I know that few of you really care about how much I weigh (stop reading now if weight does not interest you) but as someone that has faced this challenge for many years, a significant milestone has been reached and another one is close at hand. I write this not only to celebrate my successes but also to inspire others who brave the weight loss game. But first, a history, to gain perspective...
After years of high school football I was roughly 200-205 lbs with a semester of school left. After a coaching change made my baseball situation tenuous I decided to try shot-put and discuss on the Track and Field Team. It was then that I first learned how much I enjoyed running. A track coach somehow saw potential in a chubby lineman and helped me loose 30 lbs that spring and made me marginally competitive in the 1/2 mile to 2 mile distance races. At 170 lbs my mom actually asked me if I was battling anorexia!?!
Three years and a mission later I had drifted up to 220 lbs but was able to drop that back down to 195 over the next year before my wedding day. That is when it fell apart. I gained 45 lbs the first year and steadily climbed to 275 lbs sometime around 1999-2000. With the babysitting of a friend's daughter I was inspired to work out on a regular basis for the first time since before my marriage and the pounds dropped. I soon found myself at 228 when disaster struck, my babysitter moved! Then started the oscillations, 265-->235-->260-->240-->260-->235-->255 alll in the span of 5.5 years. But I was never able to get back down to the 228 of that first cycle.
That is until now. I am currently at 223. Still not as low as I would like to be but finally broken through a barrier that had been quite significant before. What has been different this time? No one thing I would say. Seeing loved ones fighting the health effects associated with excess weight, having the potential of being lighter than my twin for the first time since childbirth, reintroducing the competitive element with the running of a road race in Atlanta, and many other reasons. I draw strength from whatever moves me that day! Most days it is just a desire to be better for my wife and children.
From here? Nothing is certain. At 220, only 3 lbs away, my BMI will drop below 30 and I will officially no longer carry the title of "obese" but will still be "overweight". I'll take that with pride. 6 months ago 220 had been my goal, now as I start a new year I find myself setting a new one. Any number starting with the number 1 seems unfathomable so I will probably draw the line at 200 and reassess if and when I get close. With any luck (and a bit of hard work) I will be close to that when we journey west for our vacation in July. Only time (and the scale) will tell.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Family Pictures
As you can see, we have updated our family picture this month. It is actually the first one we have had with little Liesie in it as we missed last year's picture. This is also the first time that we had to have kids standing behind us and the first time we had to go landscape to fit us all in. As we feared the worst with a baby posing we were surprised to discover that she was the best behaved. Just about everyone else had at least one picture that was tossed on their behalf. Not Liesie Lu as she had a perfect smile in every picture (even if her hair was a mess).
I think this is only the second picture since our wedding pictures that is professionally done and is just Jamie and me. She says I look young in this picture but she has been saying that a lot since I shaved. (The verdict is still out on that, I seem to be running roughly 50/50 in my goatee feedback with one vote from my sister in law for a chin beard) In fairness to her you need to understand that the bluish tint to these pictures make her highlights a lot more silver than they are in person...
Hope you enjoy the pictures...
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Hair or no Hair, that is the question...
Okay, this weekend I did something I haven't done in over 7 years, I shaved my entire face. As I have been loosing weight I have been teasing my wife that I no longer needed the goatee to elongate my face. She has been telling me no. On Sunday I called her bluff (not advisable btw). She says that she is "still getting used to it" when I pushed for an opinion but followed that up with "I prefer you with a goatee".
To that end I decided what better way to solicit comments than to ask for a vote. Here are two recent pictures, one before and one from this morning. The shaved one is a bit out of focus but if you read two blogs down you will understand why I couldn't hold the camera steady at an arms length...
So tell me, with or without?
To that end I decided what better way to solicit comments than to ask for a vote. Here are two recent pictures, one before and one from this morning. The shaved one is a bit out of focus but if you read two blogs down you will understand why I couldn't hold the camera steady at an arms length...
So tell me, with or without?
Funny things kids do
If you haven't noticed, I'm on vacation and finally have some free time to type. I just thought I would share something silly each of my kids has done in recent weeks that made me laugh. Maybe I shouldn't have laughed at some of them, but I did none the less.
Caleb was asked to sing a Solo in church as part of the primary program. We had practiced it quite a bit with him and knew that if he came in on beat and pitch he would nail it. Then a funny thing happened that was not his fault. The fill in pianist (the original got sick on performance day) started to play the wrong song! Brave little Caleb tried to fit "I Know my Father Lives" into the notes that pianist was playing, but it just wasn't working, it was bad. I didn't know if I should laugh, cry, run to his rescue, or just hide my head. The primary president caught the mistake and corrected the pianist. By this point however, Caleb was so flustered that he didn't know where he was. It wasn't until about halfway through the first verse that the two found a common timing and it was early in the second verse when Caleb finally found the right key. I was so proud of his stick to it attitude. By the end he was belting it out perfectly and everyone there commended him for his patience and lovely singing. I wasn't laughing at the time but I can laugh about it now!
The kids Grandmother sent them some books recently. Michaela found the 300 page Book of Amazing Facts and proceeded to read the entire thing over a 2 day period. The next morning as I awoke her from her sleep she rolled over, rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes, and before so much as a yawn or a "good morning dad" she blurted out quite matter of factly, "Did you know that when the dinosaurs were on the earth there were only two continents?" I don't want to know what her dream had been about!
This morning I found my youngest in the hall holding a butterfly net. She was hitting the floor where about half a dozen ants had stumbled across a frosted flake. The best part though was that while she was merrily whacking away, she was singing along "Da Da Da Daaaaa Daaaaaaaa, Da Da Da Daaaaaaaaaa Daaa, Da Da Da Daaaaaaaaaaaa Daaa, Da Da Da Daaaaaaaa..." For the untrained hummer, that is the Star Wars theme. I don't know if ants are part of the Rebel Alliance or the Empire but they were suffering a little light saber justice!
The funniest moment of all came last night from my little Josh Josh. Around 10pm we heard him crying upstairs. From experience we knew that that generally meant he has to go potty and is having problems. I ran upstairs unprepared for what I found. He had indeed woken up needing to use the restroom but some other factors had conspired against him. He was wearing a pair of jammies for the first time that snapped at the waist and had not figured out how to unsnap them. But worst of all, his left foot was asleep and he couldn't walk on it. In his groggy state this was too much for him to process simultaneously. I found him in the middle of his dark room, eyes closed, one hand pinching off the flow, the other hand pulling on his pajama bottoms, and hopping in circles on his one good foot. Unfortunately my laughter was not very consoling and he was mad at me despite the fact that I rescued him and carried him to the toilet...
Caleb was asked to sing a Solo in church as part of the primary program. We had practiced it quite a bit with him and knew that if he came in on beat and pitch he would nail it. Then a funny thing happened that was not his fault. The fill in pianist (the original got sick on performance day) started to play the wrong song! Brave little Caleb tried to fit "I Know my Father Lives" into the notes that pianist was playing, but it just wasn't working, it was bad. I didn't know if I should laugh, cry, run to his rescue, or just hide my head. The primary president caught the mistake and corrected the pianist. By this point however, Caleb was so flustered that he didn't know where he was. It wasn't until about halfway through the first verse that the two found a common timing and it was early in the second verse when Caleb finally found the right key. I was so proud of his stick to it attitude. By the end he was belting it out perfectly and everyone there commended him for his patience and lovely singing. I wasn't laughing at the time but I can laugh about it now!
