First of all, sorry that it has been so long. I'm sure that your two weeks leading up to Christmas were pretty dull and uneventful. Yeah, mine too. I think participating in the Ironman Triathalon would have been less physically demanding than the last two weeks. We will return to our regularly scheduled Job discussion soon.
Anyway, now I'm sitting here at my in-laws house feeling like I just left a rock concert. You know how after a concert that is really loud your hearing is kind of muffled and everything seems a little extra quiet? Well, that is sort of where I am now.
Missy and I are here in the Midwest with her family (though I am extremely fortunate to be able to say that I consider my in laws - parents, sisters and brothers - like they are my own family) for Christmas and New Year's. Missy has two sisters and one brother. Between them they have 5 kids. About an hour ago all the kids left leaving me feeling like I am now sitting in a library. There is nothing more beautiful to hear than than the sound of kids running around and laughing and playing and crying and talking (sometimes incoherently). Now they have all left and it just seems a little bit extra quiet.
However, this quiet has given me the opportunity to look at kids and parenting as Missy and I eagerly await the birth of our son in a few months (launch date: March 21). Here is a quick rundown of my beautiful nieces and nephews - sidebar - this side of the family is 5 for 5 when it comes to good looking kids - I hope our kid can follow suit - if he doesn't I know who has the ugly genes - anyway, here is who I got to play with or simply hold this weekend:
- a beautiful 5 year old girl - she loves to run around and wrestle (but not too rough!) but also play with Polly Pocket. you can have a conversation with her and she will write a note to you or read to you. she also recently lost her first tooth. she loves to play hide and seek and somehow always finds me.
- an adorable 3 year old boy who is all boy. you can't wrestle with him rough enough (well maybe you can but it takes alot). he loves sports and superheroes (Batman, Spiderman, Superman, Buzz Lightyear) and the movie Cars. You can talk to him and listen to him with his cute little boy lisp that I hope our son has. His quick wit and sense of humor already is well beyond his years.
- a super cute 2 year old boy - he loves trains and the movie Cars (guess what movie we watched this weekend). he is very curious and has an insatiable appetite for reading and drawing. he has a smile and laugh that light up the room. he talks as well though sometimes you still have to strain to interpret some his words. his gentle heart is very apparent even at 2.
- a gorgeous 6 month old girl - her crystal blue eyes are constantly taking everything in. her big cheeks invite you to kiss them - which I did a lot - I just couldn't help myself. her hands would death grip anything that came into range. you can already tell she is going to be a heartbreaker.
-a 6 day old - his priorities were pretty basic - eat, sleep, poop. not always in that order and sometimes at the same time. his face, like any good 6 day old, often looked a lot like Winston Churchhill after eating a lemon. his fragility and newness (for a lack of a better word) were beautiful to observe. I have never spent that much time with a child that young - seeing and holding him really had the biggest impact that I was soon going to become a dad.
Through these 5 kids, I saw 4 main stages:
- a 5 year old - in school, learning to read and write, losing her baby teeth
- a 2 & 3 year old who love to play (usually more than eating) and are learning the definition of the word "share" (though to their credit were often more generous - with some prodding - than I was at that age
- a 6 month old who was starting to show her personality, roll over, smile and interact
- a 6 day old who was so new and vulnerable and dependant - without someone else he would not be able to do much of anything (except poop - he mastered that right out of the gate)
As a parent, I will get to experience each of these stages in time. As my child grows, so too will I as a parent. Changing diapers will go from dreaded disgust to nonchalant chore. Holding my child will go from handling fine china to carrying a bag of groceries. Conversations will go from monologue streams of babble to interactive conversations about life.
Parenthood scares the living heck out of me: Knowing that my kids will cry and get sick and urinate everywhere. There will be sleepless nights, repetitive discipline problems, temper tantrums in public places. The concepts of "sleeping in", "personal space" and "me time" will become unfamiliar.
However, a couple of moments this weekend reminded me why I am excited to be a dad. At one point this weekend, the three older kids individually sought me out and wanted to do something just with me. With one of them, as I sat at the table eating, I felt a little tickle on my feet - an invitation to me to chase and play with her. With another, we sat in the dark of pre-dawn Christmas morning and looked quietly at the lights on the tree. With the third, we sat in quiet and watched a talking tomato and cucumber (or was it a zucchini?) in costumes on TV. To see three kids who could have easily just run around and played on their own, come and want to sit with ME and in their own way show that they loved me too, that made me forget about why I am scared to be a parent.
