It was such a strange day for me today. And that doesn't include my work. That's just life stuff.
Easy garbage: today is my brother's birthday. He is 8 years older than me. We haven't had a conversation in about a decade. Well, he called me and gave me updates when my mom was dying but other than that, we haven't talked in years. Its probably been more than a decade.
When I was with my mom watching her die, I promised her that I would try to talk to him. I have tried. This year and last year I have sent him a text on his birthday. The response? Silence. Not a single freaking word. Okay, fine. I don't actually expect him to stand up and act like a man at this point in his life. My wife told me I have hope. I don't think its hope. I think its a desire to keep my word to my mom. It doesn't seem to be working, but I guess I will just keep trying. What else can I do?
Hard: It was a rough day dealing with my oldest son. The call came last night that he had to be restrained. Fine. That doesn't surprise me anymore. The phone rings after 9pm and I will make a wager that that is the phone call I am going to get. I can deal with that.
But today was insurance issues. And people not doing what they said they would do. And just making it more complicated. Then my middle kid gets home from school where he was on a week long field trip. YAY! I see a boy there who is on the spectrum and he went on the trip and I think "Fuck." Yes, that is actually what I thought.
I just don't get it. I mean, I get it. Life isn't fair. God doesn't give us more than we can handle. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. None of that changes this. My almost 13 year old can't do most things a 13 year old does because he has so many issues. And this little boy just reminded me of that.
I am glad this kid can do these things. His parents seem like nice people. I just want, for once, to be able to hang out with my son and do father son things. It just isn't in the cards.
It was a day. I know people have it worse. I just want a fun day once in a while. I don't think that is asking too much.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
They grow up fast enough
I will preface this with the following: this may offend some of you; this may annoy some of you; some of you may disagree. That being said, I don't ever hide what I think so here goes.
One of my favorite songs when I was little, and heck it still is, is Cats in the Cradle. (If you don't know it, a) what planet are you from and b) you can listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUwjNBjqR-c) Its about a dad who sings of his son who was born and learned to walk while he was away. Then, the child turns 10 and wants to learn how to play catch, but dad can't teach him. The kid comes home from college and wants to borrow dad's car keys. Then, dad retires and calls his son, but his son is too busy with his own life. It turns out the son grew up just like the dad.
I would listen to this song and, to this day, it causes me to tear up. I had my boys listen to it today. I don't know if they understood it, but it was something we could do together. I never wanted to grow up like my dad. Heck, I never wanted to grow up. But here I am, an adult, with kids of my own. And I realize that my kids, all kids, are growing up too fast.
My oldest is going to be 13 in less than a month. He has so many issues that it is just tough. Its hard. I can't explain it. I grew up in a house with an older sister who had some issues, but not nearly as bad as my son's issues. I remember going to doctor appointments, running all over town (and half the state) with my mom and my sister.
My middle son is 11. He is in 6th grade. Although, it feels like high school. At back to school night, the teacher had to announce that the girls cannot wear makeup. Really? That had to be announced? Apparently, it was more of a problem than I realized.
For his birthday, we got him a cell phone. He can call us and send text messages, although he is limited to 300 messages a month. He has also been told he cannot delete messages. I plan on checking up on him. This, I am told, is strange. So, today I checked his phone. My, oh my.
I found him texting a girl. This girl is, um, advanced. She went to the halloween festival in tight jeans, a top, makeup (including bright red lipstick) and a cowboy hat. That, my friends, is not a costume. That is like my dressing up in a polo and jeans and saying I am a lawyer. It just doesn't pass the smell test.
She was talking about what boys like what girls and how she doesn't understand why the boys all like a certain girl. WTF?
Look, maybe I am old fashioned, or an old soul, or just plain old. I get that. But I don't think my 11 year old needs to have these conversations. I can count on one hand every girl I had a crush on - ever. Is that strange? Maybe. I also married my high school sweetheart, so what the heck do I know. I am sure this girl's mom knows about it. I am sure most of the parents know about it.
Apparently, this is fine with some parents. Okay, they can raise their kids any way that they feel is appropriate. I will raise my kids in a way that I feel is appropriate. Thats how it works.
But don't our kids grow up too fast already? My dad used to sit me down and tell me that each generation has it harder than the prior one. When my dad was 15, they were just getting rock n roll. When he was in his 20s, there was a war going on.
When I was 15, there was gangsta rap. In my 20s, we were in an almost constant war - a war that hasn't ended in my 30s. My kids are 12, 11, 8 and 3. I know my boys are exposed to more profanity in a day then I was in a year. The songs on the radios talk about rolling joints, disrespecting woman. And somehow we find that appropriate.
I wish we could all slow down and realize that our kids are still kids. My boys still do things that are very boy like. I am glad. I want them to be boys. The longer they are boys the better. Because, as a man, as a father, I know that life isn't as easy as it is at 11 and 8. I know that things will only get harder, decisions will be more difficult, life choices are forced upon you.
