Ask someone on the street what the worlds most precious commodity is and you are likely to get different answers.
Some may say oil, or its refined version gasoline. Certainly it is of great importance to developed countries, and even more so to developing countries like China, where access to oil may limit its growth.
Ask a 21 year old and you are likely to get the answer Alcohol (because of its ability to replace fossil fuels no doubt)
An investor may say gold or silver, a Florida farmer might answer orange juice.
Ask a person anywhere outside the North American continent, and the answer is most likely to be clean drinking water. What we take for granted here is of such vital importance elsewhere in the world that people routinely die due to the lack of it. I read an article that said 2.2 million deaths per annum occur from unsanitary water - ninety percent of these are children under the age of five.Sot
Even in the good ol' USA there isn't always the cleanest water (take Florida for instance). The water is always safe, but due to high sulfur content or other impurities, it doesn't smell or taste the best, but no one ever died from drinking it.
I take it for granted that when I turn on the faucet, clean disease free water is there for me to drink, cook with, bathe in, water my lawn with, or to simply watch it go down the drain if i choose. Since I read the article I started conserving water. I no longer wait for the hot water to fill the tea kettle. I catch the cold water before it warms for the shower, in a bottle (OK i don't catch it all) and use that to brush my teeth. I turn the water off after I am soaped and shampooed up, then turn it back on to rinse. I stopped running the water to clean the dishes and started filling a sink to rinse them all. I need to do more to be more water conscious, but at least its a start. This blog is not really about water. Its about all the things I take for granted. I made a list, and I will eventually share the whole list with you
Food: I take for granted the unprecedented access we have in America to safe, disease free food, and that I can get it 24/7/365 in a variety never before available to a population. Asian pears, Italian olive oil, Greek olives, wine cheese and champagne from France, Pistachios from Iran, fruits and vegetables that are not in season here are imported from Chile and other other South American Countries, Lamb from New Zealand, Ham from Poland, Crab from Alaska, Pineapple from Hawaii, and a thousand other things, just by going to COSTCO
Education: Both my girls were not just allowed to go to school, they were required to go (as was I). In many countries, education is only for the privileged. In some countries the sign on the education door says "no women", or "no poor". In poorer nations the children must go to work to help the family survive. Here EVERYONE has the same opportunity to get an education, and to better themselves as a result. Some people think our educational system is flawed. The fault lies not with the system of education in our country, but with the Parents, School Boards, Administrators, Union officials, and Teachers (in that order) of the failing school systems. The system itself is the best in the world, and attracts the best and the brightest from around the world. If your school system is failing you, the fault lies first with the Parents.
Freedom: We have unprecedented freedoms here. We have the freedom to vote, and to recall officials who do not serve us the way we elected them to. We have the freedom to believe in the God of our choice, without the fear of being killed for the way we believe. We have the freedom to speak, and although we may face harsh criticism for voicing our opinions (our detractors have the same freedom to speak as we do!) we do not get put in jail or threatened with a jihad for voicing our opinions. We have the freedom to travel without restrictions or special permissions. We have the freedom to congregate and protest against that which we believe is wrong. We have the freedom to keep and bear arms. We have way too many freedoms to list here. The Freedom commodity draws more people to America than any other. When people complain about limiting our freedoms (like making us get a background check before buying a handgun), I have to laugh. Send the whiners to China, or Russia, or Cuba, (pick any country without a representative democracy, and 1/2 the ones who do!), for a week to learn what real oppression is.
Family: Like most people I take my family for granted. Not that I don't love them, I do. I just don't tell them enough, and I assume way to much. They take me for granted as well (the whole circle of life thing). I don't have time to go into great detail, nor is it very interesting, Suffice it to say my kids think my wife and I were put here to pay their bills, bring them food and drink, and clean up after them (wow, I just realized my kids think they are the Pharaohs and my wife and I are the slaves!)
There are many more precious commodities I take for granted, way to many to write about in one sitting.
Today I am going to be grateful for all the things I take for granted. I am going to God for the gifts he has given me and my family. I am going to thank my mom for always being there when I most needed her. I am going to thank my dad for all the great training he gave me. I am going to thank my wife for standing by me when most women would have fled. I can't decide whether to be grateful to my girls for trying hard to live up to my high expectations, or to beat them with a stick for not being more grateful for all the opportunities we have given them (I'll probably skip the beating for now)
If we all took our gifts a little less for granted, it may not make the world a better place, but it will make us better people.
My opinion, and in America I can have it, speak openly about it (while drinking clean water, carrying a gun, eating a sandwich, protesting against the war in Iraq, and studying for an advanced degree) if I feel like it!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Daddy's and Daughters
I have two teenage daughters. As I continue to write, I'm sure a large percentage of my topics will revolve around them.
My wife has this great relationship with her dad. Worship is not the right word, since my wife reserves that for God, but her dad comes in a close second. I always wanted that kind of relationship with my daughters, but the older they get, the less I believe that will happen.
I think if I had sons, I would feel differently, less protective. They are (would be) boys after all. All you need to do with boys is teach them how to take care of themselves. Toughen ‘em up and turn ‘em loose on an unsuspecting world, and watch them go! Of course, since I have no sons, I am sure I am wrong. Dad’s (good ones anyway) are probably just as protective of their sons as I am of my daughters.
One of the biggest concerns I have is that my girls find the right guy. We live in a suburb of
It seems that Dirtbag met a gal in one of our casinos, and the two of them hit it off. A week later, he had her pick him up for their first date. Now all first dates are difficult (getting to know someone is never easy), but this one was beyond what anyone should have to go through. When dinner was through, Dirtbag said he left his wallet in her car and asked her for the keys. Some of you can see it coming…he skipped out on the check, stole her car, and left her stranded.
