This phrase has been made famous by the Lord of the Rings books and more recently the movies. I thought of this phrase as I was driving back from my mom’s house on Labor Day.
My dad sold insurance for several years when I was a kid. His boss was an incredible person and always went the extra mile for his ‘guys’. Probably ten years ago, long after my dad stopped selling insurance, my folks and Duane were going out for dinner, I told my mom to tell Duane how I admired how he treated his agents and this certainly influenced how I supervise people.
One of the things Duane did was give gold rings, paid for out of his own pocket, to agents who sold a certain amount of insurance. As a child, once I learned this, I thought my dad should get one of those rings as I thought it would be pretty cool. So for the next year I would check in with dad, pester him is probably a better word, about his progress on getting the ring. I think I started to really annoy him and he wanted to get his ring just so I would shut up.
That year, dad not only sold enough insurance to get his ring, but also sold enough to get a free trip to Tucson Arizona.
At the annual awards banquet, dad gave a speech where he talked about his quest to get the ring and that his son had turned into a ‘ring monster’, (just like Gollum). When dad was to receive his ring, Duane gave it to me and I presented it to dad. I can remember feeling very strange as everyone was standing and clapping. A kid doesn’t always realize the significance of what’s happening around him.
Not that it mattered to me when I received it but it was always understood that since I was the ring monster, the ring should eventually be worn on my finger. I was never in any kind of a rush to wear it as rings have a tendency to fall off my hand.
My dad has lung cancer, I wrote about it in a previous blog. One lung is cancer free but the other one is not. He will begin a regime of 10 straight days of radiation and then will probably have chemotherapy. He found this out this last Friday (I got to mom and dads on Saturday). While I was there I noticed his energy level was so low.
On Sunday, dad asked me to go for a drive. When dad says something like this, it is usually to try to give me $20 so the kids can get a ‘treat’ on the drive home. We drove in his convertible to the golf course, a place where we spent a lot of time when I was a child. He parked the car overlooking the first hole. We sit there for a minute talking about nothing really significant and out of no where he sets the ring on my leg and says, “Here, I want to give this to you now, before I die.” I immediately feel tears welling up in my eyes and I told him that, “I didn’t want the ring now as it seems like…”
He interrupts me and says, “That I’m going to die? Of course I’m going to die Mitchell (he always says Mitchell when he is serious) but not for a few years.” After a few minutes of and wiping away several tears, I slip the ring in my pocket. “You wear it if you want to but don’t lose it,” he says to me. I always planned on wearing it but thought it kind of strange if I put the ring on right there.
As we drive through the gravel parking lot of the golf course, heading home, dad says, “I can still kick your ass you know,”
Without missing a beat I say “Fat g%#damn chance of that happening.” I hear my dad laugh out loud and I know that we will all be ok.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
Grilling Baby!
I find acts of kindness moving, the things when someone does something just because they want to with no expectations of anything in return. They help to formulate my thoughts on humanity, to give a different perspective on the human spirit.
As many of you know, my family has been living in an apartment for almost a year. Because we are on the second floor, we are unable to grill, which is something I love to do, on a side note, most men love grilling. I wonder if it has something to do with our primordial roots.
My neighbor directly below me grills at least four days a week, all year long. But it was shortly after I moved there that really impacted me. Each Sunday morning, my screen door to my balcony open, the smell of a fall morning filling my apartment, anticipating a Vikings game and Ron would already be out there grilling. The first few times I would call out to him, “Whatcha grilling today Ron?” You see, Ron is THE master griller. He would answer back “oh today I have a few porterhouse steaks” or “I’m smoking some beef ribs.” Dammit!
After about the first month of Ron grilling all the time, I stopped asking what he was cooking as I was jealous. I was jealous of Ron’s awesome looking charcoal grill with the smoker attachment, I was jealous that I couldn’t grill. It felt like a carrot was being dangled in front of a donkey (yes I am that jack ass). I came to hate that grill for making me the fool, for teasing me, taunting me with the sweet aroma of wood chips. When I looked down at the grill, it almost smiles and winks at me, sitting there all prim and proper like an antique train locomotive.
I had visions of dressing up as a spy and sneaking outside at night with my tools and manually taking it apart, “ha-ha grill take that” I would say as I scaled the wall back to my second floor balcony apartment. But I never did as Ron and his wife Lori have always been nice to my family.
I was talking with Lori one afternoon and informed her that we had purchased a house and that when we move I plan on buying a grill just like Ron’s. I was asking her about how to smoke food as I’ve never done anything like that.
Fast forward a few weeks to Father’s day weekend. My wife is talking to Ron and Lori and they inform Jody that Lori purchased another grill for Ron and was wondering if I might like his old one (and this grill is far from old). I of course say a million thank you’s as I wheeled it into our garage. Funny thing, I don’t hate that grill anymore and even though I won’t be able to use it until August, it is my new best friend. After everyone goes to bed, I sneak down to the garage to tuck it in, make sure it is happy give it a nice hug (hugs are an easy way to show those who are important to us how much we love them). If my grill has been extra good, I might even read it a story. Where the Wild Things Are is his favorite…”And now”, cried Max, “Let the Wild Rumpus Start.”
