dornbushthoughts

Wake Me Up When September Ends

2009-09-28T19:13:00.000-07:00

For teachers this has a certain ring to it. I can't believe that we are already into the 5th week of school (at least where I'm at). It is both amazing and depressing. Amazing that we have hit 5 weeks so fast, depressing because the Veteran's day holiday is still 5 weeks away. It is simply one of those things that comes with each school year.

I didn't know just how much different this school year would be from those in the past. I knew that if I ever returned to the classroom that I would ditch 99% of the things I had done in the past. I relied too much on my personality and not enough on simply planning and executing good lessons. When I came back to the classroom it was like I unlearned years of bad habits, but I had all types of experience to go with it. I haven't had that day where I just wanted to mail it in. I have been able to shift and change on the fly, but I have not had to. Quite simply, I'm better at what I do.

I spend more time on what I do know to make my classroom a better place. In some cases that has meant innovation (I have a blog for my students), in some cases that has meant going back to basics (the textbook isn't such a bad thing), and in some cases it has simply meant doing the job of getting the kids through the curriculum. By this time of the year I am usually out of gas and ready for June. This is year different. This year it all seems about right. Can't put a finger on it, just seems like it is different.

I was actually very disappointed in myself today. I had a major technology breakdown at school and ended up wasting 20+ minutes of my kids time. It really was something I couldn't stand. I must of apologized ten times. I through my hands up and moved on. I know in the past I would have tossed in the towel and never done anything to make it even close to a real lesson. Today I knew there was something in reserve, I knew it was there for me just in case. I get to do the other teaching as we move through the rest of the unit. Today's gaff didn't scuttle the ship, it was just a case of operator error.

This year has really been the first year where I know that my focus has been totally on what I do in the classroom, the things I do with my kids and not what the total school may be going through. It is a great change. It is something that I do not know if I knew about it before. Teaching is a tough job, incredibly rewarding but very demanding when it is done correctly. I've always known that but don't know if I always showed that.

I've got two days of September to go. 1/10 of the way to another summer off. 9/10 of a year to keep getting better at something that I knew I needed to come back to.

Gift Giving

2009-09-20T16:56:00.000-07:00

We have a friend who is getting married soon. She has told her husband many times exactly what she would like as a wedding gift (they are exchanging gifts) and yet she continues to have trouble getting through to him. He has insisted on giving her things that are very practical, things she can use, as opposed to what she has asked for. I learned a long time ago that a gift is something wanted, not needed, and that in many cases the best gifts come with no date attached.

When my wife went to the wedding shower recently she brought a gift that was not on the registry. She got something uncommon, something that would help them remember the day, something that was a gift. We are doing the same with the wedding as well, something that you know that the person wants but does not need.

Now not all gift giving goes this way. Sometimes you give people what they need because they need it to survive. When I donate to Goodwill or another charity, I think of the fact that someone will be able to get something they need as well as the fact that the charity is able to benefit by helping those within its mission. I'm working on a project at my school to open up a closet for our kids for job interviews and dances. Something that will allow them the chance to dress for success with pride and dignity and not have the any strings attached.

My wife is having a "significant" birthday soon. She has told me what she wants and I am probably going to follow through on it. At least I think I am. I mean what if I don't. I know she will not get something she needs, she needs nothing, we make sure that we take care of everyone in the family to the best of our ability. I just wonder if it was something that I had to take care of on my own, something that she just said, "go and get me something, surprise me," just what would I surprise her with? I do have to write in code, she reads this.

I think that gift giving has become a bit of a lost art. Most people will make it part of their grocery shopping, stopping and picking up a gift card to merchant X, because they can't figure out what would be a good gift for that person. I'd rather have the cash. That is what the kids do now for many of the birthday gifts. Cold hard cash. Figure out what to do with it. Makes the kids have to think about how they will handle it. Watch the Seinfeld where they give Elaine cash instead of presents and you'll get a much better understanding of why gift giving matters.

My family, the wife and kids, are hard to shop for. We simply do not need much. We are getting to the point where we want big ticket items because the smaller ones don't seem to fit the bill anymore. I can't imagine shopping for me, I'm a huge pain. I do not want anything other than the happiness of the people around me. My wife got me a membership to the local public radio station this year. It was great, it cleared my guilt, it made me feel the contribution. But what about her? What about the kids? I'm hoping that we have reached the apex of our consumerism for awhile. I'm hoping that the thing that everyone wants is a trip somewhere, an experience somewhere, a long term investment, saving for a first car, or college.

So when October 11th rolls around I'll try to remember to let you know how it all goes. We will see if she got what she wanted or if she got something else. I know for sure that she will not get anything that she needs.

Good Days Indeed

2009-09-16T19:33:00.000-07:00

I have absolutely enjoyed my time at work to begin this school year. I can't believe I'm saying that. I can't think of many years where I would have said that in the recent past. I'm sure that there have been times at school that I have enjoyed more than others, but the sheer fact is that I have enjoyed the time I have been at work so far this school year.

Don't get me wrong, I would have loved to have not gone to work at all. I miss my time reading and working on the house, its just the mere fact that I have not come home in a snit, or gone to work in a snit, that has made this an exceptional start to the year. I guess this is the true meaning of the grass is always greener on the other side scenario.

I have an anxiety problem. I don't think I've said that here before. It has always been a part of my life, and it has manifested itself in various ways over the years. I have always worried about "things" (in fact it was about everything), and this last year, when I changed jobs, it all came to a head. When I was in my last month as an Assistant Principal, I knew that there was something way worse than just being involved with my work. I was consumed by the thought of failure, the throes of depression and the physical fallout was taking its toll. I was sick to my stomach, exhausted and tense from my shoulders to my rear end.

I was lucky that I knew what was causing the pain. I was lucky that I had the chance to leave. I was lucky that I was able to go to the doctor and get treatment. I am medicated, everyday, in order to deal with the anxiety that I face. I can't imagine what would happen if I was not. I can't imagine a time in my life when I felt this good. It isn't a dull wiped over feeling it is one where I can see and think rationally about the situation and not let it consume me. It allowed me to start this blog, it allowed me to try new things, it allowed me to become a better person.

I knew when I went back to the classroom that I would have some things to change. I'm not as palsy with students anymore. I demand a lot from them (I work with some of the lowest level kids on our campus), and I am willing to experiment and try new things with how I deliver content. I'm not afraid to speak my mind and I'm not afraid to go off and do my own thing. Those things were always concerns but they aren't now. I cannot explain how good that feels.

I did something today that I do not normally do, I told a couple of administrators to come and check out what the kids were doing in class. They always ask but no one ever takes them up on it. It dawned on me that they would probably like the chance to see something that might really help them and their day. I would have never done that in the past. When I say past I mean January. I've been able to experience life the way I imagine others do for most of theirs. I've always been relaxed (at least that was the facade) but now I truly know the meaning of a life where the real things to worry about don't overwhelm you and where the things you worry about don't bring you to a screeching halt.

I am hoping to take this wave and ride it into shore.

Time Shifting

2009-09-13T19:38:00.001-07:00

School has been underway for two weeks and I can already feel the difference in what I get done for me. The summer is all about the individual, at least when it comes to teachers and time off, the school year is almost always about service, to students, your kids (if they are students), and as much as you can to yourself.

I've tried to incorporate my blog into my classroom. I'm having my students comment on some of the writing that I do, and will be expanding it into something that they will see as a regular discussion board. It also gives me the opportunity to get some me time. I value what I do on the computer, I like to get in as quickly as I can, get the task done and move on to the fun that I can have with it. I'm hoping that this will bring a new sense to my mission as a teacher as well.

I have been able to keep up on my other wants so far. I was at the Heart Walk this morning out at the old El Toro airbase. It was good to see so many out for a cause that is near and dear to me. My mother-in-law has had a heart attack, my grandmother had multiple strokes and my grandfather died of a massive heart attack. Even though the event was a mess as far as traffic (worse than any sporting event I've ever been to), it was still great to see a thousands get out there and walk to support the cause. It also brings the volunteer T-Shirt total up to 3 (however it is 5 if I count the blood donation shirt and the second, but different, shirt from Light the Night). Service over self I always say.

I also have not seen my family as much. During the summer we saw each other every day, three squares together. Very rarely did we not spend the day together. With school in swing it takes that big chunk of the day out of the equation and we have to value our time together in another manner. I don't like the scenario very much. If I am supposed to raise my kids shouldn't I be given the time to do it? We simply make every moment count, making sure to try to slow down and stop and do the simple things together.

I've noticed that I am not the only one who is going through this shift. On Facebook, my friends who are teachers are in the same boat. We aren't posting our farms, we aren't commenting on quizzes, we are almost a lost tribe. We are part of the grind all over again. I noticed it today when we were out in the stores with all the others that are in the stores at this time. It is the time every one goes but I am not used to seeing this many people when I'm out and about.

The good news is I've learned a lot about how to handle my time as a working stiff. There are ways for me to make sure that I can eke out every second during the working day just so I can gain minutes at home with the family and for me. So If you notice that I'm not on here every day there is a reason. Sometimes I'm just so done at the end of the day that I don't have the time or energy to take the 15 minutes to sit down and do this. When I think about that though it makes me realize that these 15 minutes are important for me. I 'll be there for those 15 minutes, those 15 minutes make things better.

So as we shift toward autumn (at least I hope so for the weather) I'll make sure that as my time shifts I can't let it shift my values.

Time Drain?

2009-09-08T16:20:00.000-07:00

I went to my first training for the school year. It was horrible, but not a waste of my time. The good news is that I know how to make better use out of my time when I'm placed in situations like these. I simply start working on the curriculum in front of me (in this case English 1 Intensive--I think it will be a great course) and when that runs out of steam I start drawing my house and the plans I have for it. Today I started on the outlets (I want to go from tan to white and add GFCI 4-plexes in the bathrooms) and mapped the entire house by outlets and switches.

I was able to get something out of the training because I saw the need to get better at what I do. I noticed some of the finer details of the course, refined some of the details that always bug me about the course, and was able to sit back and listen to others complaints knowing that they were not mine. It was not a waste of time because I sat myself down and did these tasks as opposed to sitting there waiting for the big revelation to happen.

I was able to figure out what I need to do with my electrical issues in the house, swapping out the outlets and switches to aluminum rated fixtures (white of course) and only having to pigtail the 2 GFCI's in the bathrooms. I also need to get one of those thingies that helps you map out which outlet is on which circuit breaker so I can get a better idea of where the power is actually going to and coming from so I don't blow a circuit or overflow the entire board.

Did I know that I would get either of these particular things mapped out today? Nope. I thought I would get trained on delivering curriculum (although it isn't particularly difficult to read and follow directions--it is the execution of the directions that will be most telling) but when that did not occur (and I knew it wouldn't in the first 15 minutes of the presentation) it was easy for me to switch gears and do my own things without disturbing the presenter or the others around me. I didn't rustle through papers, didn't get up a lot, didn't use my phone, I just wrote out my ideas and started to envision the plan(s) needed to make this work.

Frequently I will hear teachers bemoan the fact that they do not get training (the better teachers always use the word proper when referring to training) and that it is a waste of their time. "I would have been better off in the class today than losing time here." Well of course you would have been better off in the classroom, it is what you are supposed to do. I left well written plans today, plans that I would have followed myself had I been in the class today. It wasn't a waste of time, it was what you do with the time you are given that counts more.

So when I get back to school tomorrow I will clean up what the sub left me (it should not be too much) and I will continue to teach, not wasting my time or the time of those around me. I've told my students that it really comes down to this, you can work hard each and every minute you are in the classroom and take it easy at home or you can hardly work at school and do nothing but work when you get home. As for me, I'll make sure that I bust my butt every minute I'm there tomorrow so I don't waste my time.

I Read 15 Books!

2009-09-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

I got through 15 books this summer. I started at Memorial Day and just finished my last official Summer Read today. I never thought that this was going to happen. I have not read this many books during a year (actually I can't remember reading this many books during the last 3 or 4 years combined) much less during a summer. It was a joy that I found out about all over again.

As a young boy I read all the time, it was about as normal as breathing for me. I didn't have a favorite type of book or genre that I favored, I just liked to read. By the time I entered Junior high and high school I had lost that love of pleasure reading. I didn't have books speak to me the way they had in the past. In fact, even though my degree is in English I didn't enjoy reading the majority of the things I was asked to read. I read them because I had to not because I wanted to.

The same type of burnout happened to me with swimming and water polo. I loved it in my youth but simply cannot stand being in the pool now. I actually will go out of my way to not be in the pool even during the summer. The pool is literally outside my front door and I am glad to say that I have not spent very much time at all in the pool throughout this summer. I do not miss the pool at all, it is nothing like the reading that I have missed all these years.

Some people say that teachers become burnt out during the school year when it comes to reading, it is the work load that keeps them from reading during the school year. I'm not going to fall into that trap this year. I am going to try and read one book a week for the entire school year. The math becomes pretty easy, 1 book a week = 52 books throughout the year. If I really hit my stride I could cover that before the end of this year (I only need to finish 37 more books), but it is not simply the quantity of books that I am looking at.

I still do not fall into any particular category when it comes to what I read. I read a lot of male authors this summer, and covered a range of topics and genres. I used Esquire magazine as a guide (I enjoy the writing in Esquire quite a bit), and started down the path to finding out what reading was all about again. I sat today and read the last 80+ pages of my book, then I picked up my latest copy of Esquire and read it cover to cover while I watched Kylie and her friend Remy out at the pool (I did not go in--in fact I sat in the shade the entire 2 hours).

I understand why some people do not read. They do not have the ability to sit and focus their time and concentrate solely on one thing. They want to get up and go to do something else or they do not have the ability to tune everything else around them out. Krista and Cal can tune everything around them out when they pick up a book. It is both amazing and frustrating because you have to break their concentration in order to make sure that they hear you. I out read Krista this summer (a first for sure) but I'm a distant second to Cal. Cal checks out books that same way my mother does, 15 to 20 at a time, finishing 2 or more a day if he chooses. He leans to sci-fi and fantasy for sure, but he isn't against reading other things as well.

I'm glad that I have unearthed this little gem of reading once again. It has made me a better person because I have sat down to experience the world around me through so many different perspectives and voices. There is something unique about each of the writers yet something that seems to bind them together at the same time. I'm currently out of books and tomorrow is Labor Day so I can't go to the library either. I've got a book on hold and I'm going to check my list to see what's next.

The Purity of Sport

2009-09-05T21:00:00.000-07:00

College football is back. It isn't even my favorite sport but I can't get enough of college athletics. There is something still right about it (even though I know that it has many of the same problems as professional sports) that makes me beam inside. For the first official weekend of college football I have watched quite a bit more than I have in years.

On Thursday night I caught part of the Oregon v. Boise State game. It was in Boise, on the blue turf, it was great to watch BSU take it right at the Ducks and stuff down their face. Boise is my favorite college team outside of the alma mater (UCLA). They played the best game of all time in beating Oklahoma (in the top three of least favorite teams even though my grandparents were enormous fans of the Boomer Sooner)in the Fiesta Bowl a few years back. The kids and the coach were willing to do whatever was necessary to win the game. The kids knew that most of them would never even sniff the NFL, that this would be their last game, in some cases, forever. It was fantastic to watch. You could feel the emotion of the players and the crowd, on both sides of the field, coming directly through the television. It was pure, clean and sublime.

I think that we lose a lot when the college kids become pros. There is something about the 'glitz and glamor' of the NBA and NFL (I can't really speak too much of MLB or NHL because they don't usually fill their rosters with college kids AND in college baseball and hockey are small potatoes) that rubs all of the love of the game right out of the players. You can tell it is all about business at that level. They play with world class intensity but they lack the little kid, they lack the love that got them to the point where they are able to play a kids game for millions upon millions of dollars.

Maybe its the fans that go to the games. The college game is dominated with students and alumni, fans ingrained with their teams, fans who still know that there might really be a 'next season'. I was just watching some of the Washington v. LSU game, and was amazed at the energy in Washington's Husky Stadium. I guess that is the first part that matters, the stadium name. It is not some companies name on the side of the product. UW was 0-12 last year. That is not a typo, 0-12. These kids spent from February through November (that is the real length of the regular season), working at practice, nursing injuries, watching film, breaking down opponents, and all for nought. Turn the page to a new year and they are literally rocking the stadium. The cameras that are connected to the stadium proper are jiggling on almost every play. The fans are completely decked out in purple, it is a cacophony, they are loud when LSU has the ball, hushed when UW is on offense UNTIL the ball is snapped and you can tell they think they are going to bust the next big run. You don't get any of that in today's pro stadiums.

It is that level of sport where there is not money (per se) on the line, but just the opportunity to win on a big stage. It does not exist for youth athletics or high school, it certainly does not exist in the pro ranks. You can just see something in the college ranks (and I mean any college) that makes you remember why people play sports and why people enjoy to watch them.

Just some updates--UCLA a winner (yeah) BYU beat OU by a point in the new Dallas Cowboys stadium (I bet it would have been different in Norman) and at the half LSU (11th ranked) leads UW 17-13 (I bet this will be a close one down to the final gun). I love these games.

Leaving Early

2009-09-04T13:28:00.000-07:00

I'm at home. It is 1:28 pm on a Friday and I am at home. I left work early to get here. I didn't miss a class, I don't have any classes after lunch. I'm giddy with excitement over the fact that I'm not at work right now. I have everything there under control and ready to roll. I have worked well to prepare good lessons, well prepared lessons, things that I know kids need lessons. I'm taking this time and I am going to enjoy it.

It is such a guilty pleasure to be in this situation. I have never been one to ask for very much from my school when it comes to my teaching schedule. I've pretty much been a wherever you need me kind of guy. This year was no different except I was able to get a really sweet gig. I ended up with classes I wanted as well as this glorious early weekend starter. I probably shouldn't even be writing this because there are teachers at my school who read this. I know that they will take an extra period now and then when they can as well.