So while I sit here in the quiet aftermath of a perfect storm of hide and seek, changed diapers, temper tantrums, nap times and kid movies, I can't wait for the next storm to come.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Job - Volume 1 - The worst day ever
Recently I have been reading the book of Job (though not as frequently as I would like). I have read this book a few times before. I like it but I'm not sure why. Parts I understand. Other parts completely lose me. The beginning of the book is an interesting narrative between God and Satan. Satan has been roaming the earth and he comes to see God. They kind of have a contest and use Job as the guinea pig. God points out Job saying that "there is no one like him on earth; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil." First of all, can you even imagine being singled out by God as the gold standard of what He is looking for in a servant???? I mean, this is God we are talking about. I'm happy if my mom says something nice about me. This is God, creator of everything and He points out Job. Amazing. Anyway, Satan thinks that Job is so great because God has blessed with lots of money and property. He probably has a place in the Keys. A ski cabin in Vail perhaps. He is blessed. So God allows Satan to take away everything and I mean EVERYTHING (read Job 1:13-18 - it's the worst day ever) except his health. And how does Job respond:
"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised."
What? There is a whole string of things I would say (and sadly some I have said) to God if this happened to me. Heck, if ONE of those things happened to me, I would have flown off the handle. But Job knows his place and has an outlook on his life that few others do. I guess that's why God points him out in the first place.
So Satan comes back and says, "Well, I couldn't hurt him physically so that' s why he had that great line about being naked or whatever. Let me hurt him and he will turn." God agrees but says that Satan can't kill Job. So Job gets hit with this nasty skin disease that involves boils and scraping them with broken pieces of pottery. Sounds like a party to me!
The crazy thing about this book is that it isn't a cutesy story in a fairy tale. This is in the Bible. The best selling book of all time by far. The book that is "God-breathed". The Word of God.
A few things jumped out at me about these first few verses. First of all, who recorded this interaction between God and Satan? Who found out about it? I did a little research. One commentary I have says that Job is most likely the author of Job (makes sense). Another says he is definitely NOT the author. Another commentary online says that there were TWO authors - one who wrote the narratives at the beginning and end of the book and another who wrote the poetic middle - sort of the Lennon and McCartney of Job. So the answer is......who knows? My guess is that there was not a reporter in heaven recording the events of God and Satan and then emailing them to her editor to record in the Bible.
Another thing that jumped out at me deals with the interaction between God and Satan. God ALLOWS Satan to do certain things to Job but gives him parameters. It's almost as if Satan has to ask for permission to do things. This is an interesting concept. We wonder why things happen in the world - September 11th, the genocide in Africa, the whole priest molestation atrocity (or should I say atrocities). Is God not in control? If He is, why does He let this stuff happen? The age old question of "why do bad things happen to good people?"
I have a few thoughts on this but I am going to open it up. Believe me, this was not where I thought I was going when I started this post. However, now I would like to have those of you who read this blog (and if you want to pass it on, feel free), throw in your two cents.
The way I have read it, Job has three main parts. I alluded to them earlier. The narrative at the beginning, the poetic interaction in the middle between Job and his friends and the narrative at the end. Because I don't have eight hours to type and you don't have 8 hours to read what I type, I will break my posts up and cover each section individually. I basically covered Job 1 and Job 2 up to verse 8.
I would love to hear from you about this. This post is sort of change of pace from my usual ramblings but I thought I would hit something a little bit deeper and get you (and me) to think a little.
Thanks for reading and I hope to hear your thoughts.
"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised."
What? There is a whole string of things I would say (and sadly some I have said) to God if this happened to me. Heck, if ONE of those things happened to me, I would have flown off the handle. But Job knows his place and has an outlook on his life that few others do. I guess that's why God points him out in the first place.
So Satan comes back and says, "Well, I couldn't hurt him physically so that' s why he had that great line about being naked or whatever. Let me hurt him and he will turn." God agrees but says that Satan can't kill Job. So Job gets hit with this nasty skin disease that involves boils and scraping them with broken pieces of pottery. Sounds like a party to me!
The crazy thing about this book is that it isn't a cutesy story in a fairy tale. This is in the Bible. The best selling book of all time by far. The book that is "God-breathed". The Word of God.
