TIME

I'd forgotten about most of which I have written. I had no idea it has been 13 year since I posted. I have some older writings on my computer that were never intended to be public, but I will likely post some of them after doing a re-write. As I read my past posts, I wondered, did they matter to anyone? Did they inspire any thoughts, any course of action, any positive ideas? I need to figure out how to expand my followers. I think some of what I write might be entertaining to some. A few thoughts might be useful. Others might bring a glimmer of joy to someone. I have recently experienced a very difficult client. The most challenging I have had in my 46 year career. (How is that number possible???) I've not treated her well at times. She threatened a vacation of mine due to her delays. We've now been in front of the Chief Magistrate twice due to our failure to close out the Estate. When took on this matter I thought it would take 6 weeks, max, to close it out. Now its coming upon a year. In the end, I want to help her in some way. I'm sure she is lonely, unhappy, sad, likely depressed. I hope to find some way to make her feel better when this is over. Just getting it over the finish line, will be reward enough for me! You'll know when it is over.... I came back to write in my blog as I realized suddenly that I missed it. And after reviewing what I have written in the past, I realized it was a great outlet. I hope I have shared some feelings to which others can relate. I also came back because of the black cloud called Trump who is seeking to change our culture, change our economic balance (or more likely to increase the imbalance in favor of those who have already become much wealthier due to his last round of tax cuts). I could name about 20 things about his Executive Orders that are wreaking havoc upon the American spirit, decimating the celebration of our multi-cultural experience of the past number of decades, erasing some of the history of the accomplishments of women, minorities and the disabled, as well as increasing the stigma attached to the gay, lesbian and all other gender bending individuals who have finally had the courage to bring their ethos out in the open, resulting in a great acceptance of all who were previously hidden in the shadows of undeserved shame. In 1974 at the College of Wooster, I took a course that was called Modern Biology. There was a gay man in the class, Chuck. We each had to write a paper, the exact subject of which I cannot recall. But Chuck's paper is the only one I still remember. He wrote in part about going to New York and riding the subways, dressed in brightly colored garb that made obvious their sexual orientation. They spoke with affected speech style that was attributable to gay men. In his report, he indicated that all of it was intended to force people to recognize them, to accept their presence in Society. I was blown away by their courage and temerity. Growing up in a small mid-Western town, I had no real exposure so such individeuals. At least not to my knowledge. It was eye opening and allowed me to appreciate both their plight and their plan to overcome the prejudice. They didn't shrink from the prejudice, they confronted it. Basically, they bragged that they were gay and proud of it. Today, Trump wants to turn back the clock. Removing mementos of the past accomplishments and contributions of blacks, women, gays, lesbians, immigrants, and poor people. He seeks to revive the barriers to employment, to an education, to opportunities in the name of "avoiding giving them education, jobs and other opportunities they don't deserve," "while denying the jobs and opportunities to white men," who apparently are better at everything. But, I have faith and confidence that the disadvantaged will not allow this movement to take them down. That we will rise up and root out this rot. It is reminiscent of the McCarthy era. Then it was "communists." Now it appears it is the radical liberal left who is becoming the enemy of America. But this too will end. I have been asking for a decade, when will the child at the Parade yell out the obvious? "The King has no clothes." We still have a lot to be thankful for and we cannot let this "man" tear us apart and take away our love for each other. The protests will get bigger, they will get louder, particularly as the negatives of this administration adversely affects more of us, more of our family and more of our friends. Stay positive, get active, let your voice be heard. We shall overcome.

24 Hours

Life changes in a blink. Now, I have not truly experienced a blink in the past 24 hours, but I've lost another friend, two friends, truly. And our reservations for a house on Anna Maria Island, that I secured in December, went up in a puff of foreclosure smoke.

The last will take care of itself. Some solution will come of this mess. It's just a bother when I don't want to be bothered.

But losing two more friends is hard. I loved them both. Both fill me with great memories of my youth and fill me with want for old friendships.

This mostly about my childhood memories with Rick. But first I have to honor Richard Willis. Dick was a great man. A real man. He loved life and was a generous and friendly person. He was a great friend of my fathers and of mine. I spent a lot of time with the Willis family and it was a great experience for me. Dick loved fast boats and skiing. He'd take us all over the lake in his wooden Chris Craft boats. They were show pieces and always the fastest boats on the lake. He taught me about taking care of your stuff. He prided himself on things "lasting." I can hear him now telling me, "Yeah, its held up." But always it held up because he took good care of it.

I would hang out at their cottage a lot. I learned early on that getting a great meal from Gay or a ski behind his boat would cost me some labor. I always liked working with Dick and hearing his stories so I was glad to help him out. It never ended. On one of my last visits with Dick, he had me plant a bush by the side door in late fall. He could no longer do it himself.

Dick was a consumate story teller. He knew everyone and seemed to remember everything. Duke takes after him a lot. He always had a story about someone and they were all very entertaining. He was generous to a fault if you were fair with him. But he expected you to treat him right. If you didn't look out.

In the end, Dick was the most positive dying man one could imagine. As the news got worse, while I'm sure he had private moments of fear and despair, he never showed a moment of that to the outside world. He was positive and friendly to the very end. He was always glad to see me and asking about my family.

When he first told me his prostate cancer had returned, I felt like he was describing a cold and there was nothing to fret about. He made me feel like it was just another day in his life. When the news turned grimmer and he had to face some dire facts, he was still positive. He was positively beaming when he told me what a great life he had had. He had no regrets. He and Gay had lived a full and wonderful life together and he had four great kids. Their life had been filled with adventures and fun and lots of turmoil as well. But clearly he felt fulfilled and satisfied with a life well lived. God bless his soul and bless his family who he loved so fully. We've lost a good man, a real man.
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Rick Bienz was my childhood friend. As kids in grade school, we did everything together. Played in the creeks, hiked the woods, climbed the fence to sneak into the reservoir, fished, made wine, tried to smoke balsa wood, made gunpowder, hydrogen balloons, UFOs, broke shit, fixed nothing, and as we grew up we did all the things older friends did. Drank to excess, chased girls, drove fast and engaged in too many activities I really can't admit to. Most with less creativity and more thrill seeking than in our youth.

When my mom died, his mom was a huge influence over me. She made the best vegetable soup and chili. I ate there all the time it seemed. We were inseparable as kids. He lived a bike ride away. As I posted earlier, if you read McCammon's "Boys Life" you'll understand my life as a kid growing up in Washington C.H. with Rick Bienz. It was full of adventure and imagination, complete with a "Cat Lady" whose old house was filled with Cats and was once filled with politicians. She was reputed to be the lover of a President and was involved in the Tea Pot Dome scandal. (You'll have to look it up.) So we had great imaginary fears of that house and of her. I remember we finally got up the nerve to go to her house on Halloween one year, mostly becuase it was the scariest thing we could think to do. She turned out not to be scary at all. Of course.