Remember Jack and Diane: Hold on to 16 as long as you can..........(For those of you who do not know, its here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h04CH9YZcpI) I want my boys to be boys. I want the talk about who likes who, and the makeup, and the pressure to just stop. It wont, but I will do my best to keep it in check.
One of my favorite songs when I was little, and heck it still is, is Cats in the Cradle. (If you don't know it, a) what planet are you from and b) you can listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUwjNBjqR-c) Its about a dad who sings of his son who was born and learned to walk while he was away. Then, the child turns 10 and wants to learn how to play catch, but dad can't teach him. The kid comes home from college and wants to borrow dad's car keys. Then, dad retires and calls his son, but his son is too busy with his own life. It turns out the son grew up just like the dad.
I would listen to this song and, to this day, it causes me to tear up. I had my boys listen to it today. I don't know if they understood it, but it was something we could do together. I never wanted to grow up like my dad. Heck, I never wanted to grow up. But here I am, an adult, with kids of my own. And I realize that my kids, all kids, are growing up too fast.
My oldest is going to be 13 in less than a month. He has so many issues that it is just tough. Its hard. I can't explain it. I grew up in a house with an older sister who had some issues, but not nearly as bad as my son's issues. I remember going to doctor appointments, running all over town (and half the state) with my mom and my sister.
My middle son is 11. He is in 6th grade. Although, it feels like high school. At back to school night, the teacher had to announce that the girls cannot wear makeup. Really? That had to be announced? Apparently, it was more of a problem than I realized.
For his birthday, we got him a cell phone. He can call us and send text messages, although he is limited to 300 messages a month. He has also been told he cannot delete messages. I plan on checking up on him. This, I am told, is strange. So, today I checked his phone. My, oh my.
I found him texting a girl. This girl is, um, advanced. She went to the halloween festival in tight jeans, a top, makeup (including bright red lipstick) and a cowboy hat. That, my friends, is not a costume. That is like my dressing up in a polo and jeans and saying I am a lawyer. It just doesn't pass the smell test.
She was talking about what boys like what girls and how she doesn't understand why the boys all like a certain girl. WTF?
Look, maybe I am old fashioned, or an old soul, or just plain old. I get that. But I don't think my 11 year old needs to have these conversations. I can count on one hand every girl I had a crush on - ever. Is that strange? Maybe. I also married my high school sweetheart, so what the heck do I know. I am sure this girl's mom knows about it. I am sure most of the parents know about it.
Apparently, this is fine with some parents. Okay, they can raise their kids any way that they feel is appropriate. I will raise my kids in a way that I feel is appropriate. Thats how it works.
But don't our kids grow up too fast already? My dad used to sit me down and tell me that each generation has it harder than the prior one. When my dad was 15, they were just getting rock n roll. When he was in his 20s, there was a war going on.
When I was 15, there was gangsta rap. In my 20s, we were in an almost constant war - a war that hasn't ended in my 30s. My kids are 12, 11, 8 and 3. I know my boys are exposed to more profanity in a day then I was in a year. The songs on the radios talk about rolling joints, disrespecting woman. And somehow we find that appropriate.
I wish we could all slow down and realize that our kids are still kids. My boys still do things that are very boy like. I am glad. I want them to be boys. The longer they are boys the better. Because, as a man, as a father, I know that life isn't as easy as it is at 11 and 8. I know that things will only get harder, decisions will be more difficult, life choices are forced upon you.
Remember Jack and Diane: Hold on to 16 as long as you can..........(For those of you who do not know, its here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h04CH9YZcpI) I want my boys to be boys. I want the talk about who likes who, and the makeup, and the pressure to just stop. It wont, but I will do my best to keep it in check.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
A challenge
As I was driving home from camping this weekend, I had two ideas. First, I could come here and vent. I need to vent. Look, my oldest boy turns 13 in just over a month. I should be preparing for his Bar Mitzvah. Instead, I am happy to just see him on his birthday, even if it means I will drive for 10 hours to get home on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I could be mad and upset and sad about this.
But...............as I was starting my drive, I stopped at Starbucks. There were two Army servicemembers (soldiers?) behind me. I ordered and then saw them. As the first ordered, I told the barrista (isn't she just an employee?) to not charge them, I would pay for it. These guys were very happy and told me they are getting ready to go to Afghanistan. I thanked them for their service.
I was in a Starbucks full of 20 people. I could have done as the other 19 did and ignored them. I could make up excuse after excuse and not feel bad. I don't roll in the dough. I give clients time to pay me. I have 4 kids, a wife, 3 dogs and a house to pay for. I spent some money this weekend on my trip. I was tired from drunks keeping me up. I am sure the list could go on and on.