A few things jumped out at me about these first few verses. First of all, who recorded this interaction between God and Satan? Who found out about it? I did a little research. One commentary I have says that Job is most likely the author of Job (makes sense). Another says he is definitely NOT the author. Another commentary online says that there were TWO authors - one who wrote the narratives at the beginning and end of the book and another who wrote the poetic middle - sort of the Lennon and McCartney of Job. So the answer is......who knows? My guess is that there was not a reporter in heaven recording the events of God and Satan and then emailing them to her editor to record in the Bible.
Another thing that jumped out at me deals with the interaction between God and Satan. God ALLOWS Satan to do certain things to Job but gives him parameters. It's almost as if Satan has to ask for permission to do things. This is an interesting concept. We wonder why things happen in the world - September 11th, the genocide in Africa, the whole priest molestation atrocity (or should I say atrocities). Is God not in control? If He is, why does He let this stuff happen? The age old question of "why do bad things happen to good people?"
I have a few thoughts on this but I am going to open it up. Believe me, this was not where I thought I was going when I started this post. However, now I would like to have those of you who read this blog (and if you want to pass it on, feel free), throw in your two cents.
The way I have read it, Job has three main parts. I alluded to them earlier. The narrative at the beginning, the poetic interaction in the middle between Job and his friends and the narrative at the end. Because I don't have eight hours to type and you don't have 8 hours to read what I type, I will break my posts up and cover each section individually. I basically covered Job 1 and Job 2 up to verse 8.
I would love to hear from you about this. This post is sort of change of pace from my usual ramblings but I thought I would hit something a little bit deeper and get you (and me) to think a little.
Thanks for reading and I hope to hear your thoughts.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
The Celebrity in Me
Ever 
since I was 13, people have been told that I look like someone famous. I went on a missions trip to Kentucky and worked with kids at a camp down there. A couple of the kids thought I looked like Doogie Howser (Neil Patrick Harris) from the show "Doogie Howser M.D.". They called me "Doogie" all week - which was AWESOME (or should I say radically gnarly). I never really saw it. As I got older, I guess I could kind of see it. Of course, now that Neil Patrick Harris has "come out of the closet" (what happened to Wanda???) I have distanced myself from any similarities that we may have had.
A couple years after that, when I was in high school, people told me that I looked (and more specifically acted) like Chandler Bing (Matthew Perry) from the show "Friends". Of course, there were a few years in there where unfortunately he was recovering from a drug addiction and he was much heavier. That was when our similarities ended. I have never been overweight in my life. The ironic thing is that on the show Chandler marries Monica (Courtney Cox). Missy is a huge Friends fan as are a number of her......um, friends. They all agree that Missy is very much like Monica, except for the fact that Monica is tall and has black hair and Missy is more on the short side and has blond hair. Other than that, they are identical twins.
Most recently, I have been told that I look like a guy by the name of Eric Close from the show "Without a Trace". He plays a cop named Martin Fitzgerald. (I would include a picture of him but blogger is being stupid) I have never personally watched the show. However, one of my friends' parents have watched it since it started and they told me a few years ago that that every time they would turn it on, they would say, "Well, it's time to watch Ryan's show." Missy says she really sees it and every time there is a commercial on for "Without a Trace", she says, "Hey, it's you!"
However, I discovered the true way to determine what celebrity I look like several months ago. Missy and I were watching the intellectually challenging show, "Best Week Ever" on VH1. It is basically a bunch of 2nd & 3rd tier comedians who rip on whatever or whomever was in the news that week. Well, they were talking about a website called myheritage.com. Basically, you log on, create a free account and take a picture of yourself and it will analyze the picture and tell you based on this mysterious analytical algorythm what celebrities you most look like. Well Missy and I tried it and it truly is incredible to see who you look like. I have attached a link at the top that gives you a collage of who, using the picture at the top of my blog, this website says I most look like. Just click on "The Celebrity in Me" and enjoy.