So a million thank you’s to Ron and Lori, for their extreme act of kindness, for recharging my belief in the kindness of people.
As many of you know, my family has been living in an apartment for almost a year. Because we are on the second floor, we are unable to grill, which is something I love to do, on a side note, most men love grilling. I wonder if it has something to do with our primordial roots.
My neighbor directly below me grills at least four days a week, all year long. But it was shortly after I moved there that really impacted me. Each Sunday morning, my screen door to my balcony open, the smell of a fall morning filling my apartment, anticipating a Vikings game and Ron would already be out there grilling. The first few times I would call out to him, “Whatcha grilling today Ron?” You see, Ron is THE master griller. He would answer back “oh today I have a few porterhouse steaks” or “I’m smoking some beef ribs.” Dammit!
After about the first month of Ron grilling all the time, I stopped asking what he was cooking as I was jealous. I was jealous of Ron’s awesome looking charcoal grill with the smoker attachment, I was jealous that I couldn’t grill. It felt like a carrot was being dangled in front of a donkey (yes I am that jack ass). I came to hate that grill for making me the fool, for teasing me, taunting me with the sweet aroma of wood chips. When I looked down at the grill, it almost smiles and winks at me, sitting there all prim and proper like an antique train locomotive.
I had visions of dressing up as a spy and sneaking outside at night with my tools and manually taking it apart, “ha-ha grill take that” I would say as I scaled the wall back to my second floor balcony apartment. But I never did as Ron and his wife Lori have always been nice to my family.
I was talking with Lori one afternoon and informed her that we had purchased a house and that when we move I plan on buying a grill just like Ron’s. I was asking her about how to smoke food as I’ve never done anything like that.
Fast forward a few weeks to Father’s day weekend. My wife is talking to Ron and Lori and they inform Jody that Lori purchased another grill for Ron and was wondering if I might like his old one (and this grill is far from old). I of course say a million thank you’s as I wheeled it into our garage. Funny thing, I don’t hate that grill anymore and even though I won’t be able to use it until August, it is my new best friend. After everyone goes to bed, I sneak down to the garage to tuck it in, make sure it is happy give it a nice hug (hugs are an easy way to show those who are important to us how much we love them). If my grill has been extra good, I might even read it a story. Where the Wild Things Are is his favorite…”And now”, cried Max, “Let the Wild Rumpus Start.”
So a million thank you’s to Ron and Lori, for their extreme act of kindness, for recharging my belief in the kindness of people.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Father's Day
My six year old daughter has been talking about the Father's Day present she made me since she finished school for the year (she was sad when she was done with school as she wants to go every day this summer). She even asked me several times if she could give me my gift early. Most of the time I would have said, "yes, yes, present early, gimme gimme gimme, I need I need." Each time though I could hear the echo of my boss' voice when she has said, "Use this situation as a learning opportunity."
She presented me with a top ten reasons why she loves her dad, here they are:
10. I love my dad because he reads me stories.
9. I love my dad because he helps me ride my bike.
8. I love my dad when he makes me laugh by squeezing my guts!
7. I love my dad because he taught me how to ride my bike.
6. I love to hear my dad sing in the car.
5. I love my dad because he finds time to play.
4. I know my dad cares because he loves me.
3. I know my dad is smart because he works a lot.
2. I love my dad because he works so hard at Laura Baker.
1. I love my dad because he's the best dad ever.
To Kendra I say thank you. Thank you for helping me see that I have been a positive influence in your life.
She presented me with a top ten reasons why she loves her dad, here they are:
10. I love my dad because he reads me stories.
9. I love my dad because he helps me ride my bike.
8. I love my dad when he makes me laugh by squeezing my guts!
7. I love my dad because he taught me how to ride my bike.
6. I love to hear my dad sing in the car.
5. I love my dad because he finds time to play.
4. I know my dad cares because he loves me.
3. I know my dad is smart because he works a lot.
2. I love my dad because he works so hard at Laura Baker.
1. I love my dad because he's the best dad ever.
To Kendra I say thank you. Thank you for helping me see that I have been a positive influence in your life.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Stats...
I was looking at the stats of my blog and much to my suprise, at times there have been people from Russia, Germany, South Korea reading my blog. This blows my mind. I am not sure how this happens...
It's a Whole New World
From time to time we get frustrated with our jobs, frustrated with the tasks we are assigned to do. We might be quick to anger at times with co-workers, we might be quick to jump to conclusions and make assumptions about co-workers. We might be quick to become defensive when someone asks us about something.
