It's kind of a funny word, PEACE. In Latin, the word is pax. En espanol, esta la pas. It's funny because it has all kinds of meanings. And those meanings differ for each person. For some, "Peace on Earth" means no wars, no killings, no bloodshed in the name of whatever god the killers choose. Living in New York City, I see enough of it. This city is ecstatic because 2011 is on track to have to the third fewest murders in its history. The projection yesterday was that nearly 500 people will be murdered in this city. And our leaders are happy about that. I'm not. But that's not the "peace" I seek. And I don't think that's the "peace" most people seek.
That "peace" is that feeling deep inside us that is quiet and happy. It is that depth of soul that all of us seek, and spend our lives seeking. It listens to others and to ourselves and our desires and longings. It wants to spread. It is joyful, it is happy, it is wondrous. I think I've experienced that "peace" a couple of times in my life. But I'm human and I couldn't sustain it or retain it. So I still seek it. And I still seek its source.
Some would suggest that peace comes from God. I think, perhaps, that is true. However God incarnates in each person is where peace can be found. But we are human, and we don't welcome that incarnation very often. I know I don't. It scares the crap out of me. Asking God to become incarnate in me is a scary thing. Kind of makes me think about how Jesus felt (having the personal and resolute belief Jesus truly is the Messiah, the Son of God). There is so much pain and so much joy in asking God to do that in me.
My life has changed very radically this year. And, with that, the lives of people I love very much has also changed very radically this year. And as I was (and am) going through that change, I lost track of those people that I love and lost track of how my change effected them. I feel it very palpably tonight on Christmas Eve. And I believe that feeling that I am experiencing right now is the exact opposite of "peace". Call it guilt, call it regret, call it whatever you will, it's not a good feeling. Christmas carols (not even Amy Grant) can change that. And maybe that's the way it needs to be.
But I still seek peace. And my life is about seeking that peace. And bringing that peace to others, especially those who I love with all my heart, soul, and being. And you know who you are. I miss you so much, but especially tonight. And as I seek that elusive peace within myself, I pray it into you. Because you deserve it far more than I do. Your patience and love and acceptance of me as I am humbles me and brings me to tears more often than you know.
Yet, Christmas still comes. Insistent this holiday is. I've resisted it, more to resist the feelings I have now than anything. I'm still not good at crying, although I'm getting lots of practice. But it still comes. And the world is joyful and happy. And it should be, Christmas means so much to our world. And it means so much to me as well. Sadly, a lot of what it means for me isn't here today. So I must seek it somewhere. I MUST SEEK PEACE. And we all must seek peace.
Be Born in Us Today. Please.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Ohana
My beautiful daughter, Maggie, reminded me of this phrase today (by now, yesterday). It means, loosely translated, that our blood relatives are not forgotten or left behind. As I sit here, very early on Christmas Eve morning, I must admit that I am feeling both left behind (which would be my choice) and forgotten (which isn't my choice).
There are three people in my life that I love to the very core of my being. They are my children. Maggie, Katie, and Tom. And they have no idea how sad I am that I am not there to spend Christmas with them.
You see, Christmas evolved with our family as we got older. It evolved into us spending time with one another. Just being together. I didn't (for lots of reasons) appreciate that. I think those three, and perhaps four and now five, people did. I do, now that I'm not there to spend it with them. Those traditions that we grew together (you all better be eating prime rib for supper, exchanging gifts downstairs, and then going to Midnight Mass tonight), they are what fuel us. And they still fuel me, although I'm not there physically to share it. And you can't imagine how sad that makes me feel. And while I'm not there in body, know that I am there in spirit.
Know that the Birth of Jesus means something. Know that the Incarnation is important. I'm going to find a place here to celebrate it with you in spirit. I am sad and regretful that I cannot, and choose not to, be with you on this lovely day. But I also realize that the train of our lives must try very hard to keep on its track, not knowing where it is eventually headed. But the track is already laid, no matter how curvy it can be, and the Layer is leading us on it. I trust Him, even in those times He is silent.
And in that Silence, I seek peace. And isn't that the true meaning of this season? Seek Peace. I am looking with an open mind and open heart.
But I miss my family terribly. And I can only hope they miss me. Although chances are...
There are three people in my life that I love to the very core of my being. They are my children. Maggie, Katie, and Tom. And they have no idea how sad I am that I am not there to spend Christmas with them.
You see, Christmas evolved with our family as we got older. It evolved into us spending time with one another. Just being together. I didn't (for lots of reasons) appreciate that. I think those three, and perhaps four and now five, people did. I do, now that I'm not there to spend it with them. Those traditions that we grew together (you all better be eating prime rib for supper, exchanging gifts downstairs, and then going to Midnight Mass tonight), they are what fuel us. And they still fuel me, although I'm not there physically to share it. And you can't imagine how sad that makes me feel. And while I'm not there in body, know that I am there in spirit.
Know that the Birth of Jesus means something. Know that the Incarnation is important. I'm going to find a place here to celebrate it with you in spirit. I am sad and regretful that I cannot, and choose not to, be with you on this lovely day. But I also realize that the train of our lives must try very hard to keep on its track, not knowing where it is eventually headed. But the track is already laid, no matter how curvy it can be, and the Layer is leading us on it. I trust Him, even in those times He is silent.
And in that Silence, I seek peace. And isn't that the true meaning of this season? Seek Peace. I am looking with an open mind and open heart.
But I miss my family terribly. And I can only hope they miss me. Although chances are...
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
More Later...
it has been an eventful week or so on the #8 train, that's for sure... But tonight it just stopped cold in it's tracks. I will post more in the next couple of days when I have a few minutes to spare (which may not be until sometime over the weekend) to let everyone know what I've been up to, but tonight couldn't go by without writing something.
The Christmas season is wonderful. It really is, and I've eschewed it almost my entire life by waiting to get my shopping done, really trying to joyfully celebrate Advent, etc. But now that I'm in New York, it's kind of hard to escape it. I've tried, I really have. We have our "Holiday Party" at Information Builders tomorrow. It's not a big deal (not like what they used to be from what I've heard). It's from 1-3 at a bar. We get beer, wine, and some appetizers. Whoopee. That, folks, was going to be the extent of my holiday celebration this year and I was (and am) kind of looking forward to it. But a couple of weeks ago, that was going to be the extent of my holiday celebration.
I went out for sushi (duh) with some co-workers of mine tonight. When I got home tonight, there was a box waiting for me outside my door. In that box was some garland and some lights, a beautiful shark, a mint tree, a beautful shark, and hand wrapped ornaments from my grandmother. My daughters wrapped all of this up for me so that my Christmas could be a little less lonely. That was an hour or so ago and I haven't stopped crying. It was the single most beautiful thing I have ever received (in collective) because it was meant to help me not feel as alone as I am feeling. And I appreciate it more than they will ever know. And I love them and am more proud of them than I could ever express. The only thing I wish right now is that they were both here (with their brother) so that I could give them a giant hug and tell them that.
But the #8 train made some choices and he has to live with them. Some of them are great, some of them are painful. But during this season of peace and joy, it's good to know that people wish that for me as much as I wish it for them.
I love you!
The Christmas season is wonderful. It really is, and I've eschewed it almost my entire life by waiting to get my shopping done, really trying to joyfully celebrate Advent, etc. But now that I'm in New York, it's kind of hard to escape it. I've tried, I really have. We have our "Holiday Party" at Information Builders tomorrow. It's not a big deal (not like what they used to be from what I've heard). It's from 1-3 at a bar. We get beer, wine, and some appetizers. Whoopee. That, folks, was going to be the extent of my holiday celebration this year and I was (and am) kind of looking forward to it. But a couple of weeks ago, that was going to be the extent of my holiday celebration.
I went out for sushi (duh) with some co-workers of mine tonight. When I got home tonight, there was a box waiting for me outside my door. In that box was some garland and some lights, a beautiful shark, a mint tree, a beautful shark, and hand wrapped ornaments from my grandmother. My daughters wrapped all of this up for me so that my Christmas could be a little less lonely. That was an hour or so ago and I haven't stopped crying. It was the single most beautiful thing I have ever received (in collective) because it was meant to help me not feel as alone as I am feeling. And I appreciate it more than they will ever know. And I love them and am more proud of them than I could ever express. The only thing I wish right now is that they were both here (with their brother) so that I could give them a giant hug and tell them that.
But the #8 train made some choices and he has to live with them. Some of them are great, some of them are painful. But during this season of peace and joy, it's good to know that people wish that for me as much as I wish it for them.
I love you!
Friday, November 25, 2011
Happy Day After Thanksgiving!
Thanksgiving is a wonderful holiday. I think it's meaning has evolved a little into preparing the turkey and eating wonderful foods and spending a day simply relaxing (for those not preparing the turkey and foods!) with family. And I think that's wonderful, and I really missed it this year.
My Thanksgiving was different. I spent it alone, by choice. I spent it taking some time to reflect on all of the things in my life I am thankful for right now. There was some pain and hurt inside me due to some of the decisions I've made over the past year in coming out here and, now, choosing to remain and learning that I am truly more alone than I thought I really was. And all that pain and hurt is exacerbated on holidays like Thanksgiving. But I thought about what I'm thankful for...
My family is the primary source of my thankfulness. It's taken me to move away from them and begin to grow up myself to realize how truly thankful I am for all of them and how much I love them. I'm thankful for my friends, those that are truly my friends, who help pick me up and support me as my life transitions. I'm grateful for finally realizing that the most important thing I have is myself and I'm thankful that I am finally coming to a point in my life where I can actually face myself, the good and the bad, very openly and honestly. And I'm thankful there are people who are helping me face that, and not thinking any less of me for doing so.
I went to see the balloons at the Museum of Natural History on Wednesday night. Apparently, this used to be a very cool, very Manhattan experience in the "old days" according to people that live here. It's become kind of a zoo, as does everything in this city, but it also was pretty wonderful. I brought my camera with me and took some pretty cool pictures! Because one of my favorite bars in the city (Bourbon Street) is close to there, that ended up being where I went and hung out for a while. Met and talked with some pretty decent people in town for the holidays who have moved away and were just happy to be back in the city. It was a good time.
Yesterday was my "day of reflection". it began by going to the Thanksgiving Parade. I thought I would be smart and go watch it at Columbus Circle and get there at 9am. Well, I wasn't the only person with that plan. I had a lousy view of the parade, so I saw a couple of balloons and took some pictures of them, then came home to watch it on TV. (N.B., if you are a tourist in this city, please don't stand in front of people trying to take pictures with your damn iPad. It's annoying and rude.)
You see the outcome of that day above, so it really was a pretty productive day after all! I ended up getting a TV dinner (ok, roast turkey with potatoes and stuffing) from Gristedes after the Lions/Packers game. Watched the Cowboys/Dolphins game and relaxed and reflected. As I said above, it was a painful, yet productive day.
