what would happen. I found myself becoming increasingly agitated as I spat out each item on the list. At first it was tolerable. But by the end of the list I was hissing the words with tears streaming down my cheeks while I trembled uncontrolled. I crumpled the paper, threw it across the room and then realized that my hatred was almost righteous. WHAT? How is that possible? So I thought about this notion of Righteous Hatred for about an hour...and then something happened.
I remembered a Bible verse. Not one really...but nearly a dozen. Exodus, Psalms, Amos, Romans, and Revelation all jumped into my head. I started to flip through the Bible my Aunt and Uncle gave me for high school graduation, it was the closest one. It didn't take me long to find it in each case. Spelled out most eloquently, however was Romans 12:9. "Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil and cling to what is good." (NIV) WOW....there is such a thing as righteous hatred!
Well, hating what is evil is pretty broad though. Sure, we all hate to hear stories of murder and terrorism. That is low hanging fruit on the hate tree. But what is at the root of most evil. Well, the Bible says that the "Love of Money" is at the root of all evil. That is certainly true enough. I've fallen into that trap before myself. The pursuit of money can make us do crazy things if that is our primary focus. But in my estimation, even the love of money has a root cause. And that root cause is the new focus of my hatred.
Weakness.
I now hate every shred of weakness in my being. When I fret about paying the bills, I hate that I don't trust that I've been given the right talent and job to provide for my family. When I find myself becoming upset at another driver who is making me more late than I already am, I hate that I didn't make the time to leave earlier, and now I'm trying to blame MY problem on someone else...who is probably also having a rough day. I have made it my new mission to eliminate weakness. Why do we hate other people? Because we are too weak to allow for the possibility that someone else might have a valid opinion. Why do we kill and hurt each other? Because we are too weak to deal with issues in any other way. Why do we strut around flexing our muscles and make threats to prove how tough we are? Because we are too weak to realize that just being who we are will attract respect.
Weakness sucks. I'm tired of it. It's time for that demon to go.
A friend who stood near me during a particularly troublesome time in my life recently asked me, "How are your demons doing?" and it got me to thinking. The things that were haunting me back then are largely gone. Those bad attitudes and thoughts that bound me during that time are now only memories. Vanquished, now that proper defenses have been built to ward off future attacks. So as I was recounting the demons of my past and rejoicing that they had all been removed from the scene, I was also reminded of a few new ones that had cropped up. While no where near as dangerous as the ones from the past, they are niggling harassers that need to be managed, and in some cases focused, if not eliminated all together.
While I was introspecting, the one demon that kept jumping up in my life was hatred. I am filled with hate. Which is weird because anyone that knows me will tell you that I am easy going, accepting and generally fun to be around. So it bothered me. Why do I hate...what do I hate? So being the student of humanity that I am, I started writing a list of things I hate. Upon that list was local hunger, the abuse of the elderly, young and impaired, anger, violence, envy, and elitism. The list went on, but it was all things of this nature.
So I taped this list up to the wall and walked around it, gazing into it to discover what, if anything was the root cause. What was it that I really hated? Oddly enough, that list also included hate, which I found amusing in that way that only I find myself funny. So I started to read the list out loud to see what would happen. I found myself becoming increasingly agitated as I spat out each item on the list. At first it was tolerable. But by the end of the list I was hissing the words with tears streaming down my cheeks while I trembled uncontrolled. I crumpled the paper, threw it across the room and then realized that my hatred was almost righteous. WHAT? How is that possible? So I thought about this notion of Righteous Hatred for about an hour...and then something happened.
I remembered a Bible verse. Not one really...but nearly a dozen. Exodus, Psalms, Amos, Romans, and Revelation all jumped into my head. I started to flip through the Bible my Aunt and Uncle gave me for high school graduation, it was the closest one. It didn't take me long to find it in each case. Spelled out most eloquently, however was Romans 12:9. "Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil and cling to what is good." (NIV) WOW....there is such a thing as righteous hatred!
Well, hating what is evil is pretty broad though. Sure, we all hate to hear stories of murder and terrorism. That is low hanging fruit on the hate tree. But what is at the root of most evil. Well, the Bible says that the "Love of Money" is at the root of all evil. That is certainly true enough. I've fallen into that trap before myself. The pursuit of money can make us do crazy things if that is our primary focus. But in my estimation, even the love of money has a root cause. And that root cause is the new focus of my hatred.
Weakness.
I now hate every shred of weakness in my being. When I fret about paying the bills, I hate that I don't trust that I've been given the right talent and job to provide for my family. When I find myself becoming upset at another driver who is making me more late than I already am, I hate that I didn't make the time to leave earlier, and now I'm trying to blame MY problem on someone else...who is probably also having a rough day. I have made it my new mission to eliminate weakness. Why do we hate other people? Because we are too weak to allow for the possibility that someone else might have a valid opinion. Why do we kill and hurt each other? Because we are too weak to deal with issues in any other way. Why do we strut around flexing our muscles and make threats to prove how tough we are? Because we are too weak to realize that just being who we are will attract respect.
Weakness sucks. I'm tired of it. It's time for that demon to go.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Facebook Addiction?
Facebook has been out there for a few years now and millions of people have signed up and began sharing snippets of their life with many many people. Well, at the continued "encouragement" of my friends, I have finally signed in. I anticipate the mockery of my coworkers soon. I will say this, I finally understand the hype. However just like a hammer or a shotgun, it is a tool that can be used for creativity and enrichment, or it can be destructive and painful.
I must admit that as I get near my forth decade, I have become a little nostalgic. I signed into another service a long time ago, but they were very limited with their willingness to allow you to speak to your old classmates without collecting a subscription fee. With Facebook, I've rediscovered many old friends, and rivals, from my high school days. Some with whom I was never very close, while others I maintained a deep fondness for in my youth, that was somehow eliminated when I graduated. Some of us went to college, some of us joined the military, some of us went to work and some of us just went. But now, many of us are back together again because of Facebook.
Like many of us who are honest with ourselves, I have a past filled with stupidity and regret. There are a few people I was terribly mean to, and some who were viciously mean toward me, but after 22 years, it seems that none of us care much anymore. We've all gone on to have children, fall in love, get divorced, go bald, grey, or even get into better shape. Why did I expect any different? Well, when you are a kid, you think that you will not be just like all the other grownups you meet. But when you finally become a grownup yourself, you fall in step. Adulthood looks very similar today than it did 20 years ago. The only difference is the technology.
Grownups still go out drinking and dancing with their friends, take their kids to the park, write books, become involved in politics, and generally make the world better in the way we've each been equipped. Some by simply being parents, and some by serving as an example to others. I am on both sides of that gate. Still looking for my over riding purpose, yet knowing that I am somehow moving the gears of society, one tiny cog click at a time. Believe it or not, the world would be very different without my meager contribution. The same could be said for you.