It isn't like I'm going to do this every single 5th period for the rest of the year. Most of the time I'll be in my room grading papers and making phone calls and doing the teacher stuff that has to be done. I'm a lot more efficient at getting the work done then I ever was before (that is immediate and plain to me), and it is giving me the time to sit back and enjoy a few extra hours to my weekend. On a Friday I'm usually ready to be in bed and asleep by 8:00, these extra 2 hours will really make no difference in that at all. It will just give me a couple of hours to sit and decompress while my own kids are still in school. It will just make me a happier person. 2 hours is easily worth all of that.

So I'm going to go an sit on the couch and read my book with the A/C and fan combo we have going (since it is still intolerably hot), a glass of ice water and not a thought of school in my head. It feels pretty good to be home early every once in awhile.

First day jitters--I think not

2009-09-02T19:54:00.000-07:00

They came back today. They oozed out of bed and moved into rooms and desks at hours they are certainly not use to. They checked their schedules with friends and made up schemes to try and get themselves into each others classes. They listened to a lot of rules that they already know (but sometimes do not follow). Some of them were really happy to be back and some of them were ready to ditch already.

I had 9th graders today. This is their first experience in high school. Some of them trying to prove themselves that they are more important then the class or someone else or the school itself. They are 13 and 14 years old who really still can only tell their right from their left if it is printed on their shoes (for them to see of course). They are just very immature and do not know how to seek maturity.

I was glad they were in my class today. It meant that I had a class to be in. All of my colleagues commented on the big smile I had on my face all day and said that it just wasn't fair, no one should be that happy on the first day of school. I was. For the first time in years I slept the night before without a problem, I didn't think about school at all. I knew what I needed to do in each class, I knew what else I needed to do while I was at school, I knew all I needed to know. It was a great feeling. I wasn't so booked that I couldn't make necessary changes in planning and I wasn't so behind that I only had today planned. It was great.

The kids were kids. I've been reminded by so many of the first teenagers that I taught 15 years ago that they have turned out just fine. In fact, they just put on a reunion, 10 years away from the nest (they are Nighthawks), and they commented on the fact that I was a teacher that they remembered so well (former students makeup the majority of my Facebook friends). I could feel the pride swell as I hung pictures on my classroom walls of students past. It was great to look at the faces and see just why I am in this business.

My son will be a teenager in January. He is a good kid, he makes kid mistakes, he learns from them (which is really the point). I know that he will never be the typical teenager, he isn't the typical anything and I like that. I know we have a very important choice to make about where he will attend school in 9th grade. I know that he will be successful no matter where he goes.

I like the fact that a lot of the faces I saw today got the point. They seemed like they were eager (not one tardy) and they seemed to be prepared for learning and working to learn. I'm hoping that they will sustain the momentum needed to make it through the whole year. I think that it is going to be one of the years, one of the years that will make all the difference in the world.

Paying Back Debts

2009-09-01T17:37:00.000-07:00

I've always been a firm believer in paying off the people, not companies, you owe as soon as you can. A lot of things just work themselves out, a lunch here for a lunch there, but sometimes you lean on someone, usually a good friend, when you just don't have the cash with you. As a man I know I am always supposed to carry the 'emergency check', but I didn't have one for this particular episode.

It was right before Christmas last year. I was still working as an Assistant Principal at Huntington Beach HS and the administrative team had gone to good lengths to make sure a nice present was in everybody's (and I do mean everybody) hands before winter break. My principal at the time had ordered everything on her credit card and told us to pay her back when we could. I assumed that was going to be right after coming back from break but something happened.

One of the somethings was a fellow administrator was pregnant and due in the early spring. We wanted to make sure she had a good send off well prior to the craziness that goes on with school and gave her an early 'shower'. Once again, my principal at the time ordered everything and told us to pay her when we could. I still hadn't paid for the last debt at Christmas and now I had something more to pay. I was in shock over my predicament.

I just don't like to be in debt to people that I know. I learned long ago to not ask for money from anybody unless it was an absolute emergency that you just couldn't work out of. I can't think of more then 5 times in my entire life where I actually owed someone money. This was one of those times. My principal did not care about the money and made a fact in telling me so when I talked to her about it. It was not the only debt that I owed this person.

My principal was the first person to find out that I was thinking of, or I should say decided on, getting out of administration and moving back to the classroom. She was the one that I talked to about what was going on professionally, she was the one I talked to about the toll it was taking on me. I knew that she would give me two things, comfort and conscience. She knew what it was like to be in that situation of just dreading what was to come next. She told me that she did not see that in me and that the quality of the work getting down was excellent. She told me that she felt a very palpable change on campus because of the work I was doing.

She also told me to consider all of the things going on in my life with this change. She asked about what my expectations really were in entering administration. What was it that I didn't like? What was it that I couldn't deal with? Would you be willing to go back to the classroom? I remember clearly, "Chris, you aren't married to the job. You can always return to the classroom." It was the first time that I had heard someone else say it (besides Krista who always told me I support you no matter what). It resonated. It made my heart beat with anticipation.

A string of events led me back to a place of comfort much quicker then I ever imagined. At the semester change I went from being at Huntington to being back at Ocean View. It happened because my principal at the time made the calls to set the wheels in motion. It was my principal who saw me as a person first, and not just a warm body who occupied an office, that gave me the pick to start digging toward the light.

The problem was I still hadn't paid her. I owed her money, enough that you usually ask about it (not that she ever has). I went through the rest of the semester at Ocean View regaining my vigor, regaining my life. I sent a thank you note but that was it. I tried to cut ties with the school as much as I could just so I could keep my momentum going in the right direction. I didn't think about the debt until the other day when school started.

I went to the bank today and got the cash necessary for the payment of the debt. I wrote a note and I'll drop it in the mail tomorrow. There is nothing that I will ever be able to say or do to thank her for the career she gave back to me. For the life that she gave back to me. The fact that even though I had identified what was going on that she was instrumental in making sure I got on the fast track to recovery.

Thanks Janie. I hope you have another terrific year.

Back to Work

2009-08-31T17:36:00.000-07:00

Teachers experience a strange phenomenon each year. We hurry and rush to put away everything and leave for vacation at the end of the year (I have never been one to come back during the summer) and then we spend 8-10 weeks on vacation only to have it come to a crashing halt in late August (where I work). The first day is one of meetings and greetings, unpacking and unloading, and the opportunity to say "this is the year I'll . . ." all over again.

I really like the people I work with. I may not always agree with them, I may not always think that they are getting things done the way I would, but they are all really good people. I do not hang out with them very much after school hours (I have kids and they are who I belong with), but I could. A lot of them are people that I could just simply call good friends. They would be there to help me in an instant, and I would be there for them as well.

Our Athletic Director, a great friend, just got married last year, bought a house this summer, and he and the wife are thinking about having kids right away. I'll help him move. I'll go volunteer at the MS Bike 150 because his mom is afflicted, I know that he is someone that will always go the extra mile and always do the right thing. Tim was one of the first people I met at Ocean View, we were teaching the same class for the first time and we needed to figure it out. It helped that we held so many common interests. He is a great guy.

There are many others--Shane (shame), Jimmy, Jim, Jeneane, Alison, Heather, Casey, Tim B., Julie, I could go on but the list would just keep growing. These people make each and every day at work a joy. They always will lift you up, they always know where you are coming from, they always know how to make things more fun. I'm lucky. I've worked in places where that is not the case. I've worked in places that you didn't know who you could, or should, count on. That is not the case at OVHS. It has always been my favorite school, of the four I've been at.

When I got to work today it felt good. When I listened to out new principal, I felt good. When I was left to take care of my classroom it made me feel good. I saw a lot of happy people today. I found a lot of people who are ready to go this school year. I know that I am ultimately in control of my own happiness, however it is great to go to work and know that I will be greeted with smiles and laughs and stories to carry me through all 183 school days.

I'm glad that I'm unpacked. I know that I'll be able to pack away a number of stories from such a great group of friends. I also can't wait to pack up and be done for another year.

Karma

2009-08-29T17:50:00.000-07:00

I'm a big believer in Karma, or at least the western idea of what Karma is. I've never studied Karma so I do not have an exact definition, hold on while I open another tab and get a definition. Thanks for waiting. Buddhanet.net gives the following definition, ". . . from a Buddhist point of view, our present mental, moral intellectual and temperamental differences are, for the most part, due to our own actions and tendencies, both past and present." In other words folks, if do good deeds you will be repaid with good deeds and vice versa.

I'm not sure why I believe in Karma. My guess is that more truly nice people are Karma-addicts then those who aren't so nice. I guess I like the idea that someday I get "paid" for the nice things I've done for people over the course of a lifetime. The fact is I don't need a payoff to do nice things (except the t-shirt for the volunteer things), I just want to help those who need it.

Case in point, the other day I was at IKEA, loading up another project for the house (it looks great by the way), when I noticed an older couple who were waiting for the dock guy to get all the way down to them and help them get the load into their truck. There was no way they were going to be able to get this load into the bed of the truck. It was a bed frame and mattress. She was in her early 50s and her father was in his 70s and walked with a cane. It wasn't going to happen for them. I loaded up my truck (5 minutes) and walked down to ask them if they needed help. Anyone of the 10 to 15 people who were loading up could have done the same thing. I decided they had better things to do then sit in the IKEA parking lot hoping that someone would get to them. They were grateful, a little shocked, but happy to be on their way.

I can't spend my time not helping out. It just seems silly not trying to brighten the day of people, including yourself. For people who have known me for a great length of time they understand that I'm a helper but they also know that I'm a sarcastic cynic who can also look at the 'other side' and play 'devil's advocate' just because it is in my nature. I'm tired of that nature. I do not want to be the 'and/or' guy any more. I want to be, and am trying to become, the 'and' guy. This and that. Hopefully through good acts it will all work out.

So if you are in need of an extra set of hands for your volunteer event, or stuck in the lot at IKEA, if I'm around I'll help. Karma says so.

Career Choices

2009-08-28T20:01:00.000-07:00

I never intended on being a teacher. Not once. Was never on my radar. I was good at it in high school, middle school, elementary school, I'm starting to see a pattern. I seem to be good at explaining things in multiple ways to people. I seem to be good at letting people know that I truly do care about what they become. I seem to be good at commanding an audience. I never knew any of that when I was looking at careers.

I wanted to be on Sportscenter. I saw the very first one back in 1979. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. An entire network dedicated to reporting and talking about the things I loved best. I was a little more then a casual fan even at that age. I could tell you all of the Oakland Raiders by position and give you statistics on most. I could tell you who was in playoff contention in all of the major sports, I could tell you which college teams were likely to win it all (although I did not have Indiana St. with Larry Bird on my radar), in short, I could do it all when it came to sports. I was 9.

Throughout high school I knew that I was going to make it. I had a good voice for it, I had good timing, I could read a lot plays in a lot of sports, but I had no idea on how to make a go of it. None of my teachers asked. No one asked my into the counseling office to ask. I didn't know who to ask. I did some announcing for our basketball team. I did some voiceover work for the various sports and our TV Production class (the teacher would later tell me he had never seen /heard someone with such a sense of timing at that age--a lot of good that did me). But no plan. I figured you filled out an application and sent it in.

College life was even worse. In the higher education system there was no emphasis on getting to job. I met with two counselors (one at Delta and one at UCLA) who did nothing more then check to make sure that I took the right classes to transfer and the right classes to earn a degree. There was never any talk about a job much less a career. If you wanted something to happen you had to make it happen on your own. You had to have the nerve, the spine, the cajones, to go out and 'Just Do It'. That wasn't me. Outside of my time at Delta, which I knew was a pit-stop, I never worked particularly hard in any class. I think my final transcript from UCLA is every range of 'B' grade work you could ever imagine.

I fell into teaching. I was engaged and couldn't stand the people I worked with at ALLSPORT. I thought ALLSPORT was my break. A sports photography studio/sales team that worked with just about every magazine in the world. The chance to go to every major sporting event in the world was literally possible. I couldn't stand the people I worked with. I had no one who would give me directions. I had no clue what to do. I had never held a 'real' job, I had always been around books (thanks you library systems), so I had no idea what any of this was about. I was never good at asking for help, so I didn't.

I watched my soon to be wife go through her credential program. It seemed easy. It seemed like something I could do. It had so many upsides, steady work, a lot of time off, everyone needs a teacher, what was there not to like. I knew how to deal with people, especially teenagers, so why not? I became a teacher because it seemed like the right thing to do. I wasn't afraid of it at any time. My master teacher told me that he would watch me the first few days just to make sure, and he said he would be around the building if something came up. I didn't see him again after the first five minutes of the first class. He told me at the end of the day that he would be wasting his time, and mine, if he were to try to give any advice at this time.

I've tried to leave teaching. I've seriously tried on three separate occasions. Resumes, interviews, even job offers. I even took a job as an Assistant Principal because I thought I was ready to move beyond the classroom. I was wrong. I went back to my classroom (it is not mine quite yet, I've got some work to do to make it all mine) yesterday to drop some things off and get ready for the upcoming year. I had no idea how any of it was going to make me feel. I didn't know if there would be any fear, any remorse, any what ifs. It was cathartic. It was as if the room knew I was supposed to be there.

I never really made an informed decision when it came to my career. I know now that I never really had to.

Tolerate, I Don't Want to Tolerate

2009-08-27T18:51:00.000-07:00

It is hot. Today it was 95. Yesterday it was 91. Tomorrow is more of the same. I don't like it. I like to bathed in a comfortable atmosphere that allows me to not concern myself with the conditions. I don't mind the cold, rain doesn't bother me, but don't make me too hot. It is funny after growing up in the Central Valley of California where 100+ degrees can be the norm, that I can no longer deal with it once it gets up to 85.

My house does not have air conditioning. A large number of houses in Orange County, southern California really, do not have A/C. I live 4 miles from the beach in two separate directions. I should not need A/C. 355 out of 365 days a year I do not need it at all. It is those 10 days that I remember each and every year. Those 10 days that drive me crazy.

I went to Lowe's last night and purchased a portable A/C unit. In fact, I bought 2. I'm only using 1 of them at the moment, the nighttime temperature has been low enough to get the fans in the windows and get the fresh air in. This A/C unit has provided a nice little oasis in the house. It has given us a room to sit in and be comfortable during the day. We only need it for the next few days since we will be back at school next week (where even though we have had to cut everything else in the budget, we have not had to cut A/C yet). The wife and kids are watching a movie as the sunset happens, as I write, and as the rest of the world starts to cool off.

It is funny how the idea of tolerance works for people. For me it isn't about simply putting up with someone or something, it is the ability to actual live with that someone or something without wanting to tear them/it to shreds. I have come to the point in my life where I no longer will simply tolerate whatever it is around me. This has been part of my change, part of my growth, part of my new beginning.

When I went into work today, for the first time since summer started and the first time as a teacher NOT an administrator, I knew that I couldn't just tolerate what went on any more. If I need something, I'm going to get it. If I think a student can do more I will not tolerate them not doing more. It is not about confrontation it is about not settling for the mediocrity that so often comes with tolerance. I know better then to settle. I don't want to settle, I want what I believe is the best for me, my family and the jobs I must undertake each and every day.

Don't tolerate. Don't settle. Don't allow yourself to be in the easy rut that some of us dig and never get out of.

The End of Summer?

2009-08-26T20:11:00.001-07:00

Cal said he was ready to go back to school today. He is a 7th grader this year and he has had his fill of laying around playing video games, reading (at least 100 books this summer), and hanging out with friends. He is simply ready to call it done. Kylie is not much better. Even though she has spent most of the summer with her best friend Melinda (they have played together at least two days a week), she too is ready to go back (3rd grade is exciting). That leaves Krista and myself. We are parents, breadwinners, homemakers. There is no such thing in our world as too much summer.

The end of summer is always an interesting time. You try to cram in one last trip or get yourself that one last goody, finish that one last book, you just want to go out with a bang. I'm never ready for the end of summer as I have never had a job that required me to be a full time worker during that time. Most of my life has centered around the summer. At one time I actually thought that I needed to have a job to keep myself busy during the summer. I'm glad that I've gotten over that. I'm glad that I have found things to keep myself satisfied.

I can't help but think that what life would be if I would have continued down the path I was on. My focus was so different just a few months ago. My life has gone through such a massive shift from constant cynic and worry wort to optimist and thinker (not obsessor). It took a point in my life where I didn't know if I could make it to and from work. It took a situation where I could not work with the people I was directly in charge of. It took a situation where I had to look at the way I wanted to live the rest of my life. It didn't take long once I took a look at my family picture and saw the faces of those who matter most.

We often talk about being able to spend time with our families and then coming up with 1001 things to do when the time permits us to be with our family. I've spent a lot of time with my family. I've been able to enjoy time with them as a group and as individuals. I've been able to talk to all of them about what they really want to do in the future and they have been able to watch the change in me take place. It has simply been an amazing summer.

Summer is ending because we all have to go back to school. What has taken place this summer with my family will never end. It is one of those events that you absolutely know has made a change in your life that you will be able to point at forever. It was the time when I started figuring out who I am, what is really important and what is not. I'm a better person now then when I started off this year. I'm looking forward to school because I have a very clear plan of what to do and when to do it. It isn't often that this takes place, but I sure am glad that it happened this summer.

To Do List--Still?

2009-08-25T18:15:00.000-07:00

I have been able to get so many things done this summer simply because I tried. I learned how to put up insulation and drywall. I played with stucco. I painted. I decorated. I hired the right contractor for the job (not the cheapest). I still have 5 days until I'm officially back at work and I could, no make that will, get some more things off 'the list'. But why oh why does the list still exist?

The list is there to remind me to keep moving forward. The list is my way of learning more about myself and more about the way I can grow. Much as writing has become something that gets my thoughts out of my head and on to something else, the list makes me think and move forward. I love the list because I am excited to get to the next task.