Sometimes when things are a struggle, we are a witness to something that changes our perspective, helps us to understand why we have chosen our careers. We witness things that recharge our batteries when we see something that isn’t always expected, but is awesome just the same. When we see the benefits of hard work pay off.
Laura Baker Services is about the people, it is about the relationships formed between staff and the people that live and go to school here. It is about normalcy, it is about choices, it is not only about living but it is about being alive.
Today I witnessed something that changed my perspective, helped me to remember why I chose this career, and made me realize how lucky I am to be able to work with such an incredible person.
We had a graduation celebration for a student who went to school at LBSA for 11 years. What I observed is this person being who he is, not trying to hide behind a label or something he is not but having fun and enjoying life the way it was meant to be lived. He was living.
He wrapped up the celebration by playing “It’s a Whole New World” from the Disney movie Aladdin on the piano. There was not a dry eye in the place. It is a whole new world for this person, closing one chapter in his life and starting another, just as anyone else would.
Sometimes when things are a struggle, we are a witness to something that changes our perspective, helps us to understand why we have chosen our careers. We witness things that recharge our batteries when we see something that isn’t always expected, but is awesome just the same. When we see the benefits of hard work pay off.
Laura Baker Services is about the people, it is about the relationships formed between staff and the people that live and go to school here. It is about normalcy, it is about choices, it is not only about living but it is about being alive.
Today I witnessed something that changed my perspective, helped me to remember why I chose this career, and made me realize how lucky I am to be able to work with such an incredible person.
We had a graduation celebration for a student who went to school at LBSA for 11 years. What I observed is this person being who he is, not trying to hide behind a label or something he is not but having fun and enjoying life the way it was meant to be lived. He was living.
He wrapped up the celebration by playing “It’s a Whole New World” from the Disney movie Aladdin on the piano. There was not a dry eye in the place. It is a whole new world for this person, closing one chapter in his life and starting another, just as anyone else would.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Not one particular topic
The prom theme at my old high school this year is Casablanca (one of the best movies of all time, I first watched it the second time I took film class). I guess they wanted someone who looks like Humphrey Bogart for affect. So a few months ago my dad gets a call from someone on the prom committee asking if he will ‘pose’ as Bogart at the prom. So the old man, all 68 years old, is going to the Valley City High School Senior Prom. I told my mom to take lots of pictures.
Can someone please explain to me the big deal with the royal wedding? I have no interest in the royal family and don’t understand why people in this country still do. For some of you, this might come as a surprise, but way back in 1776, we declared our independence from Great Britain so we don’t have any official ties to that country. I heard on the radio that the wedding costs 33 million dollars and the bride and groom want guests to make donations to charities instead of purchasing gifts. I’m assuming that the tax payers have to pay for the wedding? Here’s a crazy thought, cut costs a little, like two million dollars, and take that money and donate it to charities for kids or for services for people with disabilities.
The tv show The Office is one of my favorite shows of all time. The main character Michael Scott, played brilliantly by Steve Carrell has left the show. In fact his final episode aired last Thursday. What I most enjoy about this show is the characters actually seem like they are real and while the Michael Scott character says and does things that makes me cringe as a boss, he had a genuine concern for his employees that you often don’t see in real life. I find myself wondering how well the show will do without him. I think it will be fine as the show seems to have excellent writers.
My six year old daughter was watching icarly on Nickelodeon. At a point in the show, Carly was kissing her boyfriend while standing up. Kendra says, “They better sit down before they fall.”
Can someone please explain to me the big deal with the royal wedding? I have no interest in the royal family and don’t understand why people in this country still do. For some of you, this might come as a surprise, but way back in 1776, we declared our independence from Great Britain so we don’t have any official ties to that country. I heard on the radio that the wedding costs 33 million dollars and the bride and groom want guests to make donations to charities instead of purchasing gifts. I’m assuming that the tax payers have to pay for the wedding? Here’s a crazy thought, cut costs a little, like two million dollars, and take that money and donate it to charities for kids or for services for people with disabilities.
The tv show The Office is one of my favorite shows of all time. The main character Michael Scott, played brilliantly by Steve Carrell has left the show. In fact his final episode aired last Thursday. What I most enjoy about this show is the characters actually seem like they are real and while the Michael Scott character says and does things that makes me cringe as a boss, he had a genuine concern for his employees that you often don’t see in real life. I find myself wondering how well the show will do without him. I think it will be fine as the show seems to have excellent writers.
My six year old daughter was watching icarly on Nickelodeon. At a point in the show, Carly was kissing her boyfriend while standing up. Kendra says, “They better sit down before they fall.”
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Competition continued
I was at my parents home over this past weekend. This was the first time I had seen my dad since I found out he had cancer. He seems to be doing fine, but is more tired then usual. He has decided to give up golf primarily because after 40 years of golfing the PGA hasn’t called him yet and by now doesn’t figure they are going to.
