Dear Mr. President, (no, not that one)

Ok, so I may be alone on this one, but I hate when people wear other universities logos on our campus. Especially when it is a staff or faculty member! So, imagine my dismay when I opened a campus newsletter where there is a section highlighting the achievements of some faculty members, and in one of the photos a faculty member is wearing a University of Miami (FL) hat! (no offense to my FL friends and family).

I only have one dress code rule to my minions (students and staff who were unfortunate enough to draw me as their supervisor): No university logos other than ours!

This seems to happen all to often, so I went overboard and sent my rant in e-mail form to WMU's president, John M. Dunn. Too much? Maybe. You be the judge. Here is the letter and his response:

>>> 9/11/2009 10:28 AM >>>
Dr. Dunn,
I am a proud member of the WMU community as a full time staff
member of the University Libraries. I have been a staunch supporter
of our University since joining this community as a student in 1997.
I have seen some highs and lows on this campus in those many years,
and I feel like right now we are poised to shoot up to new heights.
Let me first say that I appreciate the job you have done since
taking over for the late great Deither H. Haenicke. Moral seems to
be up, the profile of the university is up, and things seem to be
heading in the right direction.

I have somewhat of an axe to grind and I am wondering if my topic
might be on your radar. My issue is with members of our WMU family
(students, staff, and faculty alike) wearing apparel from other
universities, especially while representing WMU to the greater
community. Case in point, when reading the Western News September 10
edition, I see on page three a nice paragraph highlighting the
achievements of one of our own faculty members, Mr. G. Micheal
Grammer. In the picture provided Mr. Grammer is wearing a hat from
the University of Miami (FL).

This strikes me as rather odd. If I worked for Pizza Hut, I
wouldn't show up wearing a Dominos hat. Not to mention that Pizza
Hut does not recruit employees in direct competition with Dominos. I
don't think that Mr. Grammer had ill intent while choosing his head
wear, and most of our WMU family don't even realize the implications
of wearing another universities logo. They may have grown up in a
household that lived for watching another universities football
team, or maybe a parent or sibling attends this other university.

However, I think it sends a bad message to our students when even
the faculty seem to hold other institutions above our own. I think
WMU tends to struggle with national recognition, branding, image,
and credit. We are a world class university, yet our logo is no more
recognizable to the world than that of a small town community
college.

It is my belief that a strong message of support for wearing and
promoting the WMU brand come from your office. I would also like to
see a policy that mandates all university employees wear only WMU
logo apparel while at work or representing WMU in public. Especially
printed materials such as news papers. Don't we offer free head
shots to all staff? Seems like Mr. Grammers picture was taken from
his facebook account.

I have also noticed a large number of freshman coming to campus
with their favorite university apparel. Again, there is nothing
wrong with supporting other universities, in fact we should partner
with them to strengthen our impact on society. I would however like
to see some sort of initiative to get students to buy into being a
Bronco. Some program that would encourage them to retire other
university wear. Maybe give a discount or a one for one trade for
Bronco gear. Turn in your UofM shirt, get a free Bronco shirt!
Promote us, and encourage esprit de corp at the same time.

I hope I don't come off as some curmudgeon, and I thank you for
taking the time to review my rant. If nothing else, I at least feel
better for having voiced my concern. I will share with you one final
observation. As I walked through Sangren Hall the other day I was
shocked to see a custodian dutifully mopping the floor while wearing
a Notre Dame hat. Should that not have been a Bronco hat?

Thank you, and keep up the good work!


--


Sincerely,
Randall S James

Server Administrator
University Libraries
Western Michigan University
o: (269) 387-5038
c: (269) 720-2312
Randall.James@wmich.edu

The response:

Randall:

Thank you for your note. I concur 100% with your comments.
Whenever I see one of our students wearing a hat or t-shirt from
another school, I stopped and kid them about "our place" and the
need to demonstrate pride. I also reinforce faculty and staff for
showing the "colors". Please be assured that I will continue to
do so.

Enjoy the weekend,

John

John M. Dunn
President
Western Michigan University
Office of the President
3065 Seibert Administration
Kalamazoo, MI 49008
Office: 269-387-2351
Fax: 269-387-2355
Email: john.dunn@wmich.edu

Not exactly a ringing endorsement of my harsh but needed policy, but hey, I'll take it. At least he agrees with me. Not that it will do much good, but I feel better about it!
Go Broncos!

By the way, we refer to the University of Miami followed by (FL) to designate it as the Hurricanes due to the University of Miami in Ohio. The latter being a school in our athletic conference. Not sure why the larger Miami institution needs the state designation, but that is the way they do it on ESPN, so it has to be correct...

Man Skillz

A while back there was an article in Esquire by one of my favorite fiction/opinion authors Tom Chiarella (fiction editor for Esquire). It was called "The 75 Skills Every Man Should Master". It had some interesting things in it, some of which I know how to do, some not so much. Others were a little off the wall, and I think he was just going for entertainment or fluff to fill the "75".

Regardless, there are a few things that I have attempted to master in my life, and I shall spew a few tips and techniques here. Lets start with one of the manliest.

Man Skill #1: Working on cars
It is something that has always been a part of my life, wrenching on things in the garage with my dad. What could be more manly than trying to squeeze a few extra horses out of a 5.0 liter engine? *Manly grunting sound*. Now, it is not really all that necessary for every man to be able to correctly adjust the timing on a 1968 Windsor small block 302, or to know that most of those engines were actually built in Cleveland, OH. It is however, in my humble opinion, necessary for every man to know how to do general maintenance on their vehicle.

Change the air filter, don't let the quick oil change shop charge you $20 to replace a $5 filter. For that matter, change the oil yourself. Top off the fluids, rotate the tires, change a flat tire. These are the bare minimums of auto ownership. Personally, I replace brake pads, dead fuel pumps (in and out of the tank), serpentine belts, alternators and more.

Man skill #2: Master the grill
This is crucial. Say you are having a party and everyone is hanging out, getting hungrier by the minute. You fire up the grill and nervously stack the meat, wondering if it will turn out more like shoe leather than a juicy, delicious, tender steak. Poking at the meat until it seems "done enough", you pull it off too early or too late. Not good.