I spend the time in between projects, like today, looking and planning for the next one. I'm pretty sure I'm going after the kids bathroom next. It will take a week and will be so impressive afterwards that no one will recognize it. Once that is done I'll hit up the whole house fan that is on order. I really need the weather to cooperate (not like it hasn't been a very temperate one to begin with) so that I can get into the attic spaces and insulate. Then comes the big one--painting the house.

A few people have asked me why I choose to do these things instead of hiring someone. I want to do these things. I want to have control over all of it. I want to be able to determine the way something looks because I say so, not because some contractor or designer comes in and says it has to be this or that. It is much like what my wife has done with the skating apparel, she makes it now because she knows she can and she knows she can do it the way she wants. In the end it is a money saver (after you hit the payoff time) but it isn't always about the money. It is about the desire to learn how to do it for yourself that really matters the most.

School is looming around the corner. I'm not upset I'm going back to work, I'm disappointed that I don't get to spend the additional time I want working on the list I've created for the house. The list that I get to take care of, and whittle away or add to, but the list is something that I will never forget or walk away from.

12 Days

2009-08-24T10:09:00.000-07:00

Its been 12 days since my last post. It is almost like I forgot how to write. You get into a pattern with habits, I've been told 21 consecutive times is the magic number for the habit to stick, and sometimes with new habits (diets and working out especially) it is hard to maintain them. I'm back to writing, 5 times a week (more if I have it in me), just as school comes around the corner.

Over the last 12 days I have done the following:

Cleared out my Grandmother's apartment

Gone to my Grandmother's Memorial

Put together a new sewing machine setup for Krista in our bedroom

Moved the computer to the kitchen/office area

Donated a sideboard

Moved cookbooks and china to the pantry shelves

Gone to Goodwill (I think 8 times counting the trips for Grandma's)

Put together a new entertainment cabinet

Installed 2 new tv's

Installed 1 home theater system

Hung new curtain rods and drapes

Bought new linens

Finished the outside stucco repairs

Repainted the little holes all over

Had the modem moved

Had the asbestos ducting taken out

Had a new water heater and furnace installed

Volunteered at 2 events

Signed up to teach online classes

And did all of the other things that go along with being a parent and member of society.

I guess I've been busy.

It isn't about the busy. It is about the rebirth of my soul. All of these things are about me being better. They are things that matter to me when it comes to the building, the fixing, the making it work. It isn't about the stuff, in fact there has been more going out then coming in. I have become comfortable with getting to be able to do for myself what I didn't think I was going to be able to do for myself. It has been a long time in the making.

I don't have a traditional spiritual center. I'm not a member of one particular religion. I believe that it is important to find what it is that makes you work that makes that spirituality work. I have finally figured out that I like to see things put together. I like to see things work. I like the simple and elegant. I like the fact that my kids know right from wrong, and take the right path almost all of the time. I know that kindness works, that it is okay to help a total stranger, that it is better to give then receive, and that in the end you will be paid back for your good deeds in ways you never imagined.

These are not revelations. These are not new ideas. These are ideas that I have been able to finally identify as being cornerstones in my life. These are the things that matter and these are the things that I know will make my life and the lives of those around me much more complete.

While I've been off from writing I've had a couple of people ask when I was going to write again. It is a great feeling to know that some of you out there read this. I'm glad. My 12 days are up and I'm back at the keyboard again.

Stories of My Father and Brother and Brother and . . .

2009-08-12T19:53:00.000-07:00

My dad is a talker. That is an understatement. Any one who has ever met my father has heard a story from him. He has never met a stranger, he has never not had something to say. The reality is my brothers are all the same. We all have something to say and we usually say it. I am the quiet one, although my friends at work would tell you different.

I'm writing this entry as my father and oldest brother are telling stories about everything. Yosemite, traveling, books, wine, you name it it will be talked about. There are mini-arguments on the way, "it went was on the way to . . .", "if you say so, I'm not going to get in an argument on this", it is part of the segue of the conversation. It allows them to move from topic to topic without having to depend on the events of the day or news or gossip. The conversations have been said before but allow each person an opportunity to relive that memory one more time.

We have currently moved from traveling in the south to two sets of books that were in this house for ever. The American Heritage and Great Books of the World, or something like that. It is the walk of nostalgia that I think is much more important then having the nostalgia itself. This is the importance of the living memory. It is the exchange of the information, it is the exchange of the laughter, the nuance, the remembering of the details.

We have moved from the books into what we should put on the floor. It was a quick segue, abrupt, it caused a rift. We are working back towards the story that we have been working on, what to do with my parents and the amount of stuff in the house and what should stay or go. This is the constant story that has been going on over the last few weeks (or years). We are working on this story on a regular basis. It isn't as enjoyable as the stories of the past.

My brothers are all in sales, of one type or another so it is in their nature to tell stories. It is important to be able to tell the story in order to keep the sale on the line. We all have the ability to tell the story that are client want to hear. We read people and find out about them in order to come up with what we really need to hit them with in order to make sure that the story is about them. In fact the story is more important then the sale. The sale puts money in your pocket, but the right story puts even more money in your pocket. It is the ability have people find the common ground, to make them feel as though you are just another part of the family.

The reality is we all tell stories. The stories are incredibly important to who we are as people, it identifies our qualities as people and allows us to relate to one another on a much different level. It does not matter if you hear or tell the story over again, the story is important because it is the connection that binds us together as a society. It is the details from the stories that makes us remember why we did something, or why we went somewhere, or why we trust a certain brand of a certain whatever. It really is about the story.

We are finally back to the story. We have come around full circle again. The story is more important to us because we don't lose the story we just tell it over and over again.

Money Lessons

2009-08-11T09:58:00.000-07:00

I can't think of anyone I know who does not worry about their financial health. It is a normal thing to do because much of our lives are spent dealing with money. It could be the acquisition of wealth, paying down of debt or the consumption of items. It is about money. I can't think of too many of us who wouldn't have immediate plans for more money if it came into our lives, and I can't think of too many of us who would love to never have to worry about it ever again.

When I was in high school, and I mean just starting at 14, I knew I had to make some money. I was the youngest, and academically brightest, of 6 kids. There was no such thing as a college fund. I was not going to get a scholarship playing water polo, and I had already learned to not ask my parents for money for anything. If I was going to get something I was going to have to earn it.

My first job was as a truck washer for my brother Kelly. He owned a local courier service and in order to maintain a good corporate image the trucks needed to be clean. I would wash the trucks (I think it was 5 or 6 including a big UHaul type) for $40 bucks. It seemed like a fortune. The work was sporadic in the fall because of water polo tournaments, horrible in the winter because of the weather, and pretty regular in the spring. It wasn't much, but it was money in my pocket.

I moved on to becoming a bus boy at Lyon's with the help of my brother Kurt. I was making minimum wage $3.35/hr (remember those days) and trying to befriend the kitchen staff so that I would not have to use the meal plan at work (if the cooks liked you they would mess up an order for you to eat). I hated cleaning up after people and doing the dishes. The money was better but I just couldn't endure the work. I couldn't figure out how to put it behind me. 6 months later I was gone.

I landed the best job of those early years in the library. I was a page, a book shelver. It was great. I worked 19 hr. weeks during school (which bumped up to full time in college), it started at $5.75/hr (when I left for UCLA I was up to $10/hr), it was air conditioned (a big plus in Stockton summers), and I could tune out all of the things around me. It was a great job. I really enjoyed working there and really enjoyed the people I got to know over the years. When I went to UCLA the first thing I did was go to one of the libraries for a job.

During this time I saved. I saved so I could pay for classes, my car, my insurance, anything that I needed I saved for. I missed a lot of things (at least I thought I did) during those years. I didn't go on a lot of trips to ski or to the lake or river. I had to work. I didn't go out as much at night as some of my friends. I had to work. I knew the meaning of opportunity costs at an earlier age then most. I had to work and I had to save.

I put myself through college. I'm proud of that. I've never missed a payment on anything, ever. I'm proud of that. I've never been in a situation where there was not some type of fallback position available if money got really tight (and it did). I learned the lessons associated with money and hard work. I also hated the fact that there were always choices to be made.

I think about money today as well. I don't think about it as much as I used to. I've come to understand that I will always make sure that there is dinner on the table and a roof over the table and kids in clothes at the table. I also know that money is not the be all or end all of the world as we know it. If I want to be comfortable now I will make that choice knowing that in the future I will also have to make a choice. I still hate the fact that I have to make that choice but in the end I know that everything will work its way out and that I don't have to keep my mind on my money and my money on my mind to make things work.

Art

2009-08-10T20:53:00.000-07:00

I'm sure I didn't understand art as I was growing up. I was drawn to certain things, but I didn't understand why. I've been able to really figure out what I like and why I like it as of late. It is a very strong feeling. It is a connection that is hard to explain to those who don't get art. It isn't about the understanding of certain pieces or looking for deeper meaning, it is about understanding what it is that you enjoy and understand about art that makes it work.

I've been to three art festivals so far this year. Comic-Con is a feast for the eyes on many levels. What impressed me the most was each artists ability to pay attention to line and detail. There are so many bits of expression that go into drawing comic book art that it is important that the artist is able to catch the subtleties of the emotions, things like the difference between hate and abhorrence. It is a very difficult craft that only a few really ever make a big name out of. We were able to bring home a couple of sketchbooks by two guys who really impressed me tremendously. Scott Williams, who was the head artist for The Dark Knight, has that ability to draw fluid and clean lines that go well beyond the rest of the crowd. You can feel the energy in his work. The other was an inker (colorist) whose name escapes me at the moment. His ability to discern and mix warm and cool colors to create overall scenes is passionate.

I never would have used these words about art, much less comic book art, even as little as a year ago. I did not have the understanding that I needed to make that connection. To get the pieces to speak to me. It has simply become part of who I am now. I can do more then appreciate art now, I can tell you why I like something and why I don't.

On Sunday we went to two of the Laguna Beach art fairs. Art-A-Fair is for artists of all types. This is art that is geared, mostly, for adults. We saw watercolors, oils, acrylics, photos, sculptures and the like. Landscapes, still life, street scenes, and the eclectic. One particular artist truly inspired me. He created pieces from glass and steel into large Japanese influenced pieces. A mirror he made that depicted bamboo was particularly touching. It wasn't the realism as much as the light that the piece created. It was serene and powerful. It spoke a message that was pure and clean.

The Sawdust Festival is a bit more folksy then Art-A-Fair. You have garden gnomes, toe rings, art glass, jewelry and the like. Another mixed media artist, one fusing wood, glass and steel, really had me hooked. He had created a piece that looked much like a Frank Lloyd Wright House (form and function) and a Monterey Cypress, those found off the coast near Big Sur. It was clean in its lines. Precise. It flowed smoothly from one medium to another with no break in message.

I've arrived at this point in life because I am ready to. I understand that art is important to me because I value certain things about it. I can see the beauty in the symmetry that can be created as well as the daunting challenge that asymmetry can bring to the forefront. I used to be scared of art. I would only comment on those things that landed in the mainstream because they were exactly that. I have finally learned what it is that I like and what it is that speaks to my soul. It is a great feeling to have those things go together for the first time.

The Transfer Station

2009-08-07T19:53:00.000-07:00

I went to the dump today, excuse me, the refuse transfer station in order to transfer the refuse from my parents house to wherever it is that it will end up. This was different from the landfill, er, other transfer stations I have been to over my lifetime. In fact at one point in time it was a great adventure (other then the smell, oh the smell) for a youngster to see all of the things that people would consider trash.

Today's trip was a simple drop off. Old mattress and box springs, rotted out cabinet, a couple of odds and ends, and old aluminum shelving unit. 20 minutes to get there, 2 minutes to empty the truck. That will be $10.25 please. All this for trash. It will be recycled, at least what can be was already being gaffed and taken aside by the workers there. The cabinet, the shelving unit, they went off to the other end of the station. They were the lucky ones. They were the ones who would get to live another day. They still had one of their nine lives left.

The others just end up in the big giant pile. This is the one that the bulldozer come over a scoop up the refuse, bring over to the pile and dump. They have some of those giant earth movers with the waffle stomper wheels that just run over the pile minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day. It is the punishment for the refuse, their last breath crushed out of them in a smelly pit of morass. It is the haves and the have nots. Actually, it is just a big pile of smelly crap.

I'm hoping that there are no metaphors for life in here. I don't want this to be the way that anyone is treated. As an English teacher I must read into what I have just put down. It is the nature of the profession. I think I'm wrong. I think it could be about those of us who get the chance to live again and again. We are able (or allowed) to reinvent ourselves and overcome the challenges that we are presented with. I also think that there are those who are simply thrown into the pile and run over by whatever forces occur. They do not, or have not learned, or never had, the ability to learn how to be part of the other pile. They were not able to conquer the challenges but instead they succumb to the obstacles that they encounter.

My father and I went from the dump, oops, transfer station to the Emergency Food Bank. We had four cases of cookies and a large can of Pork and Beans to donate. I have never been to a food bank before today. It made me think about this parallel between what happens at the transfer station (which really takes on a new meaning when applied to us) and what goes on with those around us. The food bank was busy the entire time we were there. Individuals, couples, families, of all walks of life trying to make sure that this was just a challenge for them not an insurmountable obstacle. It felt good to know that we were able to give something back to help those folks stay out of the transfer station.

Stamina Building

2009-08-06T21:05:00.000-07:00

I tend to think about what others need quite a bit. I've never missed a meal. I've never gone without clothes or shelter. I've never been in a situation where I couldn't get it taken care of (whatever it might be). I know some people who have gone through these stages. I know of some people who might need the help. What is important is to take care of any of those people around you so that each of us might get the help we need.

My parents are now the oldest living members of the Dornbush/Cochran clan. They are in their 70s and by their own admission, are slowing down quite a bit. They can't stand not being able to do the things that they want to do, quilting and model railroading, for the short amount of time that they can. It is not the good old days when these were all day affairs for them. They do not have the stamina. The recent dealings with my grandmother have not made things any easier for them.

I've spent the last couple of days trying to give my parents back some of their stamina. They were not in a position to move an out of an apartment, take care of all the changes that go along with a death, finalize all of the medical billing, and still run a life of their own. The apartment is empty. The keys are turned in. The billing is done. The changes in address and power of attorney are done. My parents are close to getting their lives back.

I know that my parents are in need. I also have noticed how well they are taken by their children. As a family we always rally around when the cause is needed. We call, we help, we get together. We don't always communicate outside of this. I have been able to notice just how much support, some physical, some emotional, some moral, that they have gotten from their kids. We will always continue this, and it is my hope that we will take better care of them so that the rest of their days are worry free.

I'm not sure who the worry free is about. I'm not sure whether it is for them or whether it is for me. I want my parents house to be taken care of in the manner that I take care of my house. I want to be able to see my parents yard to be the envy of all the community. I want all of this for my parents and I want to be the one who takes care of it. I want my parents to be able to quilt and railroad without worrying about all of the other issues that come up in a household no matter how old you, or your house is.

I guess what I really want is for my parents to be able to have that stamina, or at least feel like they do, to do what they want to do each and every day of their lives. Like all good exercise programs it starts out small and gradually builds itself into something large. I'm hoping that I am helping them to build a strong foundation.

Stuff and the Purging of Stuff

2009-08-05T22:11:00.000-07:00

My in-laws have actually made the term "Dornbushing" into a word that means "the random and apparently capricious act of disposing any item that might possibly not be of any use in the near or foreseeable future." You can use the word as "dornbushed" as in "he dornbushed my soda" as well. It is something that I do. I just can't deal with having things around that serve no purpose or that might some day years from now, serve a purpose.

I like to lead an uncluttered life. I want a minimal amount of things in a space. I don't want it to not have a function beyond just its form (all furniture such also have a storage capacity as well). I'll get rid of things on a pretty regular basis if I know that they are not passing the 12 month test. If it hasn't been used in 12 months it is a pretty good indication that it is not going to be used in the next 12 (or the next 12 . . .) either. I have been wrong, I have made mistakes, but I can't think of any that really stand out.

Some people think of me as ruthless. A stealer of memories. I don't need the object to hold the memory for me. I hold that in my head and in my heart. I don't even take a lot of pictures. I want to remember those moments for what they are as they happen and as I remember them at that point in time. I know that I do not come by this genetically at all.

My parents keep a lot of things. 100s of cookbooks, 1000s of N-scale trains, 50+ little houses, a fabric store worth of material, and the list goes on. They have gone through the items and gotten rid of them as the years have progressed. Their retirement gave them the opportunity to finally have a collection of something. It was no longer about meeting the needs of a hungry populace, it was a chance to be a kid and have that something that you always wanted.

I can say that I have wanted stuff. I like electronics and cars, the big ticket items, but I rarely upgrade them. I'll pay for skates for my girls, I'll make sure Cal can earn money for something he wants, but I will cheapskate myself from time to time. Lately, working on the house has allowed me to splurge on myself without feeling like that was what I was doing. It has something to do with an inner drive to make it better because I know I can.

Each time I get the opportunity to pass something on I often think about what the item might bring in terms of monetary value. I've posted some items on Craigslist, I've made a bit of money on the garage sale circuit. I really enjoy taking loads to Goodwill or other organizations that I know will repurpose and reuse this material for the sake of those who don't have it like me. It is like a year round Christmas effect, the giving never stops.

I'm in charge of emptying my grandmother's apartment. We have done a great job of going through the keepsakes, making sure that children or grandchildren or greats, got something that they might of wanted. We have also been able to take care of a great number of folks in need. I've been to Goodwill twice, I'll be at the women's shelter tomorrow, and back at Goodwill, and at my sisters, all in the name of spreading the usefulness of this stuff to those who need it. I'm enjoying this opportunity to "dornbush" all that I can.