When I had a few minutes alone I asked him how he is really feeling, I ask him to not give me any B.S. as I want the truth. He looks at me almost insulted and says, “I feel fine, when have you ever known me to lie?” I told him never but that I could see him not telling anyone how he feels because he doesn’t want anyone to worry about him. To this he says, “Well I might do that.” Jerk!
Speaking of competition, one of my buddies and I used to frequently play each other in video games. We would typically play anything where the object was to shoot each other. From time to time we would have a third person join us. This was way before playing video games online was the hip thing to do. So in my living room that was maybe half the size of the sun room, there would be three tv’s that were at least 27 inches or larger, three Xboxes (the original model) and cords everywhere.
My friend that I did and still do play with is like a brother to me. We have respect for each other as human beings and as friends and don’t ever cross the line with what we say to each other. If we do, the other person let’s them know.
What’s funny though is that when we play video games together, the respect, the courtesies, the kindness, disappears. We use language towards each other that would probably make a sailor’s toes curl and often end up creating our own curse words. My wife, who doesn’t like video games at all, would listen to us and laugh.
One time, I was giving him a particular good ass wupin’ and I see him biting his xbox controller. I am not lying about this, he is actually biting his controller. I laugh hysterically (it is much easier to find things funny when you are winning).
When I lose, which really wasn’t very often, I have a string of seven swear words that don’t really even make sense when they are used together in the same sentence. One day I sent my buddy a text message with those seven words for no reason. The response I got was, “I miss that.”
I’ve often wondered why the tempers flare so much and the only explanation I can figure is something like how brothers hate to lose to brothers. Although I haven’t been able to get him to play me lately, we have fun in our epic video game battles. I’m pretty sure he is scared of the ‘gunshow’ I bring him to each time we play.
When I had a few minutes alone I asked him how he is really feeling, I ask him to not give me any B.S. as I want the truth. He looks at me almost insulted and says, “I feel fine, when have you ever known me to lie?” I told him never but that I could see him not telling anyone how he feels because he doesn’t want anyone to worry about him. To this he says, “Well I might do that.” Jerk!
Speaking of competition, one of my buddies and I used to frequently play each other in video games. We would typically play anything where the object was to shoot each other. From time to time we would have a third person join us. This was way before playing video games online was the hip thing to do. So in my living room that was maybe half the size of the sun room, there would be three tv’s that were at least 27 inches or larger, three Xboxes (the original model) and cords everywhere.
My friend that I did and still do play with is like a brother to me. We have respect for each other as human beings and as friends and don’t ever cross the line with what we say to each other. If we do, the other person let’s them know.
What’s funny though is that when we play video games together, the respect, the courtesies, the kindness, disappears. We use language towards each other that would probably make a sailor’s toes curl and often end up creating our own curse words. My wife, who doesn’t like video games at all, would listen to us and laugh.
One time, I was giving him a particular good ass wupin’ and I see him biting his xbox controller. I am not lying about this, he is actually biting his controller. I laugh hysterically (it is much easier to find things funny when you are winning).
When I lose, which really wasn’t very often, I have a string of seven swear words that don’t really even make sense when they are used together in the same sentence. One day I sent my buddy a text message with those seven words for no reason. The response I got was, “I miss that.”
I’ve often wondered why the tempers flare so much and the only explanation I can figure is something like how brothers hate to lose to brothers. Although I haven’t been able to get him to play me lately, we have fun in our epic video game battles. I’m pretty sure he is scared of the ‘gunshow’ I bring him to each time we play.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Competing
If you have ever seen the movie Grown-ups with Adam Sandler (it’s an ok flick), you will remember how it ends. Adam Sandler purposely, misses a basketball shot, so his childhood archrival can win the game and to teach his son a lesson about building character or something unimportant . I said to my wife the other day, there is no way on God’s green earth that I would purposely miss that shot. I also told her what I would be trying to teach my kids, in the same situation is that we work hard, we do our best, and if that means we win 100 out of 100 times, so be it.
I asked a few of my friends what they would do in the same situation, one said it would be ‘hard to take a dive’ another said ‘you and me are way too competitive to try to lose’ and my friend Jeff said, “That’s a good movie.” Jeff is as sharp as a tack isn’t he?
My hate of losing, is it due to a lack of confidence in my abilities? I would say not anymore, quite possibly when I was younger. When I play sports, I have a difficult time balancing team success with personal success. Obviously, winning is everything (as long as you do it fairly). I want the team to win but I also don’t want to stink the place up with my performance.
When a person realizes they are hurting the team’s chances of obtaining their goal it takes a certain amount of confidence to say ‘today I am not good enough.’ I have done this, but it was probably more out of frustration in my own performance. Am I a true team player? No I guess not. It’s a struggle for me as my competitive nature drives me to want to succeed and I can’t succeed if I am not on the field. So what’s more important, team or individual success? Of course team success (but I also want to do well and get my fair share of playing time). In the book Five Dysfunctions of a Team, the author talks about sacrificing the individual accomplishments for the greater good of the team.