To grill the perfect steak is more art than science, but it is something that can be mastered with practice. Here is how I do it: Start with good meat. A nice marinade or grilling salt will help as well. Heat the grill as hot as it can get. Pop the steak on and let the grill sear the meat. This will lock in the juices. Let it sit for about 30 seconds, then give it a 1/4 turn. This will give it the "x" style professional grill marks. Flip and repeat. Next, turn the heat down and slowly cook the steaks. Roughly five minutes per side, depending on how done you want it and thickness of the steak. Do not poke, smush, or mutilate the meat in any fashion. Close the lid! "If you're looking, you ain't cookin!" They make handy thermometers that will tell you internal temp and how done it is. To see my last article on grilling, which subsequently prompted my dad to get me a meat thermometer, look in the archives for the post entitled "Americana" or click here:

Man Skill #3: Tie a tie
This may sound simple, but it goes a long way when dressing to impress. There are several types of knots you can choose from, and styles have varied greatly over the years. Recently the wide knots style like the Windsor or my personal favorite the Four in Hand have made a comeback. Please don't tie a skinny tie, wear a piano keyboard design, or use a clip on. To learn the Windsor, click here:

Man Skill #4: Kill spiders
Man up. This is our job fellas. I know some people that freak out when confronted by a spider...Ehhhhmmm, names withheld to protect the innocent. Granted, no one really wants to get bug guts all over, but however you do it you will be considered a hero to those in the room. My personal favorite is the quick and deadly approach. Grab a tissue to keep it clean and save those around you from the horror of spider juice on the wall. Move swiftly and directly. Catch the spider and smash it. Be sure not to let it escape as this will cause pandemonium. Remove the spider from the room ASAP.

Man Skill #5: Start a fire with twigs and a Bic
Nothing is more manly than the ability to start a blazing camp fire with out assistance from what my dad calls boyscout fire starter fluid (usually gasoline or lighter fluid). Find small dry twigs and snap them up into a pile on top of some dry grass or pine needles (these will take off fast and easy, but won't burn for long). Build a tee-pee of small dry sticks around that, making sure that the flames from the twigs will reach the larger wood. This allows for the three main elements of fire; air, heat, and fuel, to thrive. Light the grass and twigs and gently blow on them until they are burning without help. Continue to feed it more twigs and grass until the sticks begin burning. Progressively add larger sticks and logs to the tee-pee until you have a large enough fire to not need constant attention.
Optional: Bust out the guitar and sing kumbaya. Loads of fun, just add beer.

Now I know that this article might come off as sexist. I am not suggesting that any of these things could not or should not be done by women. In fact, my wife could probably tell you more about your car than I can. However, limiting and sexist as it may sound, I still feel like these things fall mostly on the mans shoulders, and to be a mans man, these are skills you should master. If you don't already know all of these things, put the purse down and man up!

Location: Happily ever after

So I realize I have become a bit fixated on sappy love and happiness stuff of late, but it tends to be at the forefront of my conscience.Today marks the 5 year anniversary of our wedded lives so I am feeling sappy and nostalgic. Deal with it!

I continue to be amazed at the phenomenon that I have touched on previously. That being that no matter how 'on top of it' or 'in touch' you think you are, life has a funny way of showing you that you haven't got a clue.

When I look back at my relationship with my wife I am impressed with how it grows. Five years is sort of modest, yet in one sense it is also pretty impressive (given the divorce rate and quickie marriages).

I love how strong our bond is, and even though we have been together for 8 years (3 dating, 1 engaged, 5 married) we still love to spend time together.We are blessed to be best friends as well as partners. Seems like even given the vast amount of time spent together we can still come up with things to do and talk about. However, there are still things about my wife I may never know or understand.

If someone were to ask me, and I know you didn't, 'what's the secret to a happy marriage post honeymoon phase?' I would say a big part of it is this: effort. Both have to be willing to put in the work. You have to try hard to keep things fresh and interesting. Don't be afraid to try new things, reach out, demand the best, and most importantly know what you want and expect.

Anyone who read my semi-auto biography knows that years ago I learned it is impossible to be part of a successful couple until you can be a successful you. Until you know who you are.

All couples eb and flow. We have our ups and downs, and raising a daughter, while incredibly rewarding and worthwhile, makes it infinitely harder. But in those struggles you are reminded of what is most important to you and you work that much harder. Push for better.

I guess what I am saying is nothing goes according to plan. Even the best laid plans of mice and men go astray as John Steinbeck would remind us. But if you are willing to work hard you can end up with more than you ever dreamed possible.

A big key to a marriage is the ability to sit and talk for hours about nothing...or sit for hours and not talk. You each need to have your own interests and be able to just be content by being together.

I am no expert, and even though my wife calls me 'Dr. Phil' I am just drawing conclusions and sharing what is on my mind.

I can assure you though that no matter who you are, or what length relationship you are in, success starts with you. Resolve today to strive for more, it is never too late and you deserve it!

(Editors note: This was written at a bar after drinks with no spell check on a cell phone. Take it for what its worth!)

Randomness

Well, I have been certainly peppering this blog with posts lately. Seems I have renewed my zest. Here are a couple of thoughts I have this morning, in no particular order:

Jon & Kate + 8 = Does not add up. I am so sick of hearing about this family. At least they have taken the nations eyes off of the Octomom for a minute, but stop peppering me with the 'Drama' of the supposedly failing marriage between two people that never seemed to like each other very much anyway. Seriously, have you ever seen them? He is a bumbling idiot, and she has very little tolerance for him.

Now here is my problem, they are crying that the TV show is ruining their lives and invading their privacy. What? You seemed happy as a clam to let them in when the marriage was 'working' and don't tell me the $70k per episode they are paying you is not helping you swallow this bitter pill. By my count, they are well into the $4 million dollar range already, enough to end the show and raise all 8 kids comfortably for the rest of their lives.

It always grinds me when b-list, reality 'star' celebs start crying that their shows are ruining their lives. What did you expect? Having even one child puts a strain on even the strongest relationships, let alone multiple sets of multiples. Now you want to toss in some cameras and allow the world to watch? Have you never seen another reality show and how messed up the people are after it ends? Smells of greed and made up drama to me. Did I mention that the season premier drew a record audience once people heard that Jon was supposedly stepping out on poor Kate? Hmmmmm.....

If you really care, end the show, kick out the cameras and heal the wounds of your relationship. As always, my biggest concern with these types is that they are hurting the kids by being so reckless, but luckily these kids are young enough and seem to be enjoying themselves so there should not be any long term pain. That is unless the couple splits...divorce can get ugly. Who gets the 16 passenger van?

Next, I see that President Barrack Obama has made an appeal to the Muslim world to 'Start over'. He suggests that people the world over stand up and confront the radical extremists. While I applaud the president in his efforts, and I believe we really need some world collaboration against terror, I just don't see any sort of peaceful or short end to this problem.