Advice of My Father

2009-08-04T20:53:00.000-07:00

My father has always been willing to throw in his two cents when the occasion called for it. In my younger years it was more of a ninety mile per hour fastball, but as he and I have aged, it has changed to more of nice slow pitch softball lob. It is interesting how time and distance can change the relationship we have with our parents.

Chuck told me to get the degree, it won't matter what it is in just get the degree. So I did. I didn't have a clue what I would do with an English degree (thank you Krista for stepping in and showing me teaching), but I followed his advice. When I had my truck stolen he told me to do something smart with the money. So I didn't. I bought a VCR and a stereo. I don't have either of them anymore.

When it came to getting married he didn't have to say too much. I had watched over the years how he and mom had interacted and had a pretty good idea of what was needed to make things work for the long haul (my parents have been together for 50+ years). I did wonder how the two of them put up with each other on certain occasions, but I knew that if I followed the example that was in front of me, work hard, say thanks and I love you, and be thankful for what you got, that I was going to be okay. It has been this and a lot of other things that have made my marriage (16 years not 17 as reported in a previous post), has done well so far.

When it came to kids he was no help at all. He had six. Mom was in charge of us as kids (until we reached right around 12) and dad was working to feed us all. He could balance everything you could imagine but it was not like he was rushing to be part of every grand kid that came along. He wasn't going to change a lot of diapers or feed a lot of babies, wasn't his thing. We didn't make a formal "we're trying to have a baby" (aren't you always?) so when we found about Cal, he offered his congratulations and was happy for us. It was genuine, it was meaningful, but there was no real advice attached to it. It was another pretty simple recipe, work hard, play and say thanks, and be thankful for the love you have for them and vice-versa.

Recently Chuck had some advice for me. He told me to make sure that you go and do the things that really matter in your life. If you want to go so place, go some place. If you want to experience something, experience it. If you want to have something, have it. It wasn't about planning a future. It wasn't about how to manage your money. It was about living. It was the most direct advice I think he has ever given to me. Go out and live my boy, go out and live.

As your parents age they do start to turn to their children for advice. For my parents that means 6 kids and 6 spouses. What a headache it must be. I know that they value our opinions and our help because they thank us and say they love us. I've offered some advice to them, just like all of the others have as well, and I hope that it is something that is as important to them as the idea of go out and live my boy, go out and live.

Helyn Cochran 1914-2009

2009-08-03T20:45:00.000-07:00

This is the third, and last, time that I will write specifically about my grandmother and her life. She was a wonderful person who always had advice for you, if you asked, would always write you a letter, and loved getting them too, and never once in her life did she back down from a hard days work. Grandma Cochran will be missed and remembered as all people should.

As you can see from the dates Grandma lived through some pretty amazing things. She started her life with the Great War only to move into the Roarin' 20s and then headlong into the Great Depression. From what I understand, and was told, Grandma's life during these early years were much like that of other Americans. There were some bad times, there were some good times, but most there were times that you and I would call normal.

She was well educated, very bright, somewhat precocious, and always thinking. She married once, to Ruzell 'Mickey' Cochran, a bond that would last them a lifetime. They brought three wonderful children into the world, Sydney, Michael and Leslie. Each one of whom was so different from the other. The expectations from Grandma was always the same for each one of them, do your best, try hard (or harder), and always be honest to yourself and those around you. Each learned the lessons well. Each had wonderful families.

My oldest brother Keith, my sister Kim, and my eldest cousin Colleen, all have a much different perspective on Grandma from the rest of us. They can recall the younger version that was always lively and on the go, traveling, working, always ready to play. I did not know this version first hand. By the time I got to know grandma she was still traveling, albeit not as often (though always eating at McDonald's because it was something you could count on), she doted on her husband (except when he made her angry-which was not too often), and she kept amazing amounts of records and correspondence with people from all over. This was a lesson that she stressed to me over the last few years that I have truly taken to heart.

In grandma's apartment there is a box with pictures and her most prized possession. It is something that she put together, something she created, something that told the story of her life and the lives of those around her. Grandmother compiled a family history album in order to preserve the memories of what was happening in her world as each year passed. It has photos and family trees, it has some clippings and stories of how life was and it has a copy of every holiday letter that Grandma ever wrote. She was the Christmas newsletter before there ever was such a thing for the rest of the public.

In each letter she managed to say something about each family member, no matter their age, any travels, any tribulations, and each one of them was strangely familiar yet utterly unique. My wife and I were in charge of packing the apartment last week when we came across the lengthy tome once again. I skimmed through it a little, noticing the details in the writing (it is kept in a very ordinary large three ring binder), and the fact that even though she never really used showy language she was always a good story teller in each and every letter.

I'll miss the letters with Grandma the most. Even though it wasn't a conversation on the phone, which is immediate and direct, the letters we exchanged over the years (especially the last three or so) were so full of great details that it was better then any phone conversation I would ever be able to have with her. We were able to get the essence of what we wanted to say down to the word, instead of the prattle that can dominate a phone conversation. We all knew that grandma was fading from this earth as the cards became less frequent (you got a card for everything in grandma's world), and the letters did not come as often.

For her 95 birthday I made sure that the kids made her a nice birthday card, and I included some of my posts, and I made darn sure that there was a letter in there for her to sit and enjoy. I know that grandma enjoyed that last letter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Helyn Cochran June 24th, 1914--August 3rd, 2009. Mrs. Cochran passed peacefully in her sleep at the Hospice House of San Joaquin County after suffering a broken hip and femur. She passed away on her terms, as always, and leaves this earth to join her husband in the after. She is survived by her daughters Sydney Dornbush, her six children and her thirteen great-grandchildren, and Leslie Flaxington, her four children and her two great-grandchildren.

Although I no longer have any grandparents living, I know that I have all of them to thank for the person I am today.

Helping Man's Best Friend Help Others

2009-08-02T18:41:00.000-07:00

Today was my first adventure into volunteering for an event that I have no connection to at all. I simply knew that I wanted to do more for those who are afflicted or disadvantaged, and come up with a few new T-shirts in the process (see earlier post). I had no idea what to expect and no idea what I might be asked to do as a volunteer.

My wife decided to accompany me on this venture. This is a big deal not because my wife does not want to help out, but the event needed us to be there by 6:30 (in reality we should have been there at 6:00) AM. It was great to have someone come along on my first adventure. We showed up at 6:30 went to the volunteer tent and we were not on the "list". I had contacted the event host director directly and he did not relay this information on to the volunteer coordinator. She was a bit lost as to what to do with us.

We put ourselves to work by meeting with Roy, the event host. This is his cause. It is for those of all walks of life who simply are not having a good time of it. This was his first big event, a 5K run, with dogs, called Paws for the Cause. Roy had us set up a table with literature about the organization, and then he turned us loose on whatever else was needed. We both take the initiative and very rarely stand by to watch others do the work, so when we were done with the table we moved on to the Registration Tent.

At any running event, the Registration Tent is the nerve center of all the action. This is where people check in, get their running bib, goody bag, and most important, the T-Shirt. It is always busy at every event because there are always those participants who decide at the last minute that they will go ahead and do the run. When we got to the table it was well staffed and running smoothly. We were a bit stymied.

We soon came upon the next important piece of any charity event, the secondary fund raiser. This is sometimes a silent auction, other times it is a straight donation, and the most popular is a raffle for some type of donated prize. My wife and I, and another volunteer Sue, were now in charge of selling raffle tickets. 1 for $5 or 3 for $10. I can still hear it echoing in my ear from saying it for the better part of the morning.

The problem with raffles and runners is one of logistics. Runners very rarely carry anything with them that is not running related. They just don't carry cash. The good news this morning was the fact that many of them had their dogs with them which meant that they had to carry quite a bit of other "stuff" to make sure that Rover, Bubbles, or Roscoe were well taken care of. I was here to volunteer and this was the task. It wasn't something I was really looking forward to, but I wanted to help this organization and its cause, so I started into the huckster role of the carnival barker.

My wife and Sue were recruited to the timing of the event. This was a hand timed event, most of the bigger events give you a microchip to attach to your shoe, it is amazingly accurate because it does not start your time until you cross the start line and touch the finish line. I was stuck selling tickets. Part of the problem now was the lack of people to sell to. My customers were running for the next 3.1 miles. Most of them would finish in well under an hour and then they would take off. No sale. Profit lost. No additional funds for the program. I needed something else to do, but what?

I quickly moved to breaking down boxes and getting the registration tent ready for cleanup. I was asked to deliver a box of gifts and prizes to the emcee tent, hosted by a local DJ and former Angel baseball player. I wanted to turn over the tickets to those who were supposed to be doing this in the first place. The group who signed up to be here at 8:00 AM to make sure that more money was raised for the cause. The Laker Girls. That's right, I was doing the job of the Laker Girls. In fact, I'm sure that I was responsible for more sales then they were. No spandex for me thanks, just good old fashioned hard work.

I finished up at the finish line so one of the other volunteers could take his family to breakfast. I was in charge of getting the bib tear off, the ID so that people could check their time for the race. The folks who were finishing at this time, the 1 hour+ mark, were not worried about their time. They were there to go for a nice walk with their dog and friends and support the efforts of the organization. Every person I met this morning was doing their very best to make sure that the efforts of the organization were first and foremost in their minds. At least every person but one.

I had the opportunity to interact with the one person who apparently had other things to concern herself over. In the Registration Tent, we give away T-Shirts, that way the vendors and sponsors can get the extra advertising that will have little to no effect on whether or not someone uses their business. Races usually have a few Smalls, some Mediums, and a lot of Large and Extra Large shirts. It is always a first come first serve situation. You really want a small or medium, get there early. This lady wanted her small. Despite the fact that all of the volunteers working the booth apologized for the fact that we were already out of smalls, and that we had no control over the ordering process, when she was asked what size a second time she still said small. She complained to us. She wanted to rant. We apologized, gave her a medium and sent her on her way. I hope she had a good race. I hope that she had as good a time as the rest of the participants and the volunteer staff. I know that I can't wait for the next time I volunteer. By the way, I got a Large and so did my wife.

Home Sweet Home

2009-08-01T17:19:00.000-07:00

Vacation was a truly great time. It certainly wasn't about the destination (Stockton is not the garden spot it once was), but it was about what went on while we were there. We were greeted with open arms and warmth and a loving family atmosphere that allowed us to really concentrate on the good things that needed to get done.

We stayed with my best friend Matt and his family for the first couple of nights. It was an amazing experience to have such openness and "my house is your house" really mean it. Leah, Matt's wife, simply took us all in and made sure that we were treated better then you ever could be treated in a four star resort. Everything was taken care of and we didn't have to worry about a thing.

The best part was the fact that Adam and Jacob, the eight year old twin boys, took such good care of my kids. They warmed up to Cal and Kylie as if they had been playing together all their lives. It was a special bond, something that simply happens not something that requires any effort. They all just hit it off. They kept each other entertained and out of trouble and out of all the adults hair. Krista and I were able to get some important work done at Grandma's and my parents', and Matt and Leah were able to just 'be' without the constant thought of how do I keep the kids entertained now, feeling.

We left Matt and Leah's on Wednesday night (their 9th anniversary) and moved over to Susan Thomas' (Matt's mom) house. I have always been welcome here, fact is I spent just about every Friday night in high school at this house. Susan did not care that we showed up at 9:00 pm, she didn't care that we were taking off early to get work done, it just didn't matter. She had us set up in the best Bed and Breakfast you could ever imagine. We needed nothing. We asked for nothing. We received the world.

We don't travel a lot. We don't like to travel because we don't like hotels. It just stinks. You get treated like a piece of meat and you never get the opportunity to really be "at home". There is never the opportunity to be at rest because you never really know what is going to happen in your room or while you are out. Our last two experiences have been the only way that I really want to travel any more. Two year ago we were able to rent a house and cook and clean and run it the way we always have. This last time, staying with great friends and family really gave me the perspective on relationships that I haven't really experienced before. It is something that I know is more important then anything else you could imagine.

Nothing is better then being at home, at least in my family. We like to experience new things but we really like to be able to do things our way. This last trip to Stockton was like a trip home. Thanks Matt, Leah, Adam, Jacob, and Susan, we couldn't of done it without you.

Road Trip!

2009-07-26T19:15:00.000-07:00

We are on vacation. Well sort of on vacation. We are on vacation in the sense that we are away from our home for the week. It is not a cruise or an airplane ride to some scenic getaway. We will not come back tanned and massaged. We will come back from our trip better off then when we left and in conditions that are different from when we got started.

We spent our time on the most scenic drive ever known to mankind. We got the rare opportunity to drive between Orange County and Stockton. The great "Valley Corridor" of Interstate 5. I-5 is one of those drives where if it were possible to hook up your car to stay in its lane (and everyone a safe distance apart) you could read a good book during that time on the road. With the exception of the Grapevine, it is driving at its dullest. I think even CHP officers don't bother pulling folks other unless they are really screwing off.

I've made this trip three times so far this year, which is about twice more then I would have made it in any single year. The first time was for the State Basketball Finals (my school lost), the second my friend Jon's very unexpected funeral, and this is the usual trip to visit with my folks. Each one has taken about the same amount of time in getting to Stockton. Right about 5 hours (it is 370 miles--I'll let you do the math). I've made it in 4.5 from OC before. When I was at UCLA (about 35 miles closer) I once made it in under 4. It is about the timing (early morning is best), whether you can make it without stopping (or at least nothing more then a 'splash and dash', and what kind of traffic (truck especially) you get along the way. The right combination is crucial to making a good (great) time.

Coming back to OC is a different matter. It is all about LA and what happens there. If you hit it just right you can cruise through it without getting stopped at all. If you hit it at the wrong time you can literally take just as long to get from LA (the 405 just south of Magic Mountain) to Orange County as it did to get from Stockton to the 405. It is just maddening. The only good news is the fact that in LA there are things to do and places to eat. It gives us the chance to do something in order to 'let traffic pass'. Just plain dumb.

We are starting this year's trip in San Jose. Kylie is skating at a competition, the ISI (recreational) World Finals. Anyone could have entered. We chose this one because it was either a good start or end to the rest of our trip. Kylie has been skating really well and we are all hoping for a really great result. It would be cool to be world champ, even if it was something we 'qualified' for by making sure our paperwork and payment were in on time. We are only in San Jose for one day and then we head to Stockton for the rest of it.

We are in Stockton to see my parents and grandmother. For the regulars you know that grandma has had all kinds of problems with her health as of late. I will go and make the trip out to see her at the nursing facility in a couple of days. I'm not looking forward to it much because I was the last person, outside of my grandmother, to see my grandfather in the hospital when he passed away. It was very difficult to see him in such a withered state and I am hoping that this trip is not a reminder of that. One of the main tasks will be working on grandma's former apartment and getting things in storage. It appears that she will spend the rest of her time in the nursing facility.

We are also in town to see my folks. My parents are in their mid 70s and are not as mobile as they once were. I told them to make sure they had things for me to take care of while I'm in town. I want them to get the house taken care of so that they will not have the worry of what might go on later in life. My brothers and sister are also in the process of helping my parents divest of many of their gatherings over the years. I am taking a large die-cast car collection and selling it for my folks. I am also taking a couple of sewing machines for my wife so she can continue sewing skating costumes. There is a ton more and I am hoping to make some inroads on getting more things, stuff that has dust that is older then the grandchildren (Andrea is 28 I believe).

We have seen my parents go through their parents homes after they passed away. Know we are dealing with grandma and the nursing home and what is left of her possessions. We know, and hope, that my parents have quite a bit of time left on this planet. We also know that they have a lifetime of collections within the house (and sheds, and greenhouse, and closets, and . . .) and we want to ensure them the quality of life without chasing them off from their stuff. It is hard. In fact it is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I hope my folks understand that none of the kids want anything other then the best for them. We just want to be able to make sure that all of us know what that means.

Nerds of the World, Unite!

2009-07-25T20:13:00.001-07:00

I spent my 17th wedding anniversary at the world's largest gathering of geeks and nerds. I was told to go by my wife, who spent the day with my daughter cleaning the house, in order to keep track of my 12 year old son. He is the reason that we went to see the largest collection of everything that would label someone a dweeb on this planet.

We saw half a mile of convention center filled with toys, anime/manga, posters, t-shirts, video games, movie promos, and comic book art and artists. If you can remember the name of that greasy headed kid who sat in your Algebra class and was always doodling or reading whatever would have been the equivalent of Harry Potter or Twilight, there is a good chance he, or she, was here at Comic-Con.

My son was overwhelmed. Heck, I was overwhelmed. The shear mass of products and promos, the thousands, I'm sure it pushed somewhere between 50 and 100 thousand people at its peak during the day, and the frenetic pace of all of it was something to behold. We were there with a family friend and industry insider (he has done every job that would get you to Comic-Con, currently a toy designer) and his 10 year old daughter. We were in good hands because we had someone with us that knew the ins and outs of the building and the right paths to take.

The "stuff", the really big "stuff" from Nickelodeon, Warner Bros., Paramount, Lionsgate, Hasbro, Mattel, Konami, Nintendo, Marvel, DC, etc., was not nearly as impressive as what was available for no cost at all. All of the biggies had freebies, giant bags, t-shirts, mini-mags, and the like, but they were not the soul of the "Con". It was in "Artists Alley" where we ended up spending most of our time learning about the art and love that makes all of the other "stuff" possible in the end.

Artists Alley is the place where the artists, inkers, and colorists set up shop. They are there to renew acquaintances, do some networking, and show off what they have done during the past year. They are folks have a genuine passion for what they are doing and have never worked a day in their life in this line of work. They love what they do and do what they love. I was able to find out from Steve, my friend who got us in as Professionals for the day, that these folks really are starving artists if they don't line up enough work to drown themselves.

