Goodbye 2004, Hello 2005

Dona nobis pacem

What can we do?

The images coming from Asia are horrific... The mounting body count is incomprehensible... I want to write something significant if for no other reason than to express my grief. To provide some rationale explanation... There are no words. There is only a scientific explanation... Only ponderings...

What can I do? Pray for the victims. Pray for the survivors. Pray for the relief workers.

How odd that this disaster would occur during a season when our culture is caught up in commercialism, gift giving, buying, excessive consumption of food, drink, etc.

What can we do? Pray for the victims. Pray for the survivors. Pray for the relief workers.

The poorest of us, are wealthy by the standards of most of the world. Let's sacrifice our Starbucks fix for a month...

Here are links to two organizations that are exceptionally effective with relief efforts.

https://secure.umcom.org/giving/default.asp?causeID=9522

http://www.kintera.org/site/pp.asp?c=fvKVLbMVIwG&b=277370&lid=tsunami_donate&lpos=main1btn

One hot night..

Three years ago on this date we had a chimney fire at our home. It was really quite benign. The neighbors came over pounding on our door and screaming that the house was on fire. It wasn’t. It was just a normal night by the fireplace for us. But since the neighbors were hysterical we thought we should join in the fun and evacuate the house. The fire department arrived quickly but by the time they got here, the fire had died down, and whatever might have been burning in the chimney had been consumed. Everybody realized that it was a minor chimney fire that had already dissipated, but the FD had to do their job and inspect our roof and attic. One of the firemen crawled up into our attic to inspect the chimney from above the ceiling… He missed a rafter.

We still have a hole in the ceiling of our garage. I really should fix it someday. But it makes a great conversation piece.

Perspective

It’s been really snowy and cold for the last several days. The news is full of stories of people who were stranded through the holidays, or had to turn around and cancel their holiday travel plans. People are cursing the weather, the airlines, the road cleaning crews, etc., etc.

Our family was affected by the weather too. We were also affected by my wife’s work schedule, which was ultimately affected by my change of jobs two years ago. It’s funny how everything is interconnected.

Normally, we celebrate Christmas on Christmas Day like everyone else. But because of Robin’s schedule, we celebrated on Christmas Eve day, which left Christmas Day feeling pretty much like any other Saturday. The exception of course was that the rest of the world was celebrating Christmas on Christmas Day. So, that meant our children made plans to spend time with their significant others’ families. Knowing this was going to be the case, I planned on sleeping in, cleaning the house, and settling down with a new book until dinner time when all would return home.

The weather was bitter cold and two days of snowfall combined with freezing rain left my daughters’ new pick-up truck frozen solid in the driveway. She had planned to be at her boyfriends’ home for breakfast by 9am. So we got up early to dig out and thaw out the truck. The truck and the weather did not cooperate. It was well below zero and the truck was not thawing.

Sensing that she was beginning to fret over being late for breakfast, I suggested that Stefanie could take my car and we would move the truck into the garage.

It was Christmas morning. The house was quiet. I thought about how unfortunate we were to have our traditions changed by something as trivial as my wife’s work schedule. I was irritated and frustrated at the circumstances that created this situation. I was about to throw one hell of a pity party.Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by a ringing cell phone. It was Stefanie…” I’m OK, the car is OK, but I slid, and it’s in a ditch.” After determining that she was in fact OK, I put on my coat and boots and jumped into the still frozen truck and headed for the scene of the accident. “Merry Christmas.”

There were car parts scattered down the road for about 50 feet. My car was well off the road and real stuck. Stefanie was standing beside it in tears. I evaluated the situation; the car was damaged, but drive-able once it would be removed from the ditch. More importantly aside from her emotional state, Stef was fine. I looked at the marks in the road, and the path the car had taken. I saw the road sign, the mailbox, and the utility pole she could have hit. I thought about the oncoming traffic she could have collided with. I thought about the fact that if she had been in her truck, it would have turned over. I thought about what a lousy Christmas it could have been. Then I thanked the newborn Christ child for Stefanie.