The biggest issue is this; the terrorists are not asking for anything. That's right, they don't want land, they don't want money, they don't even want an apology. They just want to kill all infidels. How do you 'confront' that? What do you say to someone who has repeatedly demonstrated a willingness to kill you and or die trying? Confronting them is a good way to get dead, and getting dead will seriously hamper your efforts to end terrorism. Seems to me the only way to handle them is with the business end of a stealth drone aircraft armed with smart stingers...

Ah ha! Therein lies the problem then! When we kill them, we stoop to their level and prove their point. Our aggression only serves to strengthen their resolve and bolster their recruiting. This needs to be a smart war waged with diplomatic cunning and economic crushings (ie; cut off the money supply to the terrorists).

I do think that most people have incorrectly and unfairly labeled the Muslim world. It is not the Muslims as a whole who are doing this, but a relatively small subset of militant extremists devoid of logic and compassion. Don't judge the group based on the actions of a few.

I wish our Prez the best of luck, but he has a tall order.

...cold drink in hand

Part II of our vacation...

We hit Ft. Lauderdale beach at night for some drinks on the beach. While driving down the avenue before dark I remarked how it was too bad we would not be seeing a sunset. Kristy remarked something to the effect that it was too cloudy to see the sunset, knowing full well of course that the sun sets in the west and we were on the east coast, but it was too late. Kristy's gaffe was cemented. "Why is it we can't see a sunset on the east coast again Kristy?"

As we sat enjoying a cool breeze and some drinks, I mentioned the buoy at the edge of the swimming area was a nice touch. Chris corrected me and let me know that it was not a buoy, but a diving flag marking the spot where a diver was under the waves. I looked again and let him know I sure thought it looked like a buoy, but he insisted and I deferred to him given his status as a local.

The next day we hit Ft. Lauderdale beach for some fun in the sun. We took the water taxi on the intercoastal waterway and got off at Fat Tuesdays. The trip down the intercoastal was surreal. There were houses that were just redicerous. Some in the $100 million range. Our tour guide ticked off the listing prices and history of the area, not to mention the litany of famous people who owned them. Then there were the yahcts. Don't even get me started! One was a $14 mil ship given to a daughter as her 16th birthday present. We noticed a “for sale” sign on it, and just up the way was her new $30 mil beast. Seems the first was just not big enough. Chris at this point was actually starting to get mad. He kept saying, "look at that freaking house", only he didn't say "Freakin" (sorry, this is a family show).

So there we sat on the deck of Fat Tuesdays, overlooking A1A and counting the number of $70k and up cars that drove by. As Brandie glanced out over the water, guess what she saw? The diving flag turned out to be a buoy! We had some fun at Chris's expense for a while on this one! Gaffe number 2 for Chris...

After losing count of the expensive cars because there were too many to keep track of (seriously, I think Ft. Lauderdale has the largest amount of high priced cars per capita in the world), we headed down the beach to the world famous Elbow Room. I headed down to the beach and stuck my toes in the ocean. Can you believe I was the only one from our group to do that?

We had dinner at a couple of great restaurants, one was an Italian place called Buchas. This place was awesome! They took us through the kitchen on our way to our table (there was a table right in the kitchen as well, just in case you wanted to watch them make your dinner). The portions were massive. They had a "regular" and a "large" and it tells you right on the menu that regular feeds two and large feeds four. They were not kidding. I kept calling the place Bohica's which is an acronym for Bend Over Here It Comes Again.

The rest of the week was filled with relaxation by the pool, more fantastic meals at great restaurants and good times with good friends. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, so we boarded our plane and headed for Michigan. We were sad to leave, but looking forward to getting home to see our precious baby girl.

So, while I think that Ft. Lauderdale is the strip mall capital of the world, and the pace of life is a little faster than I would like, they make a strong case for being one of my favorite places in the world. Not quite ready to leave my beloved four seasons behind just yet, but you never know what the future holds.

Oh, and I bet I committed a verbal gaffe at some point, but that is the power of being the blogger, I don't have to remember what I did wrong! Also, Chris who normally does not get caught with many gaffes committed a record three whoppers this week. The crown jewel came when I was explaining what happens when I drink too much caffeine, I get heart palpitations. To which Chris responded, "You have a virgin baby circulatory system!" What? To be fair, he meant it to have a pause between virgin and baby, clearly not intending to link virginity to babies, but that did not stop us from ripping him for this one. So, virgins have week hearts huh?

Thanks so much Chris and Brandie for having us, and for the grandparents who split time taking care of our kids as well as the siblings who looked after pets. We had a blast, and hope to be back again soon!

Toes in the sand...

A couple weeks ago my wife and I had the privilege of visiting South Florida, and seeing some good friends of ours. Chris and Brandie are renting a nice little bungalow just outside of Ft. Lauderdale while they get re-acclimated to the area and look for a place to call their own.

These are our good friends who had moved to West Michigan for three years to be with his family and opened two franchise sandwich shops. Things did not work out, and they were sort of left holding the bag, so they moved back to where they belonged, close to family and out of the cold (lucky for us we get to visit!).

Here is part I of our week long visit:

It was so good to catch up with our friends and see a part of the state we had never been to, south and east. Man was it beautiful! The trip started with Brandie giving us a tour of the famous highway A1A, A.K.A. Beach Front Avenue (this is a line in one of Kristy's favorite rap songs from Vanilla Ice called "Ice Ice Baby"--That block was dead Yo, so I continued to a1a beachfront ave. We sang that the rest of the week).

We almost died twice in traffic, but were saved by Brandies expert South FL driving skills. People are crazy down there! We also noticed that there were no parking spots to be had, so we hit up one of Chris's favorite spots called Ricky's and had some wings and a cold beverage.

That night we got to see the restaurant that Chris manages called Anthony's Coal Fire Pizza. I highly recommend it! Great wings and pizza with a high class atmosphere at a budget friendly price.
http://www.anthonyscoalfiredpizza.com/
After he got home we went to a bar called Big Dawgs where the girls had something that resembled nachos...blech.

The next day we were up early and off to see the Keys. Man what a beautiful place. The ride down was long, but entertaining as we started in with our usual catching of each other in verbal gaffes (the most infamous and perhaps the one that started our obsession with teasing each other for gaffes was the first one ever two years ago. It was Brandie and it involved Bill Parcels, but it is not fit to print here). Chris was the first one caught. As he excitedly chronicled the history of the Key's he began to tell us how at least 50 presidents had visited. There was a moment of silence, then Kristy nailed him, "Uh, Chris, isn't Obama the 44th president?" The rest of the trip was filled with, "This is nice, and I’ll bet all 50 presidents enjoyed it!"