We soaped lots of windows, threw eggs at cars passing by on Route 35, hung dummies from trees over the street and laid them by the road as if they were dead bodies. We made skate boards out of boards and skates, and go carts out of mower engines. We played Capture the Flag and other outdoor games with scores of people from around the county who somehow found my backyard as their summer playpen. More than a few young romances sprung up and a few fights over my sister.

I spent a lot of Christmas Days at the Bienz house. At our house, once we opened presents, Dad would often leave to check on patients. So I would go to Bienz's. They always had an open house. So Rick and I would go and break his new toys (and mine), watch TV, eat food, play pool and watch the adults talk and enjoy the wonder of the day and the company of each other. As an adult, we adopted that tradition in Cincinnati and had open houses at our house on Christmas Day.

We went to dirt track races with Bobby Moore, skiied and swam at Rocky Fork Lake, and always prided ourselves on being the first to ice skate in the winter. We always fell through the ice, but dammit, we were the first to get out on the ponds and skate on ice that litterally would roll under our weight. We played ice hockey on the ponds and skated down the creeks, dodging logs and sticks and falling through where there were weak spots. We played in the snowdrifts created in the ditch behind our house, burrowing through snow 10' deep, creating tunnels and rooms.

In Summer we played army and shot BB Guns in the ditch. It was "Combat." We'd shoot hornets when we found a hornets nest in the ground and usually would end up pouring gasoline on the nest and setting it on fire. We'd set up our army men in the sand box and pick them off one at a time. We'd play on the wood pile with the smoking trash can at the head of the pile and pretend it was a train engine, taking us who knows where. We'd climb all over the pile, jumping on and off and scrambling around like great adventurers. We'd build forts in the woods. Snow forts in the snow. We'd climb up into our tree house and have adventure after imaginary adventure. Robinson Crusoe all over again.

We'd fight all the time. In fifth grade we competed to see who got to be Bobby Grushon's boyfriend. Rick won. I don't know. She'd been my girlfriend since second grade. She obviously liked him better. We'd fight from time to time. Wrestle and smash each other's face into the ground. Then get up and be friends. I don't remember what the hell we fought for. I think it was like two dogs who fight for superiority. It was an even battle. We got in trouble on the playground. I think once we picked on Jay Simison. Maybe twice. I've always felt bad about that. We got into big trouble the one time. We called the Merit Boys the MooIts. Someone else started it, but Rick and I loved to get them mad at us. Once, I ran into a pole as I was chased by one of the Merits who was going to kick my scrawny little ass. It cost me five stitches.

We became good friends with Mr. Gwiazdowski. He lived across the street from me. He was our sixth grade teacher. He loved teaching and loved the guys. He knew his role at school. He taught us soccer, let us build a high jump pit, helped us build a hockey rink out of the parking area next to the school and convinced the other teachers to park further away in the worst of the winter weather. Rick and I would help him shave his head on his front porch. He loved hockey and took a bunch of us to a hockey game in Dayton. We had a friend that came from a big hockey family, the Shaltry's. Mike and Steve. Mike was our age, Steve was older. So they taught us all how to play, how to handle a stick. We ignored most of the rules. We all had figure skates. They had hockey skates.

Later we began boxing over at Haugens. As well as always playing pool. Rick had a bad shoulder. I had the longer arms. So I would keep hitting him in his shoulder until I could see he was flinching, then fake a punch to his shoulder and hit him square in the jaw. He hated me for that.

We had a party one night at Haugens. Barb and Vern were out of town. It was a good crowd. Rick was in the back room with some chick. Can't recall who. We thought we cleaned up well. Some friends who stopped by offered to take the trash and dump it for us. They did. Right in someone's yard. They looked in the bag, found some receipts and called the cops. The County Sheriff, who had no real jurisdiction over the location of the party, called Haugen in the next day. Haugen tried to deny he had a party. . . The Sheriff knew who Bienz was with in the bedroom. Haugen confessed. But all he demanded was that Marc apologize to the family that ended up with our trash.

Oh my! The memories do roll along.

As friends sometimes do, we grew apart. It's a shame. We were quite different in many ways as we got older. Those differences weren't so important. But we never lived close together again. And as happens in life, you settle in with new friends, new activities, kids come along and your life changes direction. But I will always love Rick and I think he always loved me. We had too much history to let us lose what we had. He was like a twin brother. But not identical by any means.

I imagine Rick is up in heaven right now telling some wild tales. Most probably aren't true, but the truth is, he has enough fantastic true stories that he doesn't need to exaggerate. He leaves behind a loving woman and a grieving family. I hope he and Gene are playing ping pong as I speak.

Where'd he go?

Good question. June 2010? My last post.... Time do fly. But I had lost it. Lost my positivity. Didn't feel like writing about positive things. When your household income drops by 2/3, and you have debts and bills, it's hard to be positive. The tunnel seems unending and dark and "the light at the end" must be around the next curve, 'cause there ain't no light visible.

But then, a glimmer appears. It's faint, you're not sure it's really there. Like a star in the sky that you can see in your peripheral vision, but then disappears when you look at it directly. But you believe it's there. You want to believe. You want to be positive.

In a new business, the glimmer dims and brightens; with it, sometimes, my enthusiasm for entrepeneurship. I've called it an emotional roller coaster, but that is inaccurate. I've yet to see any dizzying heights and the downward flight is rather muted, tame. It's more like a kiddie coaster. I want to get in line for the Beast. Bring on the Beast.

This summer I kept hearing about a drought in Texas and I kept thinking, "I know how they feel." It was a S L O W summer for business. I should have taken a vacation, but with neither income nor credit, that was impossible. Even the drives to the family cottage cost over $50 roundtrip, plus boat gas, oil, and miscelaneous costs. When you have insufficient income, $100 is a lot of money to spend in one weekend.

I've come to appreciate the value of a dollar. Three years ago, I thought little of spending $50 on something I wanted. Clothing, computer accessories, tools, toys, whatever. That has changed dramatically. Rarely is there an extra $50 to spend. When there is, I start to wonder which bill I have forgotten to pay. And then the autodialer starts ringing your phone and you stop wondering. The autodialers are mean, cold hearted, dialing bastards. They wear you down. Finally, you answer the call. Unless you make the representative happy, the calls will continue - even when you've explained the situation. Unless they get cash, the dialer cannot be abated. Only when it gets fed does it stop dialing. It doesn't care. It just wants to eat.

I am beginning to see the glimmer more often and it appears to be brighter. But I fear the next slowdown will come and, once again, I will question what I am doing. Whether I can provide for my family and resume the path to retirement. But strategies are emerging to protect us from the dips.

Life is truly an adventure. I have a wonderful family and a devoted wife. My dad is about to turn 92 and remains in good health and is active and bright. We've been blessed in many ways for many years. The drought will end, storms will come and the storms will pass; the clouds will part and something good will grow. We must be patient and remain positive. Good things happen when you keep good thoughts. Negativity leads you down a path of fear, remorse and missed opportunity. So smile today. Make someone else smile. Then consider all of your blessings and give not a thought to the hurdles you face, except to plan where to plant your foot.