Cal and Devon, Steve's daughter, brought along sketchbooks and smiles, and hoped to get a few drawings, say 7, to get s start on their collection. Steve is nearing the end of his third book, a collection that in the "Con" world is filled with priceless (I'm not kidding) gems that other artists sit back and marvel at. The kids were a bit shy at first and had to be prodded, but they picked up a number of drawings (all free) that was staggering. Between the two they ended up with 47 sketches (23 for Cal and 24 fro Devon) from artists that have done cover work, published books, done game cards, video games, toys, you name it. They both walked away with books worth somewhere in the neighborhood of $600.

The other things they walked away with were priceless. They both, me too as I watched almost each and every piece get drawn, learned the appreciation of what can be done by someone with the right mind set, training and purpose. These kids got to know what this, or any other artwork, is really about. They also got to learn how to give back to the artist. Many of the artists commented on the fact that it was nice to see the kids and a pleasure to get them involved in the work that has involved so much of their lives.

I loved watching what went on for my kid yesterday. To see his eyes grow as the sketch of "The Flash", or "Captain America" came to life. Our favorite drawing of the entire day was also one of the first. A young lady who is a San Diego local, just trying to get a start, drew a wonderful little platypus for Cal. It's cute. It's lively. Then she outdid herself with a drawing for Devon of a rabbit standing on its hindlegs eating a carrot sandwich. It is a classic image that I adore.

I'll go back to the Con. I don't think I'll stray to far from the Alley though.

The Aging

2009-07-23T20:46:00.001-07:00

There are two ladies in my life that are aging very quickly. I can literally see the day to day differences in them. They are having trouble with their mobility, sight, hearing, and are not as sharp as they once were. They are unable to enjoy life because of these conditions and medical science can only prolong their lives without necessarily improving the quality of their lives.

At first she started making noises like she was lost, like she was unable to find where she was supposed to be. It progressed to shaking in what looked like uncontrollable spurts. The next symptom was a loss of appetite and an extreme amount of lethargy. Lately it has been the inability to see where she is going. You can tell her frustration. You can sense her loss. She is actually running into walls, chairs, others, and she never saw them coming.

Princess is our first addition to the family that Krista and I started. She has been with us since the summer of 1992 and she is now 17 years old. It doesn't sound like much, but Princess is our cat. 17 equates to something well over 100 in human years. She is more lovable now then she every was growing up. We are starting to attribute that to her inability to see. We have really started to notice it a lot this week. She just can't get to where she wants to without it being an enormous struggle. She still manages to smell her way around the house, getting to the food and water, going through the cat door to use the litter box. She has not lost her ability to control her bodily functions but it is only a matter of time before we will have to make a decision on how much she is suffering. It is hard to watch because she has been with us for so long. She is older then our kids.

My grandmother is going through a similar scenario. Grandma is 95. Up until she turned 95 she was mobile (a walker an occasional wheelchair, but able to get around on her own), alert, and able to tend to herself and all of her needs. She was one of the few residents of her, I don't know what the correct terminology would be, "home". She did not have someone giving her meds (she only had one or two to take), she did not have someone helping her move or use the facility or any of those things that we all take for granted until we lose those abilities.

Grandma fell two days after her 95th birthday and broke her hip. She has had surgery on the hip, has had to move to an actually nursing home and had around the clock help and supervision. She has not taken any of this well. My grandmother is a stubborn person but she is not someone who is going to put up an argument with you face to face. Usually she will just not do something if she does not want to do it. That is what has been going on since she left the hospital the first time. She will not eat on a regular basis. She will not cooperate for therapy for her hip. She is wasting away.

Matters got worse just recently. She somehow managed to fall again and fractured her femur, on the same leg as the broken hip, just above her replaced knee. She had surgery last night and is in recovery again today. She is too weary to give anyone grief at the moment.

I get to make a decision about my cat and how long she goes on. My grandmother does not get any choice in whether she continues on or not. She is not crazy, she is not senile, she is simply old and when old happens like this it compounds itself very quickly. With both of these ladies I hope that the rest of their days are better then the ones they have had just recently.

Mealtime

2009-07-22T19:51:00.000-07:00

I made Beercan Chicken tonight. It isn't difficult at all as long as you follow the recipe the first few times. I can just about grill-roast a chicken or turkey to the minute without having to check it at all. I love the way these birds come off of the grill with such a smoky flavor and juicy tenderness in every bite. It is one of my favorite things about the summer.

The fact is food is one of my favorite things period. I love to eat. I love to eat well. I can't stand fast food or prepacked heat and eat crap. Those things turn me off faster than a dog licking peanut butter out of my ass crack (George Pelacanos wrote that line in a book I just finished). My family likes to eat food that is well prepared and well thought out. We are picky when it comes to food. We will try anything, but we want to make sure it came out of our hands, following our rules, following our tastes.

It can get down right bad at times. We have virtually stopped eating out anymore because the quality of the food is so bad and when we get the bill we realize that we did not even enjoy what was in front of us. At this point and time about the only thing we eat out anymore is seafood, fish and sushi specifically, because that is one of those items that we just never quiet get right. It isn't tricky, or so we've been led to believe, but we have thrown away or eaten overcooked fish on more then one occasion.

We usually turn down invitations to go and eat at the neighbors as well. The two men are both grill masters who have never really taken the time to use temperature as the key to cooking over fire. They do not read recipes and the like to cook ribs (one of my least favorites off of the grill). When we do go, we usually make sure that we either eat at home before hand, that way we only have a little bit of the food there, or we will bring over something that we know we will eat as kind of "we thought this would go well with . . . " gesture.

We have also taken over the local holiday cooking as well. Usually this is the exclusive territory of the eldest living female in the area (in this case my mother-in-law) however we have become snobs when it comes to this tradition as well. We always offer to cook on Thanksgiving and Christmas (the other holidays and birthdays we offer as well), so that we can make sure that we serve a meal that we will want to eat. We always look at the whole table and make sure that we serve something that everyone will enjoy, but we always want that food to come from our hands and kitchen.

We like to cook. We love hearing the satisfaction that comes from peoples expression and thanks. It really is important for us to have that big family meal (and during the summer it is all three meals) each and every day. I grew up with my family around the dinner table. We watched the news, we talked about what was going on, we bonded. It wasn't always pretty, but it was when we knew we would be together at the same time to make sure that we knew what was going on in each others lives.

That is what the importance of meals together bring. It is about being able to share good food and family time in order for everyone to see what is happening in our bubble of the world.

Letting Go

2009-07-21T20:14:00.000-07:00

I met with the new Assistant Principal at my school today. He has taken over the post that I, willing, vacated. Even though I have not been thinking about that job or what it entails, I guess I have been thinking about it. I have not been able to give it to someone else until today. It was the starting point that I needed in order to move away from the job at large.

When I got my first AP job, all the way back last year, I had an idea of what I was doing. I knew that the majority of the job was about kids and discipline and attendance issues. This is what I really thought I was going to spend my time on. If I been able to spend my time on these items I might not be in the position I'm currently in. This might not be my 30th post this summer. I might not have learned how to hang drywall, or repaint the kids rooms, or read 10 books in 6 weeks, or . . . .

I dealt with adults. Adults who did not know how to always conduct themselves for the betterment of the kids around them. I dealt with those who always had something to say about the kids, I dealt with parents who were always coming up with an excuse for their kids (or their own) behavior, and I dealt with ALL of their problems on top of what I was supposed to do, as well as those things I wanted to accomplish. I've never been the one who wanted to be in charge. I'm a great helper, I'm a great thinker and creator, I'm not good at getting (forcing) people to do what I think they should already know to do.

When I met with James today, James is the new AP, I didn't see myself in the office. I didn't see myself longing for the position. I didn't see me in that spot anymore. I was able to help him, and in turn help the school, and offered my advice and knowledge on kids and how to approach some of the tasks he will face this summer and into the fall. He looked confident in what was going on. He seemed to be ready to face the tasks and deal with all of those things that will come his way. I was happy to let him know that I would be there to help when he needed something, that I would throw my two cents in when necessary, but that I knew that the job was not mine. It was a satisfying feeling. It was another step forward. It was something that made me tell some one just how great my summer has been.

It is good to know that you are good at somethings. It is even better to know that you can be good at somethings and be able to walk away from them and not do them because they are things you do not want to do. I'm looking forward to what the school year has in store.

You Choose

2009-07-20T20:45:00.001-07:00

I did not sleep well the past two nights. No wonder with Krista being out of town on Saturday night (known and expected) and Sunday night (missed connection and a stay in Dallas), I just didn't have the home touches that I'm used to. Each morning when I woke up I told myself that I could complain all day about being tired and not do anything other then mope around the house and yell at the kids or I could get up and get going and accomplish something so that I would feel the pleasure that comes along with getting something you want done.

Over the past two days I got Cal's room painted, put together a menu and grocery list and finished the laundry. I got up and did it. I made an effort to start moving forward with my day instead of letting those things that I don't have control of, Krista's not being there and a poor night of sleep, stand in the way of me being a grouch all day or not. I was rewarded each day. This all seems like such a simple concept, I've been to therapy about it--I've read about it--I've created mantras about it for day and night, but I got up and did something about it. It is the action not the thoughts that make the biggest difference.

John Wooden, or at least I've seen it attributed to him, said to not let activity be confused with achievement. I've achieved a lot this summer. In fact, this has been the best summer I have had in many, many years. I do not grouse when I awake, I get going, I feel alive and in control. I have learned who to build a wall (literally), I've helped change my kids' rooms, I've been able to tackle much of the Honey-Do's that have piled up over the last six years. It has happened because I choose to make it happen. This blog is my evidence of what goes on.

My grandmother is now 95. She is still as smart as a whip and until recently, could take care of herself and all of her needs. 2 days after her birthday she suffered a fall and broke her hip. She has had to make a choice every day since then about how she wants to feel. My family is aware that she is ready to go and that she makes no bones about it. She has seen enough she tells us. When we visit it is only for her to tell us stories that we have all heard before. She is at a nursing home trying to recover. She is not being a great patient by any stretch of the imagination. I'm sure that she has opened her eyes on more then one day at this point in time only to curse the fact that she was not in the ethereal that the afterlife might be. She needs to choose for herself how she wants to handle this. No one else can. We all encourage her and tell her it will get better with time and effort, but these are things that she has already put a lot into at this stage of her life.

I know that we will all make a choice tomorrow about how we approach our day. I hope that you approach yours with the same enthusiasm that I will have.

Home Alone

2009-07-18T20:13:00.000-07:00

Krista is in San Antonio for the next couple of days. She is presenting her wisdom to teachers about Advanced Placement and how to teach it better. She is a pro. She is the one that so many people say to their colleagues, "if you get the chance to see her or get her to your school you should." I'm not kidding in the least about this. She just recently held a private consultation for a couple of teachers at the beginning of the summer based on this kind of recommendation. She is that good at what she does.

The problem is that it usually means she has to travel somewhere "exotic" in order to get the job done. It pays well, $500 for the day plus expenses, but it is always an empty feeling when the check comes in the mail. The time that she is gone, and it usually is pretty short this days, is really a downer. Neither one of us sleeps well, we both get crabby, and we want the whole thing to be over as soon as possible. This does not take into account anything that might be going on with the kids and their schedules, the normal errands and chores, nor all of the fun things that have to happen in order to travel. It is something I can't stand.

Krista knows I hate it. She only does it to keep her name out there and to help out those people at the "Board" that she respects. To her it is nothing more then skating money. Get in, get out, get paid. She has made quite a few contacts through all of this, and has been able to really see what the rest of the nation is doing and dealing with when it comes to education. She is a voice of reason to these arguments. She is out there to help make teachers teach kids better in the classroom. It really is as simple as that.

I just don't like having her gone. The kids don't like it either. They are strange with the way they handle it though. They are usually perfect for the time that she is gone and then the second she comes through the door they act like they are on crack. It is bizarre. It is them listening to her say "be good for daddy" and taking that literally. I'm the one who has the most problems of the bunch while she is out, that is for sure.

During her departures I usually find myself wasting a lot of time in front of the computer, eating food that is not good for anyone, sleeping during the day and not sleeping at night. It is all psycho (I know I am) symatic. I convince myself that things cannot be accomplished because she is not around. That all decision making processes must be put on hold because she would know better ("grape or strawberry jelly?"). It is a dilemma that I have only conquered through making sure that I keep myself busy. Today that meant starting to paint Cal's room. Tomorrow it will mean more of the same.

Krista will be back, weather permitting, Around 10:30 tomorrow night. She will be exhausted, and so will I. She will come home and fall asleep as quick as can be, but I still be up just to make sure that she really is back home where she belongs.

Guilty Pleasure

2009-07-17T16:59:00.001-07:00

I have a guilty pleasure I indulge in every time I go online at home. My wife knows about. I can't get away from it. In fact there are some days when I go back to look over and over again. It is just one of the those things I can't get enough of.

I love looking at the "FREE" postings on Craigslist. It is something I can't get enough of. The most popular give aways are dirt (always clean) and cardboard moving boxes. After these two it usually is IKEA furniture. I've encountered everything from a desk, to wardrobes, cabinets and lamps. All of them were working and in good shape, although slight used. I can't figure out why people would get rid of the IKEA stuff.

This really satisfies my hunger as a browser. I love to just see what is available at places like Costco, Big Lots and the occasional jaunt to the 99 cent store (or less!). I like to think of it as a treasure hunt where I will be the one at the next gathering who can say, "I found it at (fill in favorite discounter here). It was only (fill in ridiculous low price here)!" The thing is, I haven't had that kind of luck. I've found great deals, acted on some of them, but really I just like the pursuit. I'm kind of a voyeur when it comes to shopping.

Craigslist is perfect for doing all of my browsing without ever leaving the house. One thing will lead to another and the next thing you know you are actually looking up something that you might actually need and/or use. I've never seen a more active place then the postings for Los Angeles. One day there were over 150 postings for free stuff. Curb alerts, driveway dumps, in the alleys, you name it, it was there. It is the perfect place to find a new TV. I'm not kidding. Go look right now and I guarantee that you will find at least one working TV that is free of cost. It will not be a flatscreen but it will be a TV. The best posting was a picture of two iPods. The title "take my son's toys away please". They were gone in a flash.

I just cleared out the garage and had a driveway full of stuff. I did not post it Craigslist. There was some really good stuff. A couple of bookcases (not from IKEA), some old cookbooks, some old clothes, a lot of things that I'm sure people could have used. I took them to Goodwill instead. When it comes to big loads I want to make sure that people in need really get the stuff. I have gotten rid of a homemade workbench on CL's though. It was great to get so much attention.

I've got to go. I have to see if there is something I need on the list today. Maybe today I'll find that pot of gold.

Menu Time

2009-07-15T19:15:00.000-07:00

We make a weekly menu. We've been doing this for as long as I can remember. I picked it up from my mother while living at home. Monday was always Mac & Cheese (not that crappy stuff in the blue box). It was a weekly adventure to figure out what to eat on what night based on what was going on. It still holds the same interest today.

During the school year we try to make our meal selections as utilitarian as possible. We steer towards one pot, one skillet meals that provide a lot of leftovers (lunch the next day and a couple of future servings in the freezer). We will put together a list and hit the stores, on an exceptional week this will be the ONLY trip to the grocery store. The whole process of menu and list usually only takes thirty or so minutes.

The shopping can be involved. It is always two or more stores. We can't stand the produce at the big chains. It taste like sand. We have a local market that literally has farm fresh produce. If it is in season then they will have not only the best of the best but also the best price on it as well. It is something that we have tried and tried to convince ourselves that we can make do at the other stores, but it is not possible. The shopping takes place on the weekend and can take a couple of hours. It beats having to do any of it after work and practice during the week.

When putting together the menu, Krista will start going through the cookbooks to get ideas going. I play along and "listen" as she goes through the recipes and starts to read them to me ingredient by ingredient. Her mother does the same. Her sister (who does not cook all that much) does the same. I try to keep in tune because it can mean the difference between a wonderful meal and an "Arby" meal. "Arbier's" are meals that are so bad you will go and eat at Arby's instead of what you just cooked (we have not had an official one in a while--we have bitten the bullet and got close--but no actually trips to the restaurant whose hat looks like a penis). We have pared down to only a few cookbooks (this means 20 or so--not counting the 4 magazines we get with recipes in them), so we know what to expect on a pretty regular basis.

We eat well. We sometimes don't always read the entire recipe and have to improvise, but the food always comes out great. You might not eat it that day (cause you forget how much time it takes) but it taste great the next time for sure. We try not to eat out because of the low quality of the food, the price, and the inconvenience that going to restaurant causes. We had three meals out over the weekend (two dinners and a lunch). We spent more on those three meals then we would have on a weeks worth of shopping. It just doesn't compute.

So the next time you are looking for something good to eat take a little time to think out your plan and be able to savor that well thought out meal.

Professional Duty

2009-07-14T20:18:00.001-07:00

I was signed up for a conference last Friday and Saturday. It was paid for by an outside agency and it was for a class that I would not be teaching. My motivation to drive to an airport hotel, not just any airport but LAX, on a Friday and then a Saturday was waning to say the least. I was looking for just about any reason I should not attend however my professional duty kicked in and I went.

The conference was not half bad. The presenter knew her stuff and her audience and did not waste our time. I was not displeased to hear what was said about career/life planning for 9th grade students. I think that there are some really good things to use in the classroom setting. I think this is something, that even though it is the middle of the summer, that is getting me excited about going to school. It is time to go, early in fact and ahead of traffic, and then the conference starts to grind.

As I get out to my car I realize that the parking was not picked up by the conference. Usually this is something that I do not have to worry about. In 15 years of this kind of thing I have never had to pay for parking. Not only do I have to pay but I have to pay $16 to get out of a lot that I was lucky to find a space in to begin with. I remembered that I can write off the parking, it was a good conference, and that tomorrow I'll be there at 8:30 and not have to worry about parking.