The houses were amazing, the atmosphere laid back, the water the most gorgeous colors of blues and greens I have ever seen (that includes Cancun, Jamaica, North Carolina and other parts of Florida). Our first stop was at Kokomo, as the Beach Boys would tell you, "In the Florida Keys, there's a place called Kokomo. That's where we wanna go, to get away from it all."

It was "Bartenders Bash", a sort of spring break for the service industry people who were working serving drinks to the spring breakers a couple weeks before. There were painted on bathing suits, beads, sun and sand. What a way to unwind. The free beer stopped flowing early, so we "Kept on pursuing to the next stop", Key West!

What can I say about Key West? Well, Chris put it this way; it's like New Orleans without the smell. I have never been to NOLA, so I will defer to Chris, but man is this a great place. Duval St was the place to be. All of the bars had an open air feel, there was music being played by guys with guitars, the drinks were flowing, and the sun was shining. We had conch fritters and peel-n-eat shrimp at our first stop, Sloppy Joe's. Mmmmm delish!

As we were leaving I still had a beer in my hand. Not knowing the rules I thought I would head for the door and see what would happen. Sure enough, somebody stopped me. As I started to hand my beer over the man at the door stuck out a plastic cup. "Here is a cup to take your beer to go!" What? I think I love this place!

We wandered around, drinking beer, swapping stories, smoking cigars, and just having a blast. When we strolled into Rick's Cafe there was a man on stage with an acoustic guitar, and I headed straight for him. I negotiated my way on stage, but he would not let me play his guitar (he said it was a $9k instrument, so I don't blame him). I settled for singing while he played Jimmy Buffets Margaritaville, a classic favorite of my friends. When I was done he pointed out the live webcam feed and some viewers online were leaving flattering messages about my singing. Felt pretty good.

There we met a local named Andy. He was born in Key West, covered in hair and full of stories. He was a ladies’ man who told us about his most recent wife while hitting on the bar tender. What a guy.


We had a fantastic dinner out on the deck at Fogerty's. I had the freshest grouper I have ever tasted (ok, it was the first taste of grouper, but it was fresh!) and Chris insisted we try the key lime pie. That's good pie!

Later we stumbled into the Lazy Gecko where people were watching hockey and another guy was playing guitar. Almost immediately my friends informed him that I play guitar, and it was not long before I was on the stool in front of the mic. Someone shouted a request for House of the Rising Sun, so I started playing Margaritavile. At the end of a long day of drinking I could not remember anything else, so that was the end of my brief career as a performer in Key West.

The next morning we got a tip for a great little place to have breakfast. It was a little shack that had been around since the turn of the century, and yes, I bet all 50 presidents had breakfast there. The decor was eclectic, the food greasy spoon, and it was fantastic! We had mimosas to go with our omelets and corned beef hash.
After breakfast we hit the southernmost point of the continental U.S. for a photo op, did some shopping, and hit the road back home. What a great time.

Our begrudging departure from the Key's next...

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...Part III

We continue with the series of my semi-auto biographical memoir-ish story of my life as I recall it...

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After


Part III:

We were all hanging out at the girls' favorite spot, the pool hall known as Ques-n-Brews. On the way back to the apartment, we were sitting in the back seat together, and she put her hand on my knee. Subtle, I know. But it was huge to me. I had been playing it cool, not wanting to push and scare her off, and not wanting to end up with just another empty relationship. It turns out, that was the only way this would have happened.

One night early on in the relationship, Kristy had made it clear to me what she thought of men. It was not pretty. I wanted to crawl into a hole, after first apologizing on behalf of my sex...morons. It seems that she had been through quite a lot of creeps, idiots, and downright jerks on her journey to me. I already looked great in comparison, but it was clear that she was not ready to have another relationship.

She was nothing like anyone I had ever met. She held a power over me so great that I would have back stroked my way across Lake Michigan just to spend five minutes with her. I was fascinated by her, and in awe of her intelligence. She had the world so figured out. She knew what she was all about.

Suddenly I had a reason to straighten myself out. I wanted to be with her, but I knew there was no way she would give me a second thought if I didn’t make some changes. I had to get a job, figure out this debt problem, and stop acting like a fool. Most importantly, I had to decide who I was as a person. What my values were.

Our first official date happened in May of 2001. I was back in Adrian visiting my folks over at my Aunt and Uncles house, Lonnie and Jim. I called Kristy and told her I was going to be passing by her place and wondered if she would like to hang out. This phone call brought much amusement to my family and they gave me the obligatory, “Oooooh, Randy has a date!” tease.

It was a double date of sorts, with my wife’s best friend and her brother who was in town from Penn St. I met everyone in my wife’s Battle Creek apartment. We went mini golfing and had lunch at the Big Boy on the corner. I was still playing it safe and not pushing things. I think she started to wonder if I would ever make a move. This would be evident on the next visit.

I visited her at her apartment a while later and it was starting to become obvious that there was interest on both sides, but again I was playing it safe. I had already gained so much from an intellectual sense and I did not want to screw anything up. As I was getting ready to say goodbye and head to Kalamazoo, Kristy asked me what I was waiting for.

We stood at my car in the parking lot of her apartment and I started to get in when she looked at me and sort of nonchalantly said, “So, are you ever going to kiss me or what?” I could not back down now, but I was nervous after being put on the spot. I leaned over to kiss her, gave her a sort of peck on the lips, the kind normally reserved for relatives, then I climbed in my car and sped off.

“You idiot!” I thought to myself on the drive home. I knew I had just blown it. No way would she be interested in me now.

Let me get back to a concept I touched on earlier. I was feeling down about myself and I had just ended my engagement, although I had not really a clear idea as to why. Something told me it was the right thing for me to do, but if someone wanted a quick one line explanation, I could not have given it to them.

Things were fine on the surface. We got along well. No fighting to speak of. Yet, something was stirring within me. I was about to commit the rest of my life to this woman, and I needed to be sure that was what I wanted. I didn’t want to lose her, but I was never completely sure that I wanted to be with her. I owed her for helping me out of my shell, but something just felt off.

Throughout my life I had always done what other people told me I should do. Most of my childhood was spent doing anything I could to please loved ones. I hardly ever got out of line. Sure, I had a problem focusing in school sometimes, but I was a kid. When I met Hollie, I was all too eager to please.