Summer, or, "Drill Baby Drill"

Wow. I posted once about "marking time." I should have paid more attention to that when I wrote "Spring." Where did the time go? While it's not quite summer officially, it is clearly summer in the minds of anyone who goes to school, has kids in school or who pays attention to school. It's summer.

Spring blossomed early this year. A warm dry April gave way to a warm wet May which concluded with one of the hottest, sunniest Memorial Day weekends I can remember in a long time. It was in the 80's all weekend. And to think they moved the Nicklaus Memorial Golf Tournament to the following weekend, just because it was often too cold to play in comfort over Memorial Weekend. And Spring unfolded as I described. It always does. Most of the time we just don't pay attention and spend all our time in our urban jungles rather than out in the country where the woods transform from a translucent winter veil to a dense, thick opaque curtain which hides the many scars we humans inflict upon nature.

Here's a question. What good will come of the oil spill? I sit back and wonder why the youth of America isn't more outraged. Why we all aren't more outraged by this accident. And perhaps that's why. . . . I used the word "accident." We have been conditioned to use that word but it really wasn't an accident. If something is preventable and we let it happen, is that an "accident?" Perhaps at this point we all just want to see the flow shut off. Then we want to see how bad it will impact us individually. And then, if the personal impact is sufficiently severe, we will react. We will get mad. I hope I am wrong. I think I am. I pray we look at this disaster and quickly grasp the severe environmental consequences and the impact on us all. I pray we will take action, in some form, hopefully many forms, to make sure such a disaster doesn't happen again. Will this disaster temper our new found love of Nuclear Energy? Will it slow the "drill baby drill" mentality. Will it help us embrace and develop less risky energy alternatives such as geothermal and wind?

We don't need more fossil fuel. We need to act now. We need to take serious action. Politicians tend to take the easy road. The popular road. "Drill baby drill." Some thought this a simple solution to our dependence on foreign oil. How many times did we hear that chant. I cringed each time. How about "conserve baby conserve?" How about "wind turbines baby wind turbins" or we amend the "drill baby drill" into a reference to geothermal energy. Wouldn't it be safer to drill a mile deep hole to tap into geothermal resources?

Some scientists are now hoping for a hurricane. They think the storm surge might push the oil slick over the top of the fragile ecosystem in the lowlands of Louisiana and onto higher ground. Sounds ridiculous to me. I like better the farmers who want to use the huge abundance of straw and hay to soak up the oil. They make more sense than prognosticators who suggest that the inevitable hurricane will improve the situation.

Let's take a realistic look at our huge appetite for energy. At the very least, kids, can you turn off the lights?

Spring

As I step out of the house, the freshness of the air bombards my sense of smell. Something I haven't smelled in many months. My skin notices too. It feels the warmth of the morning's breath. As I stand on the porch and take a deep breath, I am relaxed, suddenly realizing what is most remarkable is my lack of physical reaction to the warm air. I am not bracing against the cold, that odd reaction we have, instinctively recoiling to hold in the warm air under our coats. Then, I notice. I am squinting. The Sun! Blessed sunshine. Vitamin D. Where have you been?

As I watched the summer turn to Fall, I recognized the finer stages of Fall. Sure, the leaves change colors and fall, but think about Winter. Everything in the Midwest is brown. Even the grass. But it doesn't happen all at once. For a while, after the leaves have fallen and the underbrush has died back, the grass is still green. It provides a last view of summer. A long goodbye.

So it's fitting that as Winter loses its grip, the grass is the first to respond. Brightening up our lives with color we haven't seen since November. Buds begin to form along branches. Crocus and narcissus and daffodils begin to poke through the faded mulch. The woodland underbrush begins to take on a slight shade of green. At first it's like a cloud in the woods. Just slightly visible over the brown. Almost overnight the buds fatten and pop open. Flowers begin to emerge amidst the branches. And spring explodes into a rhythm of color and a cacophany of birds newly returned from their southern sojourn. We all begin to feel better, more alive. And the promise of summer fun, bike rides, boating, swimming pools, golf, baseball, hiking, picnics and more, shines like a rainbow at the end of a summer storm.

White Stuff

As I slogged through the gritty grey snow that carpeted the roadway, snow falling madly about, piling up on anything and everything, including my head as I hurried into the office, I reflected on the change of heart I have had with winter. It's reflective of a transformation we must all fight throughout our "growing up." The lost innocence, the lost simplicity of enjoying the snowfall and all the fun it could bring if you just embraced it.

From my childhood, I have many enduring moments. Why some stand out so clearly, I will never know. I am not one who can recall all the moments from my past. I have friends from college and high school who I love to share reunions with because they never seem to forget any event we shared. They revel in stories I recall only as the tale unfolds, still forgetting details likely exaggerated by time and the gift of story telling.

Yet I have moments that stand out as clear as any in my memory. Some of these memories are obviously important events in my life, others are simply random moments that shine through the haze of age like lighthouses in a lifting fog. In one of those moments, I was on my bicycle. I was riding down Briar Avenue, which runs at a 90 degree angle from our house, like an arrow pointing to opportunities that lay somewhere "out there." As I rode down Briar, I must have been reflecting on some complication in an adult's life, some moment of madness or trauma, fear or loathing, anger or frustration. I just don't recall. But what I recall most vividly is my reflection on how simple life is. How easy it is to be happy. Life was beautiful. I don't know how old I was, I don't recall if it was before or after my mother's untimely and premature death. But I simply recall thinking, "Life is simple. Be happy." And in the wisdom of my youth, I knew that adult had lost their way somehow.

As I grew older and reflected on that moment, I observed how many adults, in the effort to be happy, simply make bad choices. They follow complicated paths pursuing happiness that could be theirs if they simply took the time to appreciate the blessings of their life. If they simply slowed down enough to see the beauty of their friends, their loved ones and the world around them.

The other night we went to see "How, How, Why, Why..." It's basically a monologue about the author/performer's life events and his personal reflection on the blessings of his life. He has included in his story path a lovely and entertaining, almost sassy, lady who sings and plays the accordian and guitar. She sings in a way that lets you hear the words of a song as if you are hearing them for the first time. I'm not sure how she does it. She was enthralling to me. But the bottom line for me was that here was a guy who had one very deformed arm and one perfectly good arm that he ruined in a motorcycle crash. Ironically, his useless, deformed arm became his very useful "good arm." He adapted. And as he poignantly reflected, his prayers had changed from asking God for things to thanking God for his blessings. And, as a result of that shift, he found many blessings in his world that he never would have found, but for the "blessing" of a motorcycle wreck that nearly killed him and ruined the one good arm he once enjoyed.

I've met a similar story once before. As I reflected to others on this experience, more than one person has suggested that the change in attitude, not God, brought the blessings into these lives. Perhaps. Perhaps not. But the answer is not so important as the fact.

Be thankful. Life can be simple and beautiful. Let it be.

