2012 - My Renaissance

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Happy New Year. 

I am confident on this celebrated holiday evening that I am one of a handful who are spending their time reflecting on the year that has gone by.  Not to say that others have not reflected on this last year.  In fact, I suspect most folks take some time to think about the year gone by.  Generally though, New Year's Eve is not so much a time for reflection as it is a time to celebrate and tonight I am confident that most folks are out and about celebrating the dawn of 2012. 

For me, I am looking forward to 2012.  I am considering it my "renaissance year".  In fact, I actually will be staying up tonight to welcome this renaissance that I am committed to.  The New Year will be a renewal of life for me.  A rebirth if you will.  I feel challenged by such a significant happening in my life and I want to remember the moment when it officially begins. 

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Truth be told, the beginning was months ago when I was awoken to the rather harsh reality of my life.  It was brought to my attention in a forceful and less than flattering way.  I was letting it slip away through melancholy, complacency and ineptitude.  Those are tough words when you use them to describe what you have allowed to happen in your life.  It became crystal clear for me as I started to re-design my professional resume.  First, I realized  I had achieved a great many things through work and secondly, it became clear that I was working for everyone else but myself. 

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As I wrote about my core skills and proficiencies and started to list key accomplishments, I recognized that I had achieved greatness for the organizations I worked for but accomplished very little for myself.  Some would say this smacks of selfishness and it would if I had not demonstrated time and time again, a higher priority for whom I worked for than myself and those I loved.  It was a simple exercise and it became clear that the scales were greatly imbalanced and the results were what I looked at in the mirror every morning. 

It is only fitting that I turn 60 years old in 2012.  Sixty is a good year for a renaissance, my renaissance.  Life will take center stage from here on out.  Work will continue to be important to me but it will no longer define me.  I will find fulfillment in the work that I perform but my passion for life is what will fuel my heart and soul.  This is not an easy transition and it requires incredible self-discipline from someone who's work ethic is beyond reproach.  Each morning, the first thing I do is remind myself of who I am, what I am choosing to be and how I can accomplish that for me. 

No longer do I think about the calls I have to make, the staff I have to supervise or the tasks waiting for me when I arrive at the office.  No more.  Today, it's about sharing my stories, working out at the gym, reading to my heart's content, taking care of my business and trying to extend my life.  It may all sound silly but for me, this truly is a new beginning.  A rebirth at sixty.  I have climbed aboard again but this time, it's not about work, my kids or for that matter, anyone else, it's for me.  My renaissance of sixty.  Happy New Year friends!   

Please Turn Off All Electronic Devices

 We have all heard the words from our friendly flight attendant asking us to turn off all electronic devices as we fasten our seatbelts, put our trays in the upright position and relax for an uneventful flight across this great land of ours.  Why is it that so many folks believe that this friendly message should go unheeded. 

As I am sure you have seen on television or read in the newspaper, Alec Baldwin chose to not only disregard this friendly message but took it a step farther with the flight attendant who asked him to turn off his electronic device.  Obviously, Mr. Baldwin felt that he should have special privileges with his electronic device.  But then again, that's not necessarily the case.  As I am sure you have experienced on flights, there are quite a few folks who choose to disregard the friendly message and find a way to text, use their I pad or laptop.  They try to be sneaky about it but they really aren't fooling anyone. 

What truly is amazing, the friendly message is only for the periods of take-off and landing for most flights.  It says something about us that we are unable to even briefly do without these technological gee-whiz gadgets for even a few minutes.  The insatiable need to be connected and not miss one moment of chat, connectivity or email is catastrophic for some folks.  As things go, I could care less if people want to chat away, text away or surf the web.  What I don't get is not being reasonable about the request from the flight attendant. 

Recently released information on flights and the interference from electronic devices point to a number of instances where these hand-held devices caused disruption of airliner electronics.  Fortunately, in each instance, the offender of the airline policy was found and asked to turn off their electronic device.  Each time they turned it off, the airliner's electronics came back on line and all was fine. 

It seems reasonable enough to me that if there is even a remote chance that an electronic device could disrupt the machine I am flying in, at 30,000 feet mind you, I would think I would want to be cooperative.  What don't these people get.  The rule is there for a reason.  I grow tired of all the criers pronouncing that individual liberties are being trampled on by such a small request.  There truly are serious breaches in our nation of individual rights but this is not one of them.  This is one of those regulations that you need government for.

Just get over it already.  Turn your device off for the first ten minutes of your flight.  The folks you want to text or chat with or game you want to play will still be there when you are allowed to turn your device back on.  Grow Up! 

      

Just Like I Remembered!

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It was not nearly as cold as I remembered it to be.  Of course, Myrtle Beach is not quite like Dayton, Ohio at Christmas time.  Many of those growing up years in Ohio, the ground was covered with the white stuff.  Not here in Myrtle Beach. 