The kids Grandmother sent them some books recently. Michaela found the 300 page Book of Amazing Facts and proceeded to read the entire thing over a 2 day period. The next morning as I awoke her from her sleep she rolled over, rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes, and before so much as a yawn or a "good morning dad" she blurted out quite matter of factly, "Did you know that when the dinosaurs were on the earth there were only two continents?" I don't want to know what her dream had been about!
This morning I found my youngest in the hall holding a butterfly net. She was hitting the floor where about half a dozen ants had stumbled across a frosted flake. The best part though was that while she was merrily whacking away, she was singing along "Da Da Da Daaaaa Daaaaaaaa, Da Da Da Daaaaaaaaaa Daaa, Da Da Da Daaaaaaaaaaaa Daaa, Da Da Da Daaaaaaaa..." For the untrained hummer, that is the Star Wars theme. I don't know if ants are part of the Rebel Alliance or the Empire but they were suffering a little light saber justice!
The funniest moment of all came last night from my little Josh Josh. Around 10pm we heard him crying upstairs. From experience we knew that that generally meant he has to go potty and is having problems. I ran upstairs unprepared for what I found. He had indeed woken up needing to use the restroom but some other factors had conspired against him. He was wearing a pair of jammies for the first time that snapped at the waist and had not figured out how to unsnap them. But worst of all, his left foot was asleep and he couldn't walk on it. In his groggy state this was too much for him to process simultaneously. I found him in the middle of his dark room, eyes closed, one hand pinching off the flow, the other hand pulling on his pajama bottoms, and hopping in circles on his one good foot. Unfortunately my laughter was not very consoling and he was mad at me despite the fact that I rescued him and carried him to the toilet...
The Price of Stupidity and Pride
I have not hid the fact that I find joy in running and it is my preferred exercise in my efforts to loose weight. While traveling I try to work out (go for a run) each night I am on the road. It is a luxury that I cannot afford here at home due to the many other duties, responsibilities, and distractions I have here. Now given the choice I would have those "distractions" over travel any day!
I have been running well of late and last week in Louisiana I actually ran a 27:10 5K, cutting 2:35 off of my race time I blogged about previously. Following that run I was feeling particularly strong, superhuman, and generally just proud of myself. It is funny how fast those humbling moments come after you have allowed yourself to let the pride in...
A co-worker wanted to stay at the gym a little longer and asked if I wanted to lift some weights with him. With a thump of the chest I eagerly dove right in. Now that I explained my mind set, let me also set the picture. My co-worker is 6 years my Sr., 100 lbs my Jr., but he also lifts almost daily. I have also not lifted weights on a regular basis in over 15 years. Seeing as our legs had been exercised with the run, we decided to work out our upper bodies.
Note to self, aerobic success does not directly translate to anaerobic strength. Note to anyone reading this just because your lifting buddy can do 3 reps of 8 on every weight machine in the place does not mean you should do the same PARTICULARLY if you are unwilling to move the pin because you think you will loose face to an older, smaller individual!
5 days have passed since that stupidity. I am probably 80% recovered. The pain is gone but the tight and worthless arms remain. For days I could not raise my hands to my neckline without letting out a blood curdling cry. I almost asked my wife to shampoo my hair, putting on my tie for church was torture, and holding up the music to sing with our ward choir truly required divine intervention!
From now on, I will stick to what I enjoy. Who cares if the fat is gone off of my legs while my gut and arms still suffer from Jello syndrome, in time that will rectify itself. Get your laughs in now, because you know, in person, I can catch you, even if my arms are too weak to do anything about it when I do!
I have been running well of late and last week in Louisiana I actually ran a 27:10 5K, cutting 2:35 off of my race time I blogged about previously. Following that run I was feeling particularly strong, superhuman, and generally just proud of myself. It is funny how fast those humbling moments come after you have allowed yourself to let the pride in...
A co-worker wanted to stay at the gym a little longer and asked if I wanted to lift some weights with him. With a thump of the chest I eagerly dove right in. Now that I explained my mind set, let me also set the picture. My co-worker is 6 years my Sr., 100 lbs my Jr., but he also lifts almost daily. I have also not lifted weights on a regular basis in over 15 years. Seeing as our legs had been exercised with the run, we decided to work out our upper bodies.
Note to self, aerobic success does not directly translate to anaerobic strength. Note to anyone reading this just because your lifting buddy can do 3 reps of 8 on every weight machine in the place does not mean you should do the same PARTICULARLY if you are unwilling to move the pin because you think you will loose face to an older, smaller individual!
5 days have passed since that stupidity. I am probably 80% recovered. The pain is gone but the tight and worthless arms remain. For days I could not raise my hands to my neckline without letting out a blood curdling cry. I almost asked my wife to shampoo my hair, putting on my tie for church was torture, and holding up the music to sing with our ward choir truly required divine intervention!
From now on, I will stick to what I enjoy. Who cares if the fat is gone off of my legs while my gut and arms still suffer from Jello syndrome, in time that will rectify itself. Get your laughs in now, because you know, in person, I can catch you, even if my arms are too weak to do anything about it when I do!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
It was Involuntary Pigslaughter your Honor
First thing first, as you read this post, do not think me cold hearted to make light of the events of last night. This is the only way I know to share my guilt.
As I put my daughters to bed last night I decided to check on our pet Guinea Pig, Foddy. (If you wonder about the odd name, lets just say that 4 year olds come up with some odd names if the power is left solely to them.) My daughter has done a very good job feeding and checking her water for the last two and a half years since Foddy joined our family. My role has always been to change her cage and just to double check that she has water. As I approached her cage my mind noted, as it had the previous night, that it was odd that her cage hadn't started to stink as much as normal. I had cleaned it early last week and normally it would be starting to smell by now.
As I lifted the lid I saw her laying on her side. My first reaction was, "wow, I've never seen her sleep before" but even before that thought was completed my epiphny struck and I let out an "Uh-oh". As soon as it came out of my mouth, I tried to pull it back. From my daughter's bed I heard, "what's uh-oh dad, is something wrong with Foddy?" Not knowing what to do I grabbed the cage and told her to go to sleep.
Upon investigating it became clear she was not just sick and had in fact been dead for quite some time. There was very little "waste" in the bedding, only a little of the food was gone and it didn't look like she had drank anything... She was cold and stiff. Rather than put off the inevitable, we wrapped her in a towel and took her back to my daughter to tell her. Our first attempt to explain went amiss when we just said that Foddy had "gotten sick". My little girl replied with "What can we do to help her? Take her to the animal doctor?" When we tried to regroup and delayed in our answer, she was perseptive enough to ask "Is she dead?"