Black Friday is here and I am preparing to venture out into the city with my little camera and see what's going on. I have a pretty open agenda today. I think I'm going to take the subway down to Penn Station, then start walking home. I'm not sure what I'm doing or where I'm going or where the wind wants to take me today, but right now it's 56 degrees here and should be in the mid-60s this afternoon with not a cloud in the sky. It would be pretty silly of me to spend this beautiful day inside!
To those who read my blog (and it doesn't appear there are many, which is fine), I wish you peace as I search for it in my mind and heart.
My Thanksgiving was different. I spent it alone, by choice. I spent it taking some time to reflect on all of the things in my life I am thankful for right now. There was some pain and hurt inside me due to some of the decisions I've made over the past year in coming out here and, now, choosing to remain and learning that I am truly more alone than I thought I really was. And all that pain and hurt is exacerbated on holidays like Thanksgiving. But I thought about what I'm thankful for...
My family is the primary source of my thankfulness. It's taken me to move away from them and begin to grow up myself to realize how truly thankful I am for all of them and how much I love them. I'm thankful for my friends, those that are truly my friends, who help pick me up and support me as my life transitions. I'm grateful for finally realizing that the most important thing I have is myself and I'm thankful that I am finally coming to a point in my life where I can actually face myself, the good and the bad, very openly and honestly. And I'm thankful there are people who are helping me face that, and not thinking any less of me for doing so.
I went to see the balloons at the Museum of Natural History on Wednesday night. Apparently, this used to be a very cool, very Manhattan experience in the "old days" according to people that live here. It's become kind of a zoo, as does everything in this city, but it also was pretty wonderful. I brought my camera with me and took some pretty cool pictures! Because one of my favorite bars in the city (Bourbon Street) is close to there, that ended up being where I went and hung out for a while. Met and talked with some pretty decent people in town for the holidays who have moved away and were just happy to be back in the city. It was a good time.
Yesterday was my "day of reflection". it began by going to the Thanksgiving Parade. I thought I would be smart and go watch it at Columbus Circle and get there at 9am. Well, I wasn't the only person with that plan. I had a lousy view of the parade, so I saw a couple of balloons and took some pictures of them, then came home to watch it on TV. (N.B., if you are a tourist in this city, please don't stand in front of people trying to take pictures with your damn iPad. It's annoying and rude.)
You see the outcome of that day above, so it really was a pretty productive day after all! I ended up getting a TV dinner (ok, roast turkey with potatoes and stuffing) from Gristedes after the Lions/Packers game. Watched the Cowboys/Dolphins game and relaxed and reflected. As I said above, it was a painful, yet productive day.
Black Friday is here and I am preparing to venture out into the city with my little camera and see what's going on. I have a pretty open agenda today. I think I'm going to take the subway down to Penn Station, then start walking home. I'm not sure what I'm doing or where I'm going or where the wind wants to take me today, but right now it's 56 degrees here and should be in the mid-60s this afternoon with not a cloud in the sky. It would be pretty silly of me to spend this beautiful day inside!
To those who read my blog (and it doesn't appear there are many, which is fine), I wish you peace as I search for it in my mind and heart.
Friday, November 11, 2011
The Train Goes to Happy Valley
The tragic events at Pennsylvania State University that have finally come to light in the past week are causing a detour on the train this week.
I know a lot of people who attended Penn State. I know a lot of people who bleed dark blue and white. I know a lot of people who are broken-hearted over what has happened.
The reality, and I think Chris Fowler on ESPN said it best, is that the trustees at the university had zero choice in the actions they took yesterday to dismiss the iconic Joe Paterno, the athletic director, and the university president. The justifiable outrage over the allegations was enough to seal their fates. Should they prove true, one can only imagine the ongoing damage, both in reputation and fiscally, this will be for Penn State.
But the train isn't detouring to reflect on what other people are saying, it's detouring to offer a perspective. Can anyone else name an institution that has had this problem of pedophiles ongoing abhorrent behavior being tacitly allowed by non-reporting to civic authorities? I sure can. Now I would ask you to think about the faith histories of the men involved in this situation at Penn State.
It is a safe bet that the men that were involved in this are all practicing Roman Catholics. And the Church has modeled the behavior all of them followed for centuries. It allowed a pedophile to continue molesting children, people who knew didn't stop it, and didn't report it to the police. It is my belief, right or wrong, that the men who did not report this abuse to the police acted EXACTLY like their pastors and bishops have acted over the years. And that, my friends, is very sad.
Because the problem isn't pedophilia. It happens. I can't understand it, nor do I condone it. But it is a psychological illness. The problem is in the non reporting of the actions when they occur. Because in the non reporting is the tacit acceptance of the behavior. And that not only makes me sad, it makes me sick. The fact that someone saw an abusor "in action", did nothing to stop it (which I am still struggling with, as I yell at people for littering), told his boss, who told his boss, who told his boss, and all along that line, NOBODY DID ANYTHING.
It is my hope that the entire country, and to some degree even the Church, learns something from this and does not accept non reporting of abusive acts on children. We can't accept that as a society.
I know a lot of people who attended Penn State. I know a lot of people who bleed dark blue and white. I know a lot of people who are broken-hearted over what has happened.
The reality, and I think Chris Fowler on ESPN said it best, is that the trustees at the university had zero choice in the actions they took yesterday to dismiss the iconic Joe Paterno, the athletic director, and the university president. The justifiable outrage over the allegations was enough to seal their fates. Should they prove true, one can only imagine the ongoing damage, both in reputation and fiscally, this will be for Penn State.
But the train isn't detouring to reflect on what other people are saying, it's detouring to offer a perspective. Can anyone else name an institution that has had this problem of pedophiles ongoing abhorrent behavior being tacitly allowed by non-reporting to civic authorities? I sure can. Now I would ask you to think about the faith histories of the men involved in this situation at Penn State.
It is a safe bet that the men that were involved in this are all practicing Roman Catholics. And the Church has modeled the behavior all of them followed for centuries. It allowed a pedophile to continue molesting children, people who knew didn't stop it, and didn't report it to the police. It is my belief, right or wrong, that the men who did not report this abuse to the police acted EXACTLY like their pastors and bishops have acted over the years. And that, my friends, is very sad.
Because the problem isn't pedophilia. It happens. I can't understand it, nor do I condone it. But it is a psychological illness. The problem is in the non reporting of the actions when they occur. Because in the non reporting is the tacit acceptance of the behavior. And that not only makes me sad, it makes me sick. The fact that someone saw an abusor "in action", did nothing to stop it (which I am still struggling with, as I yell at people for littering), told his boss, who told his boss, who told his boss, and all along that line, NOBODY DID ANYTHING.
It is my hope that the entire country, and to some degree even the Church, learns something from this and does not accept non reporting of abusive acts on children. We can't accept that as a society.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Marathon Weekend in NYC!!!
Normally, I don't get real excited about marathons. When I lived in the Twin Cities, I knew it was the first weekend in October. But that was about it. I never went to see it, despite having brothers and sisters running in it. I'm just not that big of a fan of running. And that was OK. Then I moved here.
New Yorkers have a tendency to make a big deal out of things. They have HUGE parades. It's hard not to mention the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and New Years Eve in Times Square. Any time there's an 'event' in or around the city, it really does come to life. Thankfully, there are a lot of events here and the city comes to life an awful lot. It was amazing to be here during the US Open tennis tournament and see how many people in this city actually care about tennis. During that month, everyone cares about tennis.
The ING NYC Marathon is one of these events. There has been extensive media coverage about it, not to mention the advertising one sees almost everywhere. We are expecting 47,000 runners to run 26.2 miles through the 5 boroughs and end up about 3 miles away from me down in Central Park. The course looks phenomenal. There will be about 3 million spectators along the route, joined by about 130 bands. The east side of the city will pretty much be shut down most of the afternoon to traffic. It is an amazing event. We even had fireworks in Central Park last night!
And all of that is really cool. And I'm going to watch the marathon, just like 2,999,999 other New Yorkers. But I'm watching it for a very special reason. My brother, Jim, and his wife Karla, along with four of their friends from back in Minnesota will be running in the NYC Marathon this year. It will be Jim's 20th marathon and he is very excited. And I am excited for him.
The entourage got here on Thursday night. They took public transportation (yes, M60 bus) from LaGuardia. They are staying very near Columbus Circle on the south end of Central Park. And they've been busy since they got here! I was able to meet up with them when I got home from Seattle last night. I met them at Columbus Circle. We walked down to Times Square. It's only my opinion, but if it's your first time in New York City, you really do need to go to Times Square. We put our name in at Tony's on 43rd and Broadway, walked back up to Rockefeller Center, then back down to Tony's for a GREAT dinner (it was fantastic food and even better than Jim and I could sit and have a private conversation and get caught up), then back to where they are staying. It really was fun.
Today, they did a couple of visitor things. They went to the 9/11 Memorial. Their word is that it's going to be a very special place when it's all done. I have yet to go to the Memorial itself, but have been down to the site a few times. From there they went to (what the ladies convinced Jim) Chinatown. Magically, Canal Street beckoned. Shopping was done. They called me as they were walking to Grand Central to let me know they were on the way. Some hurried last minute cleaning was done, and I had visitors! We went to the Metro Diner for supper, then they went back to get their gear ready for tomorrow and do some high quality resting and zoning out.
I plan on seeing them in the race a couple of times tomorrow. Hopefully when they come into Manhattan around 59th Street and 1st Avenue, then again somewhere in Central Park. Once the race is over, we'll meet again for dinner and kicking it a little bit. I am really looking forward to it!
The #8 train is rolling! And trying to find a track. One of these days, one will appear. Until then, it's going to roll along and keep looking...
New Yorkers have a tendency to make a big deal out of things. They have HUGE parades. It's hard not to mention the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and New Years Eve in Times Square. Any time there's an 'event' in or around the city, it really does come to life. Thankfully, there are a lot of events here and the city comes to life an awful lot. It was amazing to be here during the US Open tennis tournament and see how many people in this city actually care about tennis. During that month, everyone cares about tennis.
The ING NYC Marathon is one of these events. There has been extensive media coverage about it, not to mention the advertising one sees almost everywhere. We are expecting 47,000 runners to run 26.2 miles through the 5 boroughs and end up about 3 miles away from me down in Central Park. The course looks phenomenal. There will be about 3 million spectators along the route, joined by about 130 bands. The east side of the city will pretty much be shut down most of the afternoon to traffic. It is an amazing event. We even had fireworks in Central Park last night!