I must admit that as I get near my forth decade, I have become a little nostalgic. I signed into another service a long time ago, but they were very limited with their willingness to allow you to speak to your old classmates without collecting a subscription fee. With Facebook, I've rediscovered many old friends, and rivals, from my high school days. Some with whom I was never very close, while others I maintained a deep fondness for in my youth, that was somehow eliminated when I graduated. Some of us went to college, some of us joined the military, some of us went to work and some of us just went. But now, many of us are back together again because of Facebook.
Like many of us who are honest with ourselves, I have a past filled with stupidity and regret. There are a few people I was terribly mean to, and some who were viciously mean toward me, but after 22 years, it seems that none of us care much anymore. We've all gone on to have children, fall in love, get divorced, go bald, grey, or even get into better shape. Why did I expect any different? Well, when you are a kid, you think that you will not be just like all the other grownups you meet. But when you finally become a grownup yourself, you fall in step. Adulthood looks very similar today than it did 20 years ago. The only difference is the technology.
Grownups still go out drinking and dancing with their friends, take their kids to the park, write books, become involved in politics, and generally make the world better in the way we've each been equipped. Some by simply being parents, and some by serving as an example to others. I am on both sides of that gate. Still looking for my over riding purpose, yet knowing that I am somehow moving the gears of society, one tiny cog click at a time. Believe it or not, the world would be very different without my meager contribution. The same could be said for you.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Why I need to stop thinking and listening to the radio
This morning was not the best. For some reason I woke up feeling all sorts of different things. Most of them not good. I had wanted to take a bike ride this morning (which usually is the best antidote for these sorts of times) but I knew that I needed to get some things done around home. After all, it is Mothers Day, and I need to get some things cleaned up in preparation for my parents coming over, as well as doing something so my wife didn't have to do it. After all, it is mothers day for her too. Well, the baby wasn't helping matters much, he just didn't want to be sleeping, so she was frustrated with him and trying her best to get him settled so he could have more than 6 hours of sleep.
So I got up, cleaned my office, picked up some toys, cleaned the car and garage, put air in the bike tires (hey, I was right there) and then remembered that my wife's mothers day gift had not arrived and I needed to figure out why. So I logged onto the web site and found out that I had done everything to place the order, except to click the tiny button that says "Yes, I really really really want to place this order". Well that made me feel very guilty. Even more guilty than I would have felt had I took my bike out for a ride, only to have my wife wake up in the meanwhile and think I had abandoned my house cleaning duties. Then I realized that I didn't have a card...sheesh! So I'm feeling about the worst husband in the world, especially since I am NO help at all in putting the kid back to sleep. I don't have the knack. If I could do that, I know I'd feel a little better, but I just don't got it apparently.
I needed out of the house to get a card anyway, and SOMETHING for her to open on mothers day since I was an absolute knucklehead about the online order. It was in that weakened moment that all the other negative thoughts poured into my head. The fact that I was stuck in a job that very well could have an unhappy ending, the guilt of not knowing how to be a better husband and father, the knowledge that this year, most of the money will need to go into repairing our savings that were obliterated last year and not to improving our house, and the thought that most of my other thoughts are mostly selfish. So I drove over to get some greasy breakfast and shop for a card. It was then that I had yet another down thought. "This stuff you are eating is not comfort, it isn't love. It is barely even food." I couldn't even get breakfast right.
Then something happened. This something has happened more times in my life than I can honestly believe to be coincidence. The right song came on the radio at the right time to snap me out of my funk. Something I have noticed about music. My taste is wide. I like just about everything. I even had a crunk phase about 6 years ago. (Duh, what else will you listen to when rolling in a black Monte Carlo SS?) But recently I've been listening to country music. Classic rock is OK, but they tend to play the same songs over and over. I cannot stand the new 'rock' and 'pop' music. Besides, today's country music sounds quite a bit like what we used to call oldies. And the older I get, the more I appriciate songs that actually tell a story. I mean come on, when Bubba was cited with 'reckless discharge' for the jukebox incident, who can't identify with his reply, "reckless hell! I hit just where I was aimin'" We've all heard a song that made us feel something we weren't expecting. (clickto hear the whole song)
So what song brought me back? Well, until I can find a video, here is the song, complete with lyrics. And no, she didn't really sing that thing you think she sang...it just sounds like it...on purpose.
So I got up, cleaned my office, picked up some toys, cleaned the car and garage, put air in the bike tires (hey, I was right there) and then remembered that my wife's mothers day gift had not arrived and I needed to figure out why. So I logged onto the web site and found out that I had done everything to place the order, except to click the tiny button that says "Yes, I really really really want to place this order". Well that made me feel very guilty. Even more guilty than I would have felt had I took my bike out for a ride, only to have my wife wake up in the meanwhile and think I had abandoned my house cleaning duties. Then I realized that I didn't have a card...sheesh! So I'm feeling about the worst husband in the world, especially since I am NO help at all in putting the kid back to sleep. I don't have the knack. If I could do that, I know I'd feel a little better, but I just don't got it apparently.
I needed out of the house to get a card anyway, and SOMETHING for her to open on mothers day since I was an absolute knucklehead about the online order. It was in that weakened moment that all the other negative thoughts poured into my head. The fact that I was stuck in a job that very well could have an unhappy ending, the guilt of not knowing how to be a better husband and father, the knowledge that this year, most of the money will need to go into repairing our savings that were obliterated last year and not to improving our house, and the thought that most of my other thoughts are mostly selfish. So I drove over to get some greasy breakfast and shop for a card. It was then that I had yet another down thought. "This stuff you are eating is not comfort, it isn't love. It is barely even food." I couldn't even get breakfast right.
Then something happened. This something has happened more times in my life than I can honestly believe to be coincidence. The right song came on the radio at the right time to snap me out of my funk. Something I have noticed about music. My taste is wide. I like just about everything. I even had a crunk phase about 6 years ago. (Duh, what else will you listen to when rolling in a black Monte Carlo SS?) But recently I've been listening to country music. Classic rock is OK, but they tend to play the same songs over and over. I cannot stand the new 'rock' and 'pop' music. Besides, today's country music sounds quite a bit like what we used to call oldies. And the older I get, the more I appriciate songs that actually tell a story. I mean come on, when Bubba was cited with 'reckless discharge' for the jukebox incident, who can't identify with his reply, "reckless hell! I hit just where I was aimin'" We've all heard a song that made us feel something we weren't expecting. (clickto hear the whole song)
So what song brought me back? Well, until I can find a video, here is the song, complete with lyrics. And no, she didn't really sing that thing you think she sang...it just sounds like it...on purpose.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Old Bike, New Ride
Today was a momentous day. When I first bought my bike 2 years ago, I told the salesman that I was interested in losing weight and commuting to work. So he suggested something that was marketed as a 'fitness hybrid'. These bikes are basically flat bar road bikes, with mountain bike components. Great for fitness and commuting, but only for about 20 miles at a time. Beyond that distance, the bike is not very comfortable or even efficient. Because I have completed my first mission with my bike (losing over 50 pounds) I was ready for the longer rides in order to burn more fat and participate in some of the great events we have in this area. Ergo, the new horse in the stable as mentioned below.