Now don’t get me wrong…things could have gone so much worse. A restaurant bill and a stolen car are not the worst thing that could happen to a girl (I’m pretty sure she thinks she was lucky now that she knows what kind of man he was). I guess what chills me about the story is that I CAN see that happening to my girls.
As I said in one of my previous blogs, you can’t judge someone by how they look. Weirdo’s come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. As a dad, I am terrified that something like that could happen to one of mine.
As a dad, I want so much to protect them, but I realize that at some point, I can no longer watch out for them. My oldest has a boyfriend that could be a car stealer / check skipper. It has already caused a little strain between us. I decided to step aside and let her figure it out. I am sure it will not last anyway. If I do my job right and raise my girls the way my father in law raised my wife, my daughters will do just fine.
The hardest thing in the world to do, is to let someone you love live their life the way they want to live it. We know so much better how they should live it than they do. There are going to be some skipped checks in life, but they have to go through that don't they?.
Who knows if I am right? After all, all this stuff is just my opinion.
By the way, Dirtbag is (to the best of my knowledge) in the Royal Oak Lockup on charges of Grand Theft Auto. Stay away from my girls when you get out!
Friday, August 28, 2009
You are as tired as you think you are
I had a great conversation with my driver Shawn this morning. These drivers have a tough job. They get up at 4:00 am and sometimes work until 6:30pm (kind of a long shift) and although their jobs are not physically strenuous, they require rapt attention. Dealing with customers can also be mentally challenging. Of course they are underpaid. Add it all up and it makes for an exhausting day...if you allow it to be.
Earlier in my career, my wife and I both worked long hours (this was BK). We were up by 5:30, she didn't get home until after 7:00pm and me by after 11:00pm 4 days a week. When Friday rolled around, all we wanted to do was watch TV and fall asleep early for a change. We were absolutely exhausted...we thought.
We were planning an exotic vacation (remember this was BK) and decided we wanted to learn to SCUBA dive. Rec Dive had classes, but the only night we could be sure both of us could make was Friday night from 7-10pm. The first Friday night we got home from work expecting to be dragging. Surprisingly we were not. Filled with anticipation and enthusiasm for this new experience, we were like a couple of 10 year olds who didn't want to get out of the pool...no matter how blue our lips turned.
For 6 weeks we attended class, both in the classroom and the pool, and for 6 weeks we not only went to class we went out after class with some of the other students. Exhaustion....never.
Oddly enough once the classes were over, we went back to the old routine. Friday night TV fall asleep early, man were we exhausted...or were we?
We discovered that exhaustion has more to do with what you need to do than what you have already done! If you have things to do, places to go, people to meet, you have as much energy as you need! That does not mean the body can not become physically "whooped", but in today's power window, electric garage door, remote control TV, electric food processor, society, we really don't expend much physical energy. When people talk about mental exhaustion, it's just that, mental! That means you can also become mentally un-exhausted.
After that experience I realized that when I was "exhausted" it was a choice, not a condition. I am not talking about being sleep deprived, the body does need sleep. Without the right amount a person can wear themselves out. Most of us "exhausted" people though get enough sleep. If you don't, a 20 minute nap does wonders (no more no less).
You are only as tired as you choose to be! While I am at it, you are only as happy, sad, confident, fearful, stressed, calm, angry, loving, (insert your situation here) as you choose to be!
I choose to be a morning person (and an afternoon, evening late-night person). I choose to be filled with enthusiasm. I choose to be in a great mood (most of the time), and when I'm in a bad mood, that's my choice as well.
Choose to be all the positive things, forget about about the impact on those around you, you will feel 1,000 % better
By the way, if you haven't figured out what BK is, it stands for Before Kids, the wonderful time in your life where money is more available, you have extra time on your hands, far less aggravation and stress, and a lot less exhaustion!
Earlier in my career, my wife and I both worked long hours (this was BK). We were up by 5:30, she didn't get home until after 7:00pm and me by after 11:00pm 4 days a week. When Friday rolled around, all we wanted to do was watch TV and fall asleep early for a change. We were absolutely exhausted...we thought.
We were planning an exotic vacation (remember this was BK) and decided we wanted to learn to SCUBA dive. Rec Dive had classes, but the only night we could be sure both of us could make was Friday night from 7-10pm. The first Friday night we got home from work expecting to be dragging. Surprisingly we were not. Filled with anticipation and enthusiasm for this new experience, we were like a couple of 10 year olds who didn't want to get out of the pool...no matter how blue our lips turned.
For 6 weeks we attended class, both in the classroom and the pool, and for 6 weeks we not only went to class we went out after class with some of the other students. Exhaustion....never.
Oddly enough once the classes were over, we went back to the old routine. Friday night TV fall asleep early, man were we exhausted...or were we?
We discovered that exhaustion has more to do with what you need to do than what you have already done! If you have things to do, places to go, people to meet, you have as much energy as you need! That does not mean the body can not become physically "whooped", but in today's power window, electric garage door, remote control TV, electric food processor, society, we really don't expend much physical energy. When people talk about mental exhaustion, it's just that, mental! That means you can also become mentally un-exhausted.
After that experience I realized that when I was "exhausted" it was a choice, not a condition. I am not talking about being sleep deprived, the body does need sleep. Without the right amount a person can wear themselves out. Most of us "exhausted" people though get enough sleep. If you don't, a 20 minute nap does wonders (no more no less).