And all of that is really cool. And I'm going to watch the marathon, just like 2,999,999 other New Yorkers. But I'm watching it for a very special reason. My brother, Jim, and his wife Karla, along with four of their friends from back in Minnesota will be running in the NYC Marathon this year. It will be Jim's 20th marathon and he is very excited. And I am excited for him.
The entourage got here on Thursday night. They took public transportation (yes, M60 bus) from LaGuardia. They are staying very near Columbus Circle on the south end of Central Park. And they've been busy since they got here! I was able to meet up with them when I got home from Seattle last night. I met them at Columbus Circle. We walked down to Times Square. It's only my opinion, but if it's your first time in New York City, you really do need to go to Times Square. We put our name in at Tony's on 43rd and Broadway, walked back up to Rockefeller Center, then back down to Tony's for a GREAT dinner (it was fantastic food and even better than Jim and I could sit and have a private conversation and get caught up), then back to where they are staying. It really was fun.
Today, they did a couple of visitor things. They went to the 9/11 Memorial. Their word is that it's going to be a very special place when it's all done. I have yet to go to the Memorial itself, but have been down to the site a few times. From there they went to (what the ladies convinced Jim) Chinatown. Magically, Canal Street beckoned. Shopping was done. They called me as they were walking to Grand Central to let me know they were on the way. Some hurried last minute cleaning was done, and I had visitors! We went to the Metro Diner for supper, then they went back to get their gear ready for tomorrow and do some high quality resting and zoning out.
I plan on seeing them in the race a couple of times tomorrow. Hopefully when they come into Manhattan around 59th Street and 1st Avenue, then again somewhere in Central Park. Once the race is over, we'll meet again for dinner and kicking it a little bit. I am really looking forward to it!
The #8 train is rolling! And trying to find a track. One of these days, one will appear. Until then, it's going to roll along and keep looking...
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Happy All Saints Day!
while many believe that Halloween is one great feast (and I spent the better of my evening last night in Greenwich Village with people who spend 364 days each year living for it), this one is better...
Thank you, Uncle James. Your quiet support of your family and the community of South Saint Paul (despite the fact you went to Cretin) was wonderful. Thank you, Uncle John. Despite the fact you didn't spend a lot of time in my life, you were my first exposure to Downs Syndrome and got me through college. Thank you, Uncle Don. I'm sad I didn't get to know you and even sadder that I can't. Thank you, Uncle Rich. You served your community well and people still talk about how hard you worked. ;) Thank you to all of my family that has gone before me.
Thank you Dad, Thank you Mom. Thank you Gram, Thank you Pappy. My heart and my soul miss you so much right now. I am not sure if you would be proud of me for some of the choices I have made in the recent past, but I am getting to happy. And I am definitely getting to be an emotional grown up. Be happy for that. Rejoice as I grow. And don't be afraid to visit my spirit every once in a while. Because I still love you and miss you more than you could ever know. When you were here, I wasn't grown up enough to talk to you the way I should. I am now. And I will talk to you. So from that dining room table where you're having roast beef (and giving all the fat to Pappy) and solving the worlds' problems, take some time to talk about me. And let some of that grace drip down. Because I really need it.
I love you. You are my saints.
All Saints Day is a holy day within the Catholic Church to honor those who have been identified as saints (that's today) and, according to the church, are in heaven. All Souls Day is a commemoration to remember all those who have died, but the church says they can't guarantee they are in heaven. Nice. If we believe (as I do) that God makes that determination...
Pray for me, Uncles James, Don, John, and Rich. Pray for me, Mom, Dad, Pappy, and Gram. Pray for me those who I have known who have passed before me and are now with God. Today is your day. And I honor YOU.
Thank you, Uncle James. Your quiet support of your family and the community of South Saint Paul (despite the fact you went to Cretin) was wonderful. Thank you, Uncle John. Despite the fact you didn't spend a lot of time in my life, you were my first exposure to Downs Syndrome and got me through college. Thank you, Uncle Don. I'm sad I didn't get to know you and even sadder that I can't. Thank you, Uncle Rich. You served your community well and people still talk about how hard you worked. ;) Thank you to all of my family that has gone before me.
Thank you Dad, Thank you Mom. Thank you Gram, Thank you Pappy. My heart and my soul miss you so much right now. I am not sure if you would be proud of me for some of the choices I have made in the recent past, but I am getting to happy. And I am definitely getting to be an emotional grown up. Be happy for that. Rejoice as I grow. And don't be afraid to visit my spirit every once in a while. Because I still love you and miss you more than you could ever know. When you were here, I wasn't grown up enough to talk to you the way I should. I am now. And I will talk to you. So from that dining room table where you're having roast beef (and giving all the fat to Pappy) and solving the worlds' problems, take some time to talk about me. And let some of that grace drip down. Because I really need it.
I love you. You are my saints.
All Saints Day is a holy day within the Catholic Church to honor those who have been identified as saints (that's today) and, according to the church, are in heaven. All Souls Day is a commemoration to remember all those who have died, but the church says they can't guarantee they are in heaven. Nice. If we believe (as I do) that God makes that determination...
Pray for me, Uncles James, Don, John, and Rich. Pray for me, Mom, Dad, Pappy, and Gram. Pray for me those who I have known who have passed before me and are now with God. Today is your day. And I honor YOU.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Skol, Tom!
One would think after such a momentous victory by the Vikings today over the Carolina Panthers on the road that I would extol the victors and spend some time composing what they must do to become a contender for the Lombardi Trophy. I'm not a sportswriter and, in the end, other than for about 5 hours on a Sunday afternoon, I really don't care all that much. The NFL really is a great diversion.
My son, Tom, turns 20 years old tomorrow. Yes, his birthday is on Halloween. And, yes, he was born the same day the Twin Cities welcomed it's greatest snowfall in a 24 and then a 48 hour period in its recorded history. I can (and do) tell lots of stories about that day. It ranks as one of the top 3 days in my life (there's a 3-way tie at the top for #1). But that's not what I want to write about today, either.
My son and I spoke for the first time in months a couple of days ago. That conversation reinforced that I love him very much, so much that I don't think he can understand how much I do. And, yes, I love his sisters that much, too. But, in all fairness, I started this blog after their birthdays (don't worry, girls, you'll get yours soon enough) and his is tomorrow.
I don't know what people expect their sons to be. I see lots of kids participating in sports when they are young. I see their fathers just as involved in those sports as their sons. I see the fathers pushing their sons beyond their God-given ability in sports in an attempt to become the next [fill in the blank] and living vicariously through their sons. I see those same sons get burnt out of sports before they even get to high school, learning how to resent the sport, and their father. I see them "sticking it out" so they don't let their father down. Instead, they let themselves down. They stay involved in these activities and eschew others where they may be better suited. It's hard to let your father down. But sometimes, that needs to happen.
And it's hard to let your kids down. As a father, I did that. I got all my kids involved in things I thought they would enjoy. But because I am a father, and Tom is my son, we did a bunch of things together. We were very involved in Scouts (where I learned the above lesson), I coached a soccer team, I did what I could. Then I got this new job and started to not be as involved. And not be as smothering. That's when Tom shone like a beacon and I learned the greatest lesson of fatherhood.
As a father, you need to STEP BACK. Let your kids be themselves. Don't lay unrealistic expectations on them. Don't expect more from them than what they want. Don't dream their dreams for them. Do be there once in a while to let them know that they're doing well. And that you're proud of them. Do let them know that you love them. But step back and them handle it.
Those lessons, though, are hard. Stepping back is hard. Letting kids make mistakes and letting them grow up is hard. Keeping your expectations to yourself is hard. Not living vicariously through them is hard. Telling them that they are doing well, that you are proud of them, and that you love them is hard.
My son is now a sophomore at Saint John's University in Collegeville, Minnesota. He is studying to be a high school English teacher. He is in an improv troupe, has a job, and on the radio every Sunday. Before he went to college, Tom was the president of the Student Council at Park High School. He acted in plays. He was a Life Scout. He played an important role in his school transitioning to a 4-year school. He was part of his Homecoming royalty when he was a senior. And I wasn't there for a lot of that, and I deeply regret not being there to share some of those moments with him. And when I moved out here to ride the #8 train, I made a choice to not be there for other things as well. And that makes me sad.
I am proud of my son and I love him very much. He has done more than he knows in helping me try to become the person I hope he can someday be proud to call his father.
Happy Birthday, Tom! I love you!
My son, Tom, turns 20 years old tomorrow. Yes, his birthday is on Halloween. And, yes, he was born the same day the Twin Cities welcomed it's greatest snowfall in a 24 and then a 48 hour period in its recorded history. I can (and do) tell lots of stories about that day. It ranks as one of the top 3 days in my life (there's a 3-way tie at the top for #1). But that's not what I want to write about today, either.
My son and I spoke for the first time in months a couple of days ago. That conversation reinforced that I love him very much, so much that I don't think he can understand how much I do. And, yes, I love his sisters that much, too. But, in all fairness, I started this blog after their birthdays (don't worry, girls, you'll get yours soon enough) and his is tomorrow.
I don't know what people expect their sons to be. I see lots of kids participating in sports when they are young. I see their fathers just as involved in those sports as their sons. I see the fathers pushing their sons beyond their God-given ability in sports in an attempt to become the next [fill in the blank] and living vicariously through their sons. I see those same sons get burnt out of sports before they even get to high school, learning how to resent the sport, and their father. I see them "sticking it out" so they don't let their father down. Instead, they let themselves down. They stay involved in these activities and eschew others where they may be better suited. It's hard to let your father down. But sometimes, that needs to happen.
And it's hard to let your kids down. As a father, I did that. I got all my kids involved in things I thought they would enjoy. But because I am a father, and Tom is my son, we did a bunch of things together. We were very involved in Scouts (where I learned the above lesson), I coached a soccer team, I did what I could. Then I got this new job and started to not be as involved. And not be as smothering. That's when Tom shone like a beacon and I learned the greatest lesson of fatherhood.
As a father, you need to STEP BACK. Let your kids be themselves. Don't lay unrealistic expectations on them. Don't expect more from them than what they want. Don't dream their dreams for them. Do be there once in a while to let them know that they're doing well. And that you're proud of them. Do let them know that you love them. But step back and them handle it.
Those lessons, though, are hard. Stepping back is hard. Letting kids make mistakes and letting them grow up is hard. Keeping your expectations to yourself is hard. Not living vicariously through them is hard. Telling them that they are doing well, that you are proud of them, and that you love them is hard.
My son is now a sophomore at Saint John's University in Collegeville, Minnesota. He is studying to be a high school English teacher. He is in an improv troupe, has a job, and on the radio every Sunday. Before he went to college, Tom was the president of the Student Council at Park High School. He acted in plays. He was a Life Scout. He played an important role in his school transitioning to a 4-year school. He was part of his Homecoming royalty when he was a senior. And I wasn't there for a lot of that, and I deeply regret not being there to share some of those moments with him. And when I moved out here to ride the #8 train, I made a choice to not be there for other things as well. And that makes me sad.