But there was still my second objective; to ride my bike to work. Since the older bike is geared low enough to climb a tree, has space to install a rack and panniers, it was the natural choice for this duty. But there was one more hurdle to deal with; my reluctance to ride my bike in traffic. Well, I started having lunch with a few like minded cyclists. Half of them regularly commute by bike, and one has been talking about driving to work and riding his bike home. One of the guys at the table was Chuck Smith. Chuck happens to be the chairman of the Ohio Bicycle Foundation and a cycling advocate that has helped write or has been consulted for many of the recent cycling laws and movements here in Ohio. He's also been riding his bike to work for the last 20 years or so, no matter where he was living.
Chuck and his teaching partner Dan are also League of American Bicyclists certified instructors and they conducted a Road Riding Course which I attended. This course was designed to teach us the appropriate cycling laws, and theory, but then also back it up with actual riding through the city of Dayton, on the road, with the traffic. I took this class in the fall, right at the end of the riding season. Well, now that we are just starting the cycling season of '09. I was taking baby steps. First, buy the bike and talk about riding to work. Next, make friends that do it so I can get some inspiration as well as on the road knowledge. Then take a class to build some confidence. Finally, secure a bike locker so my bike wouldn't have to mingle with the riff raff at the wheel bender rack. A well trained brain sees these things as the stall tactics they actually are. But today, no more excuses.
I pre-rode the route last weekend so I knew the road surface, so there would be no surprises in the dark, and also to make sure I knew exactly where I was going. Then I set the day. Thursday. Thursday is the day I will ride to work. Today, was that Thursday. I woke up a little early and saw that the temperature was just slightly above freezing. So it took me a little extra time to put on a fleece layer under my regular cycling clothes, then do my typical OCD routine of triple checking everything to make sure I had all my poop in a group and was ready to take off. I managed to leave the house a little later than I wanted to, but it was OK. The traffic at 5:15 is almost non-existent in our little suburb. So I navigated the streets, and managed to not get lost. I quickly realized that hills on the real road are much steeper than what I thought were hills on the bike trail. Combine that with my extra warm clothing, cold air, asthma and restricted breathing passages, and the wind didn't come as well as I would have liked, but I managed to exit the city limits and into the inky darkness of the countryside sans moon or street light.
Even with what I thought was a powerful light, the predawn was barely illuminated. I did manage to hit a pothole or something, but beyond that, no incidents. Even the insanely steep decline, where I was over 30 MPH did not give me any pavement induced surprises. Things seemed great...until I climbed the hill that lead to the turn that took me across the dam. I puffed my way up the hill (not seeing any Care Bears hiding in the shadows) and turned onto the path across the dam. My light just barely showed me the wooden gate that blocked the path. It also just barely showed me where the sidewalk that leads around the gate is located. So after nearly flipping over a barricade, and doing some quick fear laced, adrenaline fueled, clumsy bike handling, I was able to get across the dam, and to work without further incident. I was half expecting to find a similar baricade on the other end, but it happened to be open. Someone should put reflectors on those things.
I happened to get to work just about the same time as I did when I drove. However, I needed to do something to remove the funk that surely emanated from me. The night before, I had mixed up some homemade Rocket Shower. Turns out it worked great! I changed in the bathroom stall, sprayed myself with my cleansing elixir and put on my work clothes. The stuff even worked fairly well on my hair. It gave it a different look, but one that was appreciated by the superficial members of my office. All told, I was in my chair and working only a few minutes later than I normally was.
So what was it like? Amazing! I saw my first sunrise in years. I felt a thrill that carried me through the whole day to the point I wanted to leave early, just to experience the same ride again. And that ride, the ride home with the sunlight and more traffic was a little hectic, but not bad. I only had one problem and that was at a stop light that tuned at the exact same moment that I unclipped and dismounted forcing me to quickly fumble around getting started, inadvertently unclipping my other foot, all the while traffic was waiting behind me. Once I was moving again, the rest of the ride was fine. The sun was hot, but the air was cold. It was really weird. If I unzipped my jacket, I was cold. Zipped it up and I was hot again. Nothing was comfortable.
Bottom line: Yes. I will do it again. Maybe next Thursday since that seems to be one of the two best days for me to commute due to obligations on those days. So, I offer up a thank you to Chuck, Jeff, the Bills, and Dan who encouraged me and trained me how to experience this sweet, yet simple pleasure, even if you didn't know you were doing it. Cycling is fun for me, but riding to work added a whole new dimension. Give it a try. You might be surprised at what you experience.
But there was still my second objective; to ride my bike to work. Since the older bike is geared low enough to climb a tree, has space to install a rack and panniers, it was the natural choice for this duty. But there was one more hurdle to deal with; my reluctance to ride my bike in traffic. Well, I started having lunch with a few like minded cyclists. Half of them regularly commute by bike, and one has been talking about driving to work and riding his bike home. One of the guys at the table was Chuck Smith. Chuck happens to be the chairman of the Ohio Bicycle Foundation and a cycling advocate that has helped write or has been consulted for many of the recent cycling laws and movements here in Ohio. He's also been riding his bike to work for the last 20 years or so, no matter where he was living.
Chuck and his teaching partner Dan are also League of American Bicyclists certified instructors and they conducted a Road Riding Course which I attended. This course was designed to teach us the appropriate cycling laws, and theory, but then also back it up with actual riding through the city of Dayton, on the road, with the traffic. I took this class in the fall, right at the end of the riding season. Well, now that we are just starting the cycling season of '09. I was taking baby steps. First, buy the bike and talk about riding to work. Next, make friends that do it so I can get some inspiration as well as on the road knowledge. Then take a class to build some confidence. Finally, secure a bike locker so my bike wouldn't have to mingle with the riff raff at the wheel bender rack. A well trained brain sees these things as the stall tactics they actually are. But today, no more excuses.
I pre-rode the route last weekend so I knew the road surface, so there would be no surprises in the dark, and also to make sure I knew exactly where I was going. Then I set the day. Thursday. Thursday is the day I will ride to work. Today, was that Thursday. I woke up a little early and saw that the temperature was just slightly above freezing. So it took me a little extra time to put on a fleece layer under my regular cycling clothes, then do my typical OCD routine of triple checking everything to make sure I had all my poop in a group and was ready to take off. I managed to leave the house a little later than I wanted to, but it was OK. The traffic at 5:15 is almost non-existent in our little suburb. So I navigated the streets, and managed to not get lost. I quickly realized that hills on the real road are much steeper than what I thought were hills on the bike trail. Combine that with my extra warm clothing, cold air, asthma and restricted breathing passages, and the wind didn't come as well as I would have liked, but I managed to exit the city limits and into the inky darkness of the countryside sans moon or street light.