If you asked me, “Mitch would you rather be a major contributing factor to a softball team that doesn’t win a game all season or sit the bench on a team that goes to the national tournament?” If I gave my team the best chance to win by sitting the bench, I would do it but I wouldn’t like it. I’m not sure I would want to continue to be on that team. I didn’t sign up to ride the bench all season. It’s a fine line on being selfish and a team’s best interest. I played on a team where we didn’t win a game all season and that was probably the most fun I’ve ever had playing softball.
The competitiveness is written into the Davide genetic code. This couldn’t have been more obvious to me than at Christmas. My wife and kids, my folks, and my sister, her husband and two kids were playing Christmas Bingo. We started off laughing and joking and having a good time with it. As people started to win, you could see the focus, drive and competitive nature between my dad, my sister and I tighten. Each time my wife called out a spot on the bingo board (G candy cane) the air thickened with anticipation, the tension became greater. The kids kept right on talking away, having fun as they see each other once every two years. Not the three of us. My wife asked me to get our baby a snack but of course I said no as this game was important. We put down our chex mix, our bottles of Mountain Dew, our caramel corn hoping we would be the one to win that coveted $0.50 notebook that had a picture of a unicorn on the front out of the prize basket. Man, do I love unicorns.
Jody calls out O Santa. My nephew Sam yells out “Merry Christmas” (we say that instead of Bingo). I swear louder then I wanted and Sam asks me why I cussed when he won. I told him that I was glad that he won and didn’t swear because I didn’t want him to win. I thought of explaining to him how competing is written into our blood and as he gets older he will be the same way. I chose not to though because it was after all, Christmas.
I watch to see what Sam takes out of the prize basket. I thought about hiding the notebook cuz I love me some unicorns. Sam takes a king size candy bar, Kit-Kat, I’m not too happy about that either as that is my favorite. But at least the note book is still in the mix.
As Jody calls out the first letter ‘B stocking’ I look down and see the unicorn notebook hoping that I can win it. The game continues and I keep checking everyone’s card.
Each one Jody calls I have, I am on freaking fire and I’m now one spot away from winning, I just need N Christmas tree. My sister has one spot open as well. I can’t quite see what it is as she’s hiding her card from me. I tell my wife to hurry it along and she pays no attention to the statement. She calls out N Christmas tree and I’m the only one who says Merry Christmas. I take the notebook and see my daughter Kendra is sad because she hasn’t won yet.
Here’s my dilemma, I could:
A. give her the notebook
B. tell her to toughen up and keep playing
Decisions, decisions, decisions. I hand the notebook to Kendra who says, “Thanks Daddy” and gives me a big hug. As I hug her back, I think of what I just learned from my six year old daughter. I say to her, “No Kendra, thank you”
I asked a few of my friends what they would do in the same situation, one said it would be ‘hard to take a dive’ another said ‘you and me are way too competitive to try to lose’ and my friend Jeff said, “That’s a good movie.” Jeff is as sharp as a tack isn’t he?
My hate of losing, is it due to a lack of confidence in my abilities? I would say not anymore, quite possibly when I was younger. When I play sports, I have a difficult time balancing team success with personal success. Obviously, winning is everything (as long as you do it fairly). I want the team to win but I also don’t want to stink the place up with my performance.
When a person realizes they are hurting the team’s chances of obtaining their goal it takes a certain amount of confidence to say ‘today I am not good enough.’ I have done this, but it was probably more out of frustration in my own performance. Am I a true team player? No I guess not. It’s a struggle for me as my competitive nature drives me to want to succeed and I can’t succeed if I am not on the field. So what’s more important, team or individual success? Of course team success (but I also want to do well and get my fair share of playing time). In the book Five Dysfunctions of a Team, the author talks about sacrificing the individual accomplishments for the greater good of the team.
If you asked me, “Mitch would you rather be a major contributing factor to a softball team that doesn’t win a game all season or sit the bench on a team that goes to the national tournament?” If I gave my team the best chance to win by sitting the bench, I would do it but I wouldn’t like it. I’m not sure I would want to continue to be on that team. I didn’t sign up to ride the bench all season. It’s a fine line on being selfish and a team’s best interest. I played on a team where we didn’t win a game all season and that was probably the most fun I’ve ever had playing softball.
The competitiveness is written into the Davide genetic code. This couldn’t have been more obvious to me than at Christmas. My wife and kids, my folks, and my sister, her husband and two kids were playing Christmas Bingo. We started off laughing and joking and having a good time with it. As people started to win, you could see the focus, drive and competitive nature between my dad, my sister and I tighten. Each time my wife called out a spot on the bingo board (G candy cane) the air thickened with anticipation, the tension became greater. The kids kept right on talking away, having fun as they see each other once every two years. Not the three of us. My wife asked me to get our baby a snack but of course I said no as this game was important. We put down our chex mix, our bottles of Mountain Dew, our caramel corn hoping we would be the one to win that coveted $0.50 notebook that had a picture of a unicorn on the front out of the prize basket. Man, do I love unicorns.