You are only as tired as you choose to be! While I am at it, you are only as happy, sad, confident, fearful, stressed, calm, angry, loving, (insert your situation here) as you choose to be!
I choose to be a morning person (and an afternoon, evening late-night person). I choose to be filled with enthusiasm. I choose to be in a great mood (most of the time), and when I'm in a bad mood, that's my choice as well.
Choose to be all the positive things, forget about about the impact on those around you, you will feel 1,000 % better
By the way, if you haven't figured out what BK is, it stands for Before Kids, the wonderful time in your life where money is more available, you have extra time on your hands, far less aggravation and stress, and a lot less exhaustion!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The worst thing I did to my body
There was a saying when I was younger. Live fast, die young, and have a good looking corpse. When I first heard that, my reaction was "nope, not for me". When I die, I want people to look at my corpse and say "man, that guy went through hell", "what did he do to make himself look that bad?". I wanted to die old, have a terrible looking corpse, and show the world I did everything I could while I was alive. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.
So far I have accomplished 1/2 of my goal, my corpse will look like hell (those of you who know me know how true that statement is)
Over the years I found great ways to abuse my body. I started the abuse with tobogganing. When I was just a kid my mom got my brother and me a toboggan. Anyone who has ever used one knows the kind of damage you can do on a steep hill. Next came skiing, a brand new way to hurtle my body down a steep snow covered hill with obstacles waiting to slam you to the ground. As I got older I discovered even better ways to abuse my body. Alcohol let me feel the same pain without all that work of getting all dressed up and using all that energy. Anyone who has ever had a serious hangover knows exactly what I am talking about.
Without a doubt, the best way I ever found to abuse my body was tobacco. I was a Newport guy for somewhere around 20 years. I know why I started smoking. When I was a kid, it seemed like everyone was a smoker. My mom smoked, her husband smoked, I was pretty sure my dad smoked (we were not that close when I was a kid). Everyone on TV and in the movies smoked. The high school I went to actually allowed smoking (not inside, but outside the building between classes). The students and teachers would go outside to catch a quick smoke between classes. Smoking was cool, an adult thing to do. It put you in the company of older "cooler" people, and gave you something in common with them. It gave you an easy way to approach girls, "got a light" was smoker talk for "wow you are hot, looking for a boyfriend?" Even though you had to be 18 to buy cigarettes, the school never gave us any problems. Buying them was easy as well. You could not go into a store and buy them, but there were cigarette machines everywhere. Drop in $.50 (Can you believe that? Not $5, 50 cents), pull a lever and out came a pack of smokes and a book of matches too (that was before the greatest invention in the history of smoking, the Bic lighter). When I got to college, it was easier (since I was old enough to buy them). Since smoking was legal for all us college kids, The OC (my college hangout) allowed smoking inside. In fact they had a small non-smoking section way in the back for all the weenies who were not cool enough to smoke!
I never realized the damage I was doing. When you are young and in reasonably good shape, smoking did not make it hard to climb stairs, or make you hack and cough when you woke up. It was only as I got older that the damage became more obvious, and by then, I was severely addicted. I lied to myself by saying I could quit whenever I wanted to, I just did not want to. The truth was tobacco had me by throat (actually somewhere lower, but I am being polite).
The world changed around me. Somewhere between the time I started at 14 and the time I quit at the age of 34, the world discovered that smoking was actually bad for you. It started with a warning on the side of the package. "Warning: cigarette smoking may be hazardous to your health", became "Warning: the Surgeon General has determined that cigarette smoking is dangerous to your health", then a series of warnings about cancer and low birth weight. It was now painfully obvious that smoking was a dumb thing to do.
Everyone around me became a non smoker. My mom quit, my dad quit, one by one all my friends who smoked quit. My wife never smoked (how she tolerated my smell is beyond me). Suddenly there was pressure from all angles to quit. So I did what anyone in my position (hopelessly addicted) would do, I lied about quitting. My car became my smoking refuge. As often as I could, I went for a drive to feed my habit. In between drives, I tried to hide my habit (took a shower when I got home, brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, splashed on cologne). Of course I fooled no one. Smoking was no longer cool. Now if you smoked people looked at you like you were a loser. The non smoking section became the smoking section (way in the back with all the other weenies who were not cool enough to be a non-smoker), and eventually we were even kicked out of all the buildings. I still see the desperately addicted, huddling together outside in the dead of winter braving the cold to feed the beast its nicotine
Two things finally got me to quit. One was when a friend of mine died of alcoholism. I was talking to someone about it, and I said "How can you be dumb enough to let a substance control your life like that" As I put out my smoke, the parallel struck me square between the eyes. I was doing the same thing, just with a different substance. I was no smarter and no better than an alcoholic or a heroin addict. A crack head and a smoker have a lot in common. The only real difference is you can buy smokes anywhere and for a lot cheaper. The image of me as an addict was too much for my ego to suffer, I knew I was better than that. The second thing was when my oldest daughter "caught me". I took her to my office, had her stay in the car while I ran in to get something, and used the chance to light one up. As I was coming out of the office I flipped away the cigarette (when you smoke, the world is one big ashtray), and thought I got away with it. When I got back in the car my 5 year old said "daddy, why do you smoke?" I don't remember my answer, but I do remember thinking "yeah, why do I?". The follow up is what caused me to quit forever. My 5 year old looked at me with tears in her eyes and said "daddy, I don't want you to die".
I wish I could tell you quitting was easy, it wasn't. It is fifteen years later, and once in a while when the alarm goes off, I will reach for a smoke and realize I will never smoke again.