I dressed for the occasion with a red sweater, jeans and my new leather jacket.  The faces were all different than what I remember as a teenager but the smiles, the voices and the enthusiasm were all the same.  My voice, although unpracticed and certainly deeper than those teenage years, enjoyed the experience all the same.

Although I had the provided songbook, the words all came back to me.  I had sung them thousands of times as a young man.  More so than most as my mother was a piano teacher and church organist.  Christmas carols were standard fare around my house from Thanksgiving to Christmas.  All those young students of mom's learning how to play Joy To The World, Silent Night and Jingle Bells. 

Joining the church youth group for their annual Christmas caroling was a blast from the past.  Piling in cars and a van, we visited half a dozen homes and sang to several shut-in seniors.  It was an enjoyable evening bringing just a little bit of Christmas to friends.  We actually sounded pretty good too, given the only practice afforded us was on the drive to the various homes.   

I was somewhat disappointed that no one offered up hot chocolate.  Of course, the outdoor temperature was in the 60's so I probably was the only one of our group that even thought of hot chocolate on such a night.  We did enjoy a plateful of cookies, brownies and a few other Christmas delights.  It was a good time and not all that different than 40 years ago when I participated as a teenager. 

Singing Christmas carols with a group of young people and bringing just a little "good cheer" to those less fortunate was meaningful for me.  Actually, one of the most meaningful experiences I have had in years.  I have always held Christmas close and I have always celebrated Christ's birth.  This Christmas year is more difficult than most and I was glad to have the opportunity to find some joy.  Merry Christmas to you and yours!      

Who does that?

It was a good night.  Earlier in the evening I had successfully completed my first experience back in the classroom.  Unlike so many years before, I didn't even skip a class, fall asleep or leave early.  I was a dedicated student soaking up every bit of information that my teacher shared.  Joining two of my classmates, we stopped nearby for a pizza and to recap our shared experience of learning. 

It was a good time as we learned more about each other and the work we each do.  Saying good night and walking toward our vehicles, I was approached by a maintenance worker who pointed toward my car and asked, "Is that your car?".  I responded affirmatively and he quickly announced that I was victimized by a hit and run.

As I drew nearer to my vehicle it became clear that I had sustained significant damage to the rear end on the driver's side.  My first reaction was disbelief as it had only been six weeks earlier when I was rear-ended on the passenger's side coming out of a grocery store parking lot.  It took two weeks for them to repair the damage of that collision.  My second reaction was the thought of my tentative deal made two days earlier with the local Honda dealership.  That was history now.  No one wants a vehicle that has been in two accidents, let alone one. 

The maintenance man retrieved his supervisor and they both shared the story of the SUV that backed into my vehicle.  As they approached the man driving the SUV,  he floored it and sped away before they could get a good look at his license plate number.  I shared with them my thanks for their diligence and effort on my behalf.  As I spoke with these two gentlemen, I called the police. 

I happen to be one of those folks who have the police number memorized.  It's funny, don't know my own cell phone number but I have memorized the non-emergency police number.  Just one of the many benefits of being a hospitality manager is the frequency with which you call the police.  The traffic officer arrived shortly and took all of our statements.  Looking at my vehicle, he indicated that the SUV evidently had a trailer hitch as he said the hole in my bumper was caused by one. 

The officer indicated he had patrolled the parking lot just thirty minutes earlier and that he was going to look through his tape to see if he would notice the SUV.  He had the cruiser that has the cameras mounted on the trunk which is used to identify stolen vehicles.  As he reviewed the tape in his cruiser, it became evident that he had not driven the row where my car was parked.  Unfortunate but I appreciated his effort.

Why does someone hit your car and leave without informing you or calling the police?  What's that about?  I'm sure the individual had insurance.  South Carolina requires it and most drivers have it.  His risk in leaving the scene of an accident if apprehended would have been far greater resulting in fines and perhaps suspension of his license.  More to the point, why victimize someone.  Me, in this case. 
I have yet to have the car repaired.  I am sulking about it.  It is such a great inconvenience.  I have to arrange to rent a car.  I have to give up my car for probably two weeks.  I have to pay my deductible.  It just doesn't seem fair.  This is the second time I have been a victim of a hit and run.  The last time I was actually in the car when the truck sped away. 

I feel sorry for the man who hit me.  Maybe he thinks he got away with it and it doesn't bother him.  On the other hand, he may have panicked and now regrets his action.  Either way, he will have to live with the fact that he damaged my car and failed to report it.  For me, it's just a matter of having my car fixed.  For him, who knows - maybe regret.    

Talking and Texting - End of the Road

Today, The National Transportation Safety Board announced a concerted effort to institute a nationwide effort to stop drivers from talking and texting on their cell phones while driving.   They want a ban in all fifty states outlawing all non-emergency phone calls and texting by operators of every vehicle on the road.  Their ban would apply to all hands-free as well as hand held devices.  Exclusion would be in place for those devices installed within the vehicle by the manufacturer.