Marking Time

Have you ever "marked time?" You do every day or week, but may not realize that's what you are doing. It came to me when I thought back to a moment of anticipation which moment concerned an event now past. And I recalled thinking how far off the event seemed at that moment of anticipation and yet, it was already over. Where had the time gone?


So the next time I sat contemplating a future event I just "couldn't wait to arrive," I "Marked Time." I consciously reflected on the time that would pass before the event anticipated. I reflected on the "present." Focused on it intently. How I felt, emotionally, physically. Observed the passage of an hour and how long that seemed to take. And then I let Nature and Father Time take their course, intending to Mark Time again as soon as I was conscious of the passage of time, as soon as I had a moment of reflection, maybe a day later, often a week or two later, now closer to the event. And at that moment, I again Mark Time, looking both backward to the last moment of Marked Time and forward to the anticipated event.

What always impresses me first is how quickly time seems to pass. I tend to focus a lot on the fact that the "present" which seemed so far in the future is here now. And the anticipated event is now so much closer. But mostly I tend to reflect on the passage of time. How I intended to reflect sooner on that passage, but events and life kept me from that moment of contemplation, allowing days to pass, sometimes weeks. In so doing I realize that impresses me most is not how quickly time passes, but how much time passes without our realizing it.

We informally and unconsciously mark time every week, sometimes every day. It's Thursday and we say, "I can't believe its Thursday already." Or it's 4:00 PM and we say, "I can't believe how late it is already." We mark the week on Monday morning and we mark the beginning of a work day when we leave for our jobs.


I sometimes simply mark time until tomorrow. As you contemplate tomorrow and what you will be doing, anything at all, Mark Time until that event. And as you sit at Dinner or you lie in bed the next evening, think back to the moment you marked time. How the present, which was the future is here upon you and your moment of Marked Time is in the past; only a memory of how you felt, what you were looking forward to, all of which has now rushed past you. And think how you were wholly unconscious of the passage of time for most of the time that passed...even though you were trying to pay attention. It's just odd to me to sit in the future, which has become the present and think about that moment in the past where you concentrated so hard on the present.

Of course, as you age, time travels faster. I suppose Einstein had a theory to explain this. Perhaps it is explained by relativity. That the closer you get to the end, the time remaining relative to your entire life span, grows shorter, making time seem to travel faster. Or more likely, it's just the opposite. When you are ten years old and time seems to crawl, a year is a 1/10th of your existence. When you are fifty, a year is but 1/50th of your existence. So from a relative standpoint, time seems to travel much faster.

If you ever contemplate this exercise, use it as a moment to focus on the reality that for many, tomorrow will not come. And for many of those many, that will come as a surprise. Life is full of surprises. So go out and live accordingly. Live as if this is your last day or week or month on earth. Live as if you have a short time left. Maximize your opportunities to love one another. Tell those around you how much you love and appreciate them. Give them the chance to tell you how much you are loved. And all will be the better for all.

What Do We Live For?

We live for what? Today? Tomorrow? Yesterday? Memories? Anticipation? Or for the incredible joys of life, the unexpected pleasures, the tiniest moments, such as discovering previously unknown water chimes: the sound of broken chunks of ice tinkling along the shore of a partially frozen lake on a beautiful sunny day in early January? Or the feel of a snow flake as it hits your nose and melts in the very second your eyes begin to focus on it as a flake and at the moment of focus is instead a droplet.

Do we live for ourselves or our parents, our children, the poor who need our support, the grieving who need our love, the loves of our lives who bring us joy, often in unexpected ways?

Do we live for the incredible beauty of the mountains, sunsets by the sea, the awesome power of waves crashing against the rocks, the incredible grandeur of our valleys and canyons, the beauty of a smile?

Do we live for the everyday beauty that surrounds us? The moments of unexpected kindness, the smallest joys that make us smile, the simple pleasures that warm our hearts?

Do we live for the rewards we reap when we give of ourselves? The hint of hope our gifts provide? The lift in spirit of those lacking fire? The glimmer of hope when darkness reigns supreme?

Do we live for the challenges, the fears overcome, the panic stopped, the triumph of hope over despair? The feeling of accomplishment, of pride, when we fall and fail and get up to try again? When we throw off our burdens, reject their hold and attain our goals?

There are so many blessings in life. These are but a tiniest fraction. Share some of yours with those you love.

Live for today. Plan for tomorrow. But don't plan on tomorrow for it may never come.

Believe

September 5. Says a lot about my state of mind. I've been focused on way too much negative thinking. Nothing positive comes out of negative thinking. That was when I last posted to this site. That's sad. But this is good. This is positive.

Someone recently sent me that piece about Abraham Lincoln. About how many times he failed at so many undertakings. And yet he persevered. What drove the man to the ultimate success? He undertook the toughest job in the world at the worst time ever. And managed to make the right calls to save our nation. And it's clear he had plenty of self doubt. So what led him be so successful? I'll let you know. I suspect many of you have answers. Go ahead. Edify us.

As I contemplated all that is good in my life, I realized that my immediate challenge is a minor step off the path. Only time will tell if I've made a misstep or if the hill I must climb is simply bigger than what I contemplated. But with a loving family behind me, an understanding wife, and a great bunch of friends, how can I not succeed? It's impossible not to, with all this going for me.


So Merry Christmas! The many promises of the season for new life, incomprehensible grace and love will carry the day. And a New Year, a new decade dawn before us. Rise up to the challenge, refuse to fail, and keep on moving forward. Believe and it shall happen.

Red Rubber Ball

Does anyone other than me remember this song?

Until today, I had no idea what it was really about. I rarely listened to lyrics. It's the melody that captures me. Particularly when I was a youngster. I heard catch phrases, refrains, but never the complexity of the song. Never the real depth of the words. Red Rubber Ball is just such a song. I love the song. It takes me back to being 13 years old, with nothing better to do all summer but hang at the pool and play cards. I used to play lots of War and Gin Rummy and 500. But finally, I learned to play Euchre and never turned back. I played Euchre all summer, every day, many hours.

That's where I meant to start this Blog. The power of Song. It can take you instantly back to a moment in life, it can transport you to an era. It can evoke emotions, rekindle love, trigger deep sadness. It's almost as powerful as Scent. Sometimes, it is more powerful.

The beauty of Song is that you can use it yourself to go whenever you want to go. Not whereever, Whenever. For example, I think of Stairway to Heaven, hum a few chords and I am dancing at the Fairgrounds to the music of SMD (Suck My Dick - I'm not kidding), the local garage band. They used to practice in the garage down the street on Briar Avenue. Or some of the harder Led Zeppelin takes me back to the parking lot of our highschool, where before school started, or after it was over, we'd crank up someone's 8 track player or cassette player and play Led Zeppelin as loud as possible or Allman Brothers or the Blues. Or better, the sound of David Bowie transports me to college. Instantly. I'm there. Or the same for Spirit (Who?), who my Freshman roommate loved, Edgar Winter, Doobie Brothers, Chicago, Pink Floyd and many others. Or the Temptations. the Four Tops and Santana and the Detroit Motown acts take me back to Senior year of highschool. We drove to South Carolina where I promptly got my front teeth knocked out after wearing braces for four years. But we rocked all the way down there to the sounds of Motown on Marc's 8 Track player as we sped along at 80-90 MPH. Especially Santana. "You've got to change your evil ways, Baby. I come home and the pots are cold." How cruel is that?