My oldest claims she has tried cigarettes, but there are too many signs to ignore. She does not smoke often, but that will change if she does not end it now. No one can be a part time smoker. It is only a matter of time. I know from personal experience, once it has you, it is like a Boa Constrictor. It wraps its coils around you and keeps squeezing you harder and harder (an apt analogy since they both take your breath away).
I think I will remind her that smoking gave me tongue cancer (part of my bad looking corpse, I am missing the right side of my tongue courtesy of a mildly invasive squamous cell carcinoma). I will take her to a bar named Roosevelt's (a smokers paradise). I will have lunch there with her, then take her outside and have her smell her clothes and my hair. When you smoke, you carry the "cloud" of stench with you. Since she likes money as much as her dad does, I will show her that over their lifetime, a smoker will spend an amount that if invested would become a Million Dollars (no Joke, A MILLION DOLLARS.) $5/pack x 7 packs per week x 52 weeks per year x 30 years + a reasonable rate of return, do the math. And smoking will not get cheaper, it is the favorite tax target of every State and the Federal Government. Funny, they are like drug dealers, taking advantage of the addicted to raise money. I will try to explain the terrible price you pay by smoking (she already knows this, but a reminder never hurts). Somehow I must inspire her the way she once inspired me.
The price of smoking is way too high. I can't let her take as long as I did to learn. I love her too much to idly stand by and watch her slowly kill herself. You probably have people in you life that need to quit. Remind them with love. Nagging doesn't work, criticizing doesnt work, punishment doesn't work, education doesn't work, at least all those tactics failed to change me. In the movie "Natural Born Killers" there is a line that says "love kills the beast". It killed mine, now I must see if my love can kill it again.
Remind the people around you who smoke, how much you love them, and how hard it is to watch someone you love slowly kill themselves. Let's all hope that love kills the beast
So far I have accomplished 1/2 of my goal, my corpse will look like hell (those of you who know me know how true that statement is)
Over the years I found great ways to abuse my body. I started the abuse with tobogganing. When I was just a kid my mom got my brother and me a toboggan. Anyone who has ever used one knows the kind of damage you can do on a steep hill. Next came skiing, a brand new way to hurtle my body down a steep snow covered hill with obstacles waiting to slam you to the ground. As I got older I discovered even better ways to abuse my body. Alcohol let me feel the same pain without all that work of getting all dressed up and using all that energy. Anyone who has ever had a serious hangover knows exactly what I am talking about.
Without a doubt, the best way I ever found to abuse my body was tobacco. I was a Newport guy for somewhere around 20 years. I know why I started smoking. When I was a kid, it seemed like everyone was a smoker. My mom smoked, her husband smoked, I was pretty sure my dad smoked (we were not that close when I was a kid). Everyone on TV and in the movies smoked. The high school I went to actually allowed smoking (not inside, but outside the building between classes). The students and teachers would go outside to catch a quick smoke between classes. Smoking was cool, an adult thing to do. It put you in the company of older "cooler" people, and gave you something in common with them. It gave you an easy way to approach girls, "got a light" was smoker talk for "wow you are hot, looking for a boyfriend?" Even though you had to be 18 to buy cigarettes, the school never gave us any problems. Buying them was easy as well. You could not go into a store and buy them, but there were cigarette machines everywhere. Drop in $.50 (Can you believe that? Not $5, 50 cents), pull a lever and out came a pack of smokes and a book of matches too (that was before the greatest invention in the history of smoking, the Bic lighter). When I got to college, it was easier (since I was old enough to buy them). Since smoking was legal for all us college kids, The OC (my college hangout) allowed smoking inside. In fact they had a small non-smoking section way in the back for all the weenies who were not cool enough to smoke!
I never realized the damage I was doing. When you are young and in reasonably good shape, smoking did not make it hard to climb stairs, or make you hack and cough when you woke up. It was only as I got older that the damage became more obvious, and by then, I was severely addicted. I lied to myself by saying I could quit whenever I wanted to, I just did not want to. The truth was tobacco had me by throat (actually somewhere lower, but I am being polite).
The world changed around me. Somewhere between the time I started at 14 and the time I quit at the age of 34, the world discovered that smoking was actually bad for you. It started with a warning on the side of the package. "Warning: cigarette smoking may be hazardous to your health", became "Warning: the Surgeon General has determined that cigarette smoking is dangerous to your health", then a series of warnings about cancer and low birth weight. It was now painfully obvious that smoking was a dumb thing to do.
Everyone around me became a non smoker. My mom quit, my dad quit, one by one all my friends who smoked quit. My wife never smoked (how she tolerated my smell is beyond me). Suddenly there was pressure from all angles to quit. So I did what anyone in my position (hopelessly addicted) would do, I lied about quitting. My car became my smoking refuge. As often as I could, I went for a drive to feed my habit. In between drives, I tried to hide my habit (took a shower when I got home, brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, splashed on cologne). Of course I fooled no one. Smoking was no longer cool. Now if you smoked people looked at you like you were a loser. The non smoking section became the smoking section (way in the back with all the other weenies who were not cool enough to be a non-smoker), and eventually we were even kicked out of all the buildings. I still see the desperately addicted, huddling together outside in the dead of winter braving the cold to feed the beast its nicotine
Two things finally got me to quit. One was when a friend of mine died of alcoholism. I was talking to someone about it, and I said "How can you be dumb enough to let a substance control your life like that" As I put out my smoke, the parallel struck me square between the eyes. I was doing the same thing, just with a different substance. I was no smarter and no better than an alcoholic or a heroin addict. A crack head and a smoker have a lot in common. The only real difference is you can buy smokes anywhere and for a lot cheaper. The image of me as an addict was too much for my ego to suffer, I knew I was better than that. The second thing was when my oldest daughter "caught me". I took her to my office, had her stay in the car while I ran in to get something, and used the chance to light one up. As I was coming out of the office I flipped away the cigarette (when you smoke, the world is one big ashtray), and thought I got away with it. When I got back in the car my 5 year old said "daddy, why do you smoke?" I don't remember my answer, but I do remember thinking "yeah, why do I?". The follow up is what caused me to quit forever. My 5 year old looked at me with tears in her eyes and said "daddy, I don't want you to die".