Even with what I thought was a powerful light, the predawn was barely illuminated. I did manage to hit a pothole or something, but beyond that, no incidents. Even the insanely steep decline, where I was over 30 MPH did not give me any pavement induced surprises. Things seemed great...until I climbed the hill that lead to the turn that took me across the dam. I puffed my way up the hill (not seeing any Care Bears hiding in the shadows) and turned onto the path across the dam. My light just barely showed me the wooden gate that blocked the path. It also just barely showed me where the sidewalk that leads around the gate is located. So after nearly flipping over a barricade, and doing some quick fear laced, adrenaline fueled, clumsy bike handling, I was able to get across the dam, and to work without further incident. I was half expecting to find a similar baricade on the other end, but it happened to be open. Someone should put reflectors on those things.
I happened to get to work just about the same time as I did when I drove. However, I needed to do something to remove the funk that surely emanated from me. The night before, I had mixed up some homemade Rocket Shower. Turns out it worked great! I changed in the bathroom stall, sprayed myself with my cleansing elixir and put on my work clothes. The stuff even worked fairly well on my hair. It gave it a different look, but one that was appreciated by the superficial members of my office. All told, I was in my chair and working only a few minutes later than I normally was.
So what was it like? Amazing! I saw my first sunrise in years. I felt a thrill that carried me through the whole day to the point I wanted to leave early, just to experience the same ride again. And that ride, the ride home with the sunlight and more traffic was a little hectic, but not bad. I only had one problem and that was at a stop light that tuned at the exact same moment that I unclipped and dismounted forcing me to quickly fumble around getting started, inadvertently unclipping my other foot, all the while traffic was waiting behind me. Once I was moving again, the rest of the ride was fine. The sun was hot, but the air was cold. It was really weird. If I unzipped my jacket, I was cold. Zipped it up and I was hot again. Nothing was comfortable.
Bottom line: Yes. I will do it again. Maybe next Thursday since that seems to be one of the two best days for me to commute due to obligations on those days. So, I offer up a thank you to Chuck, Jeff, the Bills, and Dan who encouraged me and trained me how to experience this sweet, yet simple pleasure, even if you didn't know you were doing it. Cycling is fun for me, but riding to work added a whole new dimension. Give it a try. You might be surprised at what you experience.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Bad joke alert!
Now that Kal Penn has taken a job with the Obama administration, can we say that Kumar has gone back to White Castle?
(don't tell me I'm the only one that refers to King Obama's house as the White Castle...OK...maybe it's only funny to me)
(don't tell me I'm the only one that refers to King Obama's house as the White Castle...OK...maybe it's only funny to me)
Friday, April 10, 2009
New horse in the stable
People have been asking to see pictures of the new bicycle. The worst thing about it is that I picked it up earlier this week. And if you've been paying attention to the weather, this week has been nasty. In fact, the day we went down to pick it up, it was sleeting. I got out to ride her for the first time on Wednesday for about 14 miles. Clearly, I need to get used to the different riding position, which will come in time.
Since we've only had one ride, things are still a little stiff and needing to be broken in. I wanted to get a picture before she got too dirty and grimy. They are only brand new clean once. My Trek 7.2 Hybrid will be my commuting and riding around town bike, where this new one will be for fitness, fun and longer bike tours. Performance Bike had them at 40% off. Combine this with a contest gift certificate and my company's generous offer to pay for 60% means that this bike will wind up costing me about $120.
For you bike geeks, it is a Schwinn Le Tour Ultra 1 with a full carbon fiber frame and fork with Shimano 105 shifters, derailleurs, and cassette. It also happens to have in-line brake levers on the top bar; which was unexpected. Yes, I know...it has reflectors on it and dorky clip/platform pedals. But at least it doesn't have a pie plate, so it is immune to goose attacks.
She needs a name. If you can come up with a good name, post it here. Also, I'll take a picture when I don't need to use the flash sometime. Notice my little man in the background admiring her? He loves bikes!
Since we've only had one ride, things are still a little stiff and needing to be broken in. I wanted to get a picture before she got too dirty and grimy. They are only brand new clean once. My Trek 7.2 Hybrid will be my commuting and riding around town bike, where this new one will be for fitness, fun and longer bike tours. Performance Bike had them at 40% off. Combine this with a contest gift certificate and my company's generous offer to pay for 60% means that this bike will wind up costing me about $120.
For you bike geeks, it is a Schwinn Le Tour Ultra 1 with a full carbon fiber frame and fork with Shimano 105 shifters, derailleurs, and cassette. It also happens to have in-line brake levers on the top bar; which was unexpected. Yes, I know...it has reflectors on it and dorky clip/platform pedals. But at least it doesn't have a pie plate, so it is immune to goose attacks.
She needs a name. If you can come up with a good name, post it here. Also, I'll take a picture when I don't need to use the flash sometime. Notice my little man in the background admiring her? He loves bikes!
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Words of Liberation
I've been taking the last two years to try and better myself personally. I've read and studied and learned quite a bit about who I am, why I am, and how I can improve some of my shortcomings. The first thing I did was lengthen my fuse. I'm quite a bit more patient now than I used to be. Of course I still have my moments, but it is still a work in process.
My next step was to become a better people person. This seems to be taking much much longer as I'm having to "re-write my code" so to speak. I'm getting there. But my next task was to learn how to reduce stress. Well, friends, I've learned the secret.
I've seen people say and do many things that are intended to reduce our levels of stress such as "Don't sweat the little things...and by the way, everything is a little thing", "Let go and let God", and words like that. We all know that the key is to just relax and chill out. But never before had I heard these exact words. They made perfect sense to me, and hopefully, they will you as well.
It all happened during a judges meeting at a First Lego League State Tournament. The scoring is done on a 4 point scale. The points are, Needs Improvement, Fair, Good, Excellent. One of the judges said that he frequently held back a score of 4 in any category unless the team performed that metric perfectly. And this is it....are you ready? The lead judge said these words, and instantly changed our mindsets:
"They don't have to be perfect, they just have to be excellent."
That's all it takes, friends! You don't have to be perfect...Being excellent is good enough! Once that sank in, it all got better...now if I can just learn how to mingle.
.
My next step was to become a better people person. This seems to be taking much much longer as I'm having to "re-write my code" so to speak. I'm getting there. But my next task was to learn how to reduce stress. Well, friends, I've learned the secret.
I've seen people say and do many things that are intended to reduce our levels of stress such as "Don't sweat the little things...and by the way, everything is a little thing", "Let go and let God", and words like that. We all know that the key is to just relax and chill out. But never before had I heard these exact words. They made perfect sense to me, and hopefully, they will you as well.
It all happened during a judges meeting at a First Lego League State Tournament. The scoring is done on a 4 point scale. The points are, Needs Improvement, Fair, Good, Excellent. One of the judges said that he frequently held back a score of 4 in any category unless the team performed that metric perfectly. And this is it....are you ready? The lead judge said these words, and instantly changed our mindsets:
"They don't have to be perfect, they just have to be excellent."