On Saturday I got to the venue on time (early as always) and found even more problems in the lot. Not only was I going to have to pay for the spot, again (bringing the total to $32 so my car can sit idle), but now the attendant has told me to go to a neighboring hotel because this venue is full. I'm beginning to get my hackels up a bit at this point. But I signed up so off I go. I go to the next hotel and their lot has a clearance of 5' 11" (I drive a Nissan Titan that sits well above that mark), as well as the fact that they are not expecting any overflow AND they do not have the capacity. My conference started 15 minutes ago. I'm starting to get upset. I press on to the next lot. Private. Between the two hotels. No attendant. A pay in the lobby place with no posted prices. I'm gone. It is 9:00 I've missed 30 minutes and will miss at least another 20 before I even get in the building.

I've never signed up for a conference to not attend. Never. But I've never encountered difficultly gaining access either. It was bizarre. Usually every thing you can imagine is done to make sure you can be there. Extra copies no problem. Email any questions no worries. Extra bag or pen or widget, take what you want. Not this time. I called my wife, a teacher as well (who has never missed a conference either) and asked if I was being a schmo. No way. How many lots? 3? Take off.

I went home and then to the rink to watch my girl skate in competition. It took me awhile to drop the guilt/anger that I felt. I got over it when I saw her smile and she told me how happy she was that I was going to see all of her routines. It was the most important conference that I've ever been to. No parking issues the rest of the day.

Projects and Projects

2009-07-13T20:22:00.000-07:00

I'm very task oriented. I love the feeling of getting something finished. I like to see it through from the start to the finish all in one fell swoop. No middle dabble into something else. No getting another project started before this one is finished. I like to get it started and get it finished and then move forward.

I'm getting closer to being done with the drywall in the garage. It really looks good. I'm amazed at the difference it makes in the whole space. I never thought that it would ever make such an overwhelming difference to what is really not a room that I spend much time in. My father-in-law helped me put up the drywall. He was instrumental in making the measurements and cuts. He said something today that made me very proud. I've being doing the 'mudding', taping joints and using joint compound to finish the wall before getting it painted. He told me that the next time he does drywall he wants me to come and do the mudding. It was a great compliment coming from someone who I consider to be pretty darn handy in all respects.

The problem with projects is that they can sometime interfere with other projects you have going on. I am trying to reclaim my girlish figure. I have let (knowingly) creep back on my frame since March. I got off to a great start with my eating and exercise programs and then just fell off the cliff since I became programmed to my project in the garage. I started missing workouts because "I put up the insulation, drywall, etc" and that will count for it. Then it was a weekend binge that has really got my head spinning. My body is ready to be reclaimed. I am ready to reclaim it.

What makes it all unusual is that during the summer I usually am "out of shape". The fact that I am working and moving all day and then working out truly must exhaust my body. I just want to get to the school year where I have already taken off the unneeded poundage and flab so that I can not worry so much about what else I need to do. Of course when you start adding in the reading I'm doing (I'm on my tenth book of the summer) and the writing (I think this is post 24) and the projects (garage, attic, kids rooms, a bunch of finish work) that what I'm really learning is the art of balance. It was the lack of balance in my life that through me off track to begin with.

When I went into administration I was told by a friend at work to not lose sight of having balance. Make sure that you do not become your work nor your work become who you are. I was not capable of that. The job consumed me and then it devoured me and then it turned my soul inside out. When I made the shift in schools mid-year people could tell I was not the same. I wasn't. I'm still not. I'm far better and happier now then I have been in a long, long time. It has taken some reminders about the most important projects (me, my wife and kids) that have allowed me to tackle some of those other things that you just want to do.

Inspiration

2009-07-12T17:02:00.000-07:00

A couple of people have asked me, almost demanded, to make sure I write something everyday. It is not the easiest task in the world. I have to narrow in on one particular topic that I have not been able to really expand on before and then type enough to make the little elevator thingy on the side of my writing pane get small enough to let me know I've said enough. The toughest part is the idea for that day, once that comes the rest of it is like being a housecat, no worries at all.

I've been 'off' the past couple of days. I did not write on either Friday nor Saturday. On Friday I was at a conference for the better part of the day, a school thing during the summer (you mean teachers work during the summer too?), and on Saturday I was supposed to be back at the same conference and then in Lakewood to watch Kylie skate. I was not in the mood to write at the end of either day.

Not that these days did not provide me with material. Don't get me wrong, there was no lack of material (I'll share it with you during the week), I just did not want to commit myself to 'paper'. My goal has been to write something new, something about a page, about everyday. It is the first time in my life that I have ever written each and every day. It is the first time in my life that I have taken the opportunity to really sit back and reflect on something at the end of each day. It has been a great experience each time I sit down.

Another goal with this is to not dwell on the obvious. If it is something that has ended up on the news and the talk/late show circuit, I'm not very likely to talk about it. I am trying to deal with the things that each of us deal with on a regular basis. It is not about how I feel about the Michael Jackson Memorial (are you kidding me?) or the latest news that the government was spying on ALL of us without permission (no way), it is how I feel about the 'nothing' that goes on during my day. I'm not Seinfeld. I haven't put these things down before. It is cathartic. It is strange. It is something that gets me engaged better with what is going on in my life.

So as I write this week I will tell you more about what happened, or didn't. I'm sure that I'l do this between getting the garage finished, starting to paint the kids rooms (time to redecorate) and learning how to do stucco patching. I'm a busy guy this vacation. I'm going to make the most of it.

Exhaustion

2009-07-09T19:41:00.000-07:00

As promised, the garage is now drywalled. I learned quite a bit from the experience and the experience has left me exhausted. It is a good tired but I'm tired. My feet and ankles are killing me (prior injury doesn't help) and I really want dessert but there is nothing of the "bad" stuff in the house (on purpose).

Cal is pooped out as well. He has been at basketball camp for the last three days. Full days. 9:00 until 4:00 each day. He loved every minute of it but it really wore him out. He is starting to get the idea that hardwork does payoff in the end. It has been good to watch both the tired and the light bulb go on.

Krista is wiped out. She is learning to sew ice skating stuff. She is trying to help save the family budget and gain a little more creative control. She has not had the greatest nights of sleep, which is very unusual for her. She has been busting her rear end with skating and running and playing and baking. She is ready for bed.

Kylie is just plain tired. She went and spent the night at Gammy's and that always means a little (or a lot) less sleep then normal. She had an hour lesson this morning, which was a follow up to all of the other skating she done this week to get ready for the big competition this weekend. She just want to sit around and watch cartoons.

We are a tired family. We are all really happy but we are all really tired as well. It is one of the times when the good news is the fact we are on vacation and not headed out the door on a trip to get away from it all (which is in many cases not relaxing at all). We are just getting ready for tomorrow and what it brings to us.

I'm pretty sure there will be some sleeping going on around here tonight.

Skills, Mad Skills

2009-07-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

I insulated the garage today. Just me. No one else. I did it for practice (the attic is next) and I did it so I will be able to do it later on when my kids call me.

I've been lucky to grow up around two men who were able to put things together and learn what to do and how to do it. My father has always been very good at building things. He built a number of sheds (all still standing after all these years), greenhouses, and numerous toy boxes and footbeasts. He was a true wood butcher.

My father-in-law is the engineer. Electrical, mechanical, plumbing, devices, a way to rig up the impossible (or at least the pain in the butt) has always been his forte. I've watched (and learned) how to do a number of things because he has always been willing to give it a try. He is the one that always gets the call to come and fix something.

I never really had any terrible interest in fixing things or putting things together. I'm great at the concept. I can tell you what I want it to look like with no problem at all. I'm just not that great at getting it together. I've had great tutors (see above and add in my brother Kelly as well to that group) but I never really sat down to do anything on my own. I never thought it was all that important.

This summer I had a list of things I wanted to get done around the house. Some of them require me to learn new skills. Some of them are things that I will be able to use later on in life when the kids call and ask me to come and help them. I have begun to realize that there is likely to be a generation in the very near future that does not know how to do things around the house on their own. I can't be one of them.

Tomorrow my father-in-law is coming over to help me put up drywall in the garage. I've told him to help but to let me do it. I want him to look at the job I'm doing and criticize where needed and teach when necessary. I want to be able to take care of this issues on my own. I want to look at the light fixture in the front room and change it when I want, because I know I can.

Motivate, Motivate, Nah

2009-07-07T19:44:00.000-07:00

I had one of those days where I got up raring to go and do something, anything, and just couldn't do it. I went to the gym and had a great workout but just didn't get much farther then that today. The good news is I don't feel bad about it. There is no bad news and sometimes in situations like this that is all you feel from the situation.

I had big plans today. I was going to get my rear over to Home Depot and get the supplies I needed to insulate and drywall the one unfinished wall in the garage. It is part of my home improvement bent (you should see how Cal and I made the tile sparkle) that usually takes place during the summer and then fizzles out about the third week of vacation.

I wasn't tired, I wasn't upset. I did not think about it much at all. I just couldn't drag myself to the store to do it. I didn't watch the macabre proceedings of the Jackson memorial. I didn't spend too much time on the computer just wasting time. I didn't spend a lot of time reading. I just didn't get to it. Bottom line. Nope, didn't do it.

I like to look back on each day and know I got something done. It could be that I read a lot, called someone, ran a bunch of errands, something, anything it doesn't matter, but let me have the chance to point at it and say 'aha' at the end of the day. Today's moment(s) are going to the gym and getting gas in both cars. I indulged in a guilty pleasure of walking, nay, meandering, through Costco. It was a glorious 30 minutes or more of just looking and picking up and putting down. I walked out with nothing that I didn't walk in with.

I just poured through 35 pages of my current book during the last hour. It wasn't a response to not getting anything done as much a response to not wanting to watch the crap on the idiot box. I did the dishes, took Cal to basketball camp (he is wiped out), emptied the dishes, made dinner, but I don't have that one thing to look back on today. In the very recent past this would have kept me up tonight. The things you could have done, you lost a whole day, when will it get down? I've changed. It is okay to not have something to hang on to each and everyday because, in the words of John Wooden, "a lot of activity does not always equate to achievement."

So when you look back on what it was today that kept you going, or your project that you finished, remember that you got a lot of things done today, or not. Neither of them matter, what matters is the fact that you are okay with just what you managed throughout.

You'll Understand When You Have Kids

2009-07-06T09:50:00.000-07:00

How many times did we hear that statement during our teenage, college, and pre children years? It usually reared its head when we had complained or whined about not having access to something or having to actually wait for something or worse yet work for something. It is one of those statements that you wish your parents would stop saying but you know that they will never grow old of it.

I was smart enough to understand that my parents were making a point and that someday I would get it. I even told them that "I am smarter than a lot of parents, but not my own." A statement that still comes back as a matter in conversation to this day. I did get it. I did figure that someday I would really understand what would happen if I ever did have children of my own.

As the youngest of six I was not so sure I was going to have kids of my own (if I ever got to the part where I was going to be able to make a choice). I did not have a difficult childhood, I never went hungry, I didn't know any better when it came to having or not having, and I spent a good deal of my teenage years alone with my parents. I had run the gamut. I did not know if I wanted to drag another human, or humans through the journey of life. In fact I didn't ever consider it for most of my college years.

On the night I met my wife we talked about kids. We talked about how many. I didn't hem or haw. I said I thought that a couple of kids was a good idea. No hesitation. No loss of thought. It was a gut reaction and it never changed. I do not know what causes this phenomenon. It was the same as looking at the sky and telling someone what the weather was for that day. I have not given it any thought until I had kids.

Cal was the baby that took all of the work. He was first, early, and complicated. He was orange during a long rainy stretch ("just get him into the sun"). He went to the hospital every day for what seemed like weeks. He wouldn't feed. He had to be fed through a tiny tube attached to my finger while Krista pumped. It was a long baby period. He would not sleep regularly, we vowed to be a team (for the sanity of us both), and we plowed through. We understood now that we had a kid.

Kylie was no work at all. An angel. Did everything just like the Dr. ordered. It was a breeze. Of course it was difficult to get there. We had to actually decide that we wanted the work that went along with it. We had to decide on timing. We had to find out why we were not having any luck conceiving. It all worked out. We understood because we had kids. We knew the work that would go with it.

I get choked up over stupid things now. When I'm watching schlocky movies or TV shows with the moral that the kids will be able to do whatever they want. Those get me. Those bring me to literal tears. I saw UP yesterday, and cried. I won't give it away. But you would understand if you had kids. During the summer we are all off together. We make sure the kids have some camp or lesson time, but not so much that they only do those things. We make sure they have some dead time, time that they have to fill. Someday they will have kids of their own (if they so choose) and they will understand finally because they have kids.

Routines

2009-07-03T19:42:00.001-07:00

I wish I could say that I'm spontaneous. I'm not. I'm pretty darn calculated in the things that I do. I get in certain grooves (which have become ruts at times) and do things over and over again in a comforting ritual. The way I run these routines, or I should say the way these routines run me, encompasses every aspect of my life.

The routines are simple things. Doing the dishes before going out the door to work in the morning. Working the crossword puzzles before going to sleep. Writing at around the same time each and every day. Eating in patterns (good or bad). Working out or not working out. It is a strange dance that seems to take over my life.

I'm not OCD, but I'm close. I can alter routines and drop them altogether. I just happen to like the comfort that I am provided by the routines themselves. It is one of the reasons I am so picky about traveling. I need to be able to adhere to the routine. I need that next hit just like an addict. I want to be able to do things but I want to be able to things the way I want to do them.

This is the next problem though. I like routines but I don't like to make a lot of decisions. I am very flexible and am willing to change what I do or when I do it, as long as I don't have to make a decision. I've been trying to get Cal to not agonize so much over the little decisions in life (chocolate or vanilla?) so that he will be able to make decisions throughout his adult life. I think the two things go together in some strange kind of symbiosis. They live off of each other in certain peacefulness that allows me to function in all types of situations.

I both have a schedule, yet have no schedule at all. I can do anything, or nothing at all. It allows me to be all that I want to be and to be all that others may need me to be, to a point. The downfall of all of this is when I don't want to break from a routine and don't want to make a decision. It is the passive-aggressive equivalent of a Molotov Cocktail. It is just danger waiting to happen. I usually swallow my pride and mope (I am famous for my mopes) but lately I've been able to steer clear of it all.

I know tomorrow I will donate blood. I know I'll do the dishes, but I'm not really sure what will go on after that. I know that my routine will guide me, or not.

July 4th and the Idle Minds

2009-07-02T15:44:00.000-07:00

I enjoy the feelings of patriotism that is invoked each 4th of July. I think about what courage it must have taken to break away from a known entity, the supplier of goods and trade, in order to set up an entirely new country. It amazes me that this even happened and that it turned out as well as it has (some moments better than others--but I have the right to write this because of what happened). It also amazes me what happens in my neighborhood each year.

I live right next to the pool. From my front door to the pool fence is 15 feet. I'm closer than any other family in the tract. It is a tiny 12 1/2 yard pool that is 5 yards wide. Just a big rectangle with water. No diving board, no slide, just water. I get to live with all of the riff-raff that goes on at the pool whether I want to or not.

For the last four or so years, people in the tract have organized a party for the 4th. It involves roasting a pig, playing badminton and croquet, and wading through the morass of side dishes that wander in from those who show up. Of course all of this takes place right at the pool. Right outside my door. Start time for set up 7:00 am. Clean up time, well after I've gone to bed.

My neighbors are good people. They mean no harm and really are just looking to bring the community and their other friends together to celebrate the reason we get to have parties like this in the first place. I just don't want to hear about it anymore. They start their planning months in advance, no joking, on where to set up this or that, how long the pig might take to roast this time and whether there will be enough food and drink for everyone. It becomes the only topic of conversation from late May until the blessed event.

We have gone out of our way to participate and not participate over the years. We don't really enjoy the loud noise, excessive drinking, numbers of people, or trust the quality of the cooking (we just aren't into food poisoning). Not to mention the constant walking into my backyard by people searching for the shuttlecock that they have hit out of the "court" (the fence has been blown down recently used for the court--they are making a new post-in-a-bucket to continue).

We don't voice our objections to the party. We have celebrated other places, have left early, have simply gone inside when we were done (the good part is we do live close enough to do all of those things whenever we want). I overheard them talking about the party at the pool today. The topic that I thought interesting was not about the size of the pig (100 lbs--too much, too hard to cook evenly, will never be done on time), nor the new post system for badminton, what got my attention was the fact that the board does not see this as necessarily the greatest activity for the whole of the community. I'm on the fence. Being the homeowner who is most impacted (and has never been asked about my opinion on the party itself) I want to say "make it go away". Being someone who understands the importance of the day itself, the real meaning of the struggle this country has faced to become what it is, and the struggle it faces to keep moving forward, I want to say "keep on going".

The 4th will come and go. I'll donate blood in the morning and get my T-shirt. I'll come out to the party for awhile here and there (mostly to watch my own kids), and I'll climb back into my house when I want and as often as I want. All of this is good news.

Volunteer--Who me?

2009-07-01T18:35:00.000-07:00

For years I have said "I really need to donate my time to something". It usually ends up that my time would be donated to the couch, computer or some "chore" that I invented as being more important than the cause. I did something different this summer that I think will make a big difference.

I have committed myself at 5 different events so far this fall. They are all walks or runs for various diseases. I don't have a specific cause. I think that all of these ideas are worthy of someone helping out to make sure they can pull it off. They are on Saturdays when I'm available. I've signed up, my email confirmations are sitting in the inbox. I feel great and I haven't done anything yet.

What was so different this year? As stupid as this sounds, T-shirts. My friend Tim, organizes a team of students each year to walk in the MS Walk each spring. A couple of them signed up as Volunteers instead of participants. They needed to clear some detention hours, I needed proof of service, hence the T-shirt. I've worn it with guilty pride a few times this summer already. Emblazoned with VOLUNTEER in bright international orange across the back. It is my muse.