But, someone, at some point, has to stand up and say "I will do what others won't." I decided to be that guy today. I have done this before and I usually don't say anything about it. But I am tired. I am tired of people always having an excuse for not doing something. Someone has to be the guy who stops and says "Now is the time for change." If not me, then who? If not now, then when? Fine, they are cliche, but they are true.
So, here is my challenge to you. The next time you are at a Starbucks or any other coffee shop, the grocery store, the fast food place, a restaurant, and you see a police officer, firefighter, servicemember walk in, pay for their meal. (Fine, you are anti-war, anti-police and anti-firefighter, than do it for the person behind you.) Maybe its a $4 coffee. Maybe it is a $20 dinner. Maybe you can make 1,000 excuses like I could have today. But, maybe, just maybe, when you are done, you will feel better about yourself. And maybe, if we are lucky, someone else will see you do it and will decide to do it.
I have 800 followers on twitter. I have over 400 "friends" on Facebook. That is 1,200 people. If half of you step up and do it, 600 people, just buy one cup of coffee, that is 600 people who will have their days bettered by a simple act of kindness. I always asked my dad why pyramids don't work. He explained to me how you had to continually have more people involved. This is why this works - it starts with 1. Then 2. Then 4. Then 8. If 600 people do this. then we can get 1,200, then 2,400, then 4,800, and do the math. It grows exponentially.
So, who is in? Who is willing to spend $5 to buy a cup of coffee for someone and meet my challenge?
But...............as I was starting my drive, I stopped at Starbucks. There were two Army servicemembers (soldiers?) behind me. I ordered and then saw them. As the first ordered, I told the barrista (isn't she just an employee?) to not charge them, I would pay for it. These guys were very happy and told me they are getting ready to go to Afghanistan. I thanked them for their service.
I was in a Starbucks full of 20 people. I could have done as the other 19 did and ignored them. I could make up excuse after excuse and not feel bad. I don't roll in the dough. I give clients time to pay me. I have 4 kids, a wife, 3 dogs and a house to pay for. I spent some money this weekend on my trip. I was tired from drunks keeping me up. I am sure the list could go on and on.
But, someone, at some point, has to stand up and say "I will do what others won't." I decided to be that guy today. I have done this before and I usually don't say anything about it. But I am tired. I am tired of people always having an excuse for not doing something. Someone has to be the guy who stops and says "Now is the time for change." If not me, then who? If not now, then when? Fine, they are cliche, but they are true.
So, here is my challenge to you. The next time you are at a Starbucks or any other coffee shop, the grocery store, the fast food place, a restaurant, and you see a police officer, firefighter, servicemember walk in, pay for their meal. (Fine, you are anti-war, anti-police and anti-firefighter, than do it for the person behind you.) Maybe its a $4 coffee. Maybe it is a $20 dinner. Maybe you can make 1,000 excuses like I could have today. But, maybe, just maybe, when you are done, you will feel better about yourself. And maybe, if we are lucky, someone else will see you do it and will decide to do it.
I have 800 followers on twitter. I have over 400 "friends" on Facebook. That is 1,200 people. If half of you step up and do it, 600 people, just buy one cup of coffee, that is 600 people who will have their days bettered by a simple act of kindness. I always asked my dad why pyramids don't work. He explained to me how you had to continually have more people involved. This is why this works - it starts with 1. Then 2. Then 4. Then 8. If 600 people do this. then we can get 1,200, then 2,400, then 4,800, and do the math. It grows exponentially.
So, who is in? Who is willing to spend $5 to buy a cup of coffee for someone and meet my challenge?
Friday, October 12, 2012
In defense of us
I was going to call it in defence of us as if I was British or an academic or someone who did better in school than barely graduating. But, I figured that would make me look pretentious and I don't do pretentious. By the way, if profanity offends you, either accept this as my apology or don't read the rest of this. Either way, I won't be offended. Promise.
I am fucked up. I know it. I even know why. My entire family is fucked up. Well, was fucked up. Lets see, my dad was so driven to work that he took so much medicine and died at 62. My mom didn't call me when my sister died. My sister got married and didn't tell anyone or about the SOB who gave her HIV. I still want to kick the living shit out of that piece of crap. My brother is the only one alive and he doesn't talk to me. I fucking tried. My cousins think my mom dying was harder on them than it was on me. My dad's brother thinks I am an asshole. Maybe I am. My mom's sister hates me and told me it was a blessing when my dad died. Oh, I could go on. But suffice it to say that I am pretty fucked up and I know why.
I have my own family now. A great wife who I have known since we were freshmen in high school and dated since we were juniors. I have 4 great kids who I would do anything for. Just so we are clear, you hurt my kids and I will get revenge. I have friends. I have a good job. And yet, I am still fucked up. What the hell?