 

The nationwide ban would not apply to those in passenger seats, only the operator of the vehicle.  As we all know, cell phone usage, texting and other distractions lead to traffic accidents and deaths each year.  The National Transportation Safety Board has linked over 3,000 deaths annually to distracted driving.  Most folks in accidents either lie or fail to disclose that they were distracted by cell phone usage.  The Safety Board reports that over 13.5 million Americans are on their cell phones at any given time during daylight hours while driving their vehicle.

 

These numbers are huge.  Currently, 35 states have banned text messaging while driving and ten of those states also ban hand held usage entirely.  Another 30 states ban cell-phone usage by novice drivers.   Like everyone else, I see vehicle operators driving carelessly all the time while talking on their cell phone.  Those that text are even further distracted by taking their eyes off the road.

I freely admit that I am guilty of both talking on my cell phone as well as texting while driving.  The cell phone usage does not particularly concern me but I know that I am distracted when I choose to text while driving.  Recently, I made the decision to stop texting while driving because I know it’s an accident waiting to happen.  I do not want to have to explain why I’m sitting in a ditch or hit the vehicle in the next lane because I was sending a silly message to one of my children or employees. 

Lest we forget, we operated for years without these hand held devices, communication tools and connectivity that we enjoy today.  If it is all that important, it’s easy enough to pull off the road into a safe area and respond to the text message you received.  Same could be said for the phone calls if it comes to a nationwide ban on cell phone usage entirely.  Frankly, I am one of those folks who could very easily cast my cell phone aside and not feel any hint of regret.  Being continually accessible is not always a good thing.  I can remember when I wasn’t all that easy to find, especially when I was on the golf course. 

Text messaging and driving is nearly every bit as dangerous as is drinking and driving.  I believe every state should endorse the National Transportation Safety Board’s recommendation and make it a nationwide ban.  If they do, then education and enforcement will be the key to its successful implementation.  

Lost Your Christmas Spirit - Go Find It!

Every so often we get caught up in the stress of the holiday season and it can take a toll on one’s feelings about Christmas.  It might be the personal loss you feel during the holiday season for a loved one.  It might be as simple as too much to do in such a short period of time.  It might be the financial stress you feel wanting to make sure that everyone has a great Christmas.  It might be the hustle and bustle; all the traffic and crowded stores that are getting to you.  Whatever the case, don’t let the Christmas holidays get the best of you.

I love Christmas.  I love the Christmas carols, the Christmas cookies, the giving of gifts, the Christmas trees and the excitement I see in little ones.  I love seeing people shop, all dressed up, the Christmas shows, going to church and seeing Santa at every turn.  It’s all great fun.  Is the season over commercialized?  Of course it is.  It is possible though to keep everything in balance if you choose to.

I think most people remember that Christmas is about the birth of Jesus.  I really do.  Sure, we get caught up in all the trimmings and stress of the holiday but in the end, we do indeed celebrate the birth of Christ.  Everyone does it a little differently and that’s part of what makes it all the more special.  The trimmings, the store Santa, the shopping and gift giving all contribute to our celebration of his birth. 

I know when I feel in danger of losing my Christmas spirit, there are several things I can do to help bring me back around.  First and foremost for me is attending a worship service and singing the Christmas carols I remember caroling as a youngster.  Those magical hymns and songs bring joy to any heart.  Secondly, I find my way to Santa and watch the little ones with all the wonder in their eyes waiting to sit on Santa’s lap.  There is nothing like a toddler seeing Santa for the first time.  I cherish the memories I have of my three children seeing Santa. 

For me, I embrace my memories of Christmas.  I remember the plastic bowling ball set I received when I was ten.  I remember the anxiety I felt buying my first Christmas present at 19 years old for my girlfriend.  I remember how alone I felt at Christmas when I was in the Army.  I remember how my own children in those first few years were always more fascinated with the boxes and wrapping paper than the gifts.  I remember the book of coupons with special gifts I received from my love.  I remember how Christmas brought a family in great despair the hope and inspiration they all needed to persevere.    

All these memories of love and celebration are with me today.   I may not have the Christmas I would hope for this year but I will keep Christmas close and in my heart.   If you have lost your Christmas spirit, go find it.  It’s waiting for you in your most cherished memories. 

Questions-Questions-Questions

Have you ever submitted a question for a Presidential debate?  You know, when they are advertising for the political debates, they always encourage people to email, text, facebook or twitter debate questions to them.  I imagine there are some folks who sit around and anxiously await these opportunities to submit their questions to the candidates.

I suspect that some spend hours fine-tuning just the right question in hopes that their question will be selected and used.  I recently participated in this exercise submitting three different questions for Republican candidates on stage in Detroit. 

It seemed odd to me but none of my questions made the big time.  In other words, they were not selected.  What's that about it?  I worked hard on the questions.  I made sure they were grammatically correct and spelled properly.  I asked important, topical questions.  I framed them to appear as a moderate independent or actually a moderate Republican.  I was actually taken back that not one of my three questions were asked.  I stayed within the national security discussion with my questions so it could not have been that.