I am proud of my son and I love him very much. He has done more than he knows in helping me try to become the person I hope he can someday be proud to call his father.
Happy Birthday, Tom! I love you!
Saturday, October 29, 2011
First Snow!
Today we are having our first snow of the season. I find it interesting that there hasn't been measureable snow in New York City this 'early' since 1952. Yes, you're reading that right. That was the year my MOTHER graduated from high school. So I guess this snow event here is kind of a big deal. People back in Minnesota are all surprised that it hasn't snowed there yet. It is beautiful and the city is still working, but I fear as the winds pick up later today that there will be some early shutdowns. Oh well....
Still trying to figure things to do out. My daughters provided wonderful suggestions about auditing classes at either Columbia or NYU (or maybe another university here in the city) and I'm looking into that. It's interesting trying to find things to do here in the city. Because there is so much going on, it's hard to find a place online where it all comes together so that there's a single place to go for the information one needs. It just doesn't exist. So finding things here is more about finding the right resources to find the right thing. Or anything for that matter. It can be time-consuming to actually find things to do with free time! Especially when one is alone and relatively new here. Where do you look?
There are some resources that people here use. Time Out New York is a weekly publication (it comes out on Wednesdays) that provides a pretty good idea of what's going on in the city. The movie and humorist I saw last week I found in that magazine. It's a very good resources. I found another resource as well, called "Club Free Time" that is an online resource that displays events (all kinds of them) that are free or low cost. It really looks like an interesting club, with annual membership dues of about $20. I'm thinking of joining, because one of my 'goals' in finding things to do is to find inexpensive or free things to do in New York. Kind of rules out Broadway plays and some of the higher end events, but there are all kinds of things to do that won't cost me an arm and a leg. And that's exciting.
Back to the snow... I hate snow. I hate cold. I left Minnesota to start escaping from it. I'm a little more south now, and who knows what the future will hold. But I'm guessing that it will involve me heading further and further south until 'snow' is something I see on television. But the snow now is going to keep me in tonight, that's for sure. The bonus is that it will allow me to get some cleaning done in preparation for the New Prague visit next weekend for the NYC Marathon
This doesn't mean that I was a hermit this week at all, though! I didn't really do anything special. I was in Washington DC early in the week (Monday and Tuesday), I was working on Wednesday and Thursday. Last night, I went to one of the locals taverns (Tap a Keg) to watch Game 7 of the World Series. I ended up sitting at the bar next to a saxophonist and we talked baseball through the entire game. Tomorrow I'm planning to head down to Bar None to watch the Vikings. I'm thinking about going to the Halloween parade in the Village on Monday.
Time for a snowy day nap! It's a good thing the white stuff is coming down on a Saturday!
Still trying to figure things to do out. My daughters provided wonderful suggestions about auditing classes at either Columbia or NYU (or maybe another university here in the city) and I'm looking into that. It's interesting trying to find things to do here in the city. Because there is so much going on, it's hard to find a place online where it all comes together so that there's a single place to go for the information one needs. It just doesn't exist. So finding things here is more about finding the right resources to find the right thing. Or anything for that matter. It can be time-consuming to actually find things to do with free time! Especially when one is alone and relatively new here. Where do you look?
There are some resources that people here use. Time Out New York is a weekly publication (it comes out on Wednesdays) that provides a pretty good idea of what's going on in the city. The movie and humorist I saw last week I found in that magazine. It's a very good resources. I found another resource as well, called "Club Free Time" that is an online resource that displays events (all kinds of them) that are free or low cost. It really looks like an interesting club, with annual membership dues of about $20. I'm thinking of joining, because one of my 'goals' in finding things to do is to find inexpensive or free things to do in New York. Kind of rules out Broadway plays and some of the higher end events, but there are all kinds of things to do that won't cost me an arm and a leg. And that's exciting.
Back to the snow... I hate snow. I hate cold. I left Minnesota to start escaping from it. I'm a little more south now, and who knows what the future will hold. But I'm guessing that it will involve me heading further and further south until 'snow' is something I see on television. But the snow now is going to keep me in tonight, that's for sure. The bonus is that it will allow me to get some cleaning done in preparation for the New Prague visit next weekend for the NYC Marathon
This doesn't mean that I was a hermit this week at all, though! I didn't really do anything special. I was in Washington DC early in the week (Monday and Tuesday), I was working on Wednesday and Thursday. Last night, I went to one of the locals taverns (Tap a Keg) to watch Game 7 of the World Series. I ended up sitting at the bar next to a saxophonist and we talked baseball through the entire game. Tomorrow I'm planning to head down to Bar None to watch the Vikings. I'm thinking about going to the Halloween parade in the Village on Monday.
Time for a snowy day nap! It's a good thing the white stuff is coming down on a Saturday!
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Work, Baby, Work!
Perhaps the hardest thing about working in sales is when you're not selling anything. I had a rant last week about it. I could keep going with another rant on the same stuff, but all that does is divert the train.
One of the things I think I'm struggling is this whole 'alone' thing. I came here to New York and had a very good friend. We spent a lot of time together. Too much together, as a matter of fact. It got to the point where I was hiding behind that friend and not allowing myself to experience anything this city has to offer. Naturally, she realized it before I did and made a decision that we (i.e., I) need to develop some interests and learn some things about this city. That's easier said than done, of course.
Because I realize that I've never, in my entire life, lived alone. I grew up in a house of 9 people, I moved to a dorm, back to my folks', then got married. I have never lived alone. At 49+ years of age, I find myself in my great apartment in the greatest city in the world alone. And that realization hasn't been a real easy one for me. Sure, I can pick up the phone and call people. But the "people" are a thousand miles away. They can't come over to watch the game on a whim. So it's pretty much up to me. Everything. How often I clean, when and what I eat, what is on the television, etc. And that's just inside the apartment.
For about a month, I stayed alone. Kind of like a turtle when someone comes by. I went into work early and stayed late. I came home and worked. I started a blog. The apartment became not only my home, but my shell. And I really didn't want to come out. Because it's safe in here. I don't have to risk meeting anyone new who I may like (or not like) or who may like (or not like) me. I don't have to spend a lot of money doing things that way, either. But you know what I did in addition to being a turtle in a shell? I beat myself up. Everything 'bad' that I have done over the course of my life, every 'bad' decision I made, every 'bad' aspect of what makes Dan who he is, came to the fore. And I realized, almost painfully, that this aloneness that I was feeling was something 'bad' and not something that I could really take advantage of to make myself better.
So I hit bottom. Felt as much emotional pain as I've ever felt. The realization of alone, at least for me, was a painful realization. But I had some people remind me that I'm not alone. And words will never be able to express how grateful I am for those reminders. There are people that care, and I'm really not as alone as I thought I was. Sure, I'm living by myself. Sure, I get to manage my own time and what I do. Sure, I still get to figure out what and when I eat, sleep, watch, clean, etc. And I have to get used to all of that. But the whole turtle thing, that's not me.
I'm a social animal. Which brought me to another realization. I really haven't ever had leisure time that I had to manage for myself. My leisure time, because I never lived alone, was usually managed with the people I was with or the activities I was involved with. Now, there aren't any people I'm living with and I'm not involved in any activities. So I have to find them...
On Wednesday this week, I went to a movie called "The Way". It was OK. I think it could have been much better and more profound than it was. There were a lot of things that were left unspoken in the movie and there were deep feelings in some of the characters that remained hidden or barely on the surface. Tonight, I went down to the Village and saw Polly West at the Cornelia Street Cafe. She did a humorous presentation of "How to Survive Your Adult Relationships with Your Family". Some of the things she said resounded, some of them didn't. But it was good to get out nonetheless.
There are all kinds of things to do here in the city. It's going to be my goal to find a lot of them, especially the ones that are free or cheap. It's exciting, but terrifying. I'm going to be doing a bunch of stuff alone. I'm going to be experiencing things and learning things that I want to experience and learn. And that's exciting. But I won't be able to share that anywhere but here or on the phone with anyone that wants to listen. And that's terrifying. And somewhat lonely. But that's OK.
The train is leaving the tracks!
One of the things I think I'm struggling is this whole 'alone' thing. I came here to New York and had a very good friend. We spent a lot of time together. Too much together, as a matter of fact. It got to the point where I was hiding behind that friend and not allowing myself to experience anything this city has to offer. Naturally, she realized it before I did and made a decision that we (i.e., I) need to develop some interests and learn some things about this city. That's easier said than done, of course.
Because I realize that I've never, in my entire life, lived alone. I grew up in a house of 9 people, I moved to a dorm, back to my folks', then got married. I have never lived alone. At 49+ years of age, I find myself in my great apartment in the greatest city in the world alone. And that realization hasn't been a real easy one for me. Sure, I can pick up the phone and call people. But the "people" are a thousand miles away. They can't come over to watch the game on a whim. So it's pretty much up to me. Everything. How often I clean, when and what I eat, what is on the television, etc. And that's just inside the apartment.
For about a month, I stayed alone. Kind of like a turtle when someone comes by. I went into work early and stayed late. I came home and worked. I started a blog. The apartment became not only my home, but my shell. And I really didn't want to come out. Because it's safe in here. I don't have to risk meeting anyone new who I may like (or not like) or who may like (or not like) me. I don't have to spend a lot of money doing things that way, either. But you know what I did in addition to being a turtle in a shell? I beat myself up. Everything 'bad' that I have done over the course of my life, every 'bad' decision I made, every 'bad' aspect of what makes Dan who he is, came to the fore. And I realized, almost painfully, that this aloneness that I was feeling was something 'bad' and not something that I could really take advantage of to make myself better.
So I hit bottom. Felt as much emotional pain as I've ever felt. The realization of alone, at least for me, was a painful realization. But I had some people remind me that I'm not alone. And words will never be able to express how grateful I am for those reminders. There are people that care, and I'm really not as alone as I thought I was. Sure, I'm living by myself. Sure, I get to manage my own time and what I do. Sure, I still get to figure out what and when I eat, sleep, watch, clean, etc. And I have to get used to all of that. But the whole turtle thing, that's not me.
I'm a social animal. Which brought me to another realization. I really haven't ever had leisure time that I had to manage for myself. My leisure time, because I never lived alone, was usually managed with the people I was with or the activities I was involved with. Now, there aren't any people I'm living with and I'm not involved in any activities. So I have to find them...