You know what, though, we try. It sucks and we try. And I am so fucking tired of people criticizing us and what we do. You think its easy to make the decisions we make? Try it. I lost a lot of my relationship with my mom because I refused to burden her with how bad Tyler was. It was my decision. And, as I have said before, its a decision I would never change. People want to judge me for not dropping everything and going to visit my mom when she got cancer AGAIN? Fine. Judge away. You don't know what I know. You don't have to make the decisions I have to make. Because as fucked up as I am, my dad taught me to be a man. That doesnt mean I can run around and screw a woman. It doesnt mean I can smoke or gamble or vote or any of that shit. It means I have to do what I think is best for my family. I did. You don't like those decisions? Fuck you. You don't have to live my life.
You think its easy to have him living 500 miles away? For 18 months? Really? Do you have any fucking idea what stress that causes in a marriage? In a family? In a man? Whats my first job? To take care of my family. Oh, I can sit here and justify this until I am 108. Its better for Tyler to be there. He has to be there. We cant take care of him. He needs a safe environment. BULLSHIT. Its all fucking crap. I could find SOME way to make it work. Its my job. But somehow, through all of this, not just the last 18 months, but the last 6 years, I havent been able to make it work. And do you know what that does to me? It eats me up. It eats me from the inside. It kills me. And dont tell me to talk about it. Dont tell me I need counseling. Fuck that nonsense. No counselor, no friend, no one knows what its like unless you have had to do it.
Do you think we dont want him home? I would do anything to have him home. I would give it all up - the house, the cars, the neighborhood. I would go live in South Central LA taking public transportation to be the garbage man or the dude who cleans up crime scenes to have my son home every night and hold him and hug him and teach him how to be a man. I would walk 1000 miles every single fucking day if thats what it took. I would give my right leg and never play soccer again to have that kid with us.
And I know Alison would too. I know she wants him home more than anything. And we simply can't have it. Its not fucking possible. He is our first born. I dont know the exact nature of the relationship between an oldest and his mother. But I do know the relationship between a mother and a son. I can only imagine how much this hurts her. And there is not one single fucking thing I can do to help her. Nothing. And as much as we talk about it, and I hold her, and I love her, I cant take that away. I cant make that type of pain go away.
Then we have to listen to people criticize us. Why arent we doing this? Why arent we doing that? What about this option or that option? Do you think we dont spend every single day thinking about options? Do you think we havent considered every option? I called in every favor I can think of. I even called in favors owed to my dad, and he hasn't been alive for 10 years.
Do you think its easy? It kills us. We are doing the best damn job we know how to do. There is no book on how to be a parent. There really is no book how to be a parent of a kid like Tyler. And the piece of crap books about how to deal with your special needs child don't even scratch the surface of what we are dealing with.
Look, I get it. There are people worse off in life than us. I feel bad for those people. I try to help them. I really do. Every single chance I get, I give back. Someone needs help and can't afford it? Fine. I will do my best to help. Someone needs a cup of coffee on a cold morning? I am good for that too. We do what we can to help others.
But I am so fucking sick and tired of the assholes who want to run around and judge us or complain about us or criticize about us. You don't like decisions I have made in my life? Fine. I don't like every decision I have made in my life either. I know Alison doesn't like every decision she has made in her life either, like marrying me. (What, a little humor isn't allowed? Screw you. That was funny.) But we are good people doing the best we can in a life that we didnt plan for, we didnt ask for, and we dont know what we are doing.
I grew up religious. I stopped practicing 10 years ago when my dad died. I started practicing again almost 4 years ago when we found out Alison was pregnant. I know God doesn't judge us. I know God doesnt give us more than we can handle. Fine, its a cliche. Bite me. Its my cliche right now. I know there is a plan and we are supposed to just go with it. I get that.
What I don't get is why people think we arent doing everything humanly possible to get Tyler what he needs? Why people think we are bad people? I have screwed up. I admit it. I confess my sins. Don't judge me by my sins. Judge me by whether I have learned from those sins and made myself a better person. Judge me by whether the world is a bit better because of things I have done right, not what I have done wrong.
Look, we are human. We try. We do the best we can. I know God knows that. I know we try to remember that. But lets go back to the Golden Rule: if you dont have something nice to say to us, dont say anything at all. Life is hard enough without you judging us too.
I am fucked up. I know it. I even know why. My entire family is fucked up. Well, was fucked up. Lets see, my dad was so driven to work that he took so much medicine and died at 62. My mom didn't call me when my sister died. My sister got married and didn't tell anyone or about the SOB who gave her HIV. I still want to kick the living shit out of that piece of crap. My brother is the only one alive and he doesn't talk to me. I fucking tried. My cousins think my mom dying was harder on them than it was on me. My dad's brother thinks I am an asshole. Maybe I am. My mom's sister hates me and told me it was a blessing when my dad died. Oh, I could go on. But suffice it to say that I am pretty fucked up and I know why.