I actually used my new-found social-media skills by tweeting one question, facebooking another and emailing the third.  I was really proud of that as I still have no clue what I'm doing with all that social-media stuff.  I figured that one of my questions would be a winner.  As the debate proceeded and question after question was asked, I kept thinking that my questions were significantly better-written, more profound and immensely more important than the ones that were being asked.  Why did they select their questions over mine?

I actually thought about protesting to CNN with a letter of outrage.  Just kidding!  Not giving up though.  There's one scheduled for later this week and I have already submitted five questions this time.  I figure my odds will be better submitting five.   If none are selected this week, I will still have plenty of opportunities going forward as the political season is only starting to heat up.  Just hoping this isn't like the lottery - I don't have much success playing it either.  Of course, it would help if I actually bought a ticket.      

Saturday Night - The Mall

Have you ever noticed the strange comings and goings when sitting in the food court of your favorite mall?  The food court has become one of my new favorite hangouts to relax, watch people and write.  Lots of noise, bunches of interesting people and always, always plenty of food to choose from.  Tonight it’s pizza from Sbarro’s .  Those are the large slices with lots of ingredients on them. Nice and greasy too.   I’m actually having a slice of mushroom and a slice of pepperoni tonight.  I normally order a pepperoni and mushroom but they didn’t have that combo so I am alternating between each slice so I receive the pepperoni-mushroom effect.  I can tell that my fellow diners think I’m rather odd munching on two separate slices at a time while typing on my laptop. 

Actually, this is the first slice of pizza I have had in a long time.  The folks sitting across from me at the picnic table are questioning what I am doing.  They seem to think it’s odd.  Maybe so but within eyeshot, I can see at least thirty teenagers and adults texting away on their cell phones.  I’m not so odd after all unless they were motioning with their hands about the way I’m eating my pizza slices.  I’m breaking all the rules of computer safety having my drink and pizza so close to my screen, not to mention my greasy fingers that are probably leaving smudges on my brand new laptop.  Not too worried about it today.  This has not been a great day for me. 

I just may have to stop at Dunkin Donuts later and grab a couple of donuts.  I generally go right to the food when I’m feeling a little down and out.  That describes today in a nutshell.  I figured coming to the mall would lift my spirits and if eating pizza and drinking a diet Pepsi doesn’t do it, then maybe I’ll go drop a couple of hundred and help grow the economy.   I’m always amazed that you can be out shopping at the Mall and not run into anybody you know.  Not always but sometimes.  I would understand it if I was out of town but right here in my own community, you would think that someone would spy the weird guy typing on his laptop and come over and bug me.  Truth is, I’m getting a lot of avoidance from people lately.  Maybe I’ve developed some type of body odor or something even worse.  Hope not.

Alright, back to the strange comings and goings here at the Mall.  I’m sure you have noticed at your mall that everyone hanging out there is younger than you are.  That’s getting to be the case pretty much where ever I go these days.  The mall seems to have a greater population of younger people.  This isn’t a recent phenomenon, but it really is noticeable on a Saturday Night.  I don’t believe I have ever been in the food court on a Saturday Night alone.  One observation I have noticed is that I wish I would have invented the”hoodie”.  Everywhere you turn, there’s somebody in a hooded sweatshirt.  I never remember them being such a big deal when I was a kid.  I know we must have had them but I seem to have forgotten what the fashions were back in the sixties when I was dressing like a teenager. 

Tonight, the community area where I am sitting is filled with a diverse group of people.  You have the young couples in their thirties sitting across from me who were obviously questioning my eating habits.  Then you have ten teenagers squeezed together at the adjacent picnic table.  Two seniors eating to my left who look like deer in headlights.  Myrtle Beach is a resort community-these folks are probably from Ohio, West Virginia or some other unpopulated community.  Right behind me is Mom, Dad and two little ones, no, make that three with one in a stroller.  The kids are climbing all over their table and Dad is trying to control them while Mom is cooing sweet little nothings to the baby in the stroller. 

It’s all fascinating to me.  I’ve always been engaged in conversation or listening when I’ve sat at the mall.  I also read my magazines when I sit in the food court.  In other words, I have never paid much attention to the comings and goings of the mall patrons.  Most folks seem to be smiling quite a bit.  Happy folks here at the mall.  I guess maybe that’s why I chose to come tonight.  I needed a good pick-me-up and I knew there would be lots of folks here-easier for me to keep my emotions under control. 

This article reminds me of Seinfeld-absolutely nothing.  I’m just going on and on about nothing.  Oh, the little girl in the stroller is talking to me, laughing and giggling.  I love little ones.  They’re so much fun as long as they belong to someone else.  Babies and tiny tots do indeed like me.  Something about me I’m sure.  Maybe it is because I’m different.  At least the little ones pay attention to me.  The crowds are dissipating now.  You can tell that many are getting ready to re-engage with their shopping efforts.  For me, the mall experience tonight was all about being around people.  It was fun.  I’m sure it’s like this all the time; I just never took the time to notice.  I may even try the shopping thing.      