We then told our sons what had happened. They took consolation in knowing that Foddy would now be able to play with Twinkle Toes, our pet ferret that died in the spring. Then I was taken quite off guard as both of my older two wanted to know what pet we would get next and started to explain to us what we needed for a fish tank. To see a six year old, with read eyes, still gulping air recovering after crying, explain that you need "a glass tank, some pretty rocks, or sand, and some fake plants, and water, and ..." I didn't know to laugh or cry!
We put them to bed and went back downstairs to the cage. Then I made the discovery that ripped my heart in two. The ball in her water bottle was jammed up the tube and wouldn't dispense any water! With one squeeze I freed it and water dripped into the corner of the cage. She had dug almost every scrap of bedding out of that corner of the cage and her head was laying under the water bottle when I found her. Indeed, when I cleaned her cage, and refilled her water bottle, I sealed her fate. Both my wife and I had checked on the water bottle throughout the week but both of us assumed the other had topped it off for her, not questioning why it was staying full. To add to the guilt, one of my first thoughts had been "great! no more cages to clean".
To echo a theme from the McBlunder post a few back, please don't tell my daughter what I did to her Foddy. With all this parental guilt she is going to make out just fine, she can have a whole school of fish if she plays her cards right!
As I put my daughters to bed last night I decided to check on our pet Guinea Pig, Foddy. (If you wonder about the odd name, lets just say that 4 year olds come up with some odd names if the power is left solely to them.) My daughter has done a very good job feeding and checking her water for the last two and a half years since Foddy joined our family. My role has always been to change her cage and just to double check that she has water. As I approached her cage my mind noted, as it had the previous night, that it was odd that her cage hadn't started to stink as much as normal. I had cleaned it early last week and normally it would be starting to smell by now.
As I lifted the lid I saw her laying on her side. My first reaction was, "wow, I've never seen her sleep before" but even before that thought was completed my epiphny struck and I let out an "Uh-oh". As soon as it came out of my mouth, I tried to pull it back. From my daughter's bed I heard, "what's uh-oh dad, is something wrong with Foddy?" Not knowing what to do I grabbed the cage and told her to go to sleep.
Upon investigating it became clear she was not just sick and had in fact been dead for quite some time. There was very little "waste" in the bedding, only a little of the food was gone and it didn't look like she had drank anything... She was cold and stiff. Rather than put off the inevitable, we wrapped her in a towel and took her back to my daughter to tell her. Our first attempt to explain went amiss when we just said that Foddy had "gotten sick". My little girl replied with "What can we do to help her? Take her to the animal doctor?" When we tried to regroup and delayed in our answer, she was perseptive enough to ask "Is she dead?"
We then told our sons what had happened. They took consolation in knowing that Foddy would now be able to play with Twinkle Toes, our pet ferret that died in the spring. Then I was taken quite off guard as both of my older two wanted to know what pet we would get next and started to explain to us what we needed for a fish tank. To see a six year old, with read eyes, still gulping air recovering after crying, explain that you need "a glass tank, some pretty rocks, or sand, and some fake plants, and water, and ..." I didn't know to laugh or cry!
We put them to bed and went back downstairs to the cage. Then I made the discovery that ripped my heart in two. The ball in her water bottle was jammed up the tube and wouldn't dispense any water! With one squeeze I freed it and water dripped into the corner of the cage. She had dug almost every scrap of bedding out of that corner of the cage and her head was laying under the water bottle when I found her. Indeed, when I cleaned her cage, and refilled her water bottle, I sealed her fate. Both my wife and I had checked on the water bottle throughout the week but both of us assumed the other had topped it off for her, not questioning why it was staying full. To add to the guilt, one of my first thoughts had been "great! no more cages to clean".
To echo a theme from the McBlunder post a few back, please don't tell my daughter what I did to her Foddy. With all this parental guilt she is going to make out just fine, she can have a whole school of fish if she plays her cards right!
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Random Photo's of Great Kids
Liesie Lu - Craft Casualty?
Crew Atop Stone Mountain
Easter Morning in the Front Yard
Crew Atop Stone Mountain
Easter Morning in the Front Yard
Dangers of Vacation in Florida
Monday, October 23, 2006
McBlunder
I have been on the road for 5 straight weeks; Kansas, Spain, Kansas, West Virginia, then Louisiana. No, that is not a common occurrence but I seem to have at least one “Travel Season” each year. Yes, it does wear on me and it is very difficult to spend that much time away from my wife and children. Often I try to find ways to reconnect with my family in those short weekends I have at home.
During the corresponding 5 week period, McDonalds has been running their Monopoly promotion that they do, it seems, at least once a year. If you are not familiar with the game, you get 2 monopoly property cards (or instant wins of fries/drink/etc) with the purchase of your drink, fries, certain sandwiches, and hash browns. The little cards also have a 10 digit number on them that you can take to www.playatmcd.com, type in, and see if you win a lesser prize in their online version.
While on the road I typically avoid McDonalds like the plague because of my affinity for vanilla shakes and their non-alignment with my current weight loss efforts. But, always one for a good game, I decided that I would eat primarily McD’s during the promotion. And as to my willpower, I have not ordered a single shake and have ordered my chicken sandwiches sans mayo 90% of the time as well.
At the end of the first trip I discovered a way to share my travels with my daughter. She would jump on my lap and read off the codes to me to type in. You can only do 10 codes a day so this has become a bit of a ritual for us on my weekends of late. Could I have done it faster and not mistake a Q for a 6 every single time? Yes, but the time with her quickly became my greatest motivation to keep playing. When you do the math 4 weeks of meals (one of the five weeks was in Spain, no McD’s to eat there), 5-7 meals per week, and 4-8 game pieces per visit, I quickly accumulated roughly 150 game pieces.
I have a smattering of free fries and breakfast sandwiches, about 15 Best Buy bucks accumulated, and now have every property except the “winning property” for every monopoly for both the paper and online versions of the game. Over the weekend I finally hit pay dirt, not once, but twice online. I won two free cell phone ringtone downloads! Both times, rather than print out the certificates I just told myself I would redeem them from the emails McDonalds said they would send me.
This morning at work I checked my Yahoo email folder and deleted the classmates.com, walmart.com, and the plea from the RNC to send in last minute election donations. Normally I ignore the Bulk email folder and let Yahoo delete those files after they have been in there for 2 weeks. (It averages between 700 and 2000 spam emails for any given two week period) For some unexplainable reason this morning I clicked the “Empty” button next to the Bulk folder! It was 30 minutes later when the implications of that decision hit me… Yahoo had filed my ringtones in the Bulk folder and… poof… I had killed them.
Was it the $5 million dollar grand prize? No. Was it even the $100 minimum online prize for the Baltic/Mediterranean combination? No. Does my cell phone even let me download ringtones? NO! What I deleted was the symbol of the time together with my daughter, a reminder of a high five from my princess after entering over 100 codes and finally winning, and it was a smile, kiss, and a hug when we won the very next night on the first code. All of that was bought and paid for with a patient wife and lonely nights in a hotel room growing ever more convinced that Bill Maher is the most conceited, disillusioned, and spiteful man on the planet. OK, technically it was my Corporate American Express Card but have you ever forced yourself to watch “Real Time”?