That's all it takes, friends! You don't have to be perfect...Being excellent is good enough! Once that sank in, it all got better...now if I can just learn how to mingle.
.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Hope
Heather is a phenomenal woman. I first met her when we were both in our early twenties. We were quite a bit alike actually. We had the same views of the world, had the same upbringing, the same backwoods sensibilities and even the same home town. She and I worked in the same office and spoke briefly every single day. And in these numerous, but short interactions, we bonded and became very close. Close to the point of having long broken the touch barrier, as there would be some sort of contact each time we chatted, and we shared about four inside jokes. Inside jokes are a lot of fun. She would just walk by, trace her finger from my left shoulder to my right as she walked by and say "scarecrow" and we would both start laughing loud enough to the distraction of others.
But Heather, being a small town naive gal, also happened to have the stereotypical white trash boyfriend that had no clue that she was too good for him. She hadn't learned this fact yet either. And because they were young and stupid, she eventually found herself pregnant. Now Heather was about as slender as a 2x4. Long thin legs and arms, long curly hair that looked amazing in the wind and a frail looking, willowy body. About three months into the pregnancy, her body started to change. The straight line from her neck to her solar plexus suddenly started to bulge. And when I say suddenly, I mean over night, the boob fairy paid her a visit. It was this day that we actually developed a fifth inside joke. But lets hit the fast forward button. She had the baby, quit her job and I lost touch with her for a few years.
Then for reasons unexplained, I felt compelled to track her down. I looked through the phone book, called a few people and eventually found her. We set a time to meet after I came back from a business trip. That night, she introduced me to her three year old son, who was starting to show signs of cerebral palsy. And we spent the next twelve hours catching up on the last three years. That proved to be futile, but we did make arrangements to see each other again. And see each other we did for the next few months. I learned a lot about Heather. Mostly, I learned how strong she had become. And how to retain hope in a system that we are constantly told is broken.
You see, the father of Heathers son was not what you would call a consistent financial supporter. And she quickly found out that her job was barely covering the cost of her childcare and it was actually in her best interest to leave her job, stay home and get into the welfare system. She was receiving nearly every benefit there was available. And since her son was considered to be disabled, she was actually making more money by staying at home as she did while she was working. Her townhouse was rent controlled and quaint, however it was surrounded by other welfare families that absolutely fit the worst face ever painted on the system. She received $400 a month in food stamps, her rent was paid by one State assistance plan, while her health support for herself and her son was paid for by another. She drove a used car that her son's father had given her two years prior when he was not able to make a proper child support payment. And her greatest complaint was that now she was stuck. If she went back to work, she would lose all the benefits.
She felt lazy and unproductive and this made her very sad. Nearly depressed actually.
And I continued to spend time with her and our relationship grew and blossomed in a way that neither one of us could ever predict. And then I learned about hope. Heather refused to accept any money from me because she came to value my friendship and emotional support. I refused to let her worry about anything if it was in my power. The first thing that happened was that her estranged ex boyfriend was several thousand dollars behind in child support. I was at her place doing some odd jobs when we were interrupted by the chime of the doorbell. When she opened the door she saw two men. The man closest to her was the deadbeat dad holding a money order for the exact amount he was in arrears. He profusely apologized and promised that he would never miss another payment. The other man she saw was standing by the curb. He was wearing dark sunglasses and had his hands folded behind his back. He was six feet tall, nearly three hundred pounds, bald except for a soul patch on his chin, and no neck. That was the day I learned, that if you father a child in Ohio and owe child support, they take it pretty seriously and WILL find you.
The money she got that day helped her pay some of her bills that were not covered by her government distributions. And in the next weeks, she once again gave me a reason to believe in the system. She called me and was about as excited as I've ever heard anyone. Why? Because she had just been accepted at Wright State University. Her tuition would be paid by the Welfare system. In two years, she would graduate with her nurses assistant degree. And in two years, I held her little boy in my lap as we watched his mommy walk down the aisle in her pretty gown and funny hat and take the treasured folder from the Dean of the Nursing School. I hugged her and kissed her cheek and we all ate as many tacos as we could and watched A Bug's Life. She put her son to bed and was so irradiated with excitement that she couldn't stop smiling for at least the next 4 hours. She was smiling when I left her place, and she was smiling the next weekend when we got together again.
She got a sitter for her son and drove her beat up rusty car to my house. We ate ribs, went dancing and held each others hand as we strolled through my neighborhood. That was one of the last times I heard from Heather. You see, she fought for and earned respect. She frequently told me how she had shown up at the welfare office to pick up a check and drop off some paperwork wearing clothes that were clean, pressed and borderline fancy. She told me about how she could hear the other people wondering why she was here, since she obviously didn't need the money. She told me how she would actually have to put on her worst, worn and torn clothes when she went to that place so that she would not feel the sting of words from people who honestly didn't know her situation. She felt that she needed to dress a certain way just to be respected. Heather always wanted to make her own way and being in the system was traumatic and humbling for her. She was grateful for the assistance, but hated the stigma.
Heather got a nursing assistant job at a clinic where childcare was provided for the staff. She eventually got off of every government assistance program, moved out of her depressing townhouse in the Jobless Zone, and got her son the help he needed to be as normal as he could. You see, there are two ways to work the system. You can have more kids so you can get more money handed to you and raise the kids with a mindset that they do not need to earn anything as long as someone is willing to give it to them. Or you can work the system the way it is intended to be worked. Take advantage of the time, money and programs so you can actually get out of the system and raise children that can learn from your work ethic.
I think about Heather frequently and each time, my eyes become misty. Sure, I loved her spirit. I loved to watch her patiently take care of her son and help him do basic things that came so difficult to him. I loved the way we could spend time together, know how screwed up and confused each other was, yet not care. I respect her more than any other person I've ever known. She was low, beaten down, striped of social dignity. She went into the system. Let the system work on her, and she came out the other side as a better person than when she went in. Hope. The system may not be perfect. But if a person is willing to reach up and grasp the extended hand they can be pulled up onto their feet. The system is there for people that need it. But it was never meant to be a lifestyle. I don't know where Heather is now. She took a job, moved and I never received any message she may have left. But she taught me that no matter what, there is a way out. When things are bad, it is never a life sentence. And hope can be birthed, by allowing yourself to completely succumb to your situation, acknowledge that you do not have all the answers, and trust that there really is a purpose to it all.
Wherever she is now, I'm sure that she is doing very well. And I'm also certain that she has no clue how inspiring she is to me, or how much I respect her. She probably doesn't know that I wished I had met her a few years before I did. And she will never know that she taught me what Hope really means: Not wishing that something will happen, but knowing that it actually will.