I have my own family now. A great wife who I have known since we were freshmen in high school and dated since we were juniors. I have 4 great kids who I would do anything for. Just so we are clear, you hurt my kids and I will get revenge. I have friends. I have a good job. And yet, I am still fucked up. What the hell?
You know what, though, we try. It sucks and we try. And I am so fucking tired of people criticizing us and what we do. You think its easy to make the decisions we make? Try it. I lost a lot of my relationship with my mom because I refused to burden her with how bad Tyler was. It was my decision. And, as I have said before, its a decision I would never change. People want to judge me for not dropping everything and going to visit my mom when she got cancer AGAIN? Fine. Judge away. You don't know what I know. You don't have to make the decisions I have to make. Because as fucked up as I am, my dad taught me to be a man. That doesnt mean I can run around and screw a woman. It doesnt mean I can smoke or gamble or vote or any of that shit. It means I have to do what I think is best for my family. I did. You don't like those decisions? Fuck you. You don't have to live my life.
You think its easy to have him living 500 miles away? For 18 months? Really? Do you have any fucking idea what stress that causes in a marriage? In a family? In a man? Whats my first job? To take care of my family. Oh, I can sit here and justify this until I am 108. Its better for Tyler to be there. He has to be there. We cant take care of him. He needs a safe environment. BULLSHIT. Its all fucking crap. I could find SOME way to make it work. Its my job. But somehow, through all of this, not just the last 18 months, but the last 6 years, I havent been able to make it work. And do you know what that does to me? It eats me up. It eats me from the inside. It kills me. And dont tell me to talk about it. Dont tell me I need counseling. Fuck that nonsense. No counselor, no friend, no one knows what its like unless you have had to do it.
Do you think we dont want him home? I would do anything to have him home. I would give it all up - the house, the cars, the neighborhood. I would go live in South Central LA taking public transportation to be the garbage man or the dude who cleans up crime scenes to have my son home every night and hold him and hug him and teach him how to be a man. I would walk 1000 miles every single fucking day if thats what it took. I would give my right leg and never play soccer again to have that kid with us.
And I know Alison would too. I know she wants him home more than anything. And we simply can't have it. Its not fucking possible. He is our first born. I dont know the exact nature of the relationship between an oldest and his mother. But I do know the relationship between a mother and a son. I can only imagine how much this hurts her. And there is not one single fucking thing I can do to help her. Nothing. And as much as we talk about it, and I hold her, and I love her, I cant take that away. I cant make that type of pain go away.
Then we have to listen to people criticize us. Why arent we doing this? Why arent we doing that? What about this option or that option? Do you think we dont spend every single day thinking about options? Do you think we havent considered every option? I called in every favor I can think of. I even called in favors owed to my dad, and he hasn't been alive for 10 years.
Do you think its easy? It kills us. We are doing the best damn job we know how to do. There is no book on how to be a parent. There really is no book how to be a parent of a kid like Tyler. And the piece of crap books about how to deal with your special needs child don't even scratch the surface of what we are dealing with.
Look, I get it. There are people worse off in life than us. I feel bad for those people. I try to help them. I really do. Every single chance I get, I give back. Someone needs help and can't afford it? Fine. I will do my best to help. Someone needs a cup of coffee on a cold morning? I am good for that too. We do what we can to help others.
But I am so fucking sick and tired of the assholes who want to run around and judge us or complain about us or criticize about us. You don't like decisions I have made in my life? Fine. I don't like every decision I have made in my life either. I know Alison doesn't like every decision she has made in her life either, like marrying me. (What, a little humor isn't allowed? Screw you. That was funny.) But we are good people doing the best we can in a life that we didnt plan for, we didnt ask for, and we dont know what we are doing.
I grew up religious. I stopped practicing 10 years ago when my dad died. I started practicing again almost 4 years ago when we found out Alison was pregnant. I know God doesn't judge us. I know God doesnt give us more than we can handle. Fine, its a cliche. Bite me. Its my cliche right now. I know there is a plan and we are supposed to just go with it. I get that.
What I don't get is why people think we arent doing everything humanly possible to get Tyler what he needs? Why people think we are bad people? I have screwed up. I admit it. I confess my sins. Don't judge me by my sins. Judge me by whether I have learned from those sins and made myself a better person. Judge me by whether the world is a bit better because of things I have done right, not what I have done wrong.
Look, we are human. We try. We do the best we can. I know God knows that. I know we try to remember that. But lets go back to the Golden Rule: if you dont have something nice to say to us, dont say anything at all. Life is hard enough without you judging us too.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
39 Acts
I posted a video to Facebook and twitter last week. It was my birthday topic. I don't know if topic is the right word. It was my birthday idea. Its what I did for my birthday. And it was simple (and borrowed): I did 39 acts of kindness for 39 people. Pretty simple. And it recently got me thinking about this.