Ultimately my reward was that reconnection during the short precious days I had with my family over the weekends. Hopefully the last 20 codes will have a winner or two in them as well. But if you are reading of my blunder, I ask only one favor, don’t tell Michaela what her dumb old dad did…
During the corresponding 5 week period, McDonalds has been running their Monopoly promotion that they do, it seems, at least once a year. If you are not familiar with the game, you get 2 monopoly property cards (or instant wins of fries/drink/etc) with the purchase of your drink, fries, certain sandwiches, and hash browns. The little cards also have a 10 digit number on them that you can take to www.playatmcd.com, type in, and see if you win a lesser prize in their online version.
While on the road I typically avoid McDonalds like the plague because of my affinity for vanilla shakes and their non-alignment with my current weight loss efforts. But, always one for a good game, I decided that I would eat primarily McD’s during the promotion. And as to my willpower, I have not ordered a single shake and have ordered my chicken sandwiches sans mayo 90% of the time as well.
At the end of the first trip I discovered a way to share my travels with my daughter. She would jump on my lap and read off the codes to me to type in. You can only do 10 codes a day so this has become a bit of a ritual for us on my weekends of late. Could I have done it faster and not mistake a Q for a 6 every single time? Yes, but the time with her quickly became my greatest motivation to keep playing. When you do the math 4 weeks of meals (one of the five weeks was in Spain, no McD’s to eat there), 5-7 meals per week, and 4-8 game pieces per visit, I quickly accumulated roughly 150 game pieces.
I have a smattering of free fries and breakfast sandwiches, about 15 Best Buy bucks accumulated, and now have every property except the “winning property” for every monopoly for both the paper and online versions of the game. Over the weekend I finally hit pay dirt, not once, but twice online. I won two free cell phone ringtone downloads! Both times, rather than print out the certificates I just told myself I would redeem them from the emails McDonalds said they would send me.
This morning at work I checked my Yahoo email folder and deleted the classmates.com, walmart.com, and the plea from the RNC to send in last minute election donations. Normally I ignore the Bulk email folder and let Yahoo delete those files after they have been in there for 2 weeks. (It averages between 700 and 2000 spam emails for any given two week period) For some unexplainable reason this morning I clicked the “Empty” button next to the Bulk folder! It was 30 minutes later when the implications of that decision hit me… Yahoo had filed my ringtones in the Bulk folder and… poof… I had killed them.
Was it the $5 million dollar grand prize? No. Was it even the $100 minimum online prize for the Baltic/Mediterranean combination? No. Does my cell phone even let me download ringtones? NO! What I deleted was the symbol of the time together with my daughter, a reminder of a high five from my princess after entering over 100 codes and finally winning, and it was a smile, kiss, and a hug when we won the very next night on the first code. All of that was bought and paid for with a patient wife and lonely nights in a hotel room growing ever more convinced that Bill Maher is the most conceited, disillusioned, and spiteful man on the planet. OK, technically it was my Corporate American Express Card but have you ever forced yourself to watch “Real Time”?
Ultimately my reward was that reconnection during the short precious days I had with my family over the weekends. Hopefully the last 20 codes will have a winner or two in them as well. But if you are reading of my blunder, I ask only one favor, don’t tell Michaela what her dumb old dad did…
Monday, October 09, 2006
Baptism of my Eldest
For eight years I felt that this day would and should never come. We have passed many milestones in the last eight years, a first step, a first word, a first book, his first day of school, and countless pride filled and embarrassing moments. This was a boy that has seemed to take a different road from day one. Born almost 9 lbs he was challenged with numerous allergies, milk, egg, and most challenging, peanuts. Two bouts of RSV as an infant landing him in the hospital a couple nights and leading to weakened lungs. Behind those challenges (not to mention small genes on his mother's side) his growth slowed to the point where we debated if we could ever turn his car seat around.
Small but bright, reading at four, very analytical, tender heart, but be careful if he looses his temper! Pretty good big brother, typical eldest child, a bit bossy. He has a hard time taking turns because he knows he can do it better. I think that is true at both home and school. There are countless stories of his individuality but 8 years was not enough time to prepare me for his baptism last Saturday.
I baptized many people on my mission, I baptized my nephew before I left, I baptized a 300 lb high school buddy. None of those events prepared me for taking my little guy into the font last weekend. The ward found the smallest jumpsuit they make and we still had to roll the pant legs up 4-5 rolls. As he came into the font, the water reached his armpits. I said the prayer and put him under the water and then realized I was putting him so deep into the water that if I brought him up too fast he might get the bends. Of course, knowing some of the things that boy is done, I just knew he had to be down there for a while.
But it didn't really hit me until we were in the changing room, he was dripping and shivering. I was drying his head off and he stopped me, looked up at me, smiled from ear to ear, and said, "Daddy, that was GRRREAT!" Now it may have been a delayed reaction to the frosting his Uncle Dave fed him during his baptism talk but I think he was feeling the warming glow of the Holy Ghost. The realization that my son had recognized the spirit for the first time was overwhelming! That moment surpassed any other for the last eight years. I know there will be more powerful ones in the future, but for now, that moment, just me and my son, was the most special I have had.
Monday, October 02, 2006
A week in Spain - but not as fun as it sounds...
First of all, if you visited recently and noticed by blog was offline, I am sorry, your guess is as good as mine as to what was happening. I clicked the "republish" button and everything seems to be back up and functioning.
For the last several years we have participated with our parent company's annual Environmental Coordinator's conference in Phoenix. Due to the distance, we held a smaller conference for our European coordinators last year in Hungary that I was able to attend. This year my company has been spun off as a stand alone company under new ownership. As such, we were able to hold our first global Safety Health and Environmental Coordinators Conference. We hold these in close proximity to one of our 12 plants spread throughout the world. This year we were in Santander, Spain, on the northern coast.
For the last several years we have participated with our parent company's annual Environmental Coordinator's conference in Phoenix. Due to the distance, we held a smaller conference for our European coordinators last year in Hungary that I was able to attend. This year my company has been spun off as a stand alone company under new ownership. As such, we were able to hold our first global Safety Health and Environmental Coordinators Conference. We hold these in close proximity to one of our 12 plants spread throughout the world. This year we were in Santander, Spain, on the northern coast.
The building in the middle was the hotel we were in for a week. The beach was a nice place to visit in the evenings (I didn't visit during the day due to the "more liberal European culture"). They did have a nice sidewalk that ran the length of the town along the beach and was a great running path.
A few things were hard to get used to. The Spanish culture doesn't eat dinner until late in the evening. Most restaurants don't even open until 9pm. Then, it usually takes between 2-3.5 hours to eat dinner. All week long I returned to my room sometime between midnight and one, called Jamie, and went to bed. Sleeping on a full stomach was fun...
Most of my tourism came during my evening runs. I would carry my camera and run along the beach to the various sites I could run to in under 30 minutes. I visited the Marina, a lighthouse, a small free zoo, a boat display of three boats they built in the 70's to recreate Columbian era Atlantic Crossings, and probably the most impressive site was the Castle of Magdellena. The castle was built in the 1700's as a gift from the town to the Spanish King as a place to stay whenever he visited Santander.