On Wednesday this week, I went to a movie called "The Way". It was OK. I think it could have been much better and more profound than it was. There were a lot of things that were left unspoken in the movie and there were deep feelings in some of the characters that remained hidden or barely on the surface. Tonight, I went down to the Village and saw Polly West at the Cornelia Street Cafe. She did a humorous presentation of "How to Survive Your Adult Relationships with Your Family". Some of the things she said resounded, some of them didn't. But it was good to get out nonetheless.
There are all kinds of things to do here in the city. It's going to be my goal to find a lot of them, especially the ones that are free or cheap. It's exciting, but terrifying. I'm going to be doing a bunch of stuff alone. I'm going to be experiencing things and learning things that I want to experience and learn. And that's exciting. But I won't be able to share that anywhere but here or on the phone with anyone that wants to listen. And that's terrifying. And somewhat lonely. But that's OK.
The train is leaving the tracks!
Friday, October 14, 2011
Another Week in the Books
and what a week it was! It began with an amazing head cold and is now resident in my chest, but on its way out. That is awesome. Because I really hate colds.
Spent some time actually out of the city this week, going to St. Louis on Tuesday morning and coming back late Wednesday night. It was a good diversion and has helped me appreciate what I have here a little more. It was a good and productive trip and I'm glad I got to spend some time with Elliott there. He's our rep that covers the St. Louis region and a very balanced man. It's good for me to be around peaceful spirits.
I don't think the office and the job could be more busy than they are right now. Being in our fourth quarter and behind on our number for the year adds a sense of urgency for everyone. It would be nice if that sense of urgency caused us to step back and actually learn that doing the same things the same way may not be the best way to get our numbers up. It would be nice if we'd step back and ask ourselves if we can do anything differently so that we can be more successful. And it would be really nice if the stepping back involved everyone stepping back for a couple of days and asking those questions rather than pressing forward in panic mode.
Sales is a funny thing. Sometimes we think that our product is so good that it should sell itself and that people who decide not to buy it are making a grave mistake. We absolutely don't think that our product is inferior to other products that do pretty much the same thing. And we truly believe that sales is a matter of execution. I think, to some degree, that's all true. Given that, if one has a great product, superior to other products in the space, then sales should result if the sales cycle is executed properly. Why, then, do we get behind and need a huge quarter to come remotely close to our number?
I think that we don't step back enough and look at our execution and we don't look at our product. Because sometimes our product doesn't meet the needs of the prospective customer because they are looking for something that our product doesn't do, or someone else does better. We have a hard time admitting that. And we never step back to look at our execution in sales cycles because the way we do it has always worked in the past. Oops. It's not working now. So we panic because those tried, trusted, and true techniques aren't working right now.
Could it be the sales people? Sure, but honestly that's pretty easy to blame people. If it were people, the solution is easy. But when sales are down across the board, maybe it's not the people. Maybe it's the customers? Maybe they just don't want to buy right now? In an uncertain economy, that's pretty likely. But we still panic. And we still do things the way we always did expecting a different result. The very definition of insanity.
So I'm insanely busy. But I'm insanely busy trying to step back to figure out new and different ways for people to be successful. And that's fun. But it's also very draining of my time and energy. Oh well...
Had a visitor this week. My cousin Renee from Hammond, WI was in town to meet with a vendor she works with, so we met last night for drinks and had dinner tonight. It was wonderful to get caught up with Renee and let her see the #8 train under construction.
Spent some time actually out of the city this week, going to St. Louis on Tuesday morning and coming back late Wednesday night. It was a good diversion and has helped me appreciate what I have here a little more. It was a good and productive trip and I'm glad I got to spend some time with Elliott there. He's our rep that covers the St. Louis region and a very balanced man. It's good for me to be around peaceful spirits.
I don't think the office and the job could be more busy than they are right now. Being in our fourth quarter and behind on our number for the year adds a sense of urgency for everyone. It would be nice if that sense of urgency caused us to step back and actually learn that doing the same things the same way may not be the best way to get our numbers up. It would be nice if we'd step back and ask ourselves if we can do anything differently so that we can be more successful. And it would be really nice if the stepping back involved everyone stepping back for a couple of days and asking those questions rather than pressing forward in panic mode.
Sales is a funny thing. Sometimes we think that our product is so good that it should sell itself and that people who decide not to buy it are making a grave mistake. We absolutely don't think that our product is inferior to other products that do pretty much the same thing. And we truly believe that sales is a matter of execution. I think, to some degree, that's all true. Given that, if one has a great product, superior to other products in the space, then sales should result if the sales cycle is executed properly. Why, then, do we get behind and need a huge quarter to come remotely close to our number?
I think that we don't step back enough and look at our execution and we don't look at our product. Because sometimes our product doesn't meet the needs of the prospective customer because they are looking for something that our product doesn't do, or someone else does better. We have a hard time admitting that. And we never step back to look at our execution in sales cycles because the way we do it has always worked in the past. Oops. It's not working now. So we panic because those tried, trusted, and true techniques aren't working right now.
Could it be the sales people? Sure, but honestly that's pretty easy to blame people. If it were people, the solution is easy. But when sales are down across the board, maybe it's not the people. Maybe it's the customers? Maybe they just don't want to buy right now? In an uncertain economy, that's pretty likely. But we still panic. And we still do things the way we always did expecting a different result. The very definition of insanity.
So I'm insanely busy. But I'm insanely busy trying to step back to figure out new and different ways for people to be successful. And that's fun. But it's also very draining of my time and energy. Oh well...
Had a visitor this week. My cousin Renee from Hammond, WI was in town to meet with a vendor she works with, so we met last night for drinks and had dinner tonight. It was wonderful to get caught up with Renee and let her see the #8 train under construction.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Colds Just Suck
OK, I'll admit it. I'm a wimp. When I get a cold, I really don't like to do anything. I want to sit with my tissues and mind numb myself into meaninglessness until it's over. So I've been trying to do just that. The cold started full bore on Saturday, continued through yesterday, and is still around today. Naturally when the weather here is about as perfect as it can be at this time of year. But even nice weather can't overcome my wimpiness.
I did go watch the Vikings yesterday, though. Had a blast at Bar None, just like the week before. It was good to get out, even better the Purple won for the first time this year! Today, though, has provided me a chance to sit around the apartment most of the day and get some cleaning done. No parade (does watching it on TV count?) for me today, I just didn't have the energy to stand around and watch the Italians occupy 5th Avenue.
Oh well. Tomorrow I am flying to St. Louis and will let the #8 train hang out in station for a couple days. I'm looking forward to Thursday and Friday when my cousin Renee will be visiting. It will be good to get caught up!
Time to get my laundry and finish cleaning... Have a good day!
I did go watch the Vikings yesterday, though. Had a blast at Bar None, just like the week before. It was good to get out, even better the Purple won for the first time this year! Today, though, has provided me a chance to sit around the apartment most of the day and get some cleaning done. No parade (does watching it on TV count?) for me today, I just didn't have the energy to stand around and watch the Italians occupy 5th Avenue.
Oh well. Tomorrow I am flying to St. Louis and will let the #8 train hang out in station for a couple days. I'm looking forward to Thursday and Friday when my cousin Renee will be visiting. It will be good to get caught up!
Time to get my laundry and finish cleaning... Have a good day!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Back on Schedule
After a couple of derailments, it took my wonderful daughter to step in and remind me of the things that matter in life. I have to admit that the past couple of days haven't been real easy and that the #8 train doesn't have a whole lot of passengers on it. But the passengers that are on it with me are on it for the long haul. And that's something to be very excited about. Thank you, Katie. I love you very much and I am so proud of the woman you've become. And I am more proud of the friend you are becoming. Every father on the planet should have a daughter like you to keep us all on track...
The #8 train has some plans over the next couple of days. While a head and chest cold has firmly established its presence in both my nasal and chest cavities, it will not stop me from going to Bar None today to watch the Vikings play the Cardinals and make Minneapolis native Larry Fitzgerald (who plays for the Cardinals) look like the Hall of Fame wide receiver he truly is. Then tomorrow (if this cold of mine can abate a little), I am planning to go to the Columbus Day Parade here in the city.
I sent a note of interest last night to the Scoutmaster of Troop 735 to see if his troop could use an additional hand. I wouldn't mind getting back involved in Boy Scouts on a semi-regular basis. There's nothing like the experience of working with boys as they go through puberty and adolescence and grow into young men. We'll see what happens, stay tuned.
I may update the blog later today with results from the Vikings game (although the cheap beers and shots at Bar None, coupled with this cold may result in a much needed nap) and/or tomorrow sometime after the parade and apartment cleaning.
The train is back on schedule and is going to start doing some exploring. Knowing that the fuel for it hasn't run out is a pretty important realization!
The #8 train has some plans over the next couple of days. While a head and chest cold has firmly established its presence in both my nasal and chest cavities, it will not stop me from going to Bar None today to watch the Vikings play the Cardinals and make Minneapolis native Larry Fitzgerald (who plays for the Cardinals) look like the Hall of Fame wide receiver he truly is. Then tomorrow (if this cold of mine can abate a little), I am planning to go to the Columbus Day Parade here in the city.
I sent a note of interest last night to the Scoutmaster of Troop 735 to see if his troop could use an additional hand. I wouldn't mind getting back involved in Boy Scouts on a semi-regular basis. There's nothing like the experience of working with boys as they go through puberty and adolescence and grow into young men. We'll see what happens, stay tuned.
I may update the blog later today with results from the Vikings game (although the cheap beers and shots at Bar None, coupled with this cold may result in a much needed nap) and/or tomorrow sometime after the parade and apartment cleaning.
The train is back on schedule and is going to start doing some exploring. Knowing that the fuel for it hasn't run out is a pretty important realization!
Friday, October 7, 2011
The Quest for Meaning
And I think that’s really what I’m on right now. The #8 train is going to have to wait just a little while longer before it leaves the tracks, because construction has stopped. I'll provide more details later.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Need to Take a Break...
I'm building the #8 train and trying to let people know a lot of the details and particulars of what brought me to the train that I am now riding. But I need to take a break from those details and reflect a little...
Steve Jobs died today. He was one of the founders of Apple. My first home computer was an Apple IIe back in mid-1980s. I "grew" out of Apple computers soon thereafter. I began using computers from IBM and HP and Dell, working with Microsoft Windows rather the Apple. That decision a long, long time ago has turned out pretty well for me. I built a pretty decent career out of the "business computing" environment. I started in this business as a COBOL programmer, as many of us did in the 1980s. We saw the rise of the PC in business, got caught up in it, learned it, and it became a part of us. I now work for a software company that does most of its development in Windows. I'm even typing this blog on a Dell machine running Windows 7 and (much to the chagrine of my children) still use IE.