So, please get a picture of yourself (preferably one that is a pretty close up shot where you are looking directly into the camera) from your computer and head over to myheritage.com. Try the face recognition program. Once and for all you will be able to see exactly what famous person you look like. I promise you will not be disappointed.
since I was 13, people have been told that I look like someone famous. I went on a missions trip to Kentucky and worked with kids at a camp down there. A couple of the kids thought I looked like Doogie Howser (Neil Patrick Harris) from the show "Doogie Howser M.D.". They called me "Doogie" all week - which was AWESOME (or should I say radically gnarly). I never really saw it. As I got older, I guess I could kind of see it. Of course, now that Neil Patrick Harris has "come out of the closet" (what happened to Wanda???) I have distanced myself from any similarities that we may have had.A couple years after that, when I was in high school, people told me that I looked (and more specifically acted) like Chandler Bing (Matthew Perry) from the show "Friends". Of course, there were a few years in there where unfortunately he was recovering from a drug addiction and he was much heavier. That was when our similarities ended. I have never been overweight in my life. The ironic thing is that on the show Chandler marries Monica (Courtney Cox). Missy is a huge Friends fan as are a number of her......um, friends. They all agree that Missy is very much like Monica, except for the fact that Monica is tall and has black hair and Missy is more on the short side and has blond hair. Other than that, they are identical twins.
Most recently, I have been told that I look like a guy by the name of Eric Close from the show "Without a Trace". He plays a cop named Martin Fitzgerald. (I would include a picture of him but blogger is being stupid) I have never personally watched the show. However, one of my friends' parents have watched it since it started and they told me a few years ago that that every time they would turn it on, they would say, "Well, it's time to watch Ryan's show." Missy says she really sees it and every time there is a commercial on for "Without a Trace", she says, "Hey, it's you!"
However, I discovered the true way to determine what celebrity I look like several months ago. Missy and I were watching the intellectually challenging show, "Best Week Ever" on VH1. It is basically a bunch of 2nd & 3rd tier comedians who rip on whatever or whomever was in the news that week. Well, they were talking about a website called myheritage.com. Basically, you log on, create a free account and take a picture of yourself and it will analyze the picture and tell you based on this mysterious analytical algorythm what celebrities you most look like. Well Missy and I tried it and it truly is incredible to see who you look like. I have attached a link at the top that gives you a collage of who, using the picture at the top of my blog, this website says I most look like. Just click on "The Celebrity in Me" and enjoy.
So, please get a picture of yourself (preferably one that is a pretty close up shot where you are looking directly into the camera) from your computer and head over to myheritage.com. Try the face recognition program. Once and for all you will be able to see exactly what famous person you look like. I promise you will not be disappointed.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
The Anguished Groans of a Philadelphia Sports Fan
Several years ago, I thought of writing an article called, "Philadelphia, Home of the Season Ending Injury". It seemed as though every major star on every major sports team in Philadelphia had been lost for the season or had missed significant time during the course of the season. There seemed to be a black cloud hanging over the city. After this past weekend, with the second consecutive season ending injury to Eagles QB Donovan McNabb, I think the major sports injury that Philadelphia sports teams inflict on fans is more painful and takes more rehab than an ACL tear or sports hernia. It's a broken heart.
There is a famous (or perhaps infamous) sports talk radio station in Philadelphia that, I believe, exists for the sole purpose of allowing Philadelphia sports fans to voice their frustration and pain over not having won a championship in a generation. In fact, they actually have a commercial that promotes the station that says, "23 years of championship disappointment.....and counting.....sports radio 610, W.I.P." The last team to win a championship was the 1983 76er's. I was barely 6. Since then the Phillies have accumulated the worst overall record of any sports team in any sport. The 76er's have been satisfied with being eliminated in the first round of the playoffs every year. The Flyer's play like champions all year and then turn into scared little school girls when they get to the playoffs.
Which leaves the Eagles. Most people in Philadelphia, myself included, consider the Eagle's their favorite team. The reason is that they have been relatively good (with a few exceptions) for a long period of time. They currently have a waiting list of season ticket holders that is over 50,000 people long. Their annual retention rate is 99.8%. That means that unless over half of the sold out stadium died of a heart attack simultaneously (which is actually not too far outside the realm of possibilities given their eating habits), almost no one on that waiting list will get season tickets in their lifetime. The problem is that this team comes every year with promise and excitement and then fails to deliver. They have developed an unbelievable knack for making you love them and believe in them in September and then ripping out your heart and driving over it with a steam roller in December or January (this year, it came early - woo hoo!). Our hopes for a championship hinge every year on the Eagles. And people wonder why Eagles fans can be so nasty. You try hoping for a team to win every year only to be kicked in between the eyes.....every year since John Kennedy was President.