I wish I could tell you quitting was easy, it wasn't. It is fifteen years later, and once in a while when the alarm goes off, I will reach for a smoke and realize I will never smoke again.
My oldest claims she has tried cigarettes, but there are too many signs to ignore. She does not smoke often, but that will change if she does not end it now. No one can be a part time smoker. It is only a matter of time. I know from personal experience, once it has you, it is like a Boa Constrictor. It wraps its coils around you and keeps squeezing you harder and harder (an apt analogy since they both take your breath away).
I think I will remind her that smoking gave me tongue cancer (part of my bad looking corpse, I am missing the right side of my tongue courtesy of a mildly invasive squamous cell carcinoma). I will take her to a bar named Roosevelt's (a smokers paradise). I will have lunch there with her, then take her outside and have her smell her clothes and my hair. When you smoke, you carry the "cloud" of stench with you. Since she likes money as much as her dad does, I will show her that over their lifetime, a smoker will spend an amount that if invested would become a Million Dollars (no Joke, A MILLION DOLLARS.) $5/pack x 7 packs per week x 52 weeks per year x 30 years + a reasonable rate of return, do the math. And smoking will not get cheaper, it is the favorite tax target of every State and the Federal Government. Funny, they are like drug dealers, taking advantage of the addicted to raise money. I will try to explain the terrible price you pay by smoking (she already knows this, but a reminder never hurts). Somehow I must inspire her the way she once inspired me.
The price of smoking is way too high. I can't let her take as long as I did to learn. I love her too much to idly stand by and watch her slowly kill herself. You probably have people in you life that need to quit. Remind them with love. Nagging doesn't work, criticizing doesnt work, punishment doesn't work, education doesn't work, at least all those tactics failed to change me. In the movie "Natural Born Killers" there is a line that says "love kills the beast". It killed mine, now I must see if my love can kill it again.
Remind the people around you who smoke, how much you love them, and how hard it is to watch someone you love slowly kill themselves. Let's all hope that love kills the beast
Monday, August 24, 2009
TMI dad TMI
I wrote a blog today about one of the big three Taboo Subjects (politics, religion, and sex)
It is a blog you will never see unless I write a book someday. Too bad really, it was funny, and insightful, with just the right amount of humor and balanced with a serious look at how religious fanatics are destroying our great country. Or it was a narcissistic piece of crap lacking in any artistic or literary integrity, I really can't decide. But then, neither can you, HAH!
I decided not to publish it because I thought it was a bit too personal. Not for me, there are very few things I am uncomfortable talking about (to the great dismay of my wife), but the subject of my religious views should remain just that, my religious views. My wife shouldn't have to defend my views if someone we know should happen to read this (not much chance of that judging by my HUGE lack of an audience). Not that she would try to defend my views anyway, she stopped apologizing for my behavior years ago. The point is, she shouldn't have to.
That seems to be the forgotten part of the equation today. The effect our new found freedom of expression has on the people around us. I chose not to publish my religion blog, not because of the effect on me, but because of the possible effect on those around me, if someone they know should somehow come across my writings. Here's a SHOCKER, some of my opinions could be offensive to those who don't share my views on politics or religion.
It seems like nowadays all three taboo subjects are splashed across the small screen in ever increasing doses. We have become a society of voyeurs with nothing too personal or controversial to explore 24 hours a day on the Real channel, Jerry Springer, Fox, or on Judge Joe. People reveal the most intimate things for the world to see. If that isn't bad enough, people with a never ending supply of narcissism splash photo's of themselves across Facebook and embarrassing and sometimes compromising videos of themselves on YouTube, just to see how many clicks they get or how many times their video was viewed. The sad thing is, they do it without a thought as to how it might effect the ones around you, or how it might effect your future. I tried to put my self in Richard Hilton's place. I wondered how I would feel if everywhere I went people shook my hand and thought " I saw your daughter's Porno". I still can't get rid of the lump in my throat as I thought about my daughter making the same mistake. Now imagine the abuse her kids will face as the other kids play clips of their mom "doin' the nasty" on their cellphones. She will need every penny of the Hilton Fortune to pay for therapy for those kids (and you know she will have them). Nowadays cameras and Video cameras are everywhere, and it seems to have desensitized us to embarrassing or offensive behaviors.
In the "good ol days" if a sex video of you surfaced, you were humiliated to the point of plastic surgery and a new identity. Now you get a reality show where you explore the size of your ass in the porno. In the old days kids caught stealing a car pulled their jackets over their heads to hide their identity, now they drive around in dangerous car chases until a news crew gets there to film the bust! The kids look directly into the camera and give a shout out to their friends (their parents must be so proud). It is entertaining as hell (just look at the ratings), but is it making our society better? I would have to vote no.
We have swung a bit to far to the "say and do anything we want" side. It is time to get closer to the "keep my opinions and embarrassing behaviors to my self" side
For my part I am going to be more careful about what I write and who I might offend, and I will try to influence those around me to do the same.