I'm helping these causes because it doesn't take much of my time. It will not be brain surgery and it will be for a good reason, each and every one of them. I get the opportunity to meet all kinds of people from all different walks of life who really will have a story to tell. I hope to tell them all during the fall. I know someone, or of someone, who has been affected by each of these diseases. I feel like I'm helping friends and their families directly.

I'm getting an early start on this giving thing this week. I'm donating blood on July 4th. I figure that there has been enough blood spilled for this nation in causes both good and bad that I can afford to give mine on a regular basis as well. I've donated before, but its been awhile since my last donation. I'm looking forward to it. Besides, I get another T-shirt.

It was all just too easy

2009-06-30T19:58:00.000-07:00

I got Cal to the orthodontist this morning a little early and the next thing I knew he was done. We went to school so I could drop off a key for the new guy and it went by fast. I am looking at a pretty good teaching schedule on top if it all. Went to Home Depot to make a return. Two minutes in and out. Went to the bank to talk about an auto loan. Out the door with time to spare. Dropped of a prescription, in the drive thru at Walgreens. No line, three minutes. Even with drive time it was only an hour. It was too easy.

When we got home the girls were up and about. No skating today. Coach had called and Kylie is fighting off a summer cold. No big whoop. Time to check the email to see if I had a deal I could live with yet for a new car. No bites yet, but it is only 10:30. Cal is starting on the baseboards, yee-haw! Another job I do not have to do. Another $40 for him.

11:00 and I have a deal on the car I want. Auto loan in hand. Lunch before going to the dealership. I'm trying to find the hiccup, I'm waiting for Murphy to show me his laws. It isn't going to happen just yet. I'm sure he is waiting at the dealer.

1:30 we are at the dealership. The MINI looks great in its final glory. A quick detail by me last night left it in beautiful condition. I still can't stand the car. Noisy, small. No practical value at all. We meet with the assistant to who I've been working with through email. The price is done, he is there for what color, let me check your trade, it's been nice working with you.

He comes back after the trade with an acceptable offer right off the bat. I'm still waiting. The phone. "What was that? I already told them 16. You told me 16. They are going to walk." Ahh, Murphy has arrived. He knows we are going to leave. Apologizes mightily for his arrogant general manager. It's only 1:45. I already have the answer after 15 minutes. At least I know. I tell him to call me if anything changes.

Krista is pissed. She hates everything involved with the game of car buying. She is angry, not at me, not at the salesman, not at anything other then the idiocy of the system. We are about half way to getting the kids. Cell rings. "Hello. Is that the best he can do? Is it in ink? Your sure? I'll call you back in a couple of minutes once I get stopped to talk it over." The backup offer has shown up to boot Murphy in the rear. $200 less than what I wanted, but a good fall back none-the-less. The change is a dollar or two on the monthly. "Start writing it up, we will be back in a few minutes."

The transaction proceeds smoothly. No extra sales job. Nothing. The salesman knows we aren't buying extended warranties, or gap, or body rust inhibitor, or any of those things that everybody tells you are crap. We are over to finance and it moves quickly again. Sign here, you sure you don't want that there, what's that loan at? I can beat that. No extra paperwork. A little more money in your pocket. Done.

We go through the checklist of all the bells and whistles and do-dads that go along with the purchase. The sales staff even catches the error in paperwork BEFORE we are off the lot. Everything works as promised. The deal is done. Krista was able to read a couple chapters in her book. We are out the door. It's 4:00. Two hours thirty minutes. That includes the leaving and going back.

I don't have any remorse for this one. I didn't get screwed. They made a fair deal. It didn't ruin my day like it usually does. Krista is thrilled because she has a car that she can use, a car she can drive with more than a book of stamps in it. I'm happy because I didn't even get close to angry customer mode. No confrontation.

My sister-in-law has had a rough patch as of late. She is a CPA and although tax season is over, it never is really over. Her husband lost his job, and has started a new one. Her oldest is being potty trained and is almost there. Michelle has been dealing with a mother's stress of sending her oldest to preschool as well. It has hit her like a tsunami. By her own admission it has been downright crappy. She told Krista that she finally had some hope this weekend. She finally could see the sunny side of the street. All this and she too ended up with a flat tire.

My misery thy name is MINI

2009-06-29T20:59:00.000-07:00

Krista went off with Kylie at 2:00 to ice skating. Normal Monday routine. At 2:15 she was back. "The tire light went off in the car again." Normal routine.

We have an oddball garage at home. I have an enormous, overpowered, Nissan Titan truck (which has actually hauled quite a bit during its tenure) and Krista has a tiny, overpowered, MINI Cooper S. It is the bane of our car time together these last 17 years.

The MINI is a blast to drive, when you actually have some open space to drive it. It handles flawlessly and it can downright fly. When it is all cleaned up and spiffed out, it is one hot little ride. When they first came out she wanted one. Luckily, we still had another car payment we were making.

We have enjoyed the following cars together over the past 17 years:

Suzuki Samuari

Toyota Corolla (which was Krista's, then her dad's, then mine)

Nissan Altima

Nissan Quest (had to get the minivan when the kid showed up)

Toyota Pickup (off a used lot and boy was it used)

VW Golf

VW Passat

and the two current carbon footprint eaters. I can say with all certainty, I hate cars now.

I really love cars. I go out and test drive cars on a pretty regular basis. I read about cars, do research, ponder, dream. But when the rubber meets the road, I hate them. We have decided that the best car is the one that has no payment. The reality is it is nothing more than a big batch of metal that gets you from where you are to where you aren't.

The recent ruin of GM and Chrysler are the underpinning of poorly designed cars. They had nothing that anyone wanted to buy. The cars themselves weren't all shoddy, but they had no appeal. There was no lust, no want, nothing that made you sit up and take notice. I don't care what my car looks like as long as it runs, does the job with little of my effort, and does not cause me a headache.

The MINI does not fit my definition, nor Krista's, any longer. She is tired of loading for a full day of work and skating in a car that is literally not much longer than your fridge if it were laying down. The trunk is the size of one of those mini-fridges that you keep in the TV room so you don't have to get up and miss your stories. Cal, who is now almost as tall as Krista, has to bend himself in half to occupy the back seat. With a full car, it sounds like the kids are sitting on our laps and screaming in our ears.

I'm hoping that the MINI will not be around much longer. So is Krista. So if you're in the market . . .

The Doldrums of Summer

2009-06-28T20:18:00.000-07:00

The kids have been out of school for 11, count that, 11 days and already have begun to mutiny. Today Kylie was bored and Cal was tired. Let's have a little recap of what they have done recently.

Kylie--on Wednesday went and played at Melinda's house for 3 hours before going to ice skating. On Thursday went to a Roller Skating party. On Friday went to Disneyland, her new painting class AND had a sleepover at Melinda's house. Saturday she lazed a bit trying to catch up. Today she was just bored (after having to be rousted out of bed at 9:30).

Cal--on Wednesday went to a friend's house the entire day. He and Colin were given free reign on their bikes to explore all the Fountain Valley had to offer. Thursday, not much really. Played in the pool, read, played on his computer. Friday, Disneyland and then stayed up till 10:00 watching Smackdown! Saturday the pool again, a little bit of work around the house with dad. Today, like his sister, out of bed at 9:30. Went over and made a cool $50, his iPod Touch fund, working all afternoon for his grandmother cleaning and weeding.

I remember my mother telling me that I was simply not allowed to say I was bored during the summer. I was at the pool, on my bike or playing a game with friends all summer long. I didn't have to make phone calls because all of my friends were within walking distance or at the most a simple bike ride away. No elaborate play dates or get-to-gethers. Just go out and do something. I can't remember so much as a shower during the summer prior to my teenage years simply because I spent so much time doing so many other things, and ended (began, never left) at the pool.

Kylie has ice skating four days a week minimum. she now has this art class on Friday afternoons. Mix in few other things and she is packed with stuff to do. Cal will be in basketball camp in a week. He has a lot of chance to make some $$$ here at home with the jobs I like to see get done, but don't like doing. He will read all day or watch a screen of any kind all day if given the chance.

I want both of them to be normal. I want to be able to have some time to myself (I'm beside myself that it is still, even if only for a couple more days, June!) and read, write, workout, work on the house and generally have a good time. I'm not bored. I'm having the time of my life! I guess it took me quite some time to get to this point. I was trusted by my parents and older siblings to make the right choices when it came to going out and about. I think I did a pretty good job. I just want my kids to know how to handle the down time that comes with that dreaded place--the real world.

Sleeping

2009-06-27T21:09:00.000-07:00

I don't always sleep well. I am very particular about so many things. Temperature, sounds, clothes, thoughts, routines. I've tried just about everything to make it work better but it just doesn't seem to help.

I started a number of years ago with insomnia. I just couldn't go to sleep. I would sing songs, think about the things I had to do the next day, what I didn't get done today. I read, meditated, medicated. Nothing worked. Then I started falling right to sleep one night. No issues at all.

Of course I wasn't staying asleep. It seemed to fall into a series of patterns. At the appointed hour, sometimes 2:00 AM, other times 4:00 AM, I would break out into either a sweat or a shiver. I end up in the bathroom trying to cool off or warm up (I usually have two sets of pj's out each night) so that I can get back in bed successfully. Of course, I had to get back to sleep. It happens most nights, it is just fitful. Tossing and turning, until minutes before the alarm is due to go off, and I'm in a deep sleep.

My wife and kids sleep. My wife lists sleeping as one of her hobbies on Facebook. She never has problems getting to sleep. She never has trouble sleeping all night. She can sleep. My kids--the exact same. I'm glad for it. It keeps me from the worry.

I usually don't write this late in the evening. I find that writing keeps me up. I usually don't watch TV at night because it keeps me up. Tonight will be different. At least that's what I'll tell myself again tonight.

Home Improvement

2009-06-25T18:53:00.000-07:00

My friends who have not yet bought houses laugh at me when I give them this advice

"Dig a hole in the backyard, put a bunch of cash in a bag and bury it. It save you a lot of heartache later on."

They aren't sure whether it is about how much money they will lose on working on the house or the amount that they will need to work on the house. It doesn't really matter now does it. Every trip to Home Depot, Lowe's, the nursery, anyplace that has anything to do with doing something to the house is usually as good as a trip to the ATM.

We have a few projects that we would like to take care of in the near future. I use the term near future to mean anytime between now and before we die in the house. We have some real projects, you know the non-glamourous work that has to be done in order to maintain a real working home. These are things like the water heater (which I'm sure is 20+ years old) and the furnace (no A/C here--thanks a bunch for that beach living) which I know is the original (40 years old. These are not eye popping, just necessary. These are things that I know I need to hire a professional to take care of. Good news is I know enough people who are in construction that will be able to help out. The bad news is I have no idea when the cash will show up to get this done.

The other projects are simply cosmetic. Painting the exterior, repainting the kids rooms, getting the closets done, doing something with the interior doors, and the like. These are items that really can take up a lot of time, energy and money. Things I don't really have. I've become pretty good at painting but some of the other things smell of a specialist.

The really big project is our Master Bathroom. I can use those terms loosely because I can actually hurt myself in our shower because it is so small. It was designed by someone who had no idea what they were doing. It is the sore thumb of the entire house. The rest of the house they got right (well maybe the atrium is a stretch) but this room was an afterthought. It is arranged as elegantly as the bathroom in a RV. It is all function that falls upon itself in order to work at all. We know that this is something that someone else will have to take care of. We know that this is something that we will not get to for sometime.

I survived our kitchen remodel. In the end it has turned out to be one of the best investments I think we could have made. I love my house. I have done the work on both of my yards on my own. I have learned what I am capable of and what I am certainly not.

We went to Lowe's today. I didn't spend a dime. Came out with a paint sample and some ideas. It was one of the best trips I have ever made to a home improvement center.

Grandma Turns 95

2009-06-24T17:27:00.000-07:00

My grandmother turns 95 years old today. She takes less medication then either of parents, gets around on her own, takes care of herself and has seen almost a century worth of change. She does not operate in our modern world very much, she has a phone, got rid of her car and license years ago, watches television but does not venture to far from her room in the "senior living community" she lives in. She is in better shape than almost all of the others in the building.

I've written letters to her for years. In fact, that was one of the first places that I learned how to write. It was in the form of thank you notes, wish lists or what happened during the summer types of correspondence. She was always thankful to get the letters and always sent another in return. It was her way to ensure that the chain of information was not broken.

These letters slowed down on my part during my teenage and college years. It was always something that I knew I should do, but something I could never get myself to do. I was too busy with my ego, figuring out who I was (or thought I was), what I wanted to do in life and how much I ached to get out of Stockton. The letters would have made a difference because she would have been able to simply assure me to follow my heart or write a story from her past that she knew would help me see the situation a little bit differently.

When I got married and settled down the letters started to flow again. I had stories to tell, pictures to share and years of advice to seek. I never had to ask overtly for the advice, it was always implied in the outgoing missive and always returned in kind. The letters have been far more enjoyable to write then any phone conversation I could ever imagine.

It took a lot for my grandmother to move from Lancaster to Stockton. Lancaster was where she had raised her children, helped support a family, lost a son and a husband. It was her house and neighborhood no matter how desolate the cityscape may have been. My oldest brother and I took turns visiting her when we both lived in southern california (prior to moving to Sacramento). The visits were always to ensure that she was in good spirits and good health. It took everything we had to get ourselves to go but once there the visit itself was always a pleasure.

I talk about my grandmother a lot to students. Most of them know their grandparents but do not have the idea of what 95 is like. They ask me many questions about the changes she has been through and I relay the information back to them because I already know the answers. They were the same questions that I have asked her over so many years of writing letters. I'll be sending another out today because I know that we both love the process.

"Customer Service"--Yeah Right

2009-06-23T17:08:00.000-07:00

I took the kids to the dentist today. Normal cleaning, trying to avoid any long term pain in the pocketbook. Kylie loves to see the dentist, Cal not so much. I get there early, no rush, good book, ready to sit and read when the receptionist hits me with the following:

"Did you get my call yesterday? It was to confirm the appointment and talk about your insurance. Delta Dental says the kids are not covered."

The mere fact that she said insurance meant that there could be no good to come of it. I can't stand talking to anyone involved in my insurance. I don't trust them, I don't think they are honest and have not known too many cases when they deliver what they promise in a timely to you manner.

You know that insurance is a sham when the doctor/dentist charges 50 to 60 percent more to the insurance company than they would to you if you were paying cash. What a rig job. My family is extremely lucky with the coverage that we have because we don't have out of pocket expenses to worry about. Both my wife and I have our own coverage that also covers everyone else in the house. It is a joy, when it works, to just drive up to the pharmacy and drive away with the prescription without ever opening the wallet.

Because we have the exact same people and the exact same coverage and the exact same employer, I thought that today's conversation with my Delta Dental representative would have been a piece of cake. I explained the situation, clearly and calmly and asked what could be done to change it back to what it was before. "It's not our fault sir." Never mind that they had already been paying for things the last six years. Never mind that there has been no change in my employment status. Never mind the fact that my wife has the exact same coverage and hers is right.

I dispatched of the underling, who did try to pass me off to another underling, and was sent to the supervisor on the floor. My sarcasm level had grown by this point. I was no longer completely calm nor completely cool. The supervisor came on and gave me the same company line as before. She was not able to do anything because all they did was "adminster the benefits" (at this point I was trying to figure out what the benefit could possibly be). I again pointed out all of the EXACTNESS that was going on with my wife's benefits and wondered why the company simply couldn't put the check mark back into the boxes next to everyone so it looked like it did before the screw up. She wasn't authorized to make such a change.

I knew this conversation was done. I wanted one more shot, one posit of the truth, something that let me know that they did understand but feared for their job, no matter how crappy it was to deal with people like I was closely getting to be, that I asked the question that I knew they couldn't argue with.

"You see my logic with all of this don't you? I just need to know that you get all of what I've said here today"

"I see the similarities sir, but I can't do anything to change it. We have to get notification from your employer."

A patsy. A rube. A shill. She's just doing her job as she has been trained so that she can go home and pay bills each night. She wasn't the problem, the problem was the system. I called my insurance office at work. She told me there was no way that should of happened. No way that could of happened. She would call Delta and get it taken care of right away.

So when we talk about having control over things, it looks like that isn't always going to be the case. I can't believe that I spent as much time and energy on something like this only to have someone not see the point, not see the issue, not see the problem. It has been cleared up (thankfully). But you bet I called all the other insurances today as well.

Games People Play

2009-06-22T20:17:00.000-07:00

I hate to admit this but I am totally addicted. I can't seem to stop myself. At times it seems to take over whatever it is I'm supposed to do because I can't get away from its call. I am stuck on Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook.

I'm not the only one. I have a long list of my friends who play as often as I do. They seem to have the same hangup as me. My father-in-law is completely stuck. He has theories as to the best strategy, the time you are most likely to get a high score and why my sister-in-law seems to get better scores than all of us each and every week.

It extends past the good old Blitz as well. My wife plays FarmTown. She even set up a farm for me that she runs, so that she can continue her own assault on farming prowess. The object of the game . . . I'm not really sure other than growing more things and selling them in the virtual economy.

Last week Blitz was down. You would have thought the world had come to an end. Suddenly a whole new crop of games starting popping up on my notification screen. They were the store brand version of the name brand product. Same ideas and concepts but they seemed to lack that same addicting feel.

I wish I could say that this is just an oddity among my family however, it seems to be something that afflicts all users of electronic media in some way. I remember growing up with pong, super breakout and pinball, the 2600 and on and on. There was always a game that I could never get away from. I also did not fall into the trance for very long. I preferred being outside playing football, baseball or basketball. I also grew up in a time when parents simply let their kids go off and "be back by dinner".

As I watch my son (totally addicted to screens--doesn't matter what) and my daughter (no addiction at all--will simply walk away) grow up I have to wonder if this is something that will have a negative impact on them. I realize that it matters more that we are involved parents and that they also learn to cope with the periods of unstructured time that many of us don't know how to take care of as adults.