While at the castle taking pictures a young couple came up to me and said, "CAN... YOU... TAKE... OUR... PICTURE...?" with all the volume and hand gestures you can put with that question. They were a young couple from Iowa on their honeymoon and were quite excited when I answered in English that I would be glad too. From the way they talked they hadn't encountered another English speaking person for a week.
Ultimately, other than my hour long runs each evening, I spent the daylight hours of the entire week in either a conference room, a restaurant, or touring our plant nearby. Not exactly vacation but certainly a place I would recommend to visit if I had more time.
We also planned the next two conference locations. 2007 will be the Canadian side of Niagara Falls close to our Hamilton, Ontario facility and then in 2008 we will find a location close to our Trecate, Italy plant. My wife is already talking about ways to accompany me to that one. I'm sure I have more than one brother that will offer to come along and serve as tour guides / interpreters for that one as well...
Friday, September 22, 2006
5 Kilometers with a Fat Man
About two months ago my company announced its annual participation in an even called the "Corporate Challenge". It is a 5k(3.1 miles for the metric challenged folks) run/walk through downtown Atlanta. With over 17,000 participants it is I believe the second largest race in Georgia behind the Peachtree Roadrace which draws roughly 55,000 and is in a class by itself here in Georgia. Anyway, for some stupid reason I decided that I needed to run this thing.
About one month ago I realized I needed to start training or I was really going to be hating life. Running on my treadmill 2-3 times a week over that span I had reached a point where I could set that thing on 5mph (12 minute miles) and not get tired. I didn't try to push it too much but knew in actual race conditions I could do better. My training culminated while in Kansas this week where I ran a 5k in 31 minutes on Monday and 2 miles in 18:30 on Tuesday. With those times turned in, I set a personal goal of 30 minutes for the event held last night (Thursday).
Race day came and I felt ready. I got to work and found my team T-shirt on my desk. Bright Yellow? I know they wanted us to stick out but post-it note yellow? Oh well, I wasn't going to let that dampen the run. I staged with the runners (there was a walkers group as well) about halfway back in the crowd. Once the race started it took me a minute to pass under the actual start banner where I started my stopwatch.
The first half-mile was a chaotic mess! I had obviously started a little further back in the field than I should have because I found myself jogging very slowly and trying to weave through the unthinned pack. Teams and buddies that had started together were running 5-6 people abreast causing those of us that wanted to move forward to really work for it. I quickly discovered that the sidewalk was clear and although it had a few more tripping hazards it was far easier to catch up with the group that was running close to my speed. Finally clear of the mess I pushed it the second half mile to make up time.
They had told us that there was water stations at the mile 1 and mile 2 checkpoints. So to my great surprise I found myself passing the first water station 7:30 into my run. I thought to myself "Perry, you are the man, you are blowing away your goal, hope you can keep this pace..." You can imagine my disappointment when two minutes later I was passing a big banner that read "1 mile". What a mean trick! Oh well at 9:30 for the first mile, I was right on pace for my 30 minute goal and I was feeling good.
The second mile went well. I started passing a few people who had outstretched themselves in the first mile and were now walking. Interestingly, seeing their failed resolve only strengthened mine. I decided then and there that no matter what, I would not stop and walk. I started to hurt somewhere in that second mile but stayed focused on my pace and pushed every time I felt myself slowing. As I passed the second water stand and the 2 mile mark (accurately co-located this time) my watch read 19:00. Somehow I had kept the exact same pace for the second mile as the first.
What I hadn't fully accounted for was the profile of the course. The first mile is mostly downhill, the second is a series of ups and downs, and then the third mile is almost all uphill. As I stared up that long hill I felt the early stages of a side cramp and started to debate whether my earlier promise to myself was premature. Just then, motivation arrived. Two coworkers that had been talking a good game before the race appeared in bright yellow 20 yards ahead. It is amazing what bragging rights can do for the spirit. I pushed past them and told myself not to look back and that they must be on my heals. I felt that psychological push the rest of the way in.
My other commitment to myself had been that no matter what happened, I would sprint to the end. So with about 200 yards to go I picked up the pace. Flying past others who had resigned themselves to the same pace to the finish line I felt like a champion. The harder I sprinted and the more people I passed the more energy I felt. As I crossed the finish line I stopped my watch but couldn't look down. I knew that hill had taken it out of me and I feared I had missed my goal. After a few moments gasping for air and convincing myself I was not suffering either a heart attack or a collapsed lung I looked down... 29:44! WOW! I had done it! Yeah, I had come in probably 500th place but I had met my personal goal despite the slopes of the course. Me, Mr. 236 lb, obese BMI of 32, had done it.
For those of you who know me (and if you are reading this there is a 99.99% chance you fall into that category) you know that this kind of competition is my greatest motivation. I had been running occasionally when I had the time but only when a "race" came on the horizon did I really start "trying". There is a lot to be said for personal goals and striving to be the best you can be.
I did have one other motivation in the last month. As I travel a lot, I can't always squeeze a run in. I flew into Pittsburgh late one night and was on the road to Wheeling, WV with no intention of running that night. Then my wife gave me a call. One of my older brothers had suffered a heart attack and was in surgery. This particular brother struggles with weight issues like myself and has actually developed Adult Onset Type II diabetes. I got to the hotel at 10:20 that night, changed, and ran for almost an hour on their treadmill. My brother is fine, single bypass and some stints, but I know I have the power within me to avoid that fate (or at least decrease the likelihood).
I know this was a long post, but hey it was a long race. My prayer for all those around me is to find your motivation, be it competition, be it health, be it a fitted outfit you have your eyes on, be it a spouse or children, or be it anything, and be the best you can be. Now I am far, far, FAR from perfect and each person has to define what the "best" is for themselves but it is important to know what that is and find a way to get there. This is not just for health of body but for health of spirit and relationships as well. The keys to meeting my goal were preparation (put in the time needed to do things right), consistency (9:30 miles no matter the grade of the path ahead), and plenty of perspiration (keep in mind you may stink for a while but you can always take a shower).
You can now see how spiritual my running is to me, I went all preachy and that was not my intent, sorry guys...
About one month ago I realized I needed to start training or I was really going to be hating life. Running on my treadmill 2-3 times a week over that span I had reached a point where I could set that thing on 5mph (12 minute miles) and not get tired. I didn't try to push it too much but knew in actual race conditions I could do better. My training culminated while in Kansas this week where I ran a 5k in 31 minutes on Monday and 2 miles in 18:30 on Tuesday. With those times turned in, I set a personal goal of 30 minutes for the event held last night (Thursday).
Race day came and I felt ready. I got to work and found my team T-shirt on my desk. Bright Yellow? I know they wanted us to stick out but post-it note yellow? Oh well, I wasn't going to let that dampen the run. I staged with the runners (there was a walkers group as well) about halfway back in the crowd. Once the race started it took me a minute to pass under the actual start banner where I started my stopwatch.