It is a blog you will never see unless I write a book someday. Too bad really, it was funny, and insightful, with just the right amount of humor and balanced with a serious look at how religious fanatics are destroying our great country. Or it was a narcissistic piece of crap lacking in any artistic or literary integrity, I really can't decide. But then, neither can you, HAH!
I decided not to publish it because I thought it was a bit too personal. Not for me, there are very few things I am uncomfortable talking about (to the great dismay of my wife), but the subject of my religious views should remain just that, my religious views. My wife shouldn't have to defend my views if someone we know should happen to read this (not much chance of that judging by my HUGE lack of an audience). Not that she would try to defend my views anyway, she stopped apologizing for my behavior years ago. The point is, she shouldn't have to.
That seems to be the forgotten part of the equation today. The effect our new found freedom of expression has on the people around us. I chose not to publish my religion blog, not because of the effect on me, but because of the possible effect on those around me, if someone they know should somehow come across my writings. Here's a SHOCKER, some of my opinions could be offensive to those who don't share my views on politics or religion.
It seems like nowadays all three taboo subjects are splashed across the small screen in ever increasing doses. We have become a society of voyeurs with nothing too personal or controversial to explore 24 hours a day on the Real channel, Jerry Springer, Fox, or on Judge Joe. People reveal the most intimate things for the world to see. If that isn't bad enough, people with a never ending supply of narcissism splash photo's of themselves across Facebook and embarrassing and sometimes compromising videos of themselves on YouTube, just to see how many clicks they get or how many times their video was viewed. The sad thing is, they do it without a thought as to how it might effect the ones around you, or how it might effect your future. I tried to put my self in Richard Hilton's place. I wondered how I would feel if everywhere I went people shook my hand and thought " I saw your daughter's Porno". I still can't get rid of the lump in my throat as I thought about my daughter making the same mistake. Now imagine the abuse her kids will face as the other kids play clips of their mom "doin' the nasty" on their cellphones. She will need every penny of the Hilton Fortune to pay for therapy for those kids (and you know she will have them). Nowadays cameras and Video cameras are everywhere, and it seems to have desensitized us to embarrassing or offensive behaviors.
In the "good ol days" if a sex video of you surfaced, you were humiliated to the point of plastic surgery and a new identity. Now you get a reality show where you explore the size of your ass in the porno. In the old days kids caught stealing a car pulled their jackets over their heads to hide their identity, now they drive around in dangerous car chases until a news crew gets there to film the bust! The kids look directly into the camera and give a shout out to their friends (their parents must be so proud). It is entertaining as hell (just look at the ratings), but is it making our society better? I would have to vote no.
We have swung a bit to far to the "say and do anything we want" side. It is time to get closer to the "keep my opinions and embarrassing behaviors to my self" side
For my part I am going to be more careful about what I write and who I might offend, and I will try to influence those around me to do the same.
What did my wife do?
Today I am mad at my mom. As she reads this (I'm pretty sure she reads it, but she hasn't listed herself as a follower), her first reaction will be "what the heck did I do"
My mom did to me what parents have been doing to their kids since the dawn of time. She cursed me. That's all I have to say, and anyone with kids knows EXACTLY what she did, and why I am so mad today.
Anyone without kids, but who has watched the Bill Cosby special "Himself" isn't laughing quite as hard as my mom is, but they think they know why I am angry. If you haven't guessed it yet, you are childless, and you were the kid that never gave mom and dad any trouble. I'm not sure how old I was when she first cursed me. I know I deserved it because I remember all the crummy things I said and did to my mom once I passed the age of 8 (I'm sure my mom remembers them, and probably a few I didn't think were so bad).
My mom stared me right in the eyes and said (everyone) "Someday you will have kids, and they will do the same things to you that you have done to me!".
Most of us have heard that line (except for my wife who was the kid that never gave her parents any trouble). When I told her about the curse, she looked at me and said "yeah, but what did I do/"
I still can't figure out where we went wrong. I didn't do all the things I was certain my mom screwed up on raising me. I praised them far more than I criticized them. I only spanked them 1x each. I tried to give them everything I didn't get when I was growing up. And yet, they are in many ways, just as bad to me as I was to my mom. OK I lied, they could not possibly have been as bad to me as I was to my mom, but it doesn't hurt me any less than I'm sure it hurt her. So much for the argument of Heredity vs. Environment. (I heard B.F Skinner was devastated when his kids kids turned out different than he thought they would) Chalk one up to the ol' gene pool
With a few exceptions my kids have done the same things that I did (the exception being they were never brought home by the police. Operating a motorcycle without a license, fleeing from the police on said same motorcycle, getting away by by doing my best Steve McQueen (Evel Knievel for the younger crowd, Jeff Ward for the really young crowd, if you have to ask, you are too old) over a chain link fence, and being turned in by the only honest kid at the playground. So far my kids have been free of any legal troubles (he said looking to the heavens and crossing himself). They have been mouthy, defiant, and disrespectful (on a bad day, not always) of my wife and myself (wife and me?). They have "hidden treasures" in the rooms (blouses, shoes, and dresses not conservative enough for our tastes, not to mention dishes and food that became science projects). Parking tickets that were not paid on time and fines that quintupled because of it. Leaving the lights and TV on and a bunch of dirty dishes in the family room (not to worry we have 2 people to clean up after them....yeah its us)
I won't bore you with all my complaints, let's just say I look at my kids with equal parts pride and pain.
The curse must be stopped. It is too painful, and with rare exceptions, no parent deserves it (I can think of one or two who do) So far I have not wished the curse on my kids, (not out loud anyway, and as we all know thinking about it doesn't count). I pray that if they have kids, the curse will end with me (but there goes that little genetic thingy). I pray that their kids will never break their heart, or hurt their feelings, or make them question why their kids would treat them that way. I hope my grandkids will be everything that I was not growing up.