My dad taught me about doing good deeds. He made sure he helped other people even when he may not have always had time. Maybe it was just a kind word to someone. Maybe it was slipping someone $20 because they were short. Maybe it was mentoring a young employee, even in a different company. Maybe it was spending time with a reporter to provide them with background so they understood a topic. He always tried to do good deeds.
I learned from that. Sometimes, however, I forgot it. It is easy to forget this. It is so simple, yet how many times do we actually do it? So I spent my birthday doing acts of kindness for others. It felt good.
As I sit tonight at home, after a long drive, and a lot of time to think, I wonder how many of us would spend our birthdays, or any day, doing things for strangers? Maybe its giving someone a $1 scratcher or buying a cup of coffee for them. Maybe its volunteering at your kid's school and filing papers for the office staff. Maybe its bringing balloons to the nursing home. Its easy to give these things lip service. Its harder to actually do them.
And I wonder, how many of our "public officials" would do them? Sure, they put on "events" but these events are election stunts. They do these things when there is a camera around or a newspaper reporter or a blogger or ..........well, you get the point. How many of them would do it just to do it and never say a word? Other than my wife, my neighbor and the principal of my kids' school, none of the people who received an act of kindness have any idea who I am. 36 people who received things without knowing who I am, why I did it or that it was something that was important to me. And that is how it should be.
I think I spent last week making the world a bit better. I know I made my town a bit better. I think that is what is important. I think my kids will be spending their birthdays doing it as well.
My dad taught me about doing good deeds. He made sure he helped other people even when he may not have always had time. Maybe it was just a kind word to someone. Maybe it was slipping someone $20 because they were short. Maybe it was mentoring a young employee, even in a different company. Maybe it was spending time with a reporter to provide them with background so they understood a topic. He always tried to do good deeds.
I learned from that. Sometimes, however, I forgot it. It is easy to forget this. It is so simple, yet how many times do we actually do it? So I spent my birthday doing acts of kindness for others. It felt good.
As I sit tonight at home, after a long drive, and a lot of time to think, I wonder how many of us would spend our birthdays, or any day, doing things for strangers? Maybe its giving someone a $1 scratcher or buying a cup of coffee for them. Maybe its volunteering at your kid's school and filing papers for the office staff. Maybe its bringing balloons to the nursing home. Its easy to give these things lip service. Its harder to actually do them.
And I wonder, how many of our "public officials" would do them? Sure, they put on "events" but these events are election stunts. They do these things when there is a camera around or a newspaper reporter or a blogger or ..........well, you get the point. How many of them would do it just to do it and never say a word? Other than my wife, my neighbor and the principal of my kids' school, none of the people who received an act of kindness have any idea who I am. 36 people who received things without knowing who I am, why I did it or that it was something that was important to me. And that is how it should be.
I think I spent last week making the world a bit better. I know I made my town a bit better. I think that is what is important. I think my kids will be spending their birthdays doing it as well.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
10 years
10 years ago today I got one of the two worst phone calls of my life. My mom called. My dad had died. He was in the hospital for a bowel obstruction. He called me and left me a message. I didn't call back because he was going to be home in a few days. It wasn't a big deal. Except, it was.
Since then, I have had two children, one, Miles, named for my dad. He reminds me so much of my dad. He even talks about getting his PhD. (Okay, so he doesn't call it his PhD but he wants to be Dr. Stein.) And, of course, my Brooklyn, my baby, my sweet girl. My dad would like her so much.
So much has happened in the last 10 years. While he saw me graduate from law school, he died before I was admitted to the Bar. He wasn't there when I opened my own law firm. He missed the birth of my baby.
There have been good times and bad times. But, tonight, its not about sadness. Its about honoring my dad. I tried to make today a good day. I spent the day with my kids. I enjoyed their company. And, tonight, I will have a cold one for my dad.
To the best man I ever knew....to the smartest man I ever knew...to the man who taught me that being a man isn't about being the toughest guy or the biggest guy or the strongest guy, but being a man is about taking care of your responsibilities, be it your wife and kids, your friends, or, rarely, kicking someone's ass, about doing your best work the first time and about living your life according to what is right........I love you dad and I miss you. And this one is for you tonight.
God Bless you, dad.
Since then, I have had two children, one, Miles, named for my dad. He reminds me so much of my dad. He even talks about getting his PhD. (Okay, so he doesn't call it his PhD but he wants to be Dr. Stein.) And, of course, my Brooklyn, my baby, my sweet girl. My dad would like her so much.
So much has happened in the last 10 years. While he saw me graduate from law school, he died before I was admitted to the Bar. He wasn't there when I opened my own law firm. He missed the birth of my baby.
There have been good times and bad times. But, tonight, its not about sadness. Its about honoring my dad. I tried to make today a good day. I spent the day with my kids. I enjoyed their company. And, tonight, I will have a cold one for my dad.