Jody calls out O Santa. My nephew Sam yells out “Merry Christmas” (we say that instead of Bingo). I swear louder then I wanted and Sam asks me why I cussed when he won. I told him that I was glad that he won and didn’t swear because I didn’t want him to win. I thought of explaining to him how competing is written into our blood and as he gets older he will be the same way. I chose not to though because it was after all, Christmas.
I watch to see what Sam takes out of the prize basket. I thought about hiding the notebook cuz I love me some unicorns. Sam takes a king size candy bar, Kit-Kat, I’m not too happy about that either as that is my favorite. But at least the note book is still in the mix.
As Jody calls out the first letter ‘B stocking’ I look down and see the unicorn notebook hoping that I can win it. The game continues and I keep checking everyone’s card.
Each one Jody calls I have, I am on freaking fire and I’m now one spot away from winning, I just need N Christmas tree. My sister has one spot open as well. I can’t quite see what it is as she’s hiding her card from me. I tell my wife to hurry it along and she pays no attention to the statement. She calls out N Christmas tree and I’m the only one who says Merry Christmas. I take the notebook and see my daughter Kendra is sad because she hasn’t won yet.
Here’s my dilemma, I could:
A. give her the notebook
B. tell her to toughen up and keep playing
Decisions, decisions, decisions. I hand the notebook to Kendra who says, “Thanks Daddy” and gives me a big hug. As I hug her back, I think of what I just learned from my six year old daughter. I say to her, “No Kendra, thank you”
Friday, March 4, 2011
Inspirational video
I watched this today. It was awesome....talk about a selfless act and making some kids feel good. Please watch
http://www.godvine.com/An-Unforgettable-Football-Game-Gives-Hope-279.html
http://www.godvine.com/An-Unforgettable-Football-Game-Gives-Hope-279.html
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Question of the day...
If they made a movie about your life, what actor would play you? Leave comments on who that might be.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Hero's
Based on some of my earlier blog entries, it is evident I enjoy super hero’s. I like what they stand for, I like to read that even with their super powers, they still have some of the same struggles that you non-super humans have.
When I was four years old (or was it a month ago), I was at the barbershop getting a haircut, I remember asking the barber, "How come Superman doesn't have to get a haircut?"
I believe that the true measure of a man is how big his heart is, how freely he gives of himself to those who are in need or are less fortunate.
My dad was never the perfect father, but who is. As a pre-kindergartner I remember running out to greet him when he got home from work. I can still hear him say, “Hi buddddy!”. As I grew into my teens, I always became nervous around him as I knew he wasn’t very patient. I felt I had to always get something done faster in order to not upset him. In high school, a common ground my dad and I had was sports. I was fortunate to letter in three sports so this gave us the opportunity to always have something to talk about.
My parents but, especially my dad attended just about every athletic event I was involved in from the time I was a freshman through my senior year. I remember thinking it wasn’t a big deal if they were there or not but looking back, I appreciate it more than words. My mom and dad regularly drove two to four hours for either a football game, basketball game or a track meet and many of the other player’s parents weren’t as supportive as my folks. I think the only football games they ever missed was one game during my junior year (and I happen to get two interceptions) and one game during my senior year (when I scored my only varsity touchdown). In my senior year of basketball, I rarely got off the bench. But there they were, in the stands, supporting me, cheering for me and my team.
My dad has a series of books that he read when he was a kid. The later books in the series are quite rare and are valued at a small fortune. The main character’s name is Chip Hilton. Chip was your squeaky clean all American boy who was a terrific athlete, straight A student, worked part time as a ‘soda jerk’ and lived at home with his mom (his dad had passed away). Each book in the series focused on an event involving a sport. I think dad always wanted me to be like Chip, in another life I think dad may have wanted to be Chip himself. Anyways, I read the books when I was in 8th grade and I remember the look on his face when he found out I was reading them. My son Landen has now started to read them.
One of the things I’ve enjoyed about adulthood is the opportunity to get to know my dad as a person and not just my dad. With each passing day, I think I become more and more like him. Sometimes when I say something I find I’m asking myself when the hell did I turn into my father.
Dad didn’t have the best home life as a child. He was an only child and was home alone most of the time. By today’s standards, it would probably be considered neglect. When he was nine years old and living in Omaha Nebraska, he apparently waited at a bus stop for the bus. When he boarded the bus he handed the bus driver a piece of paper that had his grandparents address on it and said he wanted to go visit them. My grandmother at work receives a phone call from her mother asking if she and my grandfather wanted to eat dinner at their house. My grandmother indicated they had plans or something as to which her mother said, “Well you may as well eat dinner with us as Bobby is already here.” My dad, all of 9 years old took a city bus across town in Omaha Nebraska to visit his grandparents.