If she wanted to go somewhere I went. If she wanted us to buy something, we bought it. If there was a party…you get the idea. I had to perfect the art of excuses and sometimes downright lies to my parents in an effort to keep up with her. Later my brother would describe this syndrome as being “hooked on the cat”.

Naturally, when Hollie decided it was time that we got married, I was all too happy to go along with it. Granted, I had some reservations, but she soon overcame those. More like, beat me into submission with endless talk and visits to the jewelry store to pick out the ring. So one day, I just bought it. Right there in the mall, just outside of Zales Jewlers, I got on one knee and asked her to marry me. That ought to buy me some time I thought.

We began the tour. Visiting everyone we knew to show off the ring. I remember clearly when we caught up with my parents eating lunch with Uncle Jim and Aunt Lonnie in a pub called “Mr. Ed’s” in downtown Adrian.

“We have an announcement” I said. There was a large deep breath in and a long pause of dead silence. The look on my parents face was one of disguised shock. You could sort of read their thoughts. “Were smiling so you know we are happy for you, but what are you doing?”

Aunt Lonnie was the first to break the silence. She stood up and hugged us both. We sat down and finished the meal with them. Something just felt wrong to me, but I did not know what it was. Still, I felt like there was a long time between the ring and the isle, so I would figure out what was bothering me in due time.

At this point, I came to two distinct conclusions. The first was made clear that next summer when I was back from college working for a government funded youth work skills training program. A girl with a short skirt had caught my eye. I resisted as much as I could, not wanting to hurt my fiancé, but I longed to experience what life had to offer. I am not proud of myself, but I just had to investigate further. Soon I became the type of person I detested. I was sneaking out at night to meet this new girl. I could not help myself. I never slept with her, although I wanted to.

The second thing was me. I did not know who I was outside of my relationship with Hollie. I had supplanted other people’s values and desires for my own. I never really sat and thought, “What do I want out of life?” Once I did that, I knew that I needed to distance myself from her if I was ever going to find an answer.

It was a tough transition to make. I hated to hurt her, but I had to find out who I was. Maybe my future did involve her, and if it did then I would end up back with her. If it didn’t, then I would have been doing her, myself and our families a huge disservice by staying put and preparing for a wedding I did not even really want.

So, that fall, as we drove back to Western with our belongings in tow, I told Hollie it was over...

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...Part II

We continue with the series of my semi-auto biographical memoir-ish story of my life as I recall it...


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...



Part II:

I was jobless, penniless, a college dropout with a mountain of debt, and I had no idea what I was going to do with my life when she walked into that bowling alley. I looked over my pitcher of beer and nearly choked. There was the woman I was going to marry.

Now I won't pretend that I knew that right away. I don't think anyone is really clairvoyant enough to take one glance at someone and just "know". After all, just a few years earlier I "knew" who I was going to marry. Let's just say I had an intense feeling that something was different, special even, with this one.

That is not to say that she felt the same way about me. As I said, I was a drunk, broke, jobless drop out without much appeal when I chugged that last bit of liquid courage and dropped myself on the stool next to her. What happened next would change my life forever.

She had been invited to this bowling party as a friend of a friend of a co-worker of mine. I had already met Jen, my wife’s best friend, and this was the only “in” I needed. As I made my way over to the girls, I pretended not to have an agenda. I was merely there to be friendly to someone I had met before and to introduce myself to her guest. They must have been able to see right through that.

There was this one problem, aside from the previously stated lack of qualifications; I was there with my stalker girlfriend. I quite literally dumped her on the spot; she had been sitting on my lap. When I broke the ice with the new girl she responded, "Isn't that your girlfriend over there?”

Awkward.

Not one to be phased by such insignificant details, I replied, "Who her? Oh, I was planning on breaking up with her."

This was mostly true, as I had just that week had my epiphany that I was through pretending to be someone I was not, and letting stalker girl down easy was something I just hadn’t finished puzzling out. At that very moment a saving grace came blasting over the crackling overhead speakers. It was the "Casper Slide, part II", and I knew all of the moves. I grabbed my future wife by the hand and insisted that she join me to shake what her momma gave her.

We danced, we laughed, and I made a complete fool of myself. Then a higher power intervened and she actually gave me her phone number; which I promptly lost. My roommate and I were off to another party, and I thought that I may never see this beautiful woman again.

A week later I was using my roommates phone when I came across a name that shot trough me like a lightning bolt. Christie. I would later find out that I had not even been close to spelling the name correctly, but this solved the mystery as to why I could not find her number. I had picked up my roommates phone on accident when she was giving it to me at the bowling alley that night.

Right away I tried to come up with a good reason that we should hang out. The answer became all too clear; I had to get them all to come to Karaoke. See, I was sort of a regular at the local bar. I loved to sing, not to say I could sing well, but there were always good times to be had by all when we hung out a Harpo's. Later we would change hang outs due to what my wife lovingly refers to as the tramps that were frequenting the establishment. That, and the place was robbed one Sunday and the custodian was shot and killed. That will put a damper in any hang out.

They came over, I played guitar a little, and we went to the club where we sang Karaoke all night. After the bar closed we went to a friend of mines apartment for a couple drinks. It was a bit stuffy in the apartment, so Kristy and I went outside. There we sat on the steps until 4am, trading stories about childhood, friends, and work. It was great. We could still be sitting there right now, talking away. We had such a great connection. I was terrified.

When she tells this story she always says that was the night she stopped thinking of me as just some guy that was fun to hang out with, and started to think of me as someone she wanted to be with. I say that connection didn't really set in for me until one night in the back seat of her best friend’s car, although not like you might think. Let me explain...

(To be continued...)

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...

A while back I was inspired to write a bit about my life. This is what sort of spurred me on to create this blog. I sometimes feel torn about posting certain things, often wondering if it is worth reading or if it will cause me to be ridiculed, pitied, or laughed at, so it was tucked away...

Today I was digging through some old files and I came across that original text. It is rough and unfinished, as well as too long to post in one blog. However, I think it has some redeeming factors to it and thought maybe I could post it in a series, a la Charles Dickens, so here it is.


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Happily Ever After...



Part I:

It seems strange now when I look back on it.

There I was, a fresh faced 18 year old kid. I knew so many things about the world. I knew that I was going to marry my high school sweet heart. I knew I was going to graduate from college in four years. I knew I would have a successful career as a Mechanical Engineer, and that money would never be a problem for me from that point forward. Jobs were plentiful and the economy was strong, so I knew there were easy times ahead. The promise of a house with a picket fence, a beautiful wife, 2.3 kids and a dog was just waiting to be handed to me. I had the whole world figured out. What could possibly go wrong?