To the best man I ever knew....to the smartest man I ever knew...to the man who taught me that being a man isn't about being the toughest guy or the biggest guy or the strongest guy, but being a man is about taking care of your responsibilities, be it your wife and kids, your friends, or, rarely, kicking someone's ass, about doing your best work the first time and about living your life according to what is right........I love you dad and I miss you. And this one is for you tonight.
God Bless you, dad.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
On being a parent
I write this tonight at a strange point in my life, while I listen to Simon and Garfunkel, The Concert in Central Park. I watched this with my dad, every single time it was on PBS. I owned the tape, then the CD. Its on my iPod. I watch it, well listen to it, on Youtube. Thanks to whoever uploaded it in 5 easy to listen to parts. Why do I tell you this?
Lately, there has been this kid in the news, Tyrann Mathieu. They call him the Honey Badger. Seriously. That is his nickname. He is a football player, or was a football player, for LSU, that state school that is constantly competing for national championships in football. You see, Tyrann screwed up. He did something wrong, exactly what, we don't know. But he did something wrong. It probably involved drugs. He didn't do it once or twice, but three times. He got kicked out of school. He went into a rehab place. He has now re-enrolled in the school that kicked him out.
Let me get a few things clear from the beginning. I don't know this kid. Never met him. Watched him play football once or twice. He seems like a good kid. I think he is a good player. I believe in second chances and even third chances. I dont think LSU did anything wrong expelling him. I dont think the coach did anything wrong for kicking him off the team. I dont think his family did anything wrong getting him into rehab. I dont think the school did anything wrong in letting him back in. Give the kid another chance. He is just a kid, after all, and a kid who, if he screws up on a Saturday has to hear about it on tv, on the radio, in the newspaper, etc... all weekend. If he plays great, he hears what a hero he is all weekend. I cant imagine being him and that pressure.
So whats my beef? The media. Everyone from some podunk reporter in Louisiana to ESPN, the worldwide leader. Its not that they are covering this. I am sure its news, somehow. A kid in college who does drugs and gets kicked out? Sure. That doesnt happen every single day of the school year. It must be news. Oh wait, he plays football. So that makes it news. Yes, I get it.
What I don't get is why the media keeps calling his mom and dad his "adoptive mother" and his "adoptive father?" I have asked. Really. Check my twitter feed. I blasted people yesterday. I put it out on Facebook yesterday. Nothing. Not one single person got back to me with a real explanation as to why these folks are continually labeled with adoptive. Is that some sort of issue?
Seriously, I checked ESPN. 20 articles in the last couple of years describing people as "adoptive" parents. Zero describing someone as a biological parent. ZERO! That isn't twenty times more. Its an infinite number of times more. Do the math. Divide by zero. It doesn't work.
So I looked some more. Sylvester Stallone has lost two children. How many news articles referring to them as his biological children? ZERO. Over 500 referring to Tyrann's parents as his adoptive parents. You can't do that math. It just doesn't happen.
James Holmes murdered people in Colorado. How many news stories were there about his biological parents? None. Over 17,000 stories and none talk about his "biological parents." How many stories about murder talk about adoptive parents? Almost 1,000. Are adoptive parents second class citizens? Are we different?
We? Yes. I have 4 kids. I am the 3rd child of my parents. My mom and dad passed away. My mom died 18 months ago. My dad died almost 10 years ago. My parents had 3 kids. My brother and sister were adopted. I was a biological child. You know who my parents liked best? None of us. Okay, my mom probably liked my brother and sister better than me, but that had zero to do with how we came into her lives.
Of my 4 kids, three were adopted. All of my boys. My youngest is a little girl and is our biological child. You know who I love the most? All of them. Yeah, its cliche, but I love all of my kids the same. They are all my kids. And if you hurt any of them, I will hurt you. If you make them cry, I will make you cry. I don't care if its my special 12 year old, my mini-me 10 year old, my musically inclined 8 year old or my little princess. You hurt them and I hurt you. Is that clear?
Oh, and while I am at it, if any of my kids get in the newspaper and you call me their adoptive parent, I will make sure I call you every name in the book. Clear?
I just simply do not get it. I am a parent. I have the same obligations to my boys as I do to my daughter. I love them the same. I take care of them the same. I would do anything for any of them. I am sure Tyrann Mathieu's parents would tell you the same thing. They don't think of him as their adopted son. He sure as heck doesn't go around and say "I love you adoptive dad" or "I love you adoptive mom." He says "I love you dad" and "I love you mom."
So, dear folks in the media, why, oh why, do you try to create a difference? Its a difference that does not exist. Its a difference that you have made up for no reason. Its a difference that just creates differences. It serves no purpose. I think words should be used when they have a meaning, when they add to a story. What is added by calling his parents adoptive parents? Absolutely nothing. Its like calling someone a white running back.