The first half-mile was a chaotic mess! I had obviously started a little further back in the field than I should have because I found myself jogging very slowly and trying to weave through the unthinned pack. Teams and buddies that had started together were running 5-6 people abreast causing those of us that wanted to move forward to really work for it. I quickly discovered that the sidewalk was clear and although it had a few more tripping hazards it was far easier to catch up with the group that was running close to my speed. Finally clear of the mess I pushed it the second half mile to make up time.
They had told us that there was water stations at the mile 1 and mile 2 checkpoints. So to my great surprise I found myself passing the first water station 7:30 into my run. I thought to myself "Perry, you are the man, you are blowing away your goal, hope you can keep this pace..." You can imagine my disappointment when two minutes later I was passing a big banner that read "1 mile". What a mean trick! Oh well at 9:30 for the first mile, I was right on pace for my 30 minute goal and I was feeling good.
The second mile went well. I started passing a few people who had outstretched themselves in the first mile and were now walking. Interestingly, seeing their failed resolve only strengthened mine. I decided then and there that no matter what, I would not stop and walk. I started to hurt somewhere in that second mile but stayed focused on my pace and pushed every time I felt myself slowing. As I passed the second water stand and the 2 mile mark (accurately co-located this time) my watch read 19:00. Somehow I had kept the exact same pace for the second mile as the first.
What I hadn't fully accounted for was the profile of the course. The first mile is mostly downhill, the second is a series of ups and downs, and then the third mile is almost all uphill. As I stared up that long hill I felt the early stages of a side cramp and started to debate whether my earlier promise to myself was premature. Just then, motivation arrived. Two coworkers that had been talking a good game before the race appeared in bright yellow 20 yards ahead. It is amazing what bragging rights can do for the spirit. I pushed past them and told myself not to look back and that they must be on my heals. I felt that psychological push the rest of the way in.
My other commitment to myself had been that no matter what happened, I would sprint to the end. So with about 200 yards to go I picked up the pace. Flying past others who had resigned themselves to the same pace to the finish line I felt like a champion. The harder I sprinted and the more people I passed the more energy I felt. As I crossed the finish line I stopped my watch but couldn't look down. I knew that hill had taken it out of me and I feared I had missed my goal. After a few moments gasping for air and convincing myself I was not suffering either a heart attack or a collapsed lung I looked down... 29:44! WOW! I had done it! Yeah, I had come in probably 500th place but I had met my personal goal despite the slopes of the course. Me, Mr. 236 lb, obese BMI of 32, had done it.
For those of you who know me (and if you are reading this there is a 99.99% chance you fall into that category) you know that this kind of competition is my greatest motivation. I had been running occasionally when I had the time but only when a "race" came on the horizon did I really start "trying". There is a lot to be said for personal goals and striving to be the best you can be.
I did have one other motivation in the last month. As I travel a lot, I can't always squeeze a run in. I flew into Pittsburgh late one night and was on the road to Wheeling, WV with no intention of running that night. Then my wife gave me a call. One of my older brothers had suffered a heart attack and was in surgery. This particular brother struggles with weight issues like myself and has actually developed Adult Onset Type II diabetes. I got to the hotel at 10:20 that night, changed, and ran for almost an hour on their treadmill. My brother is fine, single bypass and some stints, but I know I have the power within me to avoid that fate (or at least decrease the likelihood).
I know this was a long post, but hey it was a long race. My prayer for all those around me is to find your motivation, be it competition, be it health, be it a fitted outfit you have your eyes on, be it a spouse or children, or be it anything, and be the best you can be. Now I am far, far, FAR from perfect and each person has to define what the "best" is for themselves but it is important to know what that is and find a way to get there. This is not just for health of body but for health of spirit and relationships as well. The keys to meeting my goal were preparation (put in the time needed to do things right), consistency (9:30 miles no matter the grade of the path ahead), and plenty of perspiration (keep in mind you may stink for a while but you can always take a shower).
You can now see how spiritual my running is to me, I went all preachy and that was not my intent, sorry guys...
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
The flight attendant that couldn't keep her mouth shut...
On Sunday night I found myself on a little regional jet from Atlanta to Wichita. You know the little 50 seaters that have far too little leg room or head room for a grown man but they cram us in there anyway!?! As I boarded I noticed the somewhat unconventional flight attendant. She was probably late 50's early 60's, silver hair, slightly overweight. Not the standard picture of a "stewardess" even though I know that image is changing. During her pre-flight I picked up on her attention to detail as she told probably told half a dozen passengers that their bags were too big to stored under the seat in front of them and would have to be moved into the overhead. Then she made her way through the cabin and handed out 4 seat belt extension devises (basically to every passenger with a BMI over 35). In two and a half years of flying I have only seen these devises used twice... Then she made her way back to me and told me that my MP3 player had to be stored away until we reached 10,000 Ft. I showed her it was in the off position but she didn't care, it couldn't even be out of its case until we were in the air...
OK, by that point I knew she was different but it was not until her announcements that I started to get concerned. She started with the standard air masks blah blah blah and flotation devises blah blah blah but then proceeded to tell us why she had the first three rows of seats empty. "Ladies and Gentlement, I know that some of you in full rows are eying these prime seats at the front of the aircraft but this plane is what we call a tail-light aircraft. We need to have more of you sit in the rear of the aircraft to distribute the weight more properly over the wing to counterbalance the electronics and equipment in the front of the plane..." OK, that may all be true, but does she really need to announce it to the entire aircraft? Why didn't she just say "Ladies and Gentlemen, you all know what happened in Kentucky last month, it is only by the grace of God that we get this hunk of metal off the ground in the first place..."
The next incident occurred just after we cleared 10,000 feet and the seat belt light went off. All of a sudden we had 5 seconds of turbulence, not horrific, but a good shake that I'm sure would have had my wife's knuckles white were she on the plane. My mind said "wow, that was a nice thick cloud" but no, I was soon set straight as the informative flight attendant let everyone on the plane know, "Ladies and Gentlemen, sorry about that, we just passed through the wake of another jet." Now I have seen Top Gun, visions of us entering a flat spin and Goose dying upon ejection from the aircraft shoot through my head... Why on EARTH would she feel the need to tell us that?
Later, as we were making our final approach into Wichita, the landing gear deployed with the loudest clank I have heard in 2.5 years of frequent flying. One of those moments when you hold your hands out like you are Jeff Bridges as Flynn in the movie Tron. You know you are a user and if you just concentrate hard enough you can pull the broken up Recognizer back into one piece. (If you understood that example with the same clarity I gave it, all doubt of your geekdom has been erased!) The lady then comes over the intercom and it is not what she said but her timing and the way she said it, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the landing gear IS... DOWN... please prepare yourself for landing, its been a pleasure flying with you." If I didn't know better I would have thought she was saying, "Listen folks, our wheels just fell off, this is going to get rough, its been nice knowing you..."
As a frequent flyer, I think I can laugh this one off. If this had been your first flight or you are someone that is afraid of flying, this lady would have scarred you for life... Flight Attendents, even though NONE of you will EVER read this please take the following to heart, ignorance IS bliss, knowledge is not always power, and most importantly, just because it is true, doesn't make it right to communicate. The same series of incidents would have had no lasting impact without the "insightful" comments of a crazy old flight attendant.