But Mr. Jobs' death is causing me to reflect a little bit. He was 56 and died of cancer. My friends, that's way too young to die. I hate cancer. I've had it, my mother died from it, and there are people I know, have known, and will know that will die from it. That's not fair. Because lots of people will die from cancer before the really smart people figure out how to "fix it". But this isn't an anti-cancer blog, either.
It is rare that technology and technology companies change the world. Apple did. Take a peek at how you live and how you interact with technology today. How many of you have an iPod? Yeah, nearly everyone. How about an iPhone? How about an iPad? How about a Mac? You really want to talk or think about companies and people that have made a difference in your daily lives? Apple has. So has Steve Jobs. Today he is no more. And that makes it a sad day. Because Steve Jobs proved one thing to our world. Technology matters.
So from a PC user with an android phone (but an iPod), I want to say thank you. And rest in peace.
Steve Jobs died today. He was one of the founders of Apple. My first home computer was an Apple IIe back in mid-1980s. I "grew" out of Apple computers soon thereafter. I began using computers from IBM and HP and Dell, working with Microsoft Windows rather the Apple. That decision a long, long time ago has turned out pretty well for me. I built a pretty decent career out of the "business computing" environment. I started in this business as a COBOL programmer, as many of us did in the 1980s. We saw the rise of the PC in business, got caught up in it, learned it, and it became a part of us. I now work for a software company that does most of its development in Windows. I'm even typing this blog on a Dell machine running Windows 7 and (much to the chagrine of my children) still use IE.
But Mr. Jobs' death is causing me to reflect a little bit. He was 56 and died of cancer. My friends, that's way too young to die. I hate cancer. I've had it, my mother died from it, and there are people I know, have known, and will know that will die from it. That's not fair. Because lots of people will die from cancer before the really smart people figure out how to "fix it". But this isn't an anti-cancer blog, either.
It is rare that technology and technology companies change the world. Apple did. Take a peek at how you live and how you interact with technology today. How many of you have an iPod? Yeah, nearly everyone. How about an iPhone? How about an iPad? How about a Mac? You really want to talk or think about companies and people that have made a difference in your daily lives? Apple has. So has Steve Jobs. Today he is no more. And that makes it a sad day. Because Steve Jobs proved one thing to our world. Technology matters.
So from a PC user with an android phone (but an iPod), I want to say thank you. And rest in peace.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The Neighborhood
so now you have an idea about my apartment (not that anyone is actually reading these except for my daughter Katie, but maybe someday someone will show some interest after I've become famous), it's time you got an idea about the neighborhood in which I have chosen to live.
Manhattan is a pretty interesting place. There are places where tourists go (like Midtown so they can see EVERYTHING) and there are places where tourists avoid (mainly because there's nothing to see). I live in the latter. If you look at a map of Manhattan, look at Central Park (if you can't find Central Park on a map of Manhattan, you need to learn how to read a map). Look in the upper left corner of the park, draw a line toward the Hudson, and that's my neighborhood. You'll see that it's just south of "Harlem" and north of the "Upper West Side". It's south of Columbia University, but north of the "cool" stuff on the UWS. It really is in "no man's land". And I love it.
Because within walking distance (more on this in a minute) of my house, I have several bodegas (most of which I don't go into), a grocery store, three or four liquor stores, a couple of Subways, a Malaysian restaurant, an Italian restaurant, a Mexican restaurant, a Thai restaurant, a Chinese restaurant, a diner, a couple of Indian restaurants, and probably lots of other restaurants I haven't ventured into (yet). There's a Subway, a McDonald's, and a KFC. Pretty much anything one's palette would want is in my neighborhood and it's not too expensive to eat at any of them. So, yes, I am not hurting for places to eat.
There are a couple of hardware stores, an appliance store, don't forget Sal&Carmine's pizza place, a couple of drug stores, a mattress store, a couple of dive bars (and Smoke, a really decent jazz club) some interior decorating stores (not needed). I'm sure there are some doctors, shrinks, and dentists, but I haven't seen any of them in my neighborhood. There's a Catholic parish here, too, that's known as one of the most progressive in the city. And my subway stop is at 103 and Broadway, which is about 30 yards from my door.
Yep, everything I could ever need (except maybe a couple of decent mens' clothing stores) is right here. All within a few blocks. I don't have to walk more than 10 blocks in either direction to find anything I may need to live here. And 10 blocks isn't that big of a deal, folks. Manhattan has "short blocks" when you're walking up or down an avenue (like Broadway) and it has "long blocks" when you're walking between avenues. 20 'short blocks' equates to one mile. One long block is the same as three or four short blocks. So it's not odd to walk a lot, especially when you don't have a car.
It's been an adjustment, not having a car. Living in the suburbs (and it's the same here for people that live in the suburbs) means driving a car EVERYWHERE. Living in the city means driving a car NOWHERE. People do have cars here, but they use them to get out of town. If I want to get out of town, I have a couple of options. Ride a train or go with someone and I've done both (including taking a cab to the airport). But I must admit, I don't miss not driving everywhere and I love relying on my own initiative to get to where I need. No GPS, no asking for directions at a gas station, no relying on a car to do what needs to be done.
It's a great neighborhood, it really is. It's very diverse as well (because of the location). I would even venture to guess that we European Americans are the minority in my neighborhood. There are lots of Hispanic Americans, African Americans, and Other Americans that make it an exciting place to live. I would even venture to imagine that lots of the 200 languages spoken in this city are spoken here. And that's very exciting. And intimidating, too.
One of these days, I'll not be intimidated by where I live and begin to make a difference in my neighborhood. I'm learning that it does take a little time, though. And I've got all the time in the world.
Manhattan is a pretty interesting place. There are places where tourists go (like Midtown so they can see EVERYTHING) and there are places where tourists avoid (mainly because there's nothing to see). I live in the latter. If you look at a map of Manhattan, look at Central Park (if you can't find Central Park on a map of Manhattan, you need to learn how to read a map). Look in the upper left corner of the park, draw a line toward the Hudson, and that's my neighborhood. You'll see that it's just south of "Harlem" and north of the "Upper West Side". It's south of Columbia University, but north of the "cool" stuff on the UWS. It really is in "no man's land". And I love it.
Because within walking distance (more on this in a minute) of my house, I have several bodegas (most of which I don't go into), a grocery store, three or four liquor stores, a couple of Subways, a Malaysian restaurant, an Italian restaurant, a Mexican restaurant, a Thai restaurant, a Chinese restaurant, a diner, a couple of Indian restaurants, and probably lots of other restaurants I haven't ventured into (yet). There's a Subway, a McDonald's, and a KFC. Pretty much anything one's palette would want is in my neighborhood and it's not too expensive to eat at any of them. So, yes, I am not hurting for places to eat.
There are a couple of hardware stores, an appliance store, don't forget Sal&Carmine's pizza place, a couple of drug stores, a mattress store, a couple of dive bars (and Smoke, a really decent jazz club) some interior decorating stores (not needed). I'm sure there are some doctors, shrinks, and dentists, but I haven't seen any of them in my neighborhood. There's a Catholic parish here, too, that's known as one of the most progressive in the city. And my subway stop is at 103 and Broadway, which is about 30 yards from my door.
Yep, everything I could ever need (except maybe a couple of decent mens' clothing stores) is right here. All within a few blocks. I don't have to walk more than 10 blocks in either direction to find anything I may need to live here. And 10 blocks isn't that big of a deal, folks. Manhattan has "short blocks" when you're walking up or down an avenue (like Broadway) and it has "long blocks" when you're walking between avenues. 20 'short blocks' equates to one mile. One long block is the same as three or four short blocks. So it's not odd to walk a lot, especially when you don't have a car.
It's been an adjustment, not having a car. Living in the suburbs (and it's the same here for people that live in the suburbs) means driving a car EVERYWHERE. Living in the city means driving a car NOWHERE. People do have cars here, but they use them to get out of town. If I want to get out of town, I have a couple of options. Ride a train or go with someone and I've done both (including taking a cab to the airport). But I must admit, I don't miss not driving everywhere and I love relying on my own initiative to get to where I need. No GPS, no asking for directions at a gas station, no relying on a car to do what needs to be done.
It's a great neighborhood, it really is. It's very diverse as well (because of the location). I would even venture to guess that we European Americans are the minority in my neighborhood. There are lots of Hispanic Americans, African Americans, and Other Americans that make it an exciting place to live. I would even venture to imagine that lots of the 200 languages spoken in this city are spoken here. And that's very exciting. And intimidating, too.
One of these days, I'll not be intimidated by where I live and begin to make a difference in my neighborhood. I'm learning that it does take a little time, though. And I've got all the time in the world.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
The Apartment
When I began this journey five months ago, I had lots of motivation. And it sure was fun at first. Because for the first time in my life, the decisions I made about everyday stuff (like furniture and color schemes, although my daughters had a lot to do with helping me out on selecting all of them) and how I was going to spend my spare time were all mine. I didn't have a mother who made sure it was taken care of, I wasn't living in a dormitory, and I didn't have a wife who was really good at that kind of stuff. It was me. And (thanks again, girls) I think I did a pretty decent job.
I have what I need in my apartment. The basics are all here, and maybe some of the not so basics. So the place looks decent, I try to clean it every week (and still enjoy doing that), and I try very hard to keep it presentable and liveable. People that knew me in college would be shocked. Sure, I have my little messes and places for stuff, but they are contained. The kittens do a pretty decent job of making me keep the place decent as well, they can make a mess pretty quickly and easily.
The apartment really is nice. It's on the first floor. You walk in the door and the bathroom is right there (which is good when I come in and have to go badly, not so good at night). I'm a guy. The bathroom needs to have a sink, a toilet, and a shower. I've got some storage below the sink and above the toilet and the shower also has a tub. Hey, it's a bathroom.
Next to the bathroom is the kitchen. Now anyone who knows me knows that I don't mind cooking and I really enjoy baking. The kitchen isn't really conducive to either. There's not much counter space, the oven is a little small, and there isn't a lot of storage. That said, I'm not cooking huge meals for lots of people. I'm still getting used to it and now that winter is on it's way, I've committed to trying to make it work for myself. It has everything it needs, and I shouldn't use it as an excuse for being lazy.
Across from the kitchen is a little eating area. I have a table, there are benches along the wall and I have a couple of chairs. It's kind of nice, but I don't eat there by myself. I've got to figure out some kind of tablecloth for the table the kittens won't destroy and I'd like to do some things with the space, but for now it's just fine.
The living room is next. It's really divided in half. I have the "TV" half and then the "other" half. You probably guessed that I spend most of my time in the "TV" half. I have a queen sleeper against the wall, the TV (with DVR player) is in the corner, and my recliner. The other half has a small bookcase, an art table, and a couple chairs. I need some stuff on the walls at some point, they are awfully white, and I need to hang the shelf I bought that has no brackets, but the space is very serviceable and where I spend the majority of my time.