From my unofficial research, Philadelphia is the only city with the four major sports teams (football, baseball, basketball and hockey) that has not won a world championship in a quarter century. New York, Chicago, St. Louis, Detroit, they have all won championships in the last few years. Heck, even small cities like Pittsburgh, Tampa Bay, Miami, Baltimore and Arizona (that's a joke, I know Arizona is a state, just chuckle and move on) have won championships in the last few years. Those Sports Illustrated ads that try and sucker people into subscribing to them by expoiting the excitement of a championship team's success makes me sick. "Hey sports fans, the Texarkana Armadillos are World Champions, get your copy of the SI Commerative edition today!" What makes me mad is that they never have had a Philadelphia sports team there. If they did, I would subscribe to SI like 50 times. We have had a few chances: the World Series in 93, the NBA finals in '01, the Super Bowl in '05 and the Stanley Cup finals sometime back in the late 90's, I think, and every time, they got beat.
All I want is one championship. I don't even care which sport. Heck, the city is so desperate that it went crazy for a few years because we had HORSES that did pretty well. Smarty Jones, he was great until the Belmont. Then we all thought that Barbaro was our triple crown winner. And then his leg broke in half. I just want to experience a parade. Just one.
So this weekend, when my team, the Philadelphia Eagles, are marched out to their official execution (their death sentence was given last week when they lost to the horrendous Tennessee Titans and lost McNabb for the year) in front of a national audience and are decapitated by the Colts, I will proudly wear my Eagles jersey for the last time this season. Once the execution is over, I will quietly fold up my jersey, as I have done every year since I have owned it, put it in my closet and think, as I have thought since I can remember following Philadelphia sports: Next year. Maybe next year.....
There is a famous (or perhaps infamous) sports talk radio station in Philadelphia that, I believe, exists for the sole purpose of allowing Philadelphia sports fans to voice their frustration and pain over not having won a championship in a generation. In fact, they actually have a commercial that promotes the station that says, "23 years of championship disappointment.....and counting.....sports radio 610, W.I.P." The last team to win a championship was the 1983 76er's. I was barely 6. Since then the Phillies have accumulated the worst overall record of any sports team in any sport. The 76er's have been satisfied with being eliminated in the first round of the playoffs every year. The Flyer's play like champions all year and then turn into scared little school girls when they get to the playoffs.
Which leaves the Eagles. Most people in Philadelphia, myself included, consider the Eagle's their favorite team. The reason is that they have been relatively good (with a few exceptions) for a long period of time. They currently have a waiting list of season ticket holders that is over 50,000 people long. Their annual retention rate is 99.8%. That means that unless over half of the sold out stadium died of a heart attack simultaneously (which is actually not too far outside the realm of possibilities given their eating habits), almost no one on that waiting list will get season tickets in their lifetime. The problem is that this team comes every year with promise and excitement and then fails to deliver. They have developed an unbelievable knack for making you love them and believe in them in September and then ripping out your heart and driving over it with a steam roller in December or January (this year, it came early - woo hoo!). Our hopes for a championship hinge every year on the Eagles. And people wonder why Eagles fans can be so nasty. You try hoping for a team to win every year only to be kicked in between the eyes.....every year since John Kennedy was President.
From my unofficial research, Philadelphia is the only city with the four major sports teams (football, baseball, basketball and hockey) that has not won a world championship in a quarter century. New York, Chicago, St. Louis, Detroit, they have all won championships in the last few years. Heck, even small cities like Pittsburgh, Tampa Bay, Miami, Baltimore and Arizona (that's a joke, I know Arizona is a state, just chuckle and move on) have won championships in the last few years. Those Sports Illustrated ads that try and sucker people into subscribing to them by expoiting the excitement of a championship team's success makes me sick. "Hey sports fans, the Texarkana Armadillos are World Champions, get your copy of the SI Commerative edition today!" What makes me mad is that they never have had a Philadelphia sports team there. If they did, I would subscribe to SI like 50 times. We have had a few chances: the World Series in 93, the NBA finals in '01, the Super Bowl in '05 and the Stanley Cup finals sometime back in the late 90's, I think, and every time, they got beat.