And today, forming new memories. It's interesting, I seem to have a major gap where music played little in my life. No great memories, no real standouts that transport me. Until the past year or two. Why is that? Perhaps because I've started to take more walks, I now own two MP3 players and use them to work out, drive and walk. So I've begun to search for music. As I listen music gets tied to memories. Jacqui Naylor is one of my recent favorites. So I'll likely remember her songs for the period when I was laid off and working out lots. I listened to her a lot while working out and really enjoy her sound. "Celebrate Early and Often", "City by the Bay", "Ain't No Sunshine When He's Gone." All remakes, I think, but she makes them very cool.

So perhaps MP3 has revived my memory stream. Hopefully, it will create a new set of memories to transport me back when I'm 70 or 80 or 90. Not sure I want to be 100. So if I'm ever in a coma, PLEASE, Rock my world. And add a little Jacqui Naylor so I can recall a few more recent memories as well. Be sure to play Crazy by Aerosmith too. I love that song. Talk about memories....

Stop, Drop and Roll

Stop reading this entry now. I have nothing to say.


















You dropped, we roll....

You can't live life well with a grudge. Without forgiveness. Without setting aside the little wrongs and the big wrongs. You can't live life well judging others. The more you judge others, the more you judge yourself and we never like ourselves very much. So, if I'm right, judging others makes us more unhappy. And I am always right. Well, sometimes, I am always right.

I had someone tell me once, "I can forgive, but I never forget." Huh? Just what does that mean? I think it means she doesn't really forgive.

I am blessed with a poor memory. With a few exceptions that my close friends know all about, I can't remember anything bad someone has done to me. Nothing that I want to act upon or vent about. But I know people that never forget, and who periodically like to remind the offender of their past sin. Their heads must be filled with bad thoughts and ill will toward a plethora of people. Thankfully, mine doesn't have room for all of that nonsense and neither should yours. Find some way to dump all of that baggage, shove it out the window and let it fall into a deep abyss, never to be seen again. And even the ones I remember, I no longer care about. They are just good stories from my past (or boring stories that I like to tell).

So stop throwing stones, or one will rebound off that glass wall and hit you in the head. Start finding positive things to think about other people. Find positive things to say about them to others. Begin to look for praise you can lay on your associate or neighbor or friend. Find 5 people this week who you will praise in front of someone else. Make it a habit.




When I started this entry, I really had nothing to say. A vague notion, perhaps, but nothing of substance. I hope something came of it. If nothing else, maybe you'll remember to remind your kids to Stop, Drop and Roll if their clothing catches on fire and it will save a life....

SS

Golf's Big Lessons

Golf, like life, is not a fair game. Just when you think you have it made, adversity strikes. If you keep your composure, maintain your positive thinking, good things will turn your game around.

In recent years, I found that concentration and a relaxed swing were the two most important keys to a good result. A relaxed swing depends upon you feeling comfortable with your swing, having confidence. Confidence comes from practice. Practice is a repeated pattern of trying and failing and trying some more until you become more successful by learning from your mistakes and changing how you swing the club. Mistakes are a critical aspect of success. If you don't try, you'll never succeed. As Tom Watson recently remarked, quoting the immortal Bobby Jones, "You learn from defeat, not victory."

Golf is largely a mental game. What amateur player doesn't struggle mightily after spending time with a professional who "corrects" their swing? Perhaps mechanically, you have a better swing, but it just doesn't feel quite right. So you have two choices. Believe in the professional's guidance or go back to what never worked quite well enough all your golfing life. Many will go back to their old swing because it is more comfortable. The results are predictable.

Yet, like life, we can make a better choice. We can pay attention to the good advice and do the things that are uncomfortable, the things we need to do to be successful in our "game." We need to take more bad swings to learn to make good swings. And eventually the new swing will become comfortable and familiar and will deliver better results.

Recently, at age 55, I opened my own law practice. I'm scared to death of failure. I have felt anxieties that I haven't experienced for years. But I feel positive nonetheless. I will make a lot of mistakes. I have made a few already. For two weeks, I have fallen into the very trap my counselor told me to be wary of. I have resolved to practice the uncomfortable swing he taught me; to fail repeatedly until I get my swing right. In the end, the results will be postive.

Your Personal Legend

Right now repeat after me: "I am responsible for my own circumstances." If you don't believe that, then start some serious reading, thinking and studying about life. If you are not happy, it's your own damn fault. And I am looking in a mirror as I write these words to all of you (all three of you, I think).

Here is a great thought from George Bernard Shaw. (I'd love to find out he's related, but I doubt it's true.) "People are always blaming their circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them." And thus I begin my effort to start a private practice of law and mediation.

There are fears all of us face. None of us are alone in these fears, although we all assume that "successful people" don't have these fears. Baloney. Successful people have simply faced their fears and proceeded in spite of those fears. They use proper planning and discipline to overcome those fears.

Fear of rejection. This usually emanates out of our self doubt. We doubt ourselves and assume others will likewise judge us. We look into their eyes and see our own self-condemnation. This is pitiful and unfair to ourselves. So next time you face a challenge and the obstacle that rears itself is a fear of being rejected, of having your ideas or your role in an organization rejected, ask yourself, "What would I do if I weren't afraid of that rejection." Eliminate, on a hyptothetical basis, your fear of rejection. Look at what lies ahead if you are successful and imagine, instead that success. Then plunge ahead before that negative fear creeps back into your mind.

Fear of failure. How many times did I not try a lawsuit because I feared or my client feared or my opponent feared failure? I would say that every time a case settles it's because someone fears failure. Often times, it's a rational, calculated assessment of risk that makes the decision appropriate. It's not really the fear that dictates the action, it's risk assessment. But if that decision is based instead upon my fear that I may fail to do something or I may do something wrong in trial, then my fear of failure has improperly influenced my decision. I have allowed fear of failure to dictate the action I take. It's a rational response to an irrational fear. Again, imagine the hypothetical situation. Imagine that you have no risk of loss. Imagine that you have no risk of failure, what action would you take? Then, calculate in, on a rational basis, the risk of loss the real risk of failure and see if, on balance, the risk is worth taking.

Failure is never all bad and often it serves us better, in the long run, than success. In the first case I lost, I learned more than I learned in all the cases I ever won and certainly lots more than the thousands more I settled. So that one "failure" was one of the best things that ever happened to me. It made me a much better lawyer. Think of all the young athletes you knew who were good at an early age because of natural talent, who were eclipsed in later years by kids who had less physical talent. The latter kids worked harder because of their failures and overcame their weaknesses. They used failure to motivate themselves to be better and in the end, triumphed.