Walk through a door into the office, where I have a desk, hutch and chair. The desk and hutch are one of those "mess" areas. This room is really nice, and I spend very little time in there. During the summer, it also plays host to my windowless air conditioner. Because it's in the middle of the apartment, I can move it to the door in the living room to cool that area or to the door in the bedroom at night. It works pretty well.
Then there's the bedroom. I have a queen sized bed with a headboard and footboard, a dresser with a mirror, and a nightstand. Pretty simple, pretty basic. And it all fits quite nicely. It's in the back of the apartment, so it's pretty quiet. And that's where the door to the patio is, too.
Yes, I have some outdoor space. I have yet to do anything major with it. It has a table, some chairs, some planters, and is kind of cool. Getting it to something else (like putting plants in the planters) will be a next spring and summer job.
I have some nice rugs that I bought when Katie (my younger daughter) and Tony (her husband) were here over Memorial Day. They also came with me to get my microwave, too. Tony carried it about four blocks, and it's now on top of the refrigerator. I also have some cool curtains (more appropriately, I guess, they're called 'window treatments') that Maggie made for me and brought when she came in June. Thankfully the cats have not ruined any of the rugs or the curtains!
The building is fairly secure. I have a 'fob' entry (yes, this is new). It's about halfway between Broadway (yes, that Broadway, as in "give my regards to...") and West End Avenues on 103rd Street. You'll hear more about the neighborhood in a future blog.
So I'm all ready, right? You know what? I'm going to be 50 in May 2012. I've never lived alone before. And now that all of the 'stuff' is set, that scares the hell out of me.
I have what I need in my apartment. The basics are all here, and maybe some of the not so basics. So the place looks decent, I try to clean it every week (and still enjoy doing that), and I try very hard to keep it presentable and liveable. People that knew me in college would be shocked. Sure, I have my little messes and places for stuff, but they are contained. The kittens do a pretty decent job of making me keep the place decent as well, they can make a mess pretty quickly and easily.
The apartment really is nice. It's on the first floor. You walk in the door and the bathroom is right there (which is good when I come in and have to go badly, not so good at night). I'm a guy. The bathroom needs to have a sink, a toilet, and a shower. I've got some storage below the sink and above the toilet and the shower also has a tub. Hey, it's a bathroom.
Next to the bathroom is the kitchen. Now anyone who knows me knows that I don't mind cooking and I really enjoy baking. The kitchen isn't really conducive to either. There's not much counter space, the oven is a little small, and there isn't a lot of storage. That said, I'm not cooking huge meals for lots of people. I'm still getting used to it and now that winter is on it's way, I've committed to trying to make it work for myself. It has everything it needs, and I shouldn't use it as an excuse for being lazy.
Across from the kitchen is a little eating area. I have a table, there are benches along the wall and I have a couple of chairs. It's kind of nice, but I don't eat there by myself. I've got to figure out some kind of tablecloth for the table the kittens won't destroy and I'd like to do some things with the space, but for now it's just fine.
The living room is next. It's really divided in half. I have the "TV" half and then the "other" half. You probably guessed that I spend most of my time in the "TV" half. I have a queen sleeper against the wall, the TV (with DVR player) is in the corner, and my recliner. The other half has a small bookcase, an art table, and a couple chairs. I need some stuff on the walls at some point, they are awfully white, and I need to hang the shelf I bought that has no brackets, but the space is very serviceable and where I spend the majority of my time.
Walk through a door into the office, where I have a desk, hutch and chair. The desk and hutch are one of those "mess" areas. This room is really nice, and I spend very little time in there. During the summer, it also plays host to my windowless air conditioner. Because it's in the middle of the apartment, I can move it to the door in the living room to cool that area or to the door in the bedroom at night. It works pretty well.
Then there's the bedroom. I have a queen sized bed with a headboard and footboard, a dresser with a mirror, and a nightstand. Pretty simple, pretty basic. And it all fits quite nicely. It's in the back of the apartment, so it's pretty quiet. And that's where the door to the patio is, too.
Yes, I have some outdoor space. I have yet to do anything major with it. It has a table, some chairs, some planters, and is kind of cool. Getting it to something else (like putting plants in the planters) will be a next spring and summer job.
I have some nice rugs that I bought when Katie (my younger daughter) and Tony (her husband) were here over Memorial Day. They also came with me to get my microwave, too. Tony carried it about four blocks, and it's now on top of the refrigerator. I also have some cool curtains (more appropriately, I guess, they're called 'window treatments') that Maggie made for me and brought when she came in June. Thankfully the cats have not ruined any of the rugs or the curtains!
The building is fairly secure. I have a 'fob' entry (yes, this is new). It's about halfway between Broadway (yes, that Broadway, as in "give my regards to...") and West End Avenues on 103rd Street. You'll hear more about the neighborhood in a future blog.
So I'm all ready, right? You know what? I'm going to be 50 in May 2012. I've never lived alone before. And now that all of the 'stuff' is set, that scares the hell out of me.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Happy Anniversary!
Today, September 30, 2011, would have been my parents 50th wedding anniversary. They aren't here to celebrate it with us, Dad died in 2004 and Mom died in 2008. Both died in the spring. Dad was 72 when he died and Mom was 74 when she died. Dad died of a stroke, Mom died of cancer. But the #8 train wouldn't be looking for a track if it weren't for them...
My father, Ken, was born near Wabasso, Minnesota in 1932. His father, Floyd, was the town drunk. We can call it lots of things, but that's what my grandfather was. He died before I was born. The Schultz family ended up migrating northeast and settling enough so that Dad could go to high school in South Saint Paul. His oldest brother, Don, was a high school drop out. So Dad was the first in his family to graduate from high school. Dad had three younger brothers: Uncles Russ (my godfather), Rich (who died last year), and John (who had Downs' Syndrome and died when he was 60).
If you haven't figured it out yet, and there's no reason you should, I am the oldest of their children. I have lots of memories of my father. He was a phenomenal golfer (scratch, actually), a great swimmer, even knew how to throw a knuckleball as a pitcher. And if I were a shrink (and my parents could afford me), I would have made a fortune on my father alone. Because Dad also liked to drink. When I was very young, he liked to drink a lot. And he smoked. Over three packs a day. On January 1, 1981, Dad quit smoking. In 1985, Dad (for the most part) quit drinking. I graduated from high school in 1980.
If you ‘google’ my father, there’s not much out there. There should be. My Dad was on the school board in South Saint Paul for 6 terms (my sister, Ann, is now on the same board). He made a difference. But Dad didn’t want anyone to know he made a difference. School Board members always got a yearbook from the high school. Dad gave it back and asked the principal to give it to a kid who couldn’t afford it. Dad was elected to the board because a very conservative gentleman banned books in the library. Dad didn’t think that was right, so he ran for the seat and won. I don’t think he was on the board very long until the books were back.
He liked being behind the scenes, not being noticed, quietly supportive. My siblings were all athletes. Dad went to everything. He sat there and watched. He didn’t make his opinion or feeling known often, but when he did, you knew it mattered. He cared about the participants, the coaches, the referees, he cared about everyone.
My mother, Mary, had the same feelings, but she was very different from Dad. Mom was born in St. Paul in 1934. Her parents were the grandparents my brothers and sister grew up with (which wasn’t hard, they only lived about a block away). Mom was the oldest of three daughters and her sisters are still alive. She also went to South Saint Paul for high school, then went over to South Dakota to nurse’s training at McKesson hospital in Sioux Falls. She was a registered nurse.
That is until I was born in 1962. Then she did what everyone did then, she became a full time Mom. And that she was. Mom was a full-blooded Irish Catholic mother. We went to Mass, we went to confession, we said the rosary (most of the time), we did everything good Catholic families did. Even after Dad converted in 1976 (he and I were confirmed together). But then we started to be a little more critical of our church and began to think a little more about what it was teaching. But that was OK, and I’ll save that for another blog.
Mom was always there. She cooked, every day, for at least 9 people. She baked, she cleaned, she did laundry, she smoked (even after she quit, the basement was great haven for one once in a while!), she yelled, and she supported and loved. “I can’t keep anything decent in this house” was a fairly constant saying in our house, as was “if you can’t say anything decent, keep your mouth shut!”
As we grew, so did Mom. I think she broadened herself and read more. She loved baseball (and the Twins). She got a job at a plant store. She had a heart attack (which she swore to me was more painful than childbirth, take note for a future blog entry!). When Dad died, it was hard for her, but she did OK and moved out of the house we grew up in and was really just starting to love her new apartment when she was diagnosed with cancer. She died about three months later.
My Mom and Dad loved their kids. They loved their community. And they loved each other. It was fun watching them, because they were truly friends with each other. And I miss them both. I am sad they are gone and not here to help me with the train. Because I am sure each of them would have an opinion. And I would listen to each, and I would respect each. Simply because I knew that those opinions were sourced in love.
I hope that as I ride this train that my opinions with my children are sourced in love as well. Because the one thing that my parents made sure to pass on to theirs was a very simple message. Love.
My father, Ken, was born near Wabasso, Minnesota in 1932. His father, Floyd, was the town drunk. We can call it lots of things, but that's what my grandfather was. He died before I was born. The Schultz family ended up migrating northeast and settling enough so that Dad could go to high school in South Saint Paul. His oldest brother, Don, was a high school drop out. So Dad was the first in his family to graduate from high school. Dad had three younger brothers: Uncles Russ (my godfather), Rich (who died last year), and John (who had Downs' Syndrome and died when he was 60).
If you haven't figured it out yet, and there's no reason you should, I am the oldest of their children. I have lots of memories of my father. He was a phenomenal golfer (scratch, actually), a great swimmer, even knew how to throw a knuckleball as a pitcher. And if I were a shrink (and my parents could afford me), I would have made a fortune on my father alone. Because Dad also liked to drink. When I was very young, he liked to drink a lot. And he smoked. Over three packs a day. On January 1, 1981, Dad quit smoking. In 1985, Dad (for the most part) quit drinking. I graduated from high school in 1980.
If you ‘google’ my father, there’s not much out there. There should be. My Dad was on the school board in South Saint Paul for 6 terms (my sister, Ann, is now on the same board). He made a difference. But Dad didn’t want anyone to know he made a difference. School Board members always got a yearbook from the high school. Dad gave it back and asked the principal to give it to a kid who couldn’t afford it. Dad was elected to the board because a very conservative gentleman banned books in the library. Dad didn’t think that was right, so he ran for the seat and won. I don’t think he was on the board very long until the books were back.
He liked being behind the scenes, not being noticed, quietly supportive. My siblings were all athletes. Dad went to everything. He sat there and watched. He didn’t make his opinion or feeling known often, but when he did, you knew it mattered. He cared about the participants, the coaches, the referees, he cared about everyone.