OK, by that point I knew she was different but it was not until her announcements that I started to get concerned. She started with the standard air masks blah blah blah and flotation devises blah blah blah but then proceeded to tell us why she had the first three rows of seats empty. "Ladies and Gentlement, I know that some of you in full rows are eying these prime seats at the front of the aircraft but this plane is what we call a tail-light aircraft. We need to have more of you sit in the rear of the aircraft to distribute the weight more properly over the wing to counterbalance the electronics and equipment in the front of the plane..." OK, that may all be true, but does she really need to announce it to the entire aircraft? Why didn't she just say "Ladies and Gentlemen, you all know what happened in Kentucky last month, it is only by the grace of God that we get this hunk of metal off the ground in the first place..."
The next incident occurred just after we cleared 10,000 feet and the seat belt light went off. All of a sudden we had 5 seconds of turbulence, not horrific, but a good shake that I'm sure would have had my wife's knuckles white were she on the plane. My mind said "wow, that was a nice thick cloud" but no, I was soon set straight as the informative flight attendant let everyone on the plane know, "Ladies and Gentlemen, sorry about that, we just passed through the wake of another jet." Now I have seen Top Gun, visions of us entering a flat spin and Goose dying upon ejection from the aircraft shoot through my head... Why on EARTH would she feel the need to tell us that?
Later, as we were making our final approach into Wichita, the landing gear deployed with the loudest clank I have heard in 2.5 years of frequent flying. One of those moments when you hold your hands out like you are Jeff Bridges as Flynn in the movie Tron. You know you are a user and if you just concentrate hard enough you can pull the broken up Recognizer back into one piece. (If you understood that example with the same clarity I gave it, all doubt of your geekdom has been erased!) The lady then comes over the intercom and it is not what she said but her timing and the way she said it, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the landing gear IS... DOWN... please prepare yourself for landing, its been a pleasure flying with you." If I didn't know better I would have thought she was saying, "Listen folks, our wheels just fell off, this is going to get rough, its been nice knowing you..."
As a frequent flyer, I think I can laugh this one off. If this had been your first flight or you are someone that is afraid of flying, this lady would have scarred you for life... Flight Attendents, even though NONE of you will EVER read this please take the following to heart, ignorance IS bliss, knowledge is not always power, and most importantly, just because it is true, doesn't make it right to communicate. The same series of incidents would have had no lasting impact without the "insightful" comments of a crazy old flight attendant.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Sister-in-Law Challenge
create your own visited states map
As her husband can attest, everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is a competition in my world! So, when my sister-in-law posted her States visited map, I have to do the same and hopefully win... That is the person (in my self defined circle) that has been to the most states, right? Of course, the only reason I have been to several of these states is because of my job. Either driving through them during my drive to Georgia from New Mexico (Mississippi), or States where I have never spent a night, I just fly in/fly out (Pennsylvania & Missouri). Some have been in an airport only (Illinois), while others have been driving through to meet family now that I live on the East Coast (S Carolina, Tenn., Kentucky). But hey, in the state is in the state, right? My most recent addition was Florida where the family spent the Fourth of July weekend on the beach in Destin. That will most definitely not be a one time occurrence. I may win the "Countries Visited" among my circle of friends/family, but I will spare them the embarrassment of a map...
Friday, August 04, 2006
50+ Books, Six Flags, 2 Kids, and a Pooped out Dad
The local amusement park has devised quite the strategy here. Each year, school children can earn a "free" ticket to the park by completing and documenting a certain number of hours spent reading throughout the school year. For the second summer in a row I have now made this trip with my older two children both of which are voracious readers that would qualify for several tickets if multiple were allowed. Their "free" tickets ultimately translate into roughly $30 for my ticket, $15 for parking, $20 for Lunch, $10 for games, $5 for snacks, and another $15 for dinner... almost $100 bucks because my wife had to go and teach my children how to read! And I thought the Leap-pad was a good investment!
Going to an amusement park with two kids just barely tall enough for the tamest of the rides is not as boring as it may sound. First of all, in 95 degrees and 90% humidity those water rides are FAR better than the hour wait followed by 30 seconds of exhilaration that "Goliath" may provide. Secondly, as a dad the true thrill comes from the enjoyment of your children, not your own exhilaration. Last year I convinced my kids to go on "The Great American Scream Machine" (not nearly as bad as the name implies as 42" kids can ride it) but at the end of the ride they were both in tears and made me promise this year that we would go nowhere near that ride. The day will come when they enjoy that, until then I have learned that a 6 yr old girl riding shotgun in your bumper car yelling out "Go RAM that old lady" is priceless! Lastly, I don't know if I should admit this, I am DEAD tired two days later. Every muscle in my body is aching and we just went on the "family" rides. I can't imagine how I would be feeling if I had tried to tackle "The Scorcher", "Superman", "Ninja", "Deja vu", "Goliath", "Cyclone", "Mind Bender", and the handful of other rides that had height limits taller than my little munchkins! For now I will stay by my story that it must have been the heat and dehydration that is causing me to feel like the pinata, instead of the stick.
As for future trips, maybe I need to burn my kids library! Jamie, please don't teach the younger two to read, please don't make them do their homework, and please conficate any library book they try to smuggle into the house! They say that illiteracy makes life difficult and painful, I am here to tell you that literacy is expensive and DEADLY!
Going to an amusement park with two kids just barely tall enough for the tamest of the rides is not as boring as it may sound. First of all, in 95 degrees and 90% humidity those water rides are FAR better than the hour wait followed by 30 seconds of exhilaration that "Goliath" may provide. Secondly, as a dad the true thrill comes from the enjoyment of your children, not your own exhilaration. Last year I convinced my kids to go on "The Great American Scream Machine" (not nearly as bad as the name implies as 42" kids can ride it) but at the end of the ride they were both in tears and made me promise this year that we would go nowhere near that ride. The day will come when they enjoy that, until then I have learned that a 6 yr old girl riding shotgun in your bumper car yelling out "Go RAM that old lady" is priceless! Lastly, I don't know if I should admit this, I am DEAD tired two days later. Every muscle in my body is aching and we just went on the "family" rides. I can't imagine how I would be feeling if I had tried to tackle "The Scorcher", "Superman", "Ninja", "Deja vu", "Goliath", "Cyclone", "Mind Bender", and the handful of other rides that had height limits taller than my little munchkins! For now I will stay by my story that it must have been the heat and dehydration that is causing me to feel like the pinata, instead of the stick.
As for future trips, maybe I need to burn my kids library! Jamie, please don't teach the younger two to read, please don't make them do their homework, and please conficate any library book they try to smuggle into the house! They say that illiteracy makes life difficult and painful, I am here to tell you that literacy is expensive and DEADLY!
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Never Mock a Prophet
While preparing my Sunday School lesson on Saturday I came across a little story that I swear I have never read before! Of all the miracles that Elisha performed, how this one is relegated to relative obscurity is a shame. I mean, multiplying the oil, floating the ax head, and healing Naaman's leprosy only to pass it to his own greedy servant are all great stories but this one is far better!