Most of all all I hope the curse has done its worst to me, and that my mom forgives me for all the heartache I caused her (She has to right? After all she is my mom!)
As always, just my opinion...anyone out there share it?
My mom did to me what parents have been doing to their kids since the dawn of time. She cursed me. That's all I have to say, and anyone with kids knows EXACTLY what she did, and why I am so mad today.
Anyone without kids, but who has watched the Bill Cosby special "Himself" isn't laughing quite as hard as my mom is, but they think they know why I am angry. If you haven't guessed it yet, you are childless, and you were the kid that never gave mom and dad any trouble. I'm not sure how old I was when she first cursed me. I know I deserved it because I remember all the crummy things I said and did to my mom once I passed the age of 8 (I'm sure my mom remembers them, and probably a few I didn't think were so bad).
My mom stared me right in the eyes and said (everyone) "Someday you will have kids, and they will do the same things to you that you have done to me!".
Most of us have heard that line (except for my wife who was the kid that never gave her parents any trouble). When I told her about the curse, she looked at me and said "yeah, but what did I do/"
I still can't figure out where we went wrong. I didn't do all the things I was certain my mom screwed up on raising me. I praised them far more than I criticized them. I only spanked them 1x each. I tried to give them everything I didn't get when I was growing up. And yet, they are in many ways, just as bad to me as I was to my mom. OK I lied, they could not possibly have been as bad to me as I was to my mom, but it doesn't hurt me any less than I'm sure it hurt her. So much for the argument of Heredity vs. Environment. (I heard B.F Skinner was devastated when his kids kids turned out different than he thought they would) Chalk one up to the ol' gene pool
With a few exceptions my kids have done the same things that I did (the exception being they were never brought home by the police. Operating a motorcycle without a license, fleeing from the police on said same motorcycle, getting away by by doing my best Steve McQueen (Evel Knievel for the younger crowd, Jeff Ward for the really young crowd, if you have to ask, you are too old) over a chain link fence, and being turned in by the only honest kid at the playground. So far my kids have been free of any legal troubles (he said looking to the heavens and crossing himself). They have been mouthy, defiant, and disrespectful (on a bad day, not always) of my wife and myself (wife and me?). They have "hidden treasures" in the rooms (blouses, shoes, and dresses not conservative enough for our tastes, not to mention dishes and food that became science projects). Parking tickets that were not paid on time and fines that quintupled because of it. Leaving the lights and TV on and a bunch of dirty dishes in the family room (not to worry we have 2 people to clean up after them....yeah its us)
I won't bore you with all my complaints, let's just say I look at my kids with equal parts pride and pain.
The curse must be stopped. It is too painful, and with rare exceptions, no parent deserves it (I can think of one or two who do) So far I have not wished the curse on my kids, (not out loud anyway, and as we all know thinking about it doesn't count). I pray that if they have kids, the curse will end with me (but there goes that little genetic thingy). I pray that their kids will never break their heart, or hurt their feelings, or make them question why their kids would treat them that way. I hope my grandkids will be everything that I was not growing up.
Most of all all I hope the curse has done its worst to me, and that my mom forgives me for all the heartache I caused her (She has to right? After all she is my mom!)
As always, just my opinion...anyone out there share it?
Friday, August 21, 2009
Don't judge a book by the clothes it wears.
Ok so the quotes a little off. All my life I have been judged by looks. I was lucky enough to find something I loved to do (and was good at) at a very young age. I graduated from a University when I was just shy of 21. I can't claim any special intelligence, it was just based on hard work, going to school all year round, taking overload classes (usually 20+ credit hours), and a little luck with my scheduling. As a result, I was younger than most when I graduated from college.
Looking young is both a treasure and a curse. In the beginning, no one takes you seriously (think Doogie Howser without the heavy facial hair). Past the age of 35 it is a real blessing (think Dick Clark under 200). The biggest challenge was being taken seriously. After a few years in the business I volunteered to help new people on sales calls. It never failed, we would go on sales calls and the customers always thought I was the one being trained. They would direct all the questions to the "senior" rep, who would usually turn to me for the answers. I did not mind (I always thought it was funny, especially when the customer finally realized I was the trainer, not the trainee). Another sure thing was them saying "do you mind if I ask you your age?" I learned a great line from my dad, I would lean in and say "can you keep a secret". They always said yes, to which i would reply "so can I". If they pressed the issue, I would say, "well I graduated from college 4 years ago, you can do the math". It gave me an extra year or two in most minds.
When I got married a lot of the questions stopped. Something about a wedding ring changes how old you look (that or being married ages you quickly). People still judged me by my looks but in different situations. My wife and I decided to buy a boat (OK I decided and she went along, I told you she was perfect!). I went to the boat dealer on the weekend (No sense costing myself money when I was going to spend a chunk of it) Because it was the weekend I was dressed casually (jeans and a polo). I wandered around the showroom waiting for a sales person to approach me. You guessed it, they all went after the older people (the serious buyers). I finally got tired of waiting and approached a guy doing paperwork at a desk. I asked if we could talk about the boat I knew I was going to buy. He looked me up and down, looked back at his paperwork and said "I'll be with you in a minute". The younger me did not like being underestimated, so I went to another salesman just standing around and loudly said "you and I are going to argue about the price, but I'm leaving today with that boat" pointing at the one I wanted. He was only too happy to help me. Of course the first rep jumped to his feet and said " hey I was going to help you". "Too late" I replied.