There are many fears. I won't belabor my point. Fear of success, fear of pain, fear of crowds, snakes, heights, etc. Which ever of these most influences your life, work on it. Accept it for what it is. Imagine that the feared outcome can't happen and ask yourself how you would act if that fear did not exist.

Talk to a friend outloud. Write down your thoughts and re-read them later. When you talk outloud to a third party, when you write down your thoughts and re-read them, you will challenge your thinking. You will begin to see that the fear has no logical basis for dictating your decision.

I like Paul Coehlo's writing. He wrote The Alchemist and The Fifth Mountain among other books. The former is a wonderful story of a man who pursues his "personal legend." At one point in the story the man has the chance to abandon his ultimate goal and instead lead a comfortable life. But he chooses to pursue his goal. His analysis is prescious. He recognized that he might be happy for a year, but after a year he would always wonder, "what if?" And he would never be truly happy. So he risked all the short term benefits and immediate gain to pursue his dream, knowing that it was more important to have tried to reach his goal, than to abandon the goal and always wonder about his choice.

To go on such a journey, you have to have faith in yourself and faith in your "personal legend." Why are you here on earth? What do you want to accomplish? You have to be able to visualize what it is you want, where you want to be, and keep that vision clearly in focus in all that you do. Do not let the distractions of day to day life divert you from that vision. You have to have faith that you are here for a reason. The reason is not what most of us strive for. It is not to become rich and have lots of possessions. It is not to have a great job and have power and influence. Rather, you need to assess, deep down inside of you what goal in life is truly important to you. Then visualize that as your reality and begin to plan what steps you need to take in your life, what changes you need to make to reach that lofty goal. And don't let another person, financial pressure or your fears take away your goals. Keep dreaming, believe in yourself and most of all believe in your "personal legend." Believe that you have a special purpose in life and that a steady and determined march toward that goal will bring you happiness and fulfillment.

Good luck and Godspeed!

Faith

Life is amazing. Perhaps its God that's amazing. I haven't figured that out yet. But I'm working on that.

I have a propensity to mull on things way too much. No, mull is not the right word. Ruminate. It can be endless. If I get something in my mind, I will examine it 1000 different ways, many just minor variants from the others.

So recently, as part of a discussion I was involved in, we agreed to pray to the Holy Spirit. None of us had regularly prayed to the Holy Spirit and had no idea what to expect. So we agreed to report back in a week.

I had no level of expectation and a great deal of skepticism to temper my faith in this exercise. But I was willing to try. And I've had my share of issues to talk to the Holy Spirit about. Especially one that I've ruminated upon way too much.

That first night, I woke up about 2:00 AM. My mind went into overdrive. Worrying, thinking, wondering, projecting risks into the future. Very worthless activity. But I couldn't stop. So I began to pray. I prayed to the Holy Spirit for 15 minutes. Stopped and listened. Heard nothing. Felt nothing. Wait. I felt nothing. No sense of anxiety. No sense of emptiness. No sense that I was walking on the edge and might easily slip into an abyss of the unknown. Soon, I fell asleep. At peace and no longer driven to turn things over in my head repeatedly.

The next day, I talked to a friend about a personal conflict that I had been worrying about. My friend said a few simple words that totally turned my head around. The conflict had been minimized and reversed with the simplest of thoughts on the matter.

So now I wonder. What was the source of his inspiration? How did I come to peace in such a short period of time when I had been ruminating on this subject for several weeks; maybe months. The simple answer is prayer. Faith. Belief. But I wasn't a true believer and I didn't have complete faith, yet some kind of peace came over me when least expected.

My wife keeps telling me that I must quit worrying about the future so much. That if I believe good things will happen, then they will happen. And when bad things happen to me, I tend to take them too personally. I tend to take on the role of the victim and feel sorry for myself. But, as I met with my mens group and we discussed among us the results of our prayers to the Holy Ghost, I began to mull my attitude. I began to see quite clearly that I needed to be positive and have faith in the future. Have belief that I will find that which I want. And a very positive wave of faith came over me. So let's wait and see what happens.

I know God doesn't answer every prayer the way we want. I know God doesn't work on the timeline we set out for ourselves. So patience is the key; faith the linchpin that holds our lives together. It may not be a faith in God. But still it's faith. So whether you believe in God or not, you must have faith. Faith in yourself, faith in your family, faith in your friends. While any of them might let you down, don't take it personally. And when you are weak, just as you need to forgive others, you must forgive yourself. We all are weak. We all have our failures. But believe in your friends and family and believe in yourself. And believe in your faith. Have faith. Then see how your life turns around. If prayer helps you or positive thinking helps you. Report in here. Our radios are tuned in.

Grace

Grace. What a beautiful word. Even Princess Grace, as beautiful and wonderful as she was, cannot fulfill the vision of this word. In religion it signifies the undeserved Grace of God, Who forgives us of our sins, regardless of how deserving, or not, we are to receive that forgiveness. But we have to ask and ask with true remorse and true regret in our hearts.

Grace, however, has a more tangible meaning to me. It is a word that sums up all that is good, or can be good, in a human being. It is the person who always makes you feel better about yourself. A Norman Vincent Peale in the flesh kind of person. It is that person, who regardless of their challenges in life, always put themselves second (or third, as the case may be) and who always looks out for the needs and wants and desires of others. Grace describes that person who is so beautiful on the inside that you never even consider whether she is beautiful on the outside because outer beauty is insignificant compared to inner beauty. And my friends will tell you, in my case, that must be one wonderful woman.

Grace is that state of being where one possesses no negative thoughts; no criticism of others, no racial prejudice, no sense of being a victim, no feelings of weakness, trouble or dis-harmony. Grace is a special place in the heart. It is a place, where regardless of creed, regardless of looks, regardless of religion, regardless of any external influence, one accepts you for what you are and makes you feel welcome, treasured, important and significant in their life and in the lives of others. It is a gift many of us wish we had, and of which few share, a gift which exemplifies that true sense of grace, of undeserved non-judgmental love and respect.

So what does it mean to you?

We don't stop playing...

Some quotes I like.

We don't stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing. - George Bernard Shaw

Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So, throw off the bowlines> Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. - Mark Twain

Work like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt and dance like no one is watching. - Satchel Paige

Success is a journey, not a destination. - Ben Sweetland

Feel the fear and do it anyway. - Susan Jeffers

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as if everything is. - Albert Einstein

Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all. - Helen Keller

We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give. - Winston Churchhill

Be the change you want to see in the world. - Mahatma Gandhi

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. - Confuscious

Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off of your goal. - Henry Ford

Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Happiness is a choice. - Barry Neil Kaufman

They can because they think they can. - Virgil

Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable. - Sydney Harris

Many of lifes failures are people who who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up. - Thomas Edison

Blessed are they who can laugh at themselves for they will never cease to be amused.

A pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty. - Sir Winston Churchhill

The most wasted of all days is one without laughter. - e. e. cummings

People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. - Maya Angelou

Treat people as if they are what they ought to be, and you will help them become what they are capable of becoming. - Goethe

The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires. - William Ward

How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives. - Annie Dillard

Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference. - Churchhill

We judge ourselves by what we feel we are capable of doing while others judge us by what we have already done. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Education is not filling a bucket, but lighting a fire. - William Yeats

We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm. and adventures. There is no end to the adventures we can have if only we seek them with our eyes wide open. - Jawaharlal Nehru

Silver Linings

Sometimes the world seems to be a dark, dim place. It's those dark moments that highlight the beauty of our lives. When something does not go the way we hope or plan it might go, while disappointed, we must look for the positive that surely will follow. So if your world seems a bit dim, if dark clouds seem to be dominating your life, know that something grand will come of your troubles, something unexpected. And suddenly you will understand the blessings you've been given.

I'm still unemployed. That bums me out. But I believe that something better than I had will come along. It may take longer than I want. It may be different than I imagine, but I believe it will come. Positive thinking is the only way to make it happen.

We recently had a contract for the sale of our house. The purchasers backed out. I have no idea why. At first I was extremely angry. Their inconsiderate and apparently ill thought out offer, resulted in our house being taken off the market for a week. We had two other people actively interested and one actively bidding to buy the house. We had three people interested in seeing the property at that time. All prospects have moved on to other properties. So I could sit here and be bitter and angry, but those negative thoughts and emotions won't get my house sold. So its time I let go of my anger and focus on the positive opportunity to get a higher offer for our house. Or, perhaps, it isn't out destiny to sell our house right now. We can live with that. Perhaps keeping our house will be the best thing that can happen to us. One never knows. But positive thinking will lead us in the best direction possible.

So if you are feeling down, do something positive to help yourself feel better. Do something to help someone else. Find an uplifting book to read. Get some serious exercise. Try yoga. Be active and seek others who are positive influences in your life and talk about it with them. Don't be afraid to admit you are depressed. That's often the first step in dealing with the solution. Talk about it and if it's affecting your life in a negative way, get professional help. It's an illness and treatment makes it better.

Personally, a good dose of Sun and Sand and Ocean and Children, are remarkable in improving my mood. We've enjoyed seeing Leslie and our other two children join Kim and I tomorrow for four days. It will be the first time in many years that we have all been together for a vacation in Florida. We can't wait to get together with their Grandpa Shaw and Jennifer to enjoy a visit before those two snowbirds fly back to Ohio. So as I sit on the deck and see the sun and the ocean, my mood brightens. The grandeur of the seascape makes the darkness in my life recede. And as it does, I appreciate all the more the glorious beauty that has been created for my enjoyment. Keep smiling! It's infectious.

Kindness of Strangers

I have on my desk a check. I knew it was worthless when I accepted it. Had I had a moment to contemplate my reaction to the presentation of the check, I would have told the lady to put it back in her purse as I did not want to be paid back. I would have urged her to pay my small act of kindness forward. I never intended to cash the check anyway.


She was stopped on one of the busier ramps in Cincinnati off I-71, less than a mile from our home. Her car sat off to the side, with the hood up. She looked frazzled and a bit bedraggled as she waved me over. I dutifully pulled over, ready to commit an act of kindness. She tells me her story. Her car has died and she has called a tow truck and she needs an additional $28.00 to pay for the tow. So I give her $30.00. She asks me to wait a moment. After briefly entering her car, she emerges and returns to my car, thrusting a check through the window. She tells me she has added $5.00 since I was so nice to her and she wants to pay me back. I thank her and tell her I don't want her check, but she insists. So I drive off.


I must confess that had she not given me a check, I'd have driven home and not thought about it any more. But that act made me suspicious of her. So I turned around after driving a few blocks and drove back past the exit ramp. Her car was still there and she was in her car. So I felt like maybe she was telling me the truth. And maybe she was. But the next day, when I went to the bank, I cashed several checks and asked the teller to check to see if her check was good. "No," I was told, "the account is open, but it has been dormant and empty for so long that the sytems is going to close it after the next statement is run. Apparently, she noted, the account address is not accurate as her statements are being returned.


I refuse to believe she was a bad woman. I envisioned her with young children she needed to feed or clothe. So I actually feel badly that I did not insist that she keep the check. How much sleep did she lose, thinking I might report her to the police for giving me a check she knew was not good. I wish so badly that I could have saved her that worry. Then, my kindness might have felt good and whole.


I'm intrigued by the Starbucks "pay it forward" phenomenon. Apparently, every so often, someone in line pays for the coffee of the person behind them. That act then gets passed backward for long periods of time. Who starts these things...and who ends them?


One of John Maxwell's main principles is that giving to others makes you a better person. It's not magic. It's simple. Such activity makes you feel better about yourself. When you feel better about yourself, you treat others better and they treat you better. And the cycle continues. My theory on doing good and its' influence on the world is best illustrated by the rings created by dropping something into water. The ring of waves spreads quickly from the center. Depending on the size of the object, the waves are bigger or smaller and last longer or fade more quickly. But the illustration is lacking. Sometimes, a person who is touched by the wave of kindness is moved to toss a larger gift into the pool of good deeds. And this sets off a larger wave. So I envision, instead, a sort of Rube Goldberg device that is triggered by a wave of kindness and which somehow triggers new waves which repeat the process endlessly. Positive Waves are a perpetual motion machine.


When have you experienced the kindness of a stranger or shown kindness that may have made a difference in someone's life? Have you heard any stories of small acts of kindness that pay large dividends? Does an unexpected smile make a difference in your day? Can you make a difference in someone's day?

Report back next week. Take the challenge. Do something kind for someone and see if it triggers a smile, a sense of good will, a new good deed. It may take longer to see the results. But I believe, regardless of whether you see the results, that goodness breeds goodness. A smile breeds more smiles. Send out a ring of good will this weekend.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rube_Goldberg

Scents

Spring blossoms with hope and promise. Summer is approaching, the threat of snow is all but gone (at least in Southern Ohio), and the hopes of a New Year that were delivered in January begin to brighten.


And so it is as I skip and hop through spring. And I give thanks for the power of scents.


I pass a flowering bush and a scent hits me with a rush of memories that have long faded, but lie behind a mysterious veil that shrouds my memory banks. That smell of a particular flowering bush instantly propels me back to my days at the College of Wooster, as these bushes grew just outside my door in the Freshman dorm and elsewhere across the campus. Suddenly, I am 21, full of life and energy and seething in raw hormones that create an interesting persona of invincibility, drive and craziness. The power of scent is undeniable.

Too, there are a couple of perfumes that instantly provoke an emotional longing, a sense of lost promise, lost love and a rush of faded photos which I cannot quite make out as they flash through my head. I'm not sure who I associate with which scent, but clearly someone I dated, someone to whom I had a strong emotional attachment once wore that fragrance. Unfortunately, as the fragrance has gotten more and more dated, I have this experience less often. But I love that raw emotional reaction to a simple smell. That longing I've almost forgotten.