Life boils down to perspective.

Footnote: Today, over 12,000 people perished in Asia as the result of a 9.0 earthquake. What misfortunes did we contend with?

In the midst of contemporary celebration...let's not forget..

God was really out to prove something this time.

He wasn’t merely parting seas, flooding the earth, sending plagues… this time he pulled out all the stops; a virgin birth, a birth in a barn, kings traveling from far away places, special stars in the sky… It would be years before Hollywood could even come close.

And what was to come after? Now that was the showstopper. Take a young rising star, put him to a shameful death. Then raise him from the dead a few days later. All for what?

For the salvation of all.

Merry Christmas.

The Circle

My uncle Paul was a war hero. He was never recognized in that fashion by the world, but I know he was a war hero. He was a part of the greatest generation. He helped save the world during WWII. He was a fun loving man, a devoted father, brother, husband, son, uncle and friend to many. He died too young, probably from injuries and illnesses he received during the war.

He was Santa Claus when I was a child. I didn’t know it then, but when I became a teen-ager I found out that he was Santa Claus. The last time he was Santa, I was ten years old. I remember that Christmas, specifically because that was the year my parents gave me a slot-car set. I don’t know why he stopped playing Santa. I know he didn’t always feel very well. Perhaps he merely wanted to pass the torch. My memories are becoming too foggy about these things.

What got me thinking about this, is that when my son was 10, I gave him a slot-car set for Christmas. That year, my Aunt-Ann asked me to play Santa at our family’s traditional Christmas Eve celebration at her house. I have been Santa for 10 years now.

Once again, on Christmas Eve around 10pm, my cousin Laura will herd all the kids to the basement family room of Aunt-Ann’s home. Her brother and her husband will escort me to the second floor bedroom and help me change into my Santa suit. When I am ready and all the kids are out of the living room, I will go downstairs and out to the porch where I will wait until the kids are escorted back up to the living room.

It amazes me that the kids never question why they are being moved from floor to floor. But it is Christmas, and they are anxious to please, so they go. When they are all seated in the living room, someone will suggest singing a Christmas Carol. As this happens, I stand on the porch and listen through the walls. Sometimes I peek through the window to watch my family. When I do, I see generations of love. I see tradition. When I get the signal from my cousin, I knock on the door and yell; “HO, HO, HO”. Then I make my grand entrance.

All the kids even the older ones sit on Santa’s lap and receive a small gift. Some of the adults sit on Santa’s lap. I am continually astounded by the fact that the kids can’t figure out who Santa is. Even my own children didn’t know until they were told. Maybe they choose not to know.

My Mom always sits on Santa’s lap. He wishes her a happy birthday (She was born at 5pm on Christmas Day). She doesn’t see it, but Santa’s eyes are wet.

When all of “the kids” have visited Santa we all sing another Christmas Carol then Santa exits through the front door wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.

And that is it. My favorite and the fastest 30 minutes of the year. Before I leave the porch, I look back through the window in the door…Though I hope I can play Santa for many more years, I know I will ultimately give it up to the next generation. I also know that whoever becomes Santa, will look back through the window and see the same things that I see; parents,brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins, children, grandparents, and a war hero.

15 minutes of fame...

I heard a Christmas song on the radio yesterday being performed by Bruce Springsteen. It triggered a memory I have of appearing on stage with him several years ago. Are you surprised to know that I was on stage with “The Boss”?

He was doing one of his big stadium shows at the old Cleveland Stadium. I was the local manager for the Ticketron office in Ohio, and was backstage at the producers request doing counterfeit ticket control. Just before it was time for the concert to begin, I wandered out on the stage to see how the “house” looked. As I walked out on stage, the crowd seeing someone coming out on stage started cheering. I thought; “You idiots, do I look like Bruce Springsteen?” Well, I didn’t, but the guy behind me… with the guitar and the sweatband? He looked exactly like Springsteen. I turned around to see "The Boss" entering the stage. I quickly headed for stage left. As we passed each other on the stage he looked bewildered and said, “Who are you? I replied, “ You don’t know?”. I left the stage, he started the show.