Another time I went to the Gucci store in Somerset Mall (again in my jeans and a polo...maybe that was the problem) and saw a purse I knew was perfect for my mom. I approached a sales person and said "can I see that purse on the top row". She looked me over and haughtily said "it's very expensive". You know of course what I did..I bought the purse from another person (and if there is a God they worked on commission). There were many other examples, and I'm certain i am not the only person who has been underestimated by others.
History is chock full of people who were underestimated. Albert Einstein, as everyone knows, worked as a patent clerk because he could not get a teaching post. Napoleon was underestimated because of his stature. Michael Jordan was cut from the High School varsity team as a sophomore. No one gave Barack Obama a chance against the Clinton machine. Mahatma Gandhi expected the British to walk out of India (I would love to have taken the odds on that action....100 million to 1 maybe?). No one gave Spud Webb a shot at the slam dunk title. I guess those of us who have been underestimated are in great company.
At 48 I am no longer underestimated due to my age, people frequently ask if my wife is my daughter (not the age, its the mileage). Now I am underestimated for a much different reason. I am wheelchair bound. I was in my wheelchair, and a puddle did something to the motor. The wheelchair was barely moving. I needed someone to help me out by pushing the reset button in the back (out of my reach). I approached a guy in a nearby gas station. I said "hey buddy, can you help with something?" His response was "sorry, I don't have any change!" My brain was working quickly that day so I shot back "Too bad", "I can give you a few bucks if you will push the reset button on my wheelchair for me." He blushed a bit and apologized for thinking I was a bum (ooops there goes my political incorrectness again, I mean a panhandler....Naaahhh a bum)
Don't judge a book by it's cover. Don't judge a person by their age or stature, their formal education or lack of it, and a hundred other things that cause us to make snap judgments.
Once again, just my opinion, one shared by Einstein, Napoleon, Obama, Gandhi, Jordan, and the hundreds of thousands of us who were or are underestimated.
Looking young is both a treasure and a curse. In the beginning, no one takes you seriously (think Doogie Howser without the heavy facial hair). Past the age of 35 it is a real blessing (think Dick Clark under 200). The biggest challenge was being taken seriously. After a few years in the business I volunteered to help new people on sales calls. It never failed, we would go on sales calls and the customers always thought I was the one being trained. They would direct all the questions to the "senior" rep, who would usually turn to me for the answers. I did not mind (I always thought it was funny, especially when the customer finally realized I was the trainer, not the trainee). Another sure thing was them saying "do you mind if I ask you your age?" I learned a great line from my dad, I would lean in and say "can you keep a secret". They always said yes, to which i would reply "so can I". If they pressed the issue, I would say, "well I graduated from college 4 years ago, you can do the math". It gave me an extra year or two in most minds.
When I got married a lot of the questions stopped. Something about a wedding ring changes how old you look (that or being married ages you quickly). People still judged me by my looks but in different situations. My wife and I decided to buy a boat (OK I decided and she went along, I told you she was perfect!). I went to the boat dealer on the weekend (No sense costing myself money when I was going to spend a chunk of it) Because it was the weekend I was dressed casually (jeans and a polo). I wandered around the showroom waiting for a sales person to approach me. You guessed it, they all went after the older people (the serious buyers). I finally got tired of waiting and approached a guy doing paperwork at a desk. I asked if we could talk about the boat I knew I was going to buy. He looked me up and down, looked back at his paperwork and said "I'll be with you in a minute". The younger me did not like being underestimated, so I went to another salesman just standing around and loudly said "you and I are going to argue about the price, but I'm leaving today with that boat" pointing at the one I wanted. He was only too happy to help me. Of course the first rep jumped to his feet and said " hey I was going to help you". "Too late" I replied.
Another time I went to the Gucci store in Somerset Mall (again in my jeans and a polo...maybe that was the problem) and saw a purse I knew was perfect for my mom. I approached a sales person and said "can I see that purse on the top row". She looked me over and haughtily said "it's very expensive". You know of course what I did..I bought the purse from another person (and if there is a God they worked on commission). There were many other examples, and I'm certain i am not the only person who has been underestimated by others.
History is chock full of people who were underestimated. Albert Einstein, as everyone knows, worked as a patent clerk because he could not get a teaching post. Napoleon was underestimated because of his stature. Michael Jordan was cut from the High School varsity team as a sophomore. No one gave Barack Obama a chance against the Clinton machine. Mahatma Gandhi expected the British to walk out of India (I would love to have taken the odds on that action....100 million to 1 maybe?). No one gave Spud Webb a shot at the slam dunk title. I guess those of us who have been underestimated are in great company.
At 48 I am no longer underestimated due to my age, people frequently ask if my wife is my daughter (not the age, its the mileage). Now I am underestimated for a much different reason. I am wheelchair bound. I was in my wheelchair, and a puddle did something to the motor. The wheelchair was barely moving. I needed someone to help me out by pushing the reset button in the back (out of my reach). I approached a guy in a nearby gas station. I said "hey buddy, can you help with something?" His response was "sorry, I don't have any change!" My brain was working quickly that day so I shot back "Too bad", "I can give you a few bucks if you will push the reset button on my wheelchair for me." He blushed a bit and apologized for thinking I was a bum (ooops there goes my political incorrectness again, I mean a panhandler....Naaahhh a bum)
Don't judge a book by it's cover. Don't judge a person by their age or stature, their formal education or lack of it, and a hundred other things that cause us to make snap judgments.
Once again, just my opinion, one shared by Einstein, Napoleon, Obama, Gandhi, Jordan, and the hundreds of thousands of us who were or are underestimated.
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