Black Friday - An Event Like No Other

For weeks now, all the department stores and big box stores have been communicating their messages to us about how big "Black Friday" would be at their store.  Sharing with us all the specials, discounts and offers they would have available for us.  The media tagged along with all types of reports leading up to the biggest shopping day of the year.  Thursday's newspaper was filled with advertisements announcing all the great deals that would be available at the respective stores.  The newspaper seemed twice as heavy as a Sunday paper.    Thanksgiving has really become the prelude to Black Friday for the committed and savvy shopper. 

Ever the shopping enthusiast, I just had to take a peek and see what kind of response there would be here in Myrtle Beach.  I wasn't planning on going into a store to shop.  Rather, I was interested in seeing what crowds there were and how many cars were in the parking lots.  You see the news reports and occasionally speak to someone who actually participated but I was interested and wanted some first-hand knowledge.  My interest is sparked on several different levels.  First and foremost, I am interested to see how this year's event (what else can we call it) would be affected by the poor economic conditions we have.  Secondly, I wanted to get a glimpse of the madness if you will of all the people who were up all day long preparing Thanksgiving meals and still had energy enough to meet the crowds head-on to secure their special Christmas gifts. 

Oh my God.  My first stop was at one of our local Wal-Mart superstores.  Cars were parked in every possible parking spot as well as the adjacent store parking lots.  Wal-Mart stayed open throughout the day so there were was no waiting going on.  Driving around the corner, I wanted to check out Best Buy.  I had always heard the crowds at Best Buy were actually camped out hours in advance to snap-up the early bargains.  Word had it too that Best Buy was showing outdoor movies at some of their locations.  As I approached Best Buy, the line in anticipation of getting into the store completely encircled the store.  Almost all of folks in line had beach chairs and looked well-prepared for their wait. 

My two sons, Tim and Dan, had ventured out to the Tanger Outlet Mall west of town.  They had asked if I wanted to tag along.  I declined but asked for an update on the crowd.  They reported that all the parking spaces were taken and there was a huge crowd everywhere for the eye to see.  I moved on to my next location, another popular Wal-Mart located only a few short miles from the one I had just visited.  Once again, the parking lot was overwhelmed with cars with the nearby fast food restaurant, pharmacy and strip mall filled completely with cars. 

It was official.  The early results based on my personal reconnoiter convinced me that Black Friday was alive and well right here in Myrtle Beach.  It was as if no one was home sleeping this night as everyone must have been out at the stores.  I did not wait around at any of stores to see what was being purchased or how many bags of gifts were being toted out to vehicles but I suspect the early crowd was spending some serious money.  Given these tough economic times, it would appear that folks had put some money aside for this extraordinary shopping day.  Any casual observer would have responded with, "what recession?" or "sluggish economy?" 

We are an interesting and complex species, the American consumer.  We happily fall right in line with what we are encouraged and motivated to perform when we receive the right set of messages or direction.  For retail America, they have us pretty well figured out.  Who cooks all day long, entertains and makes sure that all family members are taken care of and then stays up and ventures out into the throngs of humanity to pick-up that special gift or cartful of gifts.  We do as we have been conditioned to do so.  Pavlov might really enjoy seeing his behavioral theories come to life on a Black Friday. 

We're a funny, predictable and yet unpredictable bunch, we Americans.  Give us the right motivation and we really will respond.  We love to shop.  Makes us feel good about ourselves.  No question.  Provide us with the right set of incentives and we will come out in force.  Makes you wonder what things could be accomplished on a national scale if we employed "Black Friday" motivators and incentives.  Something to think about as you are jostled about this holiday shopping season.         

A Thanksgiving Alone

We have all sung the song, "Over the hills and through the woods to Grandmother's house we go".  At Thanksgiving, this song always comes to mind for some reason.  I imagine my mother used to sing the song to her three boys when we were young and making the annual pilgrimage to little Dola, Ohio for Thanksgiving dinner.  Going to Grandma's house at Thanksgiving is a tradition for most American families.  Of course, at some point, it becomes picking up Grandma and bringing her home to your house where someone younger can handle the stress and complexity of cooking for the whole clan of family members. 

I remember fondly those early years of going to Grandma's house.  It was always pretty special.  I can even remember as a child the year we broke down on the road and someone helped us fix our car so that we could continue the trip.  As I had my own children, I remember fondly taking my children to my mother's house, their grandmother's house, for the Thanksgiving feast.  We would generally get to both our parents homes on Thanksgiving Day and actually have two meals.  One would always be the traditional turkey dinner and other would be a Leg of Lamb dinner.  Both were wonderful and delicious. 