But Heather, being a small town naive gal, also happened to have the stereotypical white trash boyfriend that had no clue that she was too good for him. She hadn't learned this fact yet either. And because they were young and stupid, she eventually found herself pregnant. Now Heather was about as slender as a 2x4. Long thin legs and arms, long curly hair that looked amazing in the wind and a frail looking, willowy body. About three months into the pregnancy, her body started to change. The straight line from her neck to her solar plexus suddenly started to bulge. And when I say suddenly, I mean over night, the boob fairy paid her a visit. It was this day that we actually developed a fifth inside joke. But lets hit the fast forward button. She had the baby, quit her job and I lost touch with her for a few years.
Then for reasons unexplained, I felt compelled to track her down. I looked through the phone book, called a few people and eventually found her. We set a time to meet after I came back from a business trip. That night, she introduced me to her three year old son, who was starting to show signs of cerebral palsy. And we spent the next twelve hours catching up on the last three years. That proved to be futile, but we did make arrangements to see each other again. And see each other we did for the next few months. I learned a lot about Heather. Mostly, I learned how strong she had become. And how to retain hope in a system that we are constantly told is broken.
You see, the father of Heathers son was not what you would call a consistent financial supporter. And she quickly found out that her job was barely covering the cost of her childcare and it was actually in her best interest to leave her job, stay home and get into the welfare system. She was receiving nearly every benefit there was available. And since her son was considered to be disabled, she was actually making more money by staying at home as she did while she was working. Her townhouse was rent controlled and quaint, however it was surrounded by other welfare families that absolutely fit the worst face ever painted on the system. She received $400 a month in food stamps, her rent was paid by one State assistance plan, while her health support for herself and her son was paid for by another. She drove a used car that her son's father had given her two years prior when he was not able to make a proper child support payment. And her greatest complaint was that now she was stuck. If she went back to work, she would lose all the benefits.
She felt lazy and unproductive and this made her very sad. Nearly depressed actually.
And I continued to spend time with her and our relationship grew and blossomed in a way that neither one of us could ever predict. And then I learned about hope. Heather refused to accept any money from me because she came to value my friendship and emotional support. I refused to let her worry about anything if it was in my power. The first thing that happened was that her estranged ex boyfriend was several thousand dollars behind in child support. I was at her place doing some odd jobs when we were interrupted by the chime of the doorbell. When she opened the door she saw two men. The man closest to her was the deadbeat dad holding a money order for the exact amount he was in arrears. He profusely apologized and promised that he would never miss another payment. The other man she saw was standing by the curb. He was wearing dark sunglasses and had his hands folded behind his back. He was six feet tall, nearly three hundred pounds, bald except for a soul patch on his chin, and no neck. That was the day I learned, that if you father a child in Ohio and owe child support, they take it pretty seriously and WILL find you.
The money she got that day helped her pay some of her bills that were not covered by her government distributions. And in the next weeks, she once again gave me a reason to believe in the system. She called me and was about as excited as I've ever heard anyone. Why? Because she had just been accepted at Wright State University. Her tuition would be paid by the Welfare system. In two years, she would graduate with her nurses assistant degree. And in two years, I held her little boy in my lap as we watched his mommy walk down the aisle in her pretty gown and funny hat and take the treasured folder from the Dean of the Nursing School. I hugged her and kissed her cheek and we all ate as many tacos as we could and watched A Bug's Life. She put her son to bed and was so irradiated with excitement that she couldn't stop smiling for at least the next 4 hours. She was smiling when I left her place, and she was smiling the next weekend when we got together again.
She got a sitter for her son and drove her beat up rusty car to my house. We ate ribs, went dancing and held each others hand as we strolled through my neighborhood. That was one of the last times I heard from Heather. You see, she fought for and earned respect. She frequently told me how she had shown up at the welfare office to pick up a check and drop off some paperwork wearing clothes that were clean, pressed and borderline fancy. She told me about how she could hear the other people wondering why she was here, since she obviously didn't need the money. She told me how she would actually have to put on her worst, worn and torn clothes when she went to that place so that she would not feel the sting of words from people who honestly didn't know her situation. She felt that she needed to dress a certain way just to be respected. Heather always wanted to make her own way and being in the system was traumatic and humbling for her. She was grateful for the assistance, but hated the stigma.
Heather got a nursing assistant job at a clinic where childcare was provided for the staff. She eventually got off of every government assistance program, moved out of her depressing townhouse in the Jobless Zone, and got her son the help he needed to be as normal as he could. You see, there are two ways to work the system. You can have more kids so you can get more money handed to you and raise the kids with a mindset that they do not need to earn anything as long as someone is willing to give it to them. Or you can work the system the way it is intended to be worked. Take advantage of the time, money and programs so you can actually get out of the system and raise children that can learn from your work ethic.
I think about Heather frequently and each time, my eyes become misty. Sure, I loved her spirit. I loved to watch her patiently take care of her son and help him do basic things that came so difficult to him. I loved the way we could spend time together, know how screwed up and confused each other was, yet not care. I respect her more than any other person I've ever known. She was low, beaten down, striped of social dignity. She went into the system. Let the system work on her, and she came out the other side as a better person than when she went in. Hope. The system may not be perfect. But if a person is willing to reach up and grasp the extended hand they can be pulled up onto their feet. The system is there for people that need it. But it was never meant to be a lifestyle. I don't know where Heather is now. She took a job, moved and I never received any message she may have left. But she taught me that no matter what, there is a way out. When things are bad, it is never a life sentence. And hope can be birthed, by allowing yourself to completely succumb to your situation, acknowledge that you do not have all the answers, and trust that there really is a purpose to it all.
Wherever she is now, I'm sure that she is doing very well. And I'm also certain that she has no clue how inspiring she is to me, or how much I respect her. She probably doesn't know that I wished I had met her a few years before I did. And she will never know that she taught me what Hope really means: Not wishing that something will happen, but knowing that it actually will.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Things I never thought I would say
But having a kid changes things:
Why are there peas in your diaper?
I don't remember feeding you that!
Don't run with a car in your mouth!
Stop pinching my nipples, they don't work!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Uncle Vern's haunting question
My family is strangely insightful...or maybe just insightfully strange. Whichever the case may be I am constantly astonished at the number of times a member of my family makes a statement or asks a question that stops me in my tracks and makes me recalibrate my mind. Over 18 months ago, at our son's first birthday party, Uncle Vern asked me what seemed like an innocent question. He said "So tell me, what have you learned about being a parent now that you have a year of experience." I was a little stumped. I don't remember exactly what I said, but it probably had something to do with the books being of little help and having to make it all up as we went along.
While I've seen Vern a dozen times or so since then, I'm sure he's never given this conversation another thought or maybe he even forgot about it completely. However, I think about it very often. What have I learned? Mostly I've learned what not to do. Don't yell when the baby spills or drops something because they haven't mastered fine motor skills. Don't make a big fuss when the baby won't eat, that just makes them too upset to swallow. Simple things like that. But it was at our annual Chinese New Year Feast that it occurred to me that I really did learn a few things. Maybe not about being a parent, but I have learned a few things about children and hopefully, I can translate that into some parental skills.