I'm hooked and I don't care. I still went for a walk, a swim and played tennis with my kids today.

Father's Day

2009-06-21T20:17:00.000-07:00

Keith and John are two very similar yet, dissimilar father's. One is my oldest brother, the other a very good friend. They do not get the opportunity to celebrate Father's Day anymore.

My brother Keith lost his only child, Kenton, three years ago. Kenton was 20 years old, a Junior at UC Santa Cruz, and a young man from all reports, who was really getting his life together. He did not really know if he wanted to go to school. He was very bright, very personable and without a clear path in life out of high school. He had interned for Thrasher magazine as a high schooler, taken up photography and had a love of nature. He lost his life the first day of classes doing something that he usually would have never done.

Kenton hated cars. He skated everywhere and had the tickets to prove it. He was dropping of his girlfriend on campus, he had walked with her there and preparing to skate back to the house he had a room at. he had been offered cars by his father and mother, declining on every occasion. Kenton was looking forward to the term starting. He had just taken part in a summer course that was part naturalist, part biology, and all about pulling out of society (as we all know it) and finding a connection with the soul. He had accomplished that. He had purpose and drive.

One of Kenton's buddies saw him in near the parking lot on campus and offered him ride back up the hill. Kenton accepted something he never would have before. As they were going back to the house, the driver lost control of the car and Kenton's side of the car was T-boned by on coming traffic. He was worked on furiously, he was helicoptered out to the hospital.

My brother was in New York on vacation. He received all of this information through cell phone calls and campus representatives and family members. He and his wife canceled everything, found help in an airline (thanks Jet Blue), and rushed back. When they got to Kenton it was not a matter of would he make it. It was well beyond that at this time. It was how would he help others. My brother and his ex-wife, Kenton's mother, made the decision to donate everything that could be harvested.

My brother still mourns this day, just like he mourns everyday about the loss of his child. he knows that there are literally pieces of Kenton that are alive today. He has the chance to celebrate that part of life each day. I can't think of anything that my brother would not of done for his son.

I met John Boles when I was about 10 years old. His brother Jeff and my brother Kurt, played water polo together and hung out as friends. Naturally, we were the little brothers that had to be watched so we were drug along. John and I ended up playing water polo together as well. 5 years of high school and summers that were some of the happiest days we saw together.

John was not the prototypical athlete. He was small, not particularly fast, but he always wanted to win. It never mattered what was played John wanted to win. John became one of the most prolific scorers in our high school's history. He went to community college to continue playing ball and hoping to land a scholarship.

John was not the best student in the world, but he made do. What John really did well was talk to people. He always had a story, a joke, something that took the edge of a room. He simply loved to have a good time. John managed to get himself a scholarship chance at Hawaii-Pacific, and left the mainland to play ball.

When John got back he was still the same. Always joking, always playing, always wanting to win. We were at a party at his apartment in Sacramento where he and his fiancee were living at the time. Krista and I had been married 3 years, and we had started to get the adult part of life rolling. John pulled me aside and asked me how did I know that Krista was the one? I told him that she just got me, she understood everything. He told me that night that he knew Paige was the one for the exact same reason.

John and I had grown apart since that time. We went to the wedding. Saw each other once or twice a year. Then we moved back to Orange County. I had not seen John in years when I got a chat message from him on Facebook. Still same old John. A story, a joke, wanting to win. He had a family he adored. Sons he couldn't spend enough time with. Kids he was grooming to be just like their old man. A couple weeks later I would get a different message on Facebook.

John was killed in a traffic accident. He was making a sales call, out on the road. A traffic situation happened and John never had a chance to get away. Game over. No jokes, no story. He left behind a wife and two kids. The service for John was enormous. There were more people present for this event than our 20th reunion which had happened just months before. People came from all over the nation to pay respects and share stories about John.

We were somber that day. We didn't know what to do. John was the first of our group who died. You could tell that all of us were taking stock in our lives at that moment. Looking at our spouses a little differently, looking at our kids a little differently. Setting up appointments about our health, about our retirements, about things that we never thought we would have to tackle at this part of life.

As you celebrate Father's Day, or any day please remember the stories of these two men. Remember that they would do anything for those that they love and that we can all do the same for those we love and for those we do not even know.

Movie Night and Drinking

2009-06-20T13:37:00.000-07:00

We went and saw a movie that I think should be included on every top whatever list, for those aged 25-55. The Hangover uses a triple-beam balance of humor, raunch and just plain wrong, but never does it manage to go over the edge. No tricks, no gimmicks, just one funny funny film. As always I started thinking about some of my hangovers and just how the world of drinking changes as you age.

In the early years of drinking, it was always about the effect, not the taste of the delivery system that seemed to matter most. We would covertly go into the famed "liquor cabinet" that seemed to reside in each house, and steal what we hoped would be enough to the job, but not so much that the old man (or woman) would notice the disappearance. We then worked this into whatever available mixer there was, usually Coke or 7-Up (depending on what you smuggled out) and voila, start drinking.

There was a slow evolution to the process. Those of us with older siblings, or with siblings who had friends who were older, would go into the world of asking them for a favor. This usually entailed getting enough money together from the group to also buy their beverage of choice as well. Growing up in California, the drink of choice for many was the 2 liter California Cooler. Its green bottle a symbol of foolhardiness and debauchery. The ladies tended to stay on this path of sweetened drinks, while the males grew their chops and the puberty induced hormones signaled them to have beer.

The problem with beer in the early days was we had no taste for it. We were still all about effect. We had a simple economic drive to buy mass quantities based on what cash was at hand. We were all about Natural Light (natches), Schaeffer (the one beer to have when you're going to have more than one), Keystone Light, Stroh's, and Lucky Lager (11 ounce bottles with the cryptogram puzzle on the bottle cap--kind of an early DUI warning system).

As we grew up the tastes changed and became more refined. We dabbled with cocktails, wine, brew pubs and the like. We started partaking in food pairings. We added points to our scale, wine fridges to our kitchens, and a liquor cabinet--just like the one mom and dad had (or still have) at home.

I stopped drinking quite awhile ago. I do not remember the last time I was drunk. When I drink I choose wisely based on time of year, food, company and situation. I don't condemn people who drink in the least, they have developed their own link in the chain and I respect that. I remember a number of occasions where drinking was something we did while at the party, but it was not the party itself. It was a bit of a training ground on social interaction that we all encounter on a regular basis as adults.

I cast no stones. I've been in all of the vast levels of stupor. I have friends who will vouch for it. Watching The Hangover made me think of a lot of those times and what came of them.

Birthday Dinner

2009-06-18T18:35:00.001-07:00

Each birthday I have celebrated with my wife I have always had to choose what I want to eat. The prodding starts a couple of weeks before the blessed event (June 19th) and it is always close to Father's Day. It seems like such a simple thing.

This year I actually came up with something other than "surprise me", which of course is the least favorite answer I could give. On the menu for this Saturday:

Santa Maria Tri-Tip

B-B-Qed Beans

Guacamole

Chips

Salsa

Chocolate Chip Cookies and Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream

All of this will be prepared by my wonderful spouse who really does enjoy setting the table and dressing it up so to speak. She loves to cook and bake, and as previously noted, not to clean. I'm looking forward to the dinner and family that will accompany all of this.

Tonight, before a fabulous dinner of pasta w/tomato, peas and pancetta, my wife dropped the dreaded secondary charge. "We want to take you OUT to dinner tomorrow night. You need to choose where." I like choosing what restaurant to eat at as much as I like dragging myself to work with a cold.

I love food. That is not the problem. In fact there are plenty of places that I can think to go to. The problem is always two-fold, the kids and the bill. Although my kids eat fairly well, their choice in food can usually be summed up as brown. Pasta no sauce. Chicken nuggets. Pizza. Occasionally a cheeseburger (plain nothing on it) and every once in awhile the actual theme of the restaurant we go to. The second issue is the bill. No way around it, even if it is a "gift" it is still going to come out of my pocket. As the bill payer in the house that means I see the total, tax and tip no matter what.

When I was growing up this was not the custom. I was greeted with a meal (always homemade) and usually a sheet cake. Once again, eight hungry mouths, you do what you can, when you can. When I got into the high school/college years birthdays usually revolved around a liquid consumption rather than what you actually ate. You would always remember what you ate later; it had a way of coming up, if you know what I mean.

My wife has always lived with this tradition of being able to go out and choose where to eat. It happened with me as soon as I became part of the family. It is an amazing feat to watch the birthday person announce their intentions to the rest of the crowd and watch for the winces, or shoulder hunching, or just out and out NO's (usually reserved only for my father-in-law and most often from my mother-in-law).

I've always thought about the food aspect and not the more important reason behind all of this. The meal is important from a gastronomic sense. We have seen the best meals (I remember going to Fleming's for my mother-in-law's birthday and having one of the kids puke on the table) and the worst (Hometown Buffet thanks to my son) cross our plates. What really makes the difference is not the meal, because if it were just that I'd ditch the kids and go somewhere really nice ($450 is not too much to pay for a meal and wine if done correctly). The idea is that it is just good to get together and celebrate around an occasion or a meal once every so often. I think that we forget that.

I think the fact that I cannot remember very many times when I did not sit down to dinner with my folks while living at home (and watching the local and national news, including the three weather forecasts) makes this such an oddity to me. I love the fact that my family eats together, not always what I want them to eat, but we get that celebration everyday of the week.

Cleaning Houses and Cats

2009-06-17T18:19:00.000-07:00

Today was cleaning day. Not the light, get the dirt of the surface stuff, but the deep cleaning that you never want to do.

Krista cannot stand cleaning. She loves the way it all looks in the end but she hates the process it takes to get there. I, on the other hand, actually enjoy cleaning. I think it comes from living in the not so clean environs of my youth. There were 8 of us in a little over 1200 square feet, with just one bathroom. The house was all about function not about clean.

I clean and organize when I get overwhelmed. Therapy says it is my way of controlling what I know I can't control. I like it when things are neat and crisp and clean. All those years in doctor's offices' looking at the homes on the outdated Better Homes and Gardens gave me home. I'm good at cleaning--period. If this is one of those things that gets your man-card revoked, I'll gladly hand mine over.

Today's cleaning was no different than any other I've performed over the years. Dusting, organizing, scrubbing, sweeping, mopping. I tell Krista to take pictures after we are done because as soon as the kids get home, all bets are off. We made good time on this one today. I think it was three hours start to finish. We missed somethings but that is always the case. My wife is one of those who gets to brag about her husband who cleans, does laundry and cooks. It is my badge of honor that I gained way back when we did our best to make that 1200 square feet look as good as possible.

It was also time to take the cats to the groomers. They are both long hairs, and both incredible shedders. As we cleaned we noticed that we were able to pick up an entire cats worth of fur off of the floor, couch and seats.

In the summer we get them a "lion cut". Imagine a big fluffy cat, fur everywhere, something much like a Yeti before going to the groomer. Coming out, same face, same tail, everything else in between shaved to the nubs. It is a hilarious sight. I can't explain it at all. We do it out of sympathy for the animals who have to endure the hardship of summer without air conditioning.

For some inexplicable reason home builders in "beach communities" decided that air conditioning was not required. There are about 10-20 days a year where I loathe the fact that I don't have the 747ish whirr outside my window of the condenser starting up to push out 48,000 BTU's of nothing but cold, dehumidified air. This is why we shave the cats. Of course it also cuts down on the amount of cleaning we have to do as well.

Gardening

2009-06-16T16:13:00.000-07:00

I couldn't understand my parents, especially my father's, fascination with being out in the garden as I was growing up. I thought of it as nothing more than another responsibility to keep things neat and clean in the neighborhood. I couldn't stand going out and trimming the Mulberry tree each year, or weeding the whole flipping backyard for my sister's wedding. I hated it.

When my father started growing orchids I really started to despise the plant life that surrounded the house. We had a large corner lot and it was my job, although I was paid for it, to mow a vast expanse of lawn (I used it as a mini pitch and putt when I was bored). But it was the orchids that really pissed me off. They started taking up the space on the side yard, covered in the intricate web of misters and shade cloth and slowly started to encroach on the rest of the outside. My father worked with those damn plants so much you might of thought that he enjoyed them more than the rest of the family.

I remember loosing the back porch as it became the poor-man's greenhouse. I remember when he finally found, and purchased, an actual greenhouse. I couldn't understand the mind-set. I did not see the beauty. I only saw the time and money that was "wasted" into something that was not me. I was forever pissed off that my parents hadn't made a better life for me. I felt entitled (to what I'm not sure) and I know that this came from the fact that I was the youngest and that my teenage years were spent in the house without a sibling (for the most part) and without much overt parental guidance. I felt that everything should be showered on me.

When I left for college, far away from home (340 miles-so not that far), I left all of that behind. I went to the big city and filled myself with the concrete and steel that make up the modern American metropolis. But what always caught my eyes was the beauty of the trees, the gardens that were tended to with precision and care. I understood that the garden was important to me however, I couldn't get over the idea of how gardening fit in to all of it.

When I first lived in Orange County, quite possibly one of the ugliest areas in all of the states, I couldn't help but notice the lack of trees, the conformity of the lawns, the conformity of the cinder block maze that lined every street. Moving away was both a shock and joy because getting to Sacramento forced me into becoming an adult. It made me realize how important having a garden was.

Sacramento has a majestic beauty about. Trees are everywhere. The city does not believe in "too many trees". The canopies eat the street and cool the temperature to tolerable amounts. I had my first garden here. It was a small rental house with an arbor and two wisterias that had gone out of control. I learned here that the garden was the product but that the gardening was the reflection.

Gardening is not about the effort, the work, the planning, it is about the peace that comes with working the soil, the time to realize that the beauty is more important then the sameness that life presents us with. I've ripped out both the back and front yards at this house. I did it by hand. The only power tool I ever used was a chain saw to take out a tree. I'm one of a small handful who doesn't have a swarm of mow and blow guys descend like hungry ants at the picnic on his house. It is mine. I made it. I learned about it. I learned from it. I understand dad, I understand.

Vacation 2009--Costco and other musings

2009-06-15T19:34:00.000-07:00

Today was the first "real" day of summer vacation. The kids are still in school so it is always easier to get a little something else done.

We cleaned up Krista's classroom. One of the kids had decided to write "fuck Dornbush" on four or five desks as their final act of defiance. It was some kid who had the student-teacher (the second part is very questionable) but could not handle the verbal judo that Krista doles out. The funniest part were the posts she got on Facebook to defend her honor and kick the kids ass.

Costco was disappointing. We bought the needs, not wants, which is always a bit of letdown. I always want to walk out of there with something that I absolutely have no business buying. Something that if I come home with it I know everyone in the family will just look at me like I finally snapped. The people watching quotient was kinda low today as well. Usually the first day of the coupons brings a good crowd but this morning it was mostly the early dinner crowd getting a couple of things each. And I really mean that. The lady in front of us had two bags of oats and a bag of almonds. I can't believe that her need was so great for those products that she had to get there early monday to make sure they were available. Others had whole baskets full of toilet paper. It is bizarre bordering on macabre as to what goes on at Costco.

Cal is incredibly bright. He started a study today and had a very adult conversation with Patrice. I don't think he understands all that goes on with what he has to say about things. Just think of how much different it would be if he was exposed to, or watched the news on a nightly basis. I love the fact that he pulled 11 books off the library shelves and that that will only last him a few days.

Kylie has it figured out. She is driven. She understands a lot about what she wants to do and what she doesn't want to do. I think she likes the idea of being a dentist. She told me she wants to be a lot of things. She will do what she wants I know that much for sure.

I'm getting new shoes tomorrow so I can get back into shape. I am way off target and it is really getting to me. I'm having trouble with all aspects of my health and it is all weight related. I know how I got here and I know how to get back. I'll stop kicking myself in the head and simply do something about it instead of complaining. Complaining is easy and doesn't solve a thing. Action is what gets the work done.

Start of Vacation 2009 #1

2009-06-14T14:28:00.000-07:00

This was the most growth I've ever encountered as a person. I learned just how much I don't like nasty people who believe that they should have their way at all times. I learned how much it matters to care about people and that in many cases the ones that care the most are the ones that have every reason to worry or complain about the conditions they are in. If we all cared about each other the way those who have nothing care about each other we might all see the world in a different light. I am glad that I took the time to try something new, to be in a leadership position, but in the end I did not want to try and solve the problems of everyone else. I am glad that I have found some peace when it comes to my professional life. I know what I am capable of and even more importantly what I am not capable of.

I've been looking forward to not being school. It is the first time in a few years that is not simply about time off but it is about rejuvenation and rebirth. I'm not sure how many times people can go through the reinvention of themselves, but I'm glad that I have on a professional level. I know what to expect from myself and to not expect anything from those around me.

Writing was something I planned on doing this summer. I've never sat and written just for writing sake. I always had to have the plan to write something--the great american novel--or something of that tragic cliched nature. I simply think that it is important to know what you have done today, to not dwell on yesterday, and to not plan too much about tomorrow. Too late for the cliches I guess.

I've read more books in the past two weeks (Waveland and The Road) then I have in the last year. I can't say enough about how it felt to be away from the world and so wrapped up in it at the same time. The two stories are so similar--men who would do whatever is needed to make sure that everything around them is safe. I can relate to that. I love my kids and want nothing more than their wildest dreams. This reading thing should be a habit I can keep up with for quite awhile. I have a list. I have some thoughts. I have some want and desire.

As I put myself together this summer I am going to get my mind and body connected again. I have been out of synch for quite sometime (almost a full year) and need to feel the rush of testoserone and adrenaline that comes with sweat and ache and muscle. I have not sought these things for any time at all but I feel that need to produce to add to want. It is interesting to feel the body drain through itself and prepare to rejoin the world.

I guess the point I need to make to myself is simple. Take this time and believe in your ability to become the best I am without trying to be anything to anyone else.