My mother and I were reminiscing about these experiences on the phone earlier this afternoon when she told that this would be her fourth consecutive year of not being with family on Thanksgiving Day.  I was stunned.  I absolutely felt awful and so very guilty.  She said she had come to terms with it.  That's Grandma code for she is not happy about it at all.  My mother is 91 years old.  How many more Thanksgiving dinners will there be for her and for any of her family spending time with her.  Amazing how we forget what's important in this life.    

Being 12 hours away is hardly an excuse for me.   For a few moments, I considered getting in my car and making the drive non-stop all the way to Ohio.  Had I not already committed to working I would have made the trip.  Once again, allowing work to interfere with what is most important.  This lesson of balancing my life with work is still a project that needs more self-discipline.  What have I been thinking all these years not to be making a special effort every year to get home and spend time with my mother around the holidays.  I was there last year the week before Thanksgiving.  That was a very special trip and one that I will always hold dear.     

My mother is still teaching me life's lessons as I approach 60 years of age.  She understood why I was unable to come home.  She wasn't disappointed in me for not being able to make the trip.  It was I who felt guilty and ashamed.  My mother  tops the list of people I am very thankful for on this most wonderful holiday of the year.  She is always there for me.  A kind heart, a caring voice and a listening ear.  All of the most important things you need from your Mom.  If only I could be more of the same to her as a son as she is to me as a mother.    

Happy Thanksgiving Mom. 

I'm Not Like Those Men

Fifteen years ago I fell prey to what many men in their forties experience, a mid-life crisis and the resulting extramarital affair.  Like most men who have this experience, we are the bunch that would be the first to tell you that we would be the least expected to fall into this trap.  "No one ever expected me to have an affair", we would almost proudly announce.  "I was the last person anyone would expect to get involved with another woman".  We all have shared these pronouncements as if in some fashion or another it makes it all okay.  For some of us, these phrases are perhaps true but nevertheless we did say yes to the other woman and jeopardize life as we knew it. 

For the lucky few,  they get a divorce and move on with their life.  No serious repercussions and life continues forward without great pause.  For others, the ones who really do fit into the category that this should never have happened to me, life takes a whole different path.  A downward spiral perhaps, a period of unending guilt or even a period of lost years.  Those who fall into the whole guilt mode find themselves without purpose, without meaning and a sense of unworthiness.  They tend to allow their feelings of guilt propel them into an endless period of time where little about them really matters.  Self-worth becomes threatened and a willingness to just let life happen without direction, motivation and even enthusiasm for it.  More aptly called depression. 

Years go by and they still haven't made the commitment to themselves to get back up, dust themselves off and make an intentional move forward.  They do take steps forward but they also falter backwards.  The old saying of one step forward but two back fits this group of men fairly accurately.  The lucky ones somewhere along the line get a wake-up call, seek counseling or find a way to suck it up and start taking charge.  Some men experience all three of these and still are unable to break free of what haunts them.  The fortunate ones eventually find hope, struggle with that hope and more often than not, live with the fear of failing again. 

For me, it has been all of this.  The unending guilt for years.  The resultant depression, sometimes helped with medication and sometimes not.  The lack of self-esteem, the lack of caring and enthusiasm for one's self.  The fears however are the most pervasive of all.  You seem to work through the guilt, mostly thanks to counseling.  The depression comes and goes and is greatly aided by work, immense, all-consuming work.  The fears of failing again in a relationship and experiencing life take the familiar path downward is far and away the most significant.  Breaking through those fears is the last and most difficult barrier to overcome. 

Fear is a real feeling.  We all have some level of fear within us.  For some, it may be losing our job.  Others, it may be fear of being injured or sick.  The list goes on and on.  For me, it has always been about being exposed for who I truly am.  Not the person I portend to be.  That person who feels that any level of success is never enough.  The person who feels that they haven't lived up to their expectations and are even fearful to risk doing the work to try.  It's crazy how the mind works and how many factors of living your whole life come into play when facing these issues of fear. 

Some folks would scoff at the fears that another person has.  Some would ridicule the simplest of fears.  Others would pronounce them away as insignificant, unnecessary things to worry about.  For the person with those fears, they are real and no matter how persuasive someone else can be to alleviate those fears, they are tough to abolish from one's mind.  Facing my fears only came a few months ago when the one person that I respect and love the most, shook me to the core with the hard, cold truth of what I was doing and what I was not doing.  It was a very painful, hurtful experience but one that thankfully finally happened. 

Hearing yourself being exposed by the person who knows you best is tough stuff.  Hearing your failings thrust at you like a series of dodge balls with each exposure hurting more than the previous one.  It's no fun.  To listen to the words of anger and frustration is as hard it gets.  The heart of it though is being able to sit there and listen to it.  It takes a tremendous amount of courage, strength and character to tell someone you love what it is about you that they object to.  At first, you are shell shocked from the experience.  It's like how they described our bombing in Iraq, "shock and awe".  Then comes the cowering, the tail between the legs because you know you have been called out for what you are.  Next, a period of reflection, consideration and understanding. Finally, a willingness, a motivation and a determination to change begins to take shape. 