These might be obvious to everyone else, but to me, these things were dramatic revelations.
1) Children learn faster than we do. Our kid is learning three different languages as well as learning how to recognize words when he sees them. Rudimentary reading. I can barely speak English and know a smattering of German, Spanish and ASL. Everyday he says a new word and I'm so shocked by it that I normally need to ask him to repeat it a few times before I understand what he's saying. Imagine if you could learn a new word every day. Worlds of new knowledge would open up to us every few weeks even at that simple pace.
2) Children are naturally fearless. They are only afraid of what we tell them is scary. Think about it. Kids will climb up and on anything they can. Only when they fall a few times do they start to become leery of the height. They look to us for our reaction. If they fall down and are obviously not hurt, yet we react like they just broke their arm, they will learn that whatever they were doing should probably upset them too. I've seen many kids fall down, not get hurt and then scan the room to see if anyone makes a move toward them. At that first motion, they start to cry. They may have been looking for attention, or they may have just learned that they should be afraid of the action. I'm still processing this one.
3) Children look at strangers much differently than adults do. In a city like ours, strangers are mostly harmless, but everyone keeps to themselves while out in public. Being in the big city of Chicago was a little strange for me, not only because there were so many people that it eliminated the personal space I was used to enjoying, but the setting forced social interaction. I remember talking to a lady that was seated at a table butted up against ours. For her, it was normal to talk to a stranger at the cafe. For me it was totally foreign. But the really interesting thing was that the kid didn't care. He doesn't see strangers. He will touch waitresses butts as they walk by (which makes me point at him as soon as they turn around), try to get into women's purses, eat off of other plates if he gets too close, and is not afraid to get a hug from someone he just likes the look of. Social barriers do not exist. I guess this goes back to point 2. They don't know that all strangers are not thinking in their best interests and they should be afraid of some of them. While he happily smiles at everyone we pass, I try to avoid eye contact as much as possible while constantly looking for escape routes. Yeah, I got issues. But hopefully I can learn from the little guy. While I know that as a parent, I should be leery of strangers, but on the other hand, does that mean that I should treat them all as potential kidnappers?
4) Children do not care about skin color. This is really interesting to me and it directly relates to point number 2. Racists are not born, they are trained. While skin color matters little to me, I must admit that when I describe someone, I will think about skin color as one of the defining characteristics, just like a beard or eyeglasses. It's like that book by John Grisham (A Time to Kill) "When you see me, do you see a man? Or do you see a black man?" I have to censor myself when I speak so that skin color does not enter the conversation. The fact that I think about it bothers and offends me. Yet somewhere I learned and it's only with effort that it does not enter conversation. While I think that racism is the wrong word because we are really all the same race, I still bothered when I hear someone make a judgement about someone because of something so silly and uncontrollable. My son will run up to a woman of any color and start flirting with her. While he prefers older women, anyone that is his size fascinates him and he runs to them so he can play. It doesn't matter where we are, he sees all kids as playmates and all adults as good people who don't mean him any harm. Why can't we all do that? Just accept people for the things they say and do.
Maybe the biggest thing I learned about being a parent is that I can learn a lot from my child. Seems like I recall a Jewish man saying something similar while he was preaching in the streets. Come with wide eyes and innocent thoughts. Come with no prejudices or spite. Come knowing full well that our needs will be met before we even know we have them. Come with complete and unwavering trust and faith that we will find the love we seek, the direction we need and protection we deserve. Come with hope. Come with joy. And come with an open heart that does not comprehend hatred.
I hope this is a better answer Uncle Vern. I'm sure more will follow.
While I've seen Vern a dozen times or so since then, I'm sure he's never given this conversation another thought or maybe he even forgot about it completely. However, I think about it very often. What have I learned? Mostly I've learned what not to do. Don't yell when the baby spills or drops something because they haven't mastered fine motor skills. Don't make a big fuss when the baby won't eat, that just makes them too upset to swallow. Simple things like that. But it was at our annual Chinese New Year Feast that it occurred to me that I really did learn a few things. Maybe not about being a parent, but I have learned a few things about children and hopefully, I can translate that into some parental skills.
These might be obvious to everyone else, but to me, these things were dramatic revelations.
1) Children learn faster than we do. Our kid is learning three different languages as well as learning how to recognize words when he sees them. Rudimentary reading. I can barely speak English and know a smattering of German, Spanish and ASL. Everyday he says a new word and I'm so shocked by it that I normally need to ask him to repeat it a few times before I understand what he's saying. Imagine if you could learn a new word every day. Worlds of new knowledge would open up to us every few weeks even at that simple pace.
2) Children are naturally fearless. They are only afraid of what we tell them is scary. Think about it. Kids will climb up and on anything they can. Only when they fall a few times do they start to become leery of the height. They look to us for our reaction. If they fall down and are obviously not hurt, yet we react like they just broke their arm, they will learn that whatever they were doing should probably upset them too. I've seen many kids fall down, not get hurt and then scan the room to see if anyone makes a move toward them. At that first motion, they start to cry. They may have been looking for attention, or they may have just learned that they should be afraid of the action. I'm still processing this one.
3) Children look at strangers much differently than adults do. In a city like ours, strangers are mostly harmless, but everyone keeps to themselves while out in public. Being in the big city of Chicago was a little strange for me, not only because there were so many people that it eliminated the personal space I was used to enjoying, but the setting forced social interaction. I remember talking to a lady that was seated at a table butted up against ours. For her, it was normal to talk to a stranger at the cafe. For me it was totally foreign. But the really interesting thing was that the kid didn't care. He doesn't see strangers. He will touch waitresses butts as they walk by (which makes me point at him as soon as they turn around), try to get into women's purses, eat off of other plates if he gets too close, and is not afraid to get a hug from someone he just likes the look of. Social barriers do not exist. I guess this goes back to point 2. They don't know that all strangers are not thinking in their best interests and they should be afraid of some of them. While he happily smiles at everyone we pass, I try to avoid eye contact as much as possible while constantly looking for escape routes. Yeah, I got issues. But hopefully I can learn from the little guy. While I know that as a parent, I should be leery of strangers, but on the other hand, does that mean that I should treat them all as potential kidnappers?
4) Children do not care about skin color. This is really interesting to me and it directly relates to point number 2. Racists are not born, they are trained. While skin color matters little to me, I must admit that when I describe someone, I will think about skin color as one of the defining characteristics, just like a beard or eyeglasses. It's like that book by John Grisham (A Time to Kill) "When you see me, do you see a man? Or do you see a black man?" I have to censor myself when I speak so that skin color does not enter the conversation. The fact that I think about it bothers and offends me. Yet somewhere I learned and it's only with effort that it does not enter conversation. While I think that racism is the wrong word because we are really all the same race, I still bothered when I hear someone make a judgement about someone because of something so silly and uncontrollable. My son will run up to a woman of any color and start flirting with her. While he prefers older women, anyone that is his size fascinates him and he runs to them so he can play. It doesn't matter where we are, he sees all kids as playmates and all adults as good people who don't mean him any harm. Why can't we all do that? Just accept people for the things they say and do.