He got paid a lot more for that appearance than I did.

And now, the news...

Yesterday's sudden and ample snowfall has brought out the worst in many of the city's residents.
Posted by Hello

The sky is falling...

Well, winter has arrived. Along with it have come the doom & gloom, alarmist TV weather forecasts. Come on guys, it’s snow, not nuclear fallout.
Just remember, as you watch this stuff… it’s not about truth, it’s about ratings.

Limited Vocabulary

I don't think I even heard the word until I was in the 7th grade. We hear it today in the movies, read it in books, see it scrawled on walls, hear it in music, hear it in the hallways of schools, factories, board rooms, offices...everywhere!

The "F" word is being used like a grammatical requirement. I just don't get it. Are we so under-educated, so "vocabularily challenged", that we can't come up with a better way of expressing ourselves?

I've met some people that without this "word", they couldn't speak. For the rest of society, that would be a blessing.

I challenge everyone reading this, to eliminate the word from their vocabulary. If you can do it for 30 days, it will be gone.

In all fairness, there haas been a few times in history where it was appropriate. Here is the complete list:

"What the @#$% was that?" -Mayor Of Hiroshima, 1945

"Where did all those @#$%ing Indians come from?" -Custer, 1877

"Any @#$%ing idiot could understand that." -Einstein, 1938

"It does so @#$%ing look like her!" -Picasso, 1926

"How the @#$% did you work that out?" -Pythagoras, 126 BC

"You want WHAT on the @#$%ing ceiling?" -Michelangelo, 1566

"Where the @#$% are we?" -Amelia Earhart, 1937

"Scattered @#$%ing showers.... my ass!" -Noah, 4314 BC

"Aw c'mon. Who the @#$% is going to find out?" -Bill Clinton, 1999

"Geez, I didn't think they'd get this @%#*^ing mad." -Osama bin Laden,
November, 2001

and most recently...

"@#$%-ing Ohio" - John Kerry, 2004

Now, just "f-ing" stop it.

Walter, the permanent house guest

I realized that my posts have been a little melancholy lately, so I thought it was time to lighten things up.

This is the story of Walter. Walter resides in my home office...

We were on a family trip to West Palm. I thought it would be fun to take my son on a deep-sea fishing charter. My wife decided the whole family should go. So, I rented a boat and a captain for a 7am to Noon adventure. We boarded the boat, bought the bait, and by 7:10am we were on our way down the channel. Our oldest, Melissa was sitting on the bow of the boat singing Broadway show tunes. Our youngest daughter; Stefanie was sitting starboard side, smiling from ear to ear. Our son Tim, was next to me, and my wife (Robin) was leaning over the edge of the boat watching the waves go past.

As we left the channel, the water got a little choppier, Melissa was still singing show tunes, Stef had stopped smiling, Tim was staring straight ahead, and Robin was puking over the edge. The Captain stopped the boat, and baited our hooks and within 5 minutes, I had hooked a 35” barracuda. A few minutes later, we hooked a 40” barracuda. Melissa brought that one in (she named it Walter ) then went back to singing. Stefanie was throwing up all over the deck and Robin was still “feeding” the rest of the ocean, when Tim brought in a 39 incher. The captain was busy washing the deck down with chlorine bleach. It was now 7:45am.

A few minutes later, the captain told me he had been informed by radio that the sailfish were hitting about 1 mile away. He asked if I wanted to take a shot at them. I looked at my wife who was now as green as an artichoke. I looked at Stefanie who was “on empty” but still heaving. I looked at Tim, who was working hard not to be sick any more. The Captain looked at Melissa and asked; “Is she going to sing like that all day?” I said, let’s head back to the marina.