Lets please stop with the nonsense. Tyrann seems like a good kid. His problems have nothing to do with being adopted and his parents are his parents, not his adoptive parents. Lets just call it like it is: he is a kid going through a rough patch and his family is there for him. I dont care if his parents adopted him, hatched him or found him on Mars. I am glad his family is there for him.
Parents are parents. As a guy who misses his parents, trust me, it doesnt matter how they become your parents. Once they are gone, you miss them tremendously.
Lately, there has been this kid in the news, Tyrann Mathieu. They call him the Honey Badger. Seriously. That is his nickname. He is a football player, or was a football player, for LSU, that state school that is constantly competing for national championships in football. You see, Tyrann screwed up. He did something wrong, exactly what, we don't know. But he did something wrong. It probably involved drugs. He didn't do it once or twice, but three times. He got kicked out of school. He went into a rehab place. He has now re-enrolled in the school that kicked him out.
Let me get a few things clear from the beginning. I don't know this kid. Never met him. Watched him play football once or twice. He seems like a good kid. I think he is a good player. I believe in second chances and even third chances. I dont think LSU did anything wrong expelling him. I dont think the coach did anything wrong for kicking him off the team. I dont think his family did anything wrong getting him into rehab. I dont think the school did anything wrong in letting him back in. Give the kid another chance. He is just a kid, after all, and a kid who, if he screws up on a Saturday has to hear about it on tv, on the radio, in the newspaper, etc... all weekend. If he plays great, he hears what a hero he is all weekend. I cant imagine being him and that pressure.
So whats my beef? The media. Everyone from some podunk reporter in Louisiana to ESPN, the worldwide leader. Its not that they are covering this. I am sure its news, somehow. A kid in college who does drugs and gets kicked out? Sure. That doesnt happen every single day of the school year. It must be news. Oh wait, he plays football. So that makes it news. Yes, I get it.
What I don't get is why the media keeps calling his mom and dad his "adoptive mother" and his "adoptive father?" I have asked. Really. Check my twitter feed. I blasted people yesterday. I put it out on Facebook yesterday. Nothing. Not one single person got back to me with a real explanation as to why these folks are continually labeled with adoptive. Is that some sort of issue?
Seriously, I checked ESPN. 20 articles in the last couple of years describing people as "adoptive" parents. Zero describing someone as a biological parent. ZERO! That isn't twenty times more. Its an infinite number of times more. Do the math. Divide by zero. It doesn't work.
So I looked some more. Sylvester Stallone has lost two children. How many news articles referring to them as his biological children? ZERO. Over 500 referring to Tyrann's parents as his adoptive parents. You can't do that math. It just doesn't happen.
James Holmes murdered people in Colorado. How many news stories were there about his biological parents? None. Over 17,000 stories and none talk about his "biological parents." How many stories about murder talk about adoptive parents? Almost 1,000. Are adoptive parents second class citizens? Are we different?
We? Yes. I have 4 kids. I am the 3rd child of my parents. My mom and dad passed away. My mom died 18 months ago. My dad died almost 10 years ago. My parents had 3 kids. My brother and sister were adopted. I was a biological child. You know who my parents liked best? None of us. Okay, my mom probably liked my brother and sister better than me, but that had zero to do with how we came into her lives.
Of my 4 kids, three were adopted. All of my boys. My youngest is a little girl and is our biological child. You know who I love the most? All of them. Yeah, its cliche, but I love all of my kids the same. They are all my kids. And if you hurt any of them, I will hurt you. If you make them cry, I will make you cry. I don't care if its my special 12 year old, my mini-me 10 year old, my musically inclined 8 year old or my little princess. You hurt them and I hurt you. Is that clear?
Oh, and while I am at it, if any of my kids get in the newspaper and you call me their adoptive parent, I will make sure I call you every name in the book. Clear?
I just simply do not get it. I am a parent. I have the same obligations to my boys as I do to my daughter. I love them the same. I take care of them the same. I would do anything for any of them. I am sure Tyrann Mathieu's parents would tell you the same thing. They don't think of him as their adopted son. He sure as heck doesn't go around and say "I love you adoptive dad" or "I love you adoptive mom." He says "I love you dad" and "I love you mom."
So, dear folks in the media, why, oh why, do you try to create a difference? Its a difference that does not exist. Its a difference that you have made up for no reason. Its a difference that just creates differences. It serves no purpose. I think words should be used when they have a meaning, when they add to a story. What is added by calling his parents adoptive parents? Absolutely nothing. Its like calling someone a white running back.
Lets please stop with the nonsense. Tyrann seems like a good kid. His problems have nothing to do with being adopted and his parents are his parents, not his adoptive parents. Lets just call it like it is: he is a kid going through a rough patch and his family is there for him. I dont care if his parents adopted him, hatched him or found him on Mars. I am glad his family is there for him.
Parents are parents. As a guy who misses his parents, trust me, it doesnt matter how they become your parents. Once they are gone, you miss them tremendously.
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