It all started when I was 16. I was just coming out of my shell when one fateful summer I joined a friend of mine on a trip to Cedar Point, an amusement park in Ohio. We were in line for an old wooden coaster called the Blue Streak when I met her. She was bubbly and had a big smile, I was hooked.

After talking a bit we discovered that we lived a mere twenty minutes from each other back in MI. We exchanged phone numbers and went our separate ways, not knowing if we would ever meet again. Four years later, I was ending our engagement and striking out on my own…but I am getting ahead of myself.

Let’s back track to the early teen years. When I was coming up through the ranks in school, I had demonstrated a knack for math and science. I was by no means a genius, but it seemed to come naturally to me. In middle school I was chosen to be on our math and science Olympiad team, and we competed in a contest to build an egg catching device. Everyone was excited about my achievements, and it was largely assumed that I would go on to college and study some sort of science discipline.

I was sure that was the right path for me, but I was a relatively naive and sheltered young man. How can one be expected to plot their future at such an inexperienced and impressionable age? There were good people along the way who helped me out, and I think I ultimately made the right choice, but I didn’t really have a clue back then. I chose to attend Western Michigan University, with designs on becoming a Mechanical Engineer. It sure didn’t hurt that someone I met two years before in Ohio had also chosen WMU.

Strangely enough I had no idea what a Mechanical Engineer did, yet I was pretty convinced that was what I was going to be. After all, everyone always said I was good at figuring out how things work. I always assumed an ME got to build things with their hands. You know, erector set play time that eventually ended up creating a new machine design that would revolutionize production and change the world as we know it. Turns out, it doesn't quite work like that.

I finished school; although it was nothing like I knew it would be ten years ago. I have a Bachelors degree in Business Administration, focusing on Computer Information Systems. What does that mean? Well, it is nothing remotely close to an ME. Turns out, Engineers don't really build things. They theorize, test, suggest and work in a virtual world. Not for me. Plus, I had become depressed, withdrawn from my academics, and I was no longer willing to put in the time to learn how to calculate the definite integral (the area under the curve) of the trajectory path created when someone throws a rock off of a cliff.

Menagarie: Part Deux

It has been a while since the mood has struck me to ramble. I often find myself coming across a topic that I might "burn" on, and discarding it. In my mind I am always my toughest critic, and I compare my potential new post to the most responded to blogs of the past and it never seems to stack up. I guess I should stop worrying and just write. This is why I do not work for the Times or something...

I also noticed a trend to worry about spelling/grammar/accuracy. Many of my ramblings deal with others inability to find a coherent sentence with two hands and a flash light. Now I fret over every line I type and it takes way too long to put out a simple article. Then, inevitably I post what I think is a polished rant that has been gone over for hours, only to notice a glaring mistake after I click "Publish Post". Oh well, I guess it is what it is, and my opening disclaimer for this blog is that I am not an expert. Never claimed to be. I try to follow the proverb of, "Don't throw stones if you live in a glass house", but it is just too much fun to point out things like, "Are credit card machine is broken and We apologize for that!" So, my grammar is broken, and I apologize for that.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone out there is still reading what I ramble (this is not a shameless attempt to get you to write me, just an observation). Then, I will pass someone randomly in the hall at work or hear someone mention my blog to someone else and it reminds me that people are watching. Facebook is the same way. I often run into a co-worker or friend on campus that I don't see that often who will comment on some aspect of my private life that I know I have not spoken to them about. It will take a second, then it will hit me. They see the pictures online. So, remember, someone is always watching.

http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/news?slug=cr-socialnetowrking040709&prov=yhoo&type=lgns

In that vein, I rambled a while back about the use of Facebook as a discovery tool when interviewing a potential employee. Now it seems that this technique has been taken to the next level. Charles Robinson of Yahoo Sports reports that NFL teams have taken to setting up fake profiles and befriending unsuspecting draft hopefuls in an effort to get a one of a kind in depth look into the private personal life of the young man they are about to invest millions in. I am a bit surprised at the fake profile tactic, seems a bit underhanded to me, but I don't blame them for wanting to protect their investments. Also, if the player is dumb enough to post a picture of himself with a spread of money and drugs, well then I have no sympathy for him. The moral of this story? Don't put anything on the web you would not bring to a job interview.

Observation: A computer is like a child. I am learning Linux (an operating system such as Windows or Mac) I am amazed at how often I forget that a computer is not capable of inferring intent from your command. I type something that makes sense to me, looking at the object I am referring to right in front of me on the screen. For some reason I am amazed that the computer has no idea what I mean! Then I realize, you have to be very explicit. This reminds me of something a parent would feel when asking a child to do something. How often has a parent given what they thought were reasonable instructions to a child such as load the washing machine? Later the parent enters the laundry room to find a full washer of dry, dirty clothes. If you do not specify to the child that you intend for them to add detergent and start the spin cycle you should be prepared for getting exactly what you asked for. I remember once when my brother and I were younger, my dad told us to go "hop" in the truck and he would be along shortly. When he arrived at his drivers door he noticed the vehicle bouncing wildly. As he stuck his head inside he found us complying to his request, literally hoping up and down in the truck. Priceless...

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

They're out to get me!

Call it Murphy's Law, call it bad luck, call it whatever you want, but the world is out to get me...

This has been a trend I have been observing for quite some time, and I have developed a theory. Today, after having the conspiring custodial staff yet again close the restroom for cleaning as I was approaching, I think that my theory holds some weight.

It seems that every time I exit my office and head in the direction of the rest room (clear on the other side of the building by the way, which is really inconvenient) the custodians close it for cleaning. This is not a coincidence folks.

Here is what I think is happening. There is a custodial spy stationed somewhere in the book stacks outside of my office (a clever ninja trained in the art of disguise as I have been unable to locate this person). When said spy sees me exit my office they radio to the waiting team near the men's room:

"Sanitaion-1, this is Mop&Bucket. The Eagle has flown the nest. I repeat, the Eagle has flown the nest. Commence operation restroom closed!"

They used to do such a good job of coordination that they had all restrooms closed at the same time, on all four floors. Wow! That level of dedication to ruining my morning is just unheard of! We have since requested that they only clean one at a time, which only makes sense if you ask me.

Now I know some of you are thinking, well that is just one example. Maybe you think I am overreacting...Well to that I offer this. When I was working retail sales, customers would conspire against me so that I could not eat my lunch! Yup, you heard me (or rather, read me?). They had a similar setup to the ninja-custodian team.