We arrived at the marina at 8:15am. Stefanie fell to the ground and kissed the boardwalk. Tim, wobbled off to a park bench, Robin layed down on the ground. Melissa was still singing the opening number from “Annie”.

I tipped the captain $100. Paid $600 to have Melissa’s catch mounted (it was the biggest), paid the balance of the charter; (another $600), and we all went back to our beachfront condo and slept for the next 8 hours.
“Walter” resides on the wall in my office.

Imagine

To The Greatest Generation...Thank You

December 7, 1941

Happy Birthday Melissa...love, Dad

We arrived home around midnight and after a quick snack, went to bed.

Around 3am Robin woke me up and said we needed to get to the hospital. We threw her pre-packed suitcase into the car and drove quickly to Southwest Hospital. After a very short wait, she was taken to surgery. I sat in the waiting room. There was a movie on the TV. It was in black and white. All I remember of it was that there was a police car driving endlessly on a mountain road with its single light flashing and its siren wailing. It seemed like that was the entire movie. I still don’t know what movie it was.

I should have been nervous but I don’t think I was. I should have been more concerned about the future, but I wasn’t.

After what seemed like several hours of watching the police car winding through the mountains, a nurse appeared in the doorway. She was pushing a small glass crib. She said; “Would you like to meet your daughter?” I knelt beside the crib and looked into the wide eyes of a newborn. The nurse told me to talk to her, “she knows who you are”. I stood up to see her through the open top of the crib rather than through the glass sides. Her big blue eyes followed me… In that instant, my life was changed forever.

All that happened yesterday; December 6, 1980.

In Memory

The first time I met Kim was in 1989 at a rehearsal for an opera production in Cleveland. We shared the same brand of humor, so we hit it off immediately. We would stand backstage and fire off jokes about everything happening around us. She had a magnificent soprano voice and was obviously musically educated but more importantly extremely gifted. Over the next few years we performed together five or six times.

She was a local teacher instructing voice and choir. By a twist of fate, she had all three of my children in her classes and choirs. She was dedicated beyond expectation, giving up personal time to accompany her students to state competition and helping them prepare for those competitions. She encouraged her kids to do more than they thought they could. She also expected perfection. Sometimes the kids didn’t appreciate that expectation, but they grew because of it.

I saw her for the last time in June of 2004 when she sang at “Walk For Life”. She was determined. She was hopelessly in love with her husband Rick, and she was a dedicated and loving mother to her two children. We reminisced for a few minutes and we talked about the future. She asked about each of my three kids and told me what she loved about each of them. She asked me to pass along her well wishes to each of them. She asked about my wife and asked me to pass along her greetings to her as well.

As we both had other places to be, we too soon parted company. As we said goodbye, we hugged. It was a long hug. One where you knew that when you let go there would never be another…

Kim lost her battle with breast cancer in late October of 2004. She fought the disease valiantly. She fought it with the same dedication and intensity that she instilled in her students to be the best that they could be. She fought it with every intent to win. Ultimately however, the disease took her from her world. She left behind her husband, two children, brothers, parents, friends, and hundreds of kids whose lives were forever changed because she cared for them.

I sat in the church wondering why someone with so much to share was taken so young. There was no answer...The choir made up of her former and current students began to sing. She lived on in each of them, and she will forever.

http://www.thebreastcancersite.com

Life in a bubble is not living

There are communities that require kids riding bikes to wear helmets. I guess it is a good idea, but on the other hand, I think we are protecting and litigating ourselves into a boring, sterile, out of shape, no imagination existence. Kids need to get hurt doing something fun and adventurous. Likewise so do adults. We were not put on this planet to be protected. We are here to live, experience, thrive, have fun, and sometimes get hurt.

Spam?

Ok, I am looking for help on this one.

How did unwanted email become known as SPAM? I have never received any of the canned meat without paying for it. What is the connection?