My mother, Mary, had the same feelings, but she was very different from Dad. Mom was born in St. Paul in 1934. Her parents were the grandparents my brothers and sister grew up with (which wasn’t hard, they only lived about a block away). Mom was the oldest of three daughters and her sisters are still alive. She also went to South Saint Paul for high school, then went over to South Dakota to nurse’s training at McKesson hospital in Sioux Falls. She was a registered nurse.
That is until I was born in 1962. Then she did what everyone did then, she became a full time Mom. And that she was. Mom was a full-blooded Irish Catholic mother. We went to Mass, we went to confession, we said the rosary (most of the time), we did everything good Catholic families did. Even after Dad converted in 1976 (he and I were confirmed together). But then we started to be a little more critical of our church and began to think a little more about what it was teaching. But that was OK, and I’ll save that for another blog.
Mom was always there. She cooked, every day, for at least 9 people. She baked, she cleaned, she did laundry, she smoked (even after she quit, the basement was great haven for one once in a while!), she yelled, and she supported and loved. “I can’t keep anything decent in this house” was a fairly constant saying in our house, as was “if you can’t say anything decent, keep your mouth shut!”
As we grew, so did Mom. I think she broadened herself and read more. She loved baseball (and the Twins). She got a job at a plant store. She had a heart attack (which she swore to me was more painful than childbirth, take note for a future blog entry!). When Dad died, it was hard for her, but she did OK and moved out of the house we grew up in and was really just starting to love her new apartment when she was diagnosed with cancer. She died about three months later.
My Mom and Dad loved their kids. They loved their community. And they loved each other. It was fun watching them, because they were truly friends with each other. And I miss them both. I am sad they are gone and not here to help me with the train. Because I am sure each of them would have an opinion. And I would listen to each, and I would respect each. Simply because I knew that those opinions were sourced in love.
I hope that as I ride this train that my opinions with my children are sourced in love as well. Because the one thing that my parents made sure to pass on to theirs was a very simple message. Love.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
What Was I Thinking?
So my last post gave you a bunch of information, right? I'm here in New York, on the Upper West Side (in a neighborhood affectionately known as SoHa, because it's north of 100th Street and south of Harlem), living in an apartment with a couple of kittens that were rescued from a feral colony. I've got all my furniture, moved some stuff from Minnesota, and am all set. Well, kind of...
I'm going to be 50 years old in May. Yes, I am freaking out a little about that. But until May 1, I lived almost my entire life in Minnesota. I was involved in a lot of stuff there. And it was easy to get involved in stuff there. Join a church, get involved with the faith community. Have some kids, get involved with their lives and growing up and their activities. Have all your friends that you've known all your life near you, so if you really have to see someone, it's a phone call asking "mind if I stop over?" Volunteer in things that interest you. Do activities that interest you. Yes, Minnesota (and, especially the Twin Cities) is easy to do all of those things.
New York? Not so much. You want to join a church and a faith community? I'm Roman Catholic. There are 79 Roman Catholic parishes (according to wikipedia) on Manhattan alone. Have kids? Nope, they're back in Minnesota and I'm trying (and most of the time failing) to stay involved in their lives from a distance. But they're older now, and their activities are, well, their activities. Friends? Yeah, they're back in Minnesota, too. I have some work friends here in New York. Only one lives in Manhattan. Volunteer? You have no idea how many places you can volunteer, how many causes, how much need is there. It's intimidating and hard to find that place "to start". I love to scuba dive, am a certified PADI dive professional. It's a good thing there are only 3 PADI dive shops on the island (one isn't very professional, one I haven't talked with, and one that is fantastically awesome that I'm 'working' with now, Empire Divers). It ain't easy, folks.
I went from being a decent sized fish in a medium sized lake to being a guppy in the ocean. I've stayed here a lot over the last seven years, spending about a third of my time here. Even "lived" with a friend (yes, the same one mentioned above) for two and a half of those years. I thought I knew the city. And, in a way, I did. I knew the places to eat, the places to shop (usually), how to get around, and thought I could even detect the 'mood' of the city. But none of that prepared me to actually LIVE here.
I'll be writing more (and more and more and more) as the days go by. On nights like tonight, when I actually got home at a reasonable hour, I may even have more than one post. I hope that doesn't upset you. Because "Riding the #8 Train" needs some set up, too. And, right now, I'm going through the process (sometimes joyful, sometimes painful) of getting that train built. One of these days, we'll hopefully to get to see what it looks like!
I'm going to be 50 years old in May. Yes, I am freaking out a little about that. But until May 1, I lived almost my entire life in Minnesota. I was involved in a lot of stuff there. And it was easy to get involved in stuff there. Join a church, get involved with the faith community. Have some kids, get involved with their lives and growing up and their activities. Have all your friends that you've known all your life near you, so if you really have to see someone, it's a phone call asking "mind if I stop over?" Volunteer in things that interest you. Do activities that interest you. Yes, Minnesota (and, especially the Twin Cities) is easy to do all of those things.
New York? Not so much. You want to join a church and a faith community? I'm Roman Catholic. There are 79 Roman Catholic parishes (according to wikipedia) on Manhattan alone. Have kids? Nope, they're back in Minnesota and I'm trying (and most of the time failing) to stay involved in their lives from a distance. But they're older now, and their activities are, well, their activities. Friends? Yeah, they're back in Minnesota, too. I have some work friends here in New York. Only one lives in Manhattan. Volunteer? You have no idea how many places you can volunteer, how many causes, how much need is there. It's intimidating and hard to find that place "to start". I love to scuba dive, am a certified PADI dive professional. It's a good thing there are only 3 PADI dive shops on the island (one isn't very professional, one I haven't talked with, and one that is fantastically awesome that I'm 'working' with now, Empire Divers). It ain't easy, folks.
I went from being a decent sized fish in a medium sized lake to being a guppy in the ocean. I've stayed here a lot over the last seven years, spending about a third of my time here. Even "lived" with a friend (yes, the same one mentioned above) for two and a half of those years. I thought I knew the city. And, in a way, I did. I knew the places to eat, the places to shop (usually), how to get around, and thought I could even detect the 'mood' of the city. But none of that prepared me to actually LIVE here.
I'll be writing more (and more and more and more) as the days go by. On nights like tonight, when I actually got home at a reasonable hour, I may even have more than one post. I hope that doesn't upset you. Because "Riding the #8 Train" needs some set up, too. And, right now, I'm going through the process (sometimes joyful, sometimes painful) of getting that train built. One of these days, we'll hopefully to get to see what it looks like!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
I Moved to New York
May 1, 2011. That is the date that I moved to New York City. This is the date that I made a decision that my life would be changed irrevocably. Until that day, I never lived more than 20 miles away from the house I grew up in South Saint Paul, Minnesota.
I moved from that house, to the dormitory at Brady Hall at the University of Saint Thomas in Saint Paul. I got married on June 23, 1984 and we lived in two apartments on Randolph Avenue in Saint Paul before moving to Cottage Grove in 1987. We moved to a different house in 1997. We raised three children in Cottage Grove. Two of them are out of college and one is still in college. You'll probably get to know them fairly well as I write this blog. I decided to leave that life behind. I don't know if it was the right decision, perhaps I'll never know. Perhaps just writing for everyone to see will help me understand if it really was the "right" decision or not. Anyhow...
May 1, 2011. I moved to New York City. I have an apartment on the Upper West Side. I spent a long time looking for the "right" apartment, I found this one almost completely by accident. But when I walked into it, I knew it was perfect. I decided not to move much from Minnesota and decided to start over in my new apartment. I got a new furniture (couch, ottoman, desk, bookshelves, bed, mattress, dresser, mirror, nightstand, TV, stand, etc.), I was able to move some kitchen things from Minnesota (thank you!) and was able to borrow some things from a friend to round the place out. I even adopted a couple of kittens rescued from a feral colony in early June.
Yep, I'm all set. I got my drivers license in New York with my new address. I'm going through the painful process of changing all of my 'stuff' to my new address. I opened a bank account at Chase. I learned how to get to work and where some of the stores are I need for things like groceries and toilet paper and cat food. I found some very cool places to eat. I even joined the Y.
So I'm there, right?
Riding the #8 Train is the name of my blog. Because I think it's going to tell the story of my life. Folks, I've looked at the subway map here in New York. THERE IS NO #8 TRAIN! Yet that's the one that I'm on. I hope this blog provides a chronicle of my life in New York, how I'm adjusting (or not adjusting as the case may be), my struggles, my joys, my successes, and my failures. It probably will be personal in some posts (you'll learn something about me, that's for sure), hopefully it will be humorous most of the time, but I'm sure sometimes it will be sad.
It's time for me to get to bed. There will be lots more as we ride the #8 train together!
I moved from that house, to the dormitory at Brady Hall at the University of Saint Thomas in Saint Paul. I got married on June 23, 1984 and we lived in two apartments on Randolph Avenue in Saint Paul before moving to Cottage Grove in 1987. We moved to a different house in 1997. We raised three children in Cottage Grove. Two of them are out of college and one is still in college. You'll probably get to know them fairly well as I write this blog. I decided to leave that life behind. I don't know if it was the right decision, perhaps I'll never know. Perhaps just writing for everyone to see will help me understand if it really was the "right" decision or not. Anyhow...
May 1, 2011. I moved to New York City. I have an apartment on the Upper West Side. I spent a long time looking for the "right" apartment, I found this one almost completely by accident. But when I walked into it, I knew it was perfect. I decided not to move much from Minnesota and decided to start over in my new apartment. I got a new furniture (couch, ottoman, desk, bookshelves, bed, mattress, dresser, mirror, nightstand, TV, stand, etc.), I was able to move some kitchen things from Minnesota (thank you!) and was able to borrow some things from a friend to round the place out. I even adopted a couple of kittens rescued from a feral colony in early June.
Yep, I'm all set. I got my drivers license in New York with my new address. I'm going through the painful process of changing all of my 'stuff' to my new address. I opened a bank account at Chase. I learned how to get to work and where some of the stores are I need for things like groceries and toilet paper and cat food. I found some very cool places to eat. I even joined the Y.
So I'm there, right?
Riding the #8 Train is the name of my blog. Because I think it's going to tell the story of my life. Folks, I've looked at the subway map here in New York. THERE IS NO #8 TRAIN! Yet that's the one that I'm on. I hope this blog provides a chronicle of my life in New York, how I'm adjusting (or not adjusting as the case may be), my struggles, my joys, my successes, and my failures. It probably will be personal in some posts (you'll learn something about me, that's for sure), hopefully it will be humorous most of the time, but I'm sure sometimes it will be sad.
It's time for me to get to bed. There will be lots more as we ride the #8 train together!
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