Every day it would be quiet as can be, very few customers. Then, I calmly approach the microwave to insert my lunch, and no sooner does the whir of the microwave begin, and radiation starts to soak into my frozen processed lunch when, "Ding!" A customer! Imagine that. Then another followed by another and you get the point. Soon enough my lunch has undergone physical state changes from solid to liquid, to something in between. Yuck!

I know these people are all calmly waiting in their parked cars, peering through binoculars to see me walk toward the microwave, and giving the all clear over their military issue walkie-talkies, sending a steady flow of people through the door for the next two hours.

Not enough evidence for you? Well, how is it that every time I get in line at the grocery store, there just happens to be someone in line in front of me paying with a check after asking for a price check on some random item they thought was marked $0.20 less than it rang in at?

I suppose you expect me to believe that the people driving 10 mph under the speed limit in front of me WHENEVER I am late is also a coincidence? Humph. I don't believe it.

So I ask you, what have I done to the universe to deserve such treatment? Please tell me so I can right my cosmic wrongs!

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

We lost a good one...

Diether Haenicke
1935-2009




http://www.wwmt.com/video/index.php?bcpid=1111405973&bclid=1137706675&bctid=14197598001

This is a clip of my Dean talking about the late great Diether Haenicke, former WMU president who passed away recently. They are holding a memorial service for him on campus today.

Diether was in his 70's, and had been in poor health for some time. His original retirement from WMU was due in part to heart problems. He agreed graciously to interim when his predecessors failed to live up to his high standards. After the current president, Dr. John Dunn, was brought in, Diether remained close giving lectures and teaching. It was during his last lecture that he had a heart attack, causing him to fall and hit his head. He never fully recovered from his injury.

As Dean Reish points out, Diether left his imprint all over campus. He was a fierce advocate of the arts, library, and humanities (particularly foreign relations given he was German). There are several buildings and programs that exist as a direct result of his work, and one is named after him.

I personally had the pleasure of meeting Deither a couple of times here at the library. He called me "an important man to know" given that I was part of his IT support team. Although he was small in stature, he was a giant among his peers. He wrote a weekly editorial for the Kalamazoo Gazette, and was published in several other media.

Diether was president when I first became a student at Western. He retired before I graduated, and there was a noticeable absence of leadership and direction on campus. Elson Floyd, Diether's successor, left WMU for what he considered a better opportunity, and next in line president Judy Bailey was fired for poor performance (there were rumors of inappropriate actions with young co-eds by her husband, who also had a drinking problem. He frequently was given rides home from various drinking establishments by WMU police).

When I joined the staff here under Bailey, things were very lax. Enrollment was down. Moral was low. We were infighting amongst the staff and faculty. When Baily was fired, Diether came back as interim president while we searched for, and ultimately found our new president in Dr. Dunn.

Immediately there was a renewed spirit when Diether arrived. He put out policies, initiated a new add campaign for recruiting, gave the staff a much needed raise (albeit a small one), and righted the ship. Now enrollment is up, moral is high, and we are back on track.

So we owe Dr. Haenicke a deep gratitude for what he did for us. He is gone but not forgotten.

RIP Diether.

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

Is our children learning?

Is our children learning?
(The famous blooper from then President George W. Bush)

The answer might be a resounding no...

I am a big fan of the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar (or SPOGG for short). They have a great blog at http://grammatically.blogspot.com/.



Seems a Wendy's employee made the following sign, and I quote:
"Are credit card machine is not working and We apologize for that."

First of all, "Are" you sure that "Our" credit card machine is really broken? Furthermore, what happened to your punctuation? Did "and" suddenly replace the period? I must have missed the memo on that one...

It really bugs me when simple statements like this can be butchered to this extent. Not that I am the God of grammar, and no one died and left me in charge of policing peoples postings, but come on! Doesn't this just speak volumes to the state of our educational system today? So sad...

By the way, if I made any grammatical errors on this post, I total recant the whole thing...

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

A Picute is Worth a Thousand Words

I just came across a post that I never finished. As I wrote it I began the process every good journalist (remember, I am not a journalist, I just play one on the web) should do; fact checks.

I was disturbed to find out that the humorous tales I learned in my business classes at WMU were either completely false, or at least under suspicion. *sigh* Can't anything be on the up and up any more? Not that I want to live in Mayberry with Sheriff Taylor, but come on people! A little straight forwardness and honesty, is that too much to ask? But I digress...

Point is, I liked my original idea for a story, and who can resist an opportunity to brag about their kids? The "business tales" I will leave for you to decide.

8/27/2008 I wrote:
______________________________________________________





A colleague of mine was commenting on this great picture we have of our five month old daughter with a big bright smile on her face. She said, "Wow, looks like you have a Gerber baby there!". This brought to mind the picture on the front of all Gerber products and I remembered a funny thing we learned in a business class I took at the Haworth College of Business here at WMU.

Gerber baby in a jar: In South Africa the literacy rate is very low, so most products have a picture of the containers contents on its label. Wanting to understand why it's hugely successful line of baby food was not selling well internationally, Gerber flew some executives to Africa. They were informed that no one would buy a jar of ground up babies...Gerber as you may know, is famous for having a picture of a cute baby face on its labels!

Nova = "No go": Chevy took its successful Nova model to Mexico where sales were beyond abysmal. When they investigated further they discovered that the name Nova quite literally means "No go" in Spanish. They changed the name to Caribe and sales took off.
Note: This one is under a bit of scrutiny and Snopes.com lists this tale as "False", although I think their supporting argument is a little suspect and the fact that this tale was in my Business 4200 textbook leads me to believe it. Plus, it's too funny to dismiss!)

John Deere adultery hat: In Asia there is an idiom that translates roughly to "I wear a green hat", which means that you cheat on your spouse. John Deere has found that their hats sell better in white, or yellow. Anything but green!
_____________________________________________________

If the stories are true or not, I find it interesting that they appear in college text books. I seem to find myself frequently using web sites like snopes.com to check things of this nature. It seems to be pretty reliable, although you can't blindly trust any one site, and some of their supporting arguments seem suspect to me.

I do find Snopes to be effective at debunking the e-mail rumors and virus alerts that seem so prevalent these days. I once briefly believed an e-mail sent to me with a picture of a 27' Aligator that was taken out of a local river in my home town. Very realistic with pictures and references to real places, people, and newspapers. I double checked in Snopes, and sure enough the length was exaggerated (largest 'gator ever recorded was under 20') and the photo was taken in Texas somewhere. Seems there are several versions of this e-mail sent around, customized to your local area, in an effort to get you to forward to all of your friends. This gives the creator access to your e-mail address book and the ability to spread viruses. Crazy people...