I think what I admire most about my dad is his stubbornness/determination (I’m not sure who is more stubborn, my dad or my wife). He admitted he was an alcoholic when I was 14 and has never had a drink since. He realized how much money he was spending on cigarettes and quit approximately three years ago. That takes guts.
Dad did the best he could to make my sister and my life better then his was. Looking back I wish we would have done more things as a family. Dad has several times apologized for this and had said it was because of his drinking that we couldn’t or didn’t do more things. I always tell him that it doesn’t matter as he is a different person and he and mom did the best they could.
As I’ve already said, sports have impacted both of our lives and have influenced us and our relationship. Prior to my freshman year of high school, I needed new football shoes. Dad told me that he just didn’t have the money. Years later he told me he was at the bar drinking around this time and he was telling his drinking buddies he didn’t have money to buy me football shoes. One of his drinking buddies pointed out that he can afford to sit at the bar and drink but he can’t afford to buy me football shoes. He said this was one of the reasons he chose to stop drinking.
The first sentence of this blog rings true for my dad. He would do anything for his kids and loves his grand kids more than life itself. I tell my kids that grandma may be the ‘easy’ one, but grandpa will give you the moon. I now call my dad my friend, I call my dad my hero.
I found out on last week that my dad, my hero has lung cancer.
I’ve smoked one cigarette since.
When I was four years old (or was it a month ago), I was at the barbershop getting a haircut, I remember asking the barber, "How come Superman doesn't have to get a haircut?"
I believe that the true measure of a man is how big his heart is, how freely he gives of himself to those who are in need or are less fortunate.
My dad was never the perfect father, but who is. As a pre-kindergartner I remember running out to greet him when he got home from work. I can still hear him say, “Hi buddddy!”. As I grew into my teens, I always became nervous around him as I knew he wasn’t very patient. I felt I had to always get something done faster in order to not upset him. In high school, a common ground my dad and I had was sports. I was fortunate to letter in three sports so this gave us the opportunity to always have something to talk about.
My parents but, especially my dad attended just about every athletic event I was involved in from the time I was a freshman through my senior year. I remember thinking it wasn’t a big deal if they were there or not but looking back, I appreciate it more than words. My mom and dad regularly drove two to four hours for either a football game, basketball game or a track meet and many of the other player’s parents weren’t as supportive as my folks. I think the only football games they ever missed was one game during my junior year (and I happen to get two interceptions) and one game during my senior year (when I scored my only varsity touchdown). In my senior year of basketball, I rarely got off the bench. But there they were, in the stands, supporting me, cheering for me and my team.
My dad has a series of books that he read when he was a kid. The later books in the series are quite rare and are valued at a small fortune. The main character’s name is Chip Hilton. Chip was your squeaky clean all American boy who was a terrific athlete, straight A student, worked part time as a ‘soda jerk’ and lived at home with his mom (his dad had passed away). Each book in the series focused on an event involving a sport. I think dad always wanted me to be like Chip, in another life I think dad may have wanted to be Chip himself. Anyways, I read the books when I was in 8th grade and I remember the look on his face when he found out I was reading them. My son Landen has now started to read them.
One of the things I’ve enjoyed about adulthood is the opportunity to get to know my dad as a person and not just my dad. With each passing day, I think I become more and more like him. Sometimes when I say something I find I’m asking myself when the hell did I turn into my father.
Dad didn’t have the best home life as a child. He was an only child and was home alone most of the time. By today’s standards, it would probably be considered neglect. When he was nine years old and living in Omaha Nebraska, he apparently waited at a bus stop for the bus. When he boarded the bus he handed the bus driver a piece of paper that had his grandparents address on it and said he wanted to go visit them. My grandmother at work receives a phone call from her mother asking if she and my grandfather wanted to eat dinner at their house. My grandmother indicated they had plans or something as to which her mother said, “Well you may as well eat dinner with us as Bobby is already here.” My dad, all of 9 years old took a city bus across town in Omaha Nebraska to visit his grandparents.
I think what I admire most about my dad is his stubbornness/determination (I’m not sure who is more stubborn, my dad or my wife). He admitted he was an alcoholic when I was 14 and has never had a drink since. He realized how much money he was spending on cigarettes and quit approximately three years ago. That takes guts.
Dad did the best he could to make my sister and my life better then his was. Looking back I wish we would have done more things as a family. Dad has several times apologized for this and had said it was because of his drinking that we couldn’t or didn’t do more things. I always tell him that it doesn’t matter as he is a different person and he and mom did the best they could.