You struggle with it at first because you know not how to move forward.  Then, slowly, ever so slowly, you begin the process of taking one step forward.  This time, there are no steps backward.  You take another step, yet none going in reverse.  Then two steps, three steps and even an understanding that you might fall back some but you can rejoice in knowing that you are taking more steps forward than you are backward.  You begin to feel some level of control again for your life.  You recognize that not everything you are doing in your life is necessarily what you should be doing.  You may not be able to change that right away but you determine to build a plan to eventually change that aspect of your life too.   

The fears still linger beneath the surface, no question.  However, they are now fears that can be managed.  Like a fear of falling out of a boat into the water and drowning, climbing a tree and falling, being fearful of the dark.  Being able to manage the fear is the real trick and what allows us to live our daily life rather than shutting the world out and not taking any risk at all.  It's been a long road for me and I'm sure for many others who have experienced a similar life story.  The beauty of it all and the hope for others who have not found my good fortune, is that it can come to you.  You just have to open your heart and mind to it and hope that someone loves you enough to set you free. 

  

FACEBOOK

FACEBOOK

    Eyes Wide Open Now

I now understand all those programs on television that warn parents about making sure they take a peek every now and again at their children's Facebook pages.  This past week, I joined Facebook to help grow my publishing and writing business.  Of course, I had to enlist the assistance of my youngest son, Daniel, who has been a proud member for quite some time.  He had me set-up in a matter of minutes and quickly hustled me through some of the highlights of Facebook. 

Only two days later, did I sign-on and get my first real glimpse of social media.  There was my Facebook mentor, Daniel, with some type of box on his head sporting a pair of Speedos and nothing else.  So much for any elected office position for the baby of the family.  Actually, I think the wrist tatoo probably did him in a few years back.  Amazingly, Facebook offers a real slice of young and old America and what they are thinking and doing.  This is quite an adventure, this Facebook stuff.

It's funny how I have encouraged my staff at my last two positions to keep our properties updated on Facebook without really understanding what this site is all about.  I should have joined  years ago and would not have missed out on some fairly good opportunities to share our property stories.  Nevertheless, it is interesting to be a part of the scene today.  I already have 11 Facebook friends and haven't even begun the process of looking for any. 

Currently, I am only connected with the PC sitting on my desk.  That's old school as most of the kids and a fair amount of adults have it on their smart phones.  My phone isn't all that smart, it just rings and beeps all the time.  I can't imagine it being busier than it already is and can't see how I could possibly get through a day with the constant vibrating of my phone alerting me to every Facebook entry or email.  I wonder how business people who stay connected with Facebook are able to get any work done at all. 

It is true that Facebook is a tremendous resource for connecting with other people, friends and family.  I see the daily posts of my daughter who lives and works in Kentucky.  I see the comings and goings of my youngest, my mentor Daniel.  My oldest son, Tim, only ventures a comment here and there as he is so busy with school and work, Facebook participation for him is infrequent.  I keep thinking it is too bad that the United States Postal Service didn't come up with the Facebook model.  They started the whole communication thing and now they are being left in the dust. 

It actually is estimated that the average person only receives one letter of a personal nature every seven weeks.  How many of us can remember waiting by the mailbox for that special letter from Grandma or Grandpa.  Maybe a son who was serving overseas, a sweetheart away for the summer or the dreaded college grades that always kept us on the edge of our seat.  One has to wonder if the Selective Service ever had a draft again, would it send out letters or postings to Facebook pages. 

I still don't quite have the hang of it yet when it comes to Facebook.  I need my mentor to pop by and give me some more tutoring.  I do think about the thousands of people I have had contact with during my life, especially during my YMCA years, all those staff members, all those campers - where are all of them today.  Facebook is going to open the door and quite a few windows as I begin the process of reconnecting with hundreds, perhaps thousands of younger people who once for a brief period of time, were a part of my life. 

ROTTEN TOMATOES

ROTTEN TOMATOES

    Happy Halloween

If recollection serves me, it was Halloween Eve in 1960 when I went along with my two older brothers on my first adventure of Halloween mischief.  Only eight years old, not sure how and why I was allowed as I hardly ever was included in their adventures.  I was the look-out. 

Meriline Avenue was a sleepy little street with lots of homes spaced closely together.  Like most neighborhoods back then, ours was fairly close-knit and everyone living on the street knew the Brown Boys.  We were an active bunch and we had parents who allowed us to be boys.  That meant that we could get dirty playing outside.  Not all the kids on the block were allowed such freedom. 

Every neighborhood has one and Meriline Avenue was no exception.  Grumpy old men who forgot long ago what it was like to be a young man wanting to have fun and looking for ways to express it.  Our neighborhood had such a man and his name was Mr. Webb.  Unfortunately for the Brown Boys, he lived only two houses down from ours.  Mr. Webb was always put out by the loud and active behavior coming from two houses up from his.  Basketball playing all hours of the day and long into the evening. 