So, when it comes to the stories you have heard here, you be the judge. I just wouldn't recommend that you wear your green hat on your next visit to Japan.

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

My list, and a life lesson from a great woman...

Something to believe in. We all need it. Hope, faith, a reason to believe that brighter days are on the horizon. As I watched the 44th president of the United States swear his oath of office, people around me openly wept. I was moved as well, but not by the fact that he was the first African-American president, rather because it seems he is a man of integrity in a time where values have been lost.

We so desperately need people of character to lead us. Seems like every time you read the news some jerk just ran a company into the ground, all while taking a multi-million dollar golden parachute to safety. If it's not that, it's another senator/governor who (insert your favorite confidence deflating scum bag move here) and shakes our already weakened confidence in our elected officials. I prefer "pulling a Blagojevich" which means you abuse power and attempt to profit from filing a position normally elected by the people, all while telling the country you are a man of integrity who wants to bring respect back to your office and state.

I define character as what a person does when no one is there to see it. Choices a person makes on a daily basis. It is found in the way you treat others, both the powerful and the powerless. Many things shape a persons character, and many people have impacted my character throughout my life. One powerful influence on me early on was my grandmother. She always had a unique way of thinking about things. Not only could she do the cool things in life like teach you how use a fork to make the crisscross lines in a peanut butter cookie, but she had a knack for helping you see the best in people.

I remember when I was in elementary school and I was having trouble with a bully. Walking home he had decided for no good reason to take out his anger on someone, and I was apparently his closest target. Later as I visited my grandparents I was sulking and must have complained about that 'no good kid' who lived across the street. My grandmother had a different take. The conversation went something like this:

"Surely you can't say there is no good in him at all, can you?" she replied.
"Grandma, this boy is nothing but pure evil. There is not a single thing good about him. I wish he were never born!"
"It may be hard for you to see now, but there is good in all of us. No matter what that bully has done to you, or how much you dislike him, there are things about him you just understand."

And with that, she put in front of me a piece of paper and a pencil (my grandmother always wrote in pencil, on yellow legal pads, in perfect cursive. No one does that anymore...so sad.)

"Now, sit here and write out 10 positive things about that bully." She said.

I remember thinking there was no way was I going to come up with one good thing to say about this scum, let alone ten!

I made my way through the list, and while I didn't become best friends with him, I did start to see him in a different light. It was a small thing, but it had a big impact. Little did I know that my grandmother had just planted a seed that would blossom into a powerful life skill that I remember all these years later. I can recall one specific time in my life more recently when my ability to see good in others came in handy.

I was a Resident Advisor in the halls at WMU, and I did not particularly care for one of my fellow R.A.'s. He was not doing a very good job in my opinion, and I readily told him and others just that. Our hall director got wind of this rift between us and had a team building session. Guess what he asked us to do? Yup, list ten good qualities about the other person. I easily breezed through my list (you know, I have done this before) and when I was finished I began to see the other R.A. in a whole new light.

While I still disagreed with some of the things he was doing (or not doing), I noticed that he had some redeeming qualities that I admired. He was quiet and reserved (anyone who knows me well can see why I may not have understood this personality trait at first), but he was well respected by his residents. He earned their respect. We soon became friends and worked well together for the rest of the term. He found me on Facebook just the other day, and he is doing well in life.

What does it all mean? I don't know, I guess I can sometimes be a bit of a Pollyanna, always seeing the good and bright side. I am definitely a glass half full kind of person (or if I were an engineer I would say the glass is twice as big as it needs to be). It is dangerous to not be aware of others deficiencies or shortcomings, and none of this is going to bring about world peace, but I can't help but think that this world could be a better place to live if everyone had met my grandmother. If we take the time to truly understand each other, and see the good in all of us, who knows what we could accomplish?

http://semicoherentramblingsofamadman.blogspot.com/

"The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing." - Socrates

Strange how things evolve. Take me for example. Eight years ago I didnt have a care in life. My biggest concern was where the next keg party was. As I reflected on my life, I thought I had everything well in hand. If asked whether or not I was smart/experienced/mature I would most certainly have answered with 'yes'. Not cocky, nor elitist, just confident.

Its funny how you look back at how you felt just a few short years ago. Remember how you "knew what was going on"...and now you think "what an idiot I was then. Oh how little I knew!" You feel confident about what you know now, yet inevitably in five years you will look back on this very moment with awe at what a schmuck you were (are)...Strange.

When I met my wife things changed for me. Now, everything I did not only impacted me, it also impacted her. I also felt an obligation to her family, to show them that I was taking care of her and looking out for us. I slowed down a little. Stopped taking huge risks. Things had evolved. Then, my daughter was born...Whoa.

Now I stare down every intersection before pulling out on a green light. I glare at fast "out of control" drivers. I worry about healthy foods. I exercise and take care of myself just that much more. When the stock market tanks, I get depressed. I read the safety instructions on the package (this would seriously amuse the me of eight years ago). Things have evolved.

The other day we were snowmobiling, and I approached a mound of snow. Even just a couple of years ago I would have goosed the throttle and hit that thing square at about 50 mph without much regard to what was on the other side, screaming for joy the whole way down. This time I slowed down, checked behind me, put my left arm out to signal a turn, and went around. All the while thinking to myself how I need to stay safe for my wife and daughter.

I get these funny 'Daymares' (they would be nightmares, but they happen during the day). I wave goodbye to my wife as she pulls out with the baby in the car, then WHAM! They get hit by a truck or something. Scares the bejezus out of me! I know these things are no more likely to happen now than before, but there is just so much more at stake now. Never really gave it much thought before. Funny how things evolve.

I also thought I understood what it was to be an adult. After I bought a house and had 'bills to pay' I felt like I had a pretty good grasp on things. Now, when I look back I realize I had no idea what it meant to be an 'adult'. It means being responsible for others. It means putting your needs aside, and taking care of business first. Being a parent means loving someone else so much it hurts sometimes. Working so hard to make the world a safe place for your children to grow up, knowing that most of it is out of your control. I am remided of what Bob Seger says in 'Against the Wind', "I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then."

Now I wonder what it is I have yet to learn. As I sit here and marvel about how little I knew a couple of years ago, I can't help but realize that the way I feel now will seem foolish through the lens of time. I remain humbled by the early lessons I have been taught by a nine month old baby girl, and I look forward to learning more from her for the rest of my life.

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