The smell of the ocean gives rise to such a complex of reactions it is impossible to sort them all out. My wife and kids and I have vacationed on the ocean for many years. Sometimes as a family on an adventure to Nantucket, or driving through Maine and experiencing such wonders as fairy houses set amidst a deeply wooded island path, a fantasy my children will never forget. Or other trips with best friends, with young children and, later, with teens, who loved the ocean; the wonders of a walk on a beach at night with flashlights, catching crabs, experiencing the sudden jolt of a crab leg striking one's leg in the mysterious inky black of the ocean, finding oneself amidst a veritable school of rays as they forage for food in the shallows by the shore, afraid to move lest a sting might result or a ray might be injured.

Many vacations as a child rush through my head as we explored Florida before it became so overbuilt and crowded. A small cottage on Crystal River, with a spring at the end of the dock, spewing water so clear you could see into the blackness of the hole, 10 feet below the surface, as if it existed at the bottom of your bathtub. I can recall diving down to the hole, feeling the cold rush of water as it emerged, fearful of going into that black darkness, not knowing what might lurk within. Watching from the dock as "Sea Cows," as we called them back then (Manatees), lazily swam past, truly looking like graceful cows floating through the depths of the clear, cool river waters. And I swear to goodness, we always wore flip flops and for some reason at that house or in that place, I always stubbed my big toe. I think I must have done that 15 times in my life and I can't remember my children ever stubbing their toe like that. It would lay open a flap of skin across the width of the big toe and hurt like heck the whole vacation. It seemed to happen every year.


Weeki Watchi, Cyprus Gardens, Parrot Jungle, all left enduring memories from my childhood, as we visited the unusual, the exciting and the natural habitats of Florida and the odd commercial attractions that often grew out of the beauty of nature.


And then the fateful trip as a high school graduate with my best friend, Marc Haugen. My Dad told me I couldn't go. I went anyway. We drove to Myrtle Beach at high speed. Testing the limits of his parent's car, listening to 8 Track tapes of the Temptations, Santana, Leonard Skynard, Clapton, Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendricks.


Marc was a lady's man at a very young age. I was a nerd. I'd worn braces all four years of high school. I got them off days before we left for Myrtle Beach! I wish I had access to my senior picture to prove just how nerdy I was. But I hung with the cool guys and I was a little bit of a charming nerd, so I had potential.

We soon met a group of southern girls from Winston Salem, NC. They were the nicest, most beautiful girls I had ever met. Their accents flowed like honey. Lightly tanned, blonde and perfect, they seemed. The week was looking full of promise. Marc quickly became known as "Lance Romance" but one of the girls must have liked his style because they quickly hooked up. We drank "Green Goddamn" and "Purple Passion" and wished like heck we hadn't the next day.


The second day, as I was starting to lay a foundation of hope with one of the girls, Marc and I went to the beach and joined some of the boys from Winston Salem in a game of touch football. At that time in my life, I thought I had the best hands in the world. If I could touch it, I would catch it. I went out for a long pass across the middle. The ball went up in a long, high arch. I took my bead on the ball, changed my angle and knew that nothing would keep me from catching that damn ball. Nothing. But I hadn't calculated in one possibility. That a defender from the opposite side of the field would take the same bead on the same ball at the same speed and leap to catch that ball at the same time, with ball, me and defender all reaching the same point in space in the same moment. In that moment, I experienced a painful reminder of many lessons I had just learned that past year in physics. Mostly that a body in motion tends to stay in motion unless another force acts upon it. Our two bodies acted upon each other in a gruesome, show of force.


I guess he must have outjumped me because my front teeth struck his lower jaw, right at the left side of his face. They sliced his lip, through and through to the bottom of his chin. I don't know how many stitches he required. I don't think he remained for the rest of the week. I got the worst of it though. My perfectly matched, perfectly spaced teeth, resulting from those four years of wearing braces had been re-arranged. My right two incisors were now facing backward, pointing at my epiglottis. The rest of my mouth was numb from the impact. One of my new found friends came up and said, "Let me see your teeth." At that moment I felt fine, but knew I was bleeding. When I showed him, he turned away in disgust and fear. The look on his face told me more than I wanted to know. It was bad.


First we drove to the hospital. The funniest person I have ever met rode with us. I have no idea what his name was. If he didn't become a famous comedian, there is no justice in this world. We laughed our asses off as we drove over there, in spite of my condition. After we waited the obligatory hour, the hospital sent us to an emergency dentist. He took me in, did x-rays and came back with the bad news. I had broken five upper teeth, the two right incisors, were completely broken through (duh!) and the upper bone out of which they grew was broken in three places. He wanted to pull the two lopsided teeth (and give them to me as souvenirs, I guess). So I did the first intelligent thing I had done in 18 years. I asked, "Is there any chance that I could keep those teeth and not need them pulled out?" When he said there was a chance, I quickly told him, "Then you ain't pulling them out." They are still in my head. But on the trip back home, my comedic friend did an hilarious impression of the dentist as an evil bad guy who wished to steal my teeth and collect a big fee from a stupid 18 year old. It was like Boris Karloff was in the car with us.


I left his office with all my teeth. He had pushed the two broken teeth into the best position he could manage and then wired everything together and applied some kind of material that hardened into "tooth cast." My love life was doomed. All those visions of soft kisses, pleasant hugs and who knew what else, were left in the bloody sand of Myrtle Beach.


All these memories are triggered by the scent of the ocean air, plus quite a few more of which I should not speak; mostly those that spring from college forays to the beaches of Daytona, FL.


So share with us the scents that trigger your memories and some of the experiences you might have had as a child or as an adult. Or how scents may trigger something inside of you.


Steve

Kelly's Heros

This 1970 film was one of my earliest introductions to the concept of Positive Waves. Oddball, played by Donald Sutherland, was a consummate hippy turned tank commander. He constantly talked about the need for positive waves and tried to keep everyone focused on having a postive mindset. Two examples:

Oddball: Why don't you knock it off with them negative waves? Why don't you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don't you say something righteous and hopeful for a change?
Moriarty: Crap!

and then

Oddball : Crazy! I mean like so many positive waves maybe we can't lose! You're on!

He knew "The Secret."

So I try to keep focused on the positive, envision the best outcome and believe that it will come to pass. And while one never gets everything one wants, I have been blessed with several great jobs, many wonderful friends and family; a great life in general, and have every reason to believe it will continue.

But my search to ensure a happy 25 years going forward continues. There will be detours, there have been detours. But my initial plan is to give more to others. I think one can get more joy, more reward and greater happiness by focusing on the happiness of others, by givine more than one receives and turning our inward focus to an outward reach. This will require a lot of work on my part. For I am very self centered. But I know it is a big step I need to take to attain true happiness when I am 75.