As I’ve already said, sports have impacted both of our lives and have influenced us and our relationship. Prior to my freshman year of high school, I needed new football shoes. Dad told me that he just didn’t have the money. Years later he told me he was at the bar drinking around this time and he was telling his drinking buddies he didn’t have money to buy me football shoes. One of his drinking buddies pointed out that he can afford to sit at the bar and drink but he can’t afford to buy me football shoes. He said this was one of the reasons he chose to stop drinking.
The first sentence of this blog rings true for my dad. He would do anything for his kids and loves his grand kids more than life itself. I tell my kids that grandma may be the ‘easy’ one, but grandpa will give you the moon. I now call my dad my friend, I call my dad my hero.
I found out on last week that my dad, my hero has lung cancer.
I’ve smoked one cigarette since.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Even More Bits....
My six year old says to me the other day, "Daddy, I'm going to tell you a couple of things I learned in school today." I love hearing about this stuff as the kindergarten mind is like a sponge. Anyways I heard all about how you should stay away from power lines.
Kendra has a friend named Ruby in her kindergarten class. As we were waiting to pick up the other kids from school yesterday, I hear this little voice from the back of my mini-van, "Daddy, Ruby puked in school today."
When Kaylie was three, her mom and brother were driving someplace. Jody hears Landen (who was probably four or five at the time) say, "Mommy, Kaylie just swore." Before Jody even had a chance to ask her about this, Kaylie says, "Mommy, I not say 'shit'."
Kendra has a friend named Ruby in her kindergarten class. As we were waiting to pick up the other kids from school yesterday, I hear this little voice from the back of my mini-van, "Daddy, Ruby puked in school today."
When Kaylie was three, her mom and brother were driving someplace. Jody hears Landen (who was probably four or five at the time) say, "Mommy, Kaylie just swore." Before Jody even had a chance to ask her about this, Kaylie says, "Mommy, I not say 'shit'."
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
More Bits....
It seems no matter how stressful of a day I have, when I get home from work and see my one year old daughter smile at me, I feel peace.
No matter how difficult a day I have, when I hear my twelve year old son joke with the other kids, I'm right where I want to be.
It makes no difference the struggles I work through, when I make my six year old giggle, I feel warm inside.
It doesn't matter how tough life is, when my nine year old tells me about her school day, I know I'm making a difference in her life.
It doesn't matter I'm overwhelmed with life, when my other twelve year old son says thank you for the smallest things, I know I have a good kid.
No matter how difficult a day I have, when I hear my twelve year old son joke with the other kids, I'm right where I want to be.
It makes no difference the struggles I work through, when I make my six year old giggle, I feel warm inside.
It doesn't matter how tough life is, when my nine year old tells me about her school day, I know I'm making a difference in her life.
It doesn't matter I'm overwhelmed with life, when my other twelve year old son says thank you for the smallest things, I know I have a good kid.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Bits....
The other day my six year old (Kendra) and my nine year old (Kaylie) were outside playing in the snow. Kendra slid down a big snow hill on her butt and apparently hit an ice chunk and injured her rear end. From all reports she was crying pretty hard. Kaylie was trying to consol her. Here’s where it gets a little foggy, but as she was crying and Kaylie was helping her a chunk of snot flew out of Kendra and into Kaylie’s mouth.
I didn’t hear about it until hours later.
Jody bought groceries last weekend. A rule at our house is that we can only have two open boxes of cereal at a time. Well, Jody bought Fruity and Cocoa Pebbles, two favorites in the Davide household. Since then we’ve been Cheerios eating fools. I had a large bowl (I used to eat cereal out of a soup pan. The logic behind this was it had a handle so your hand wouldn’t get cold and it holds a ton of cereal) and Landen and Kaylie have had a minimum of two bowls each for a bedtime snack.
Last night for my bedtime snack I had Cocoa Pebbles.
Over Christmas I was able to spend time with my sister and husband and their two sons. It has been two years since I had seen my nephews. Shortly after they arrived, Andrew who is 8 says to my mom, “Grandma Kathy, I wear deodorant now” My nephew Sam got the coolest nerf gun ever! Fully automatic and each clip has 18 bullets. I wish I was a kid again.
I didn’t hear about it until hours later.
Jody bought groceries last weekend. A rule at our house is that we can only have two open boxes of cereal at a time. Well, Jody bought Fruity and Cocoa Pebbles, two favorites in the Davide household. Since then we’ve been Cheerios eating fools. I had a large bowl (I used to eat cereal out of a soup pan. The logic behind this was it had a handle so your hand wouldn’t get cold and it holds a ton of cereal) and Landen and Kaylie have had a minimum of two bowls each for a bedtime snack.
Last night for my bedtime snack I had Cocoa Pebbles.
Over Christmas I was able to spend time with my sister and husband and their two sons. It has been two years since I had seen my nephews. Shortly after they arrived, Andrew who is 8 says to my mom, “Grandma Kathy, I wear deodorant now” My nephew Sam got the coolest nerf gun ever! Fully automatic and each clip has 18 bullets. I wish I was a kid again.
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