Maybe the biggest thing I learned about being a parent is that I can learn a lot from my child. Seems like I recall a Jewish man saying something similar while he was preaching in the streets. Come with wide eyes and innocent thoughts. Come with no prejudices or spite. Come knowing full well that our needs will be met before we even know we have them. Come with complete and unwavering trust and faith that we will find the love we seek, the direction we need and protection we deserve. Come with hope. Come with joy. And come with an open heart that does not comprehend hatred.
I hope this is a better answer Uncle Vern. I'm sure more will follow.
Friday, January 2, 2009
A new year, a new beginning
I do this funny thing. Actually, if you ask around, I probably do many. But the one funny thing that I know I do is a mind wipe at midnight New Years Eve. How this wipe is done seems to change as the years go by. In my younger and wilder days, it might be by drinking myself into a stupor. Now that I'm older and wiser, I find that working out and reading normally does the trick.
This year, however, I built a Lego kit for the FLL Robotics tournament. FLL is the First Lego League and is a challenge to children age 8-14 to research a topic (a different one every year), complete a project of some sort highlighting that topic, do some sort of community outreach with the findings of their project work and finally and most notably, build a robot out of Legos that will perform as many missions on a predefined table as possible. I have volunteered for 3 years now in a variety of ways, but this year, I decided to help build the models that will be used at the State tournament and US Open that will be held in Dayton this year.
Now, I've built Lego things before. I've even made robots. But building the missions for the table is a whole new pile of plastic. I might have been a little over matched. There were over twenty models to build and nearly 1000 pieces of various shapes, sizes and colors in which to build them. Fortunately, they also included instructions. Since I've used Legos most of my life, I figured it would be easy. Until I got digging through the pieces. There were shapes I had never seen before! Legos cut on angles, slopes like a roof, hinge pieces, rubber bands that acted as belts to make things move, gears that caused a house to raise up when a lever was pulled and some pieces that looked like they were mistakes, but somehow managed to fit into the models I was to build.
This task took me nearly all of new years eve to complete. But after a total of 10 hours spread across two nights, I got it completed and my kit, along with 99 more will be used for the two large tournaments we will be hosting this year.
But that's not really why I started to write this. 2008 sucked for us. There were so many problems this past year and so many unexpected expenses (nearly $15,000) that were unplanned, that I was ready for the year to end and for the slate to be cleaned. It is a ritual I do every year. My wife has not yet gotten on board with it, but she soon will, I'm sure. Even though only a few days have passed, whatever happened last week, was last year, and I don't need to worry about that. Time to move on.
While I still have to pay for some of our unexpected expenses this coming year, I know that the problem that precipitated the cost has been solved. Any emotional baggage I have lingering from last year has been checked at the door of 2009. I begin this year, like I've begun all others; with hope, with relief, and with a yearning to see what comes next. 2009 will be interesting because of a job situation, and with the young lad starting some sort of pre-school program. The good news is that most anything that can break in the house already has been replaced. Then again, the last time I said that, the water heater started leaking...and that was just earlier this week! One last kick in the knee from 2008.
Oh well...we persevere. We learn to accept the trials as a lesson rather than a hurdle. We learn that as patient as we think we are, there are still things that can push our buttons, and we learn that we need to get those buttons out of sight so they are more difficult to reach. Each year I have a motto. in 2007, it was "It's Time". In 2008, it was non-existent. Maybe that's why it was so tough for us...no goals. This year, the motto will be patience. All of us in our house have fuses that seem to be cut shorter than average. Or maybe we just know where all the buttons have been hidden. This year, my resolution is to not let my buttons be pushed, while at the same time trying to avoid the buttons of others.
Here's to you doing the same! Whatever happened before Thursday was last year....so let it go already.
This year, however, I built a Lego kit for the FLL Robotics tournament. FLL is the First Lego League and is a challenge to children age 8-14 to research a topic (a different one every year), complete a project of some sort highlighting that topic, do some sort of community outreach with the findings of their project work and finally and most notably, build a robot out of Legos that will perform as many missions on a predefined table as possible. I have volunteered for 3 years now in a variety of ways, but this year, I decided to help build the models that will be used at the State tournament and US Open that will be held in Dayton this year.
Now, I've built Lego things before. I've even made robots. But building the missions for the table is a whole new pile of plastic. I might have been a little over matched. There were over twenty models to build and nearly 1000 pieces of various shapes, sizes and colors in which to build them. Fortunately, they also included instructions. Since I've used Legos most of my life, I figured it would be easy. Until I got digging through the pieces. There were shapes I had never seen before! Legos cut on angles, slopes like a roof, hinge pieces, rubber bands that acted as belts to make things move, gears that caused a house to raise up when a lever was pulled and some pieces that looked like they were mistakes, but somehow managed to fit into the models I was to build.
This task took me nearly all of new years eve to complete. But after a total of 10 hours spread across two nights, I got it completed and my kit, along with 99 more will be used for the two large tournaments we will be hosting this year.
But that's not really why I started to write this. 2008 sucked for us. There were so many problems this past year and so many unexpected expenses (nearly $15,000) that were unplanned, that I was ready for the year to end and for the slate to be cleaned. It is a ritual I do every year. My wife has not yet gotten on board with it, but she soon will, I'm sure. Even though only a few days have passed, whatever happened last week, was last year, and I don't need to worry about that. Time to move on.
While I still have to pay for some of our unexpected expenses this coming year, I know that the problem that precipitated the cost has been solved. Any emotional baggage I have lingering from last year has been checked at the door of 2009. I begin this year, like I've begun all others; with hope, with relief, and with a yearning to see what comes next. 2009 will be interesting because of a job situation, and with the young lad starting some sort of pre-school program. The good news is that most anything that can break in the house already has been replaced. Then again, the last time I said that, the water heater started leaking...and that was just earlier this week! One last kick in the knee from 2008.
Oh well...we persevere. We learn to accept the trials as a lesson rather than a hurdle. We learn that as patient as we think we are, there are still things that can push our buttons, and we learn that we need to get those buttons out of sight so they are more difficult to reach. Each year I have a motto. in 2007, it was "It's Time". In 2008, it was non-existent. Maybe that's why it was so tough for us...no goals. This year, the motto will be patience. All of us in our house have fuses that seem to be cut shorter than average. Or maybe we just know where all the buttons have been hidden. This year, my resolution is to not let my buttons be pushed, while at the same time trying to avoid the buttons of others.
Here's to you doing the same! Whatever happened before Thursday was last year....so let it go already.
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