Just after the mantle of Elijah had been passed to Elisha, Elisha was leaving town. A group of kids followed him out of town and began to mock him. Using one of the oldest and most effective jabs ever employed, they made fun of his follicly challenged scalp. "Hey baldy, what happened? Elijah's chariot of fire get to close and burn off all your hair?" Apparently Elisha was as sensitive to his baldness as modern men. The key difference is, Elisha had the authority to deal with the issue... he promtly cursed them and two she bears came out of the forest and "tare forty and two children". Now I'm not sure what kind of verb "tare" is but I am assuming it is along the lines of weeding out the trouble-makers and not a pleasurable experience! If Elisha could just bottle that bald treatment it would outsell Karl Malone's Rogaine or Ronco's Hair Spray Paint every day of the week!
In conclusion, to my twin brother, (who is as bald as Gandhi while I got the follicle gene) forgive me, if you ever become the prophet your tender mercies would be appreciated, and as always, shine on bro, shine on...
Just after the mantle of Elijah had been passed to Elisha, Elisha was leaving town. A group of kids followed him out of town and began to mock him. Using one of the oldest and most effective jabs ever employed, they made fun of his follicly challenged scalp. "Hey baldy, what happened? Elijah's chariot of fire get to close and burn off all your hair?" Apparently Elisha was as sensitive to his baldness as modern men. The key difference is, Elisha had the authority to deal with the issue... he promtly cursed them and two she bears came out of the forest and "tare forty and two children". Now I'm not sure what kind of verb "tare" is but I am assuming it is along the lines of weeding out the trouble-makers and not a pleasurable experience! If Elisha could just bottle that bald treatment it would outsell Karl Malone's Rogaine or Ronco's Hair Spray Paint every day of the week!
In conclusion, to my twin brother, (who is as bald as Gandhi while I got the follicle gene) forgive me, if you ever become the prophet your tender mercies would be appreciated, and as always, shine on bro, shine on...
Friday, July 21, 2006
Road Warrior
As I travel for my job there are certain things about being on the road that a big hassle.
Its not the odd bed or pillows: most people that know me know I can sleep on a rock with a train passing by.
It is sometimes the food: does this Subway take American Express or am I going to have to use cash?... Can I eat this steak and tell Jamie what I had for dinner without apologizing?... I REALLY shouldn't have this milkshake but they are just sooooo good?... Note to self, just because a new exotic food is good going in, it may not stay that way...
Often times it is the hotel service: Shampoo & no conditioner? Shampoo/Conditioner... how can I condition my hair if I am simultainiously washing it out? In-room wireless conection? What if I don't have a wireless card? What do you mean you only have smoking rooms? What was the point of "confirming" my non-smoking room reservation then???
I really hate the long hours: "well since you can't go home, just stay at the plant until 6 or 7 to help us out", since I am out of the office, I have to work in my hotel room in the evening to finish the work I would be doing if I was in the office that everyone still assumes you will complete, and I fly on my time...I'm RARELY on a flight home before 4pm and drag into the house after 11pm on most trips.
Worst of all is what I am missing: Time with my kids and wife can never be reclaimed. Talking to my kids on the phone is not the same as kissing them and tucking them into bed. The helpless feeling when something goes wrong at home and Jamie is fending for herself is gutt wrenching! And don't get me started on the missed "cuddling".
But is it worth it? I don't know. At times yes (when I get my next paycheck or get to visit exotic locations or when I redeem Frequent traveller points for trips to the beach with my family) and at times no (when someone is sick at home and I can't be there to help or when Jamie is having a bad day and I can't be there to hold her). But with all the physical hurdles of travelling, it is the emotional battles that make me you a "warrior". I hope my wife and children do not resent my absence but recognize it for what it represents, my attempt to provide for them in the face of personal sacrifice of not being in their presence. I love you Jamie!
Can you tell I am writing this from the road?
Its not the odd bed or pillows: most people that know me know I can sleep on a rock with a train passing by.
It is sometimes the food: does this Subway take American Express or am I going to have to use cash?... Can I eat this steak and tell Jamie what I had for dinner without apologizing?... I REALLY shouldn't have this milkshake but they are just sooooo good?... Note to self, just because a new exotic food is good going in, it may not stay that way...
Often times it is the hotel service: Shampoo & no conditioner? Shampoo/Conditioner... how can I condition my hair if I am simultainiously washing it out? In-room wireless conection? What if I don't have a wireless card? What do you mean you only have smoking rooms? What was the point of "confirming" my non-smoking room reservation then???
I really hate the long hours: "well since you can't go home, just stay at the plant until 6 or 7 to help us out", since I am out of the office, I have to work in my hotel room in the evening to finish the work I would be doing if I was in the office that everyone still assumes you will complete, and I fly on my time...I'm RARELY on a flight home before 4pm and drag into the house after 11pm on most trips.
Worst of all is what I am missing: Time with my kids and wife can never be reclaimed. Talking to my kids on the phone is not the same as kissing them and tucking them into bed. The helpless feeling when something goes wrong at home and Jamie is fending for herself is gutt wrenching! And don't get me started on the missed "cuddling".
But is it worth it? I don't know. At times yes (when I get my next paycheck or get to visit exotic locations or when I redeem Frequent traveller points for trips to the beach with my family) and at times no (when someone is sick at home and I can't be there to help or when Jamie is having a bad day and I can't be there to hold her). But with all the physical hurdles of travelling, it is the emotional battles that make me you a "warrior". I hope my wife and children do not resent my absence but recognize it for what it represents, my attempt to provide for them in the face of personal sacrifice of not being in their presence. I love you Jamie!
Can you tell I am writing this from the road?
Friday, July 14, 2006
I knew she would crack!
Not that this blog had anything to do with it (as I never did anything but the first post) but I knew my sweet wife would eventually divulge the location of her blog. The funniest thing is that I never even told her about my (1 post) blog to put the heat on her as I had stated was my plan in my... 1 post. I believe she gave in more on account of my twin brother's wife having a blog. Whatever the reason, I have really enjoyed reading my wife's blog (stop the insanity) and don't see what she was so concerned about me reading it for. Perhaps she won't be as free to post her inner most thoughts for fear of what I might think but hopefully she knows she can tell me anything. Anyway, maybe someday (soon) I will get around to telling her where to find my blog... maybe.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Just Getting Started
This is the prerequisite post that I suspect accompanies any new blog... the "OK, this is my first time doing this," the "I'm not sure what all I'm going to include," and the "I am really excited about doing this" post that should never be written in the first place. Everyone knows it is your first post by the lack of additional posts and the only people that will see this at this point are your friends that you email the link to. And they don't want to read about how you don't know what to say anymore than a stranger does... However, these post do serve a purpose, they get the ball rolling and hopefully some constructive thought or idea is the eventual fruit. I somehow doubt that my diatribes will ever amount to thought or ideas though! Really, the only reason I am doing this is because my wife tells me she has started a Blog, but won't tell me the address. As hard as I have looked, I can't find it. So hopefully, the fact that I am doing the same to here will provide the requisite leverage. Am I a delusional husband or what?
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