Our backyard was a basketball court and everyone played, even Mom sometimes.  She always reminded us of her glory days at Ohio Northern University.  She would tell us how she was always pushed toward the foul line when one of her teammates was fouled.  She was a very good free-throw shooter.  Mr. Webb would complain loudly to the father of the Brown Boys about the basketball playing and all the activity that would be going on in our backyard.  Dad listened but also recognized that his boys were not doing any harm.  He would only remind us to try our best not to let the basketball go over into Mr. Webb's yard.  Mr. Webb didn't like that.  I can remember my brothers being pretty annoyed with Mr. Webb and his continual complaints to Dad.  That's what made Mr. Webb a good target at Halloween time. 

I was putting together my costume for Halloween when I overheard Jim and Bob, my older brothers, scheming about their planned attack on Mr. Webb's house.  I was always dressing up as a hobo, a popular costume for a young boy who didn't have all the options of dress-up that kids have today.  Now that I remember, I'm pretty sure I was only allowed to participate in the adventure because I overheard their planning.  Otherwise, I'm sure I would have been left behind. 

Jim made it clear to me that I was to stay near the street with a clear vision of both sides of Mr. Webb's house.  He and Bob had the soap and they would be soaping his windows that were on either side of the front door.  I was encouraged to throw feed corn at the house once they were done soaping the windows.  Sure enough, Jim and Bob made their way onto Mr. Webb's porch and started soaping the windows.  I think they were using Ivory Soap which was my Mom's preferred product. 

Everything was going as planned until a deep, dark voice boomed out, "having fun there, Jim".  Jim thought it was his brother Bob who was speaking to him.  He was wrong.  Grumpy old Mr. Webb had sneaked around his house without me seeing him.  Mr. Webb started throwing rotten tomatoes at Jim and Bob and all three of us ran away defeated and waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

As it turned out, Mr. Webb didn't report the news to Dad as Jim and Bob beat him to the punch.  Needless to say, the Brown Boys had to do some cleaning up.  For me, it was a great Halloween as I still got to go trick or treating the next night and for one night, I was along on a great adventure with my two big brothers. 

New Leather Jacket...Never Quite The Right One.

  

For years now I have been on the annual quest to purchase a good leather jacket.  Each year I always came up empty because there was always something about the ones I looked at that didn't quite meet my expectations.  Maybe it was the color, the style or sometimes it was the actual cost.  At the same time, I was never really confident that a leather jacket would suit my personality.  There was always some reason that kept me from purchasing one. 

That all changed a week ago when my son, Tim, mentioned to me that Joseph A. Banks had a sale going on and everything was on sale.  I decided to take a look and much to my surprise, there it was.   Hanging prominently as you first walk in the store.  It was the style I had been looking for.  It was definitely the right color and texture of leather.  Taking off my Under Armour fleece jacket and draping it over the other jackets, I reached to pull the jacket off the rack. 

As I put one arm in, it seemed awfully heavy to me.  Fortunately, the salesman stopped over and unlocked the chain that was attached to it.  Unbeknownst to me, the leather jackets were all strapped in with heavy cable and locks.  I  guess being so close to the front door, they don't have much choice.  Once the lock was opened, the jacket wasn't nearly as heavy. 

Slipping it on, God, it felt great.  I started walking to the full length mirror full of anticipation.  Immediately, I liked the look and especially how it looked on me.  I stood there admiring myself.  I soon realized I hadn't looked at the price yet and now I was sure I would once more be disappointed in one of the key reasons I had never purchased one before. 

Sure enough, $700.  Wow!  I was thinking maybe $450.  The sale was 50% off so I was thinking I might walk out of the store with a new jacket and the billfold $250 light.  A bit resigned as I took it off,  the salesman asked what I thought.  I told him that I liked it a lot but I needed to take a look at a couple of other stores.  He indicated that he wanted to check on a special offer that was available. 

Once at the sales counter, he started looking through some kind of book.  "That's what I thought", he said.  "What's that?, I asked.  "I can do that jacket at 70% off".  "I'll take it", was my quick response.  Finally, I walked out of a store with a new leather jacket that I knew I would be happy with and it only set me back $228.00 including tax. 

Later in the day I had to take it out of its plastic bag and share it with Tim who told me of the sale.  He really liked it.  I told him I really liked it too.  It was the right color, the right style, the right texture and best of all, the right price.  There's something else about it too I mentioned but I wasn't quite sure what it was. 

As Tim put the jacket on and admired himself in the car window, he sniffed at the jacket.  "Wow, I love that smell", he said to me.  "Smells like my baseball glove".  That was it.  I knew it immediately then.  My long-love for my best baseball glove of years gone by.  My jacket smelled just like my old baseball glove, affectionately referred to as "Brownie" by me and all my friends.  My father bought me that oversized Rawlings glove when I was ten years old.  I used it well into my twenties, even when I played for the First Army team.  I will now have three great memories every time I put my leather jacket on.  My father, my glove Brownie and my son, Tim.