All I want is one championship. I don't even care which sport. Heck, the city is so desperate that it went crazy for a few years because we had HORSES that did pretty well. Smarty Jones, he was great until the Belmont. Then we all thought that Barbaro was our triple crown winner. And then his leg broke in half. I just want to experience a parade. Just one.
So this weekend, when my team, the Philadelphia Eagles, are marched out to their official execution (their death sentence was given last week when they lost to the horrendous Tennessee Titans and lost McNabb for the year) in front of a national audience and are decapitated by the Colts, I will proudly wear my Eagles jersey for the last time this season. Once the execution is over, I will quietly fold up my jersey, as I have done every year since I have owned it, put it in my closet and think, as I have thought since I can remember following Philadelphia sports: Next year. Maybe next year.....
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Two of the World's Most Powerful Words
Sorry for the delay folks. I'm back.
Just a warning before I start - this post will forever change your perspective on conversations and may make you smile at an inopportune time. You've been warned.
A few weeks ago, Missy and I went to a family reunion. Now I will say that it was good to see some of my relatives that I have not seen in a while. However, family reunions almost always generate an awkward conversation or two where you find yourself talking with someone and once the small talk runs out you just stare at each other, smile and then go for seconds on the egg salad. In fact, in one conversation the person I was talking with said "It was good to see you!" in the it's-the-end-of-the-conversation tone TWICE. The thing is, I was still talking. So I took the hint and got some chocolate cake.
This awkward conversation reminded me of a discovery that I made a few years ago. In the English language, there are two words that signal the end to any conversation. In some cases, they can cut off the conversation all by themselves. Because of this, I consider them two of the most powerful words in our vocabulary. Neither is a noun or verb or adjective. They are both considered "interjections" and one isn't even a real word (more of a contraction really). Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:
Alright
Well
Have you ever noticed this? These two words always signal that a conversation is over. Almost always, they are preluded by an awkward pause:
Person A: So that's how my cat got stuck in the garbage disposal.
(awkward pause)
Person B (looking around awkwardly): Well.......
Person A: Alright......
Both people head for the potato salad.
What makes these words most effective is when you use them in combination. They will end a conversation quickly and effectively.
Person A: I had a really good time on our date. I'm sorry I threw up in your meatloaf.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Alright, well, I should get going.
They are reversable as well.
Person A: So other than Dad's little gas issue, there's not too much happening here.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Well, alright, I'll talk to you later, Mom.
Though I don't recommend using the words this way and I'm sure I have never used them this way, these words are most powerful when they are used not only in combination but when interupting someone as well.
Person A: So then in 1943, in the Spring I think, I had just finished 3rd grade. Mrs. Martin was my teacher. She married Bill Martin. His family was Quaker, I think. Had a mean dog. I think his name was Trevor. Anyway, I had just started growing my own radishes that Spring when..
Person B: Alright well, Aunt June, I have a root canal that I just remembered I have to go to.
Person A: Oh, ok, well take some radishes before you go.
My question is this: how did these word become designated as the conversation killers? Who started using them first? How did every person come to know that when there is an awkward pause and you want the conversation to be over, you say "well", "alright" or both of them together? Why weren't other words used? I can think of a few that would make more sense. Words that mean "the end"or "it's over". And they would work most effectively if they were exclamations.
Person A: So that's how my cat got stuck in the garbage disposal.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Completion!
Person A: I had a really good time on our date. I'm sorry I threw up in your meatloaf.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Terminated!
This would work best if you were interupting the other person.
Person A: So then in 1943, in the Spring I think, I had just finished 3rd grade. Mrs. Martin was my teacher. She married Bill Martin. His family was Quaker, I think. Had a mean dog. I think his name was Trevor. Anyway, I had just started growing my own radishes that Spring when..
Person B: Conclusion!
Person A: What? Kids these days. They just don't respect their elders like they used to. When I was in 3rd grade..
Person B: Finished!
So the next time you are at a family reunion or somehow find yourself at the end of a conversation and there is an awkward pause, I ask that you wait and see what the other person says. I can almost guarantee that it will be one of the two most powerful words ever to cross our lips. And if you are feeling a little adventurous, try to end the conversation with something new.
Alright, well.................
Just a warning before I start - this post will forever change your perspective on conversations and may make you smile at an inopportune time. You've been warned.
A few weeks ago, Missy and I went to a family reunion. Now I will say that it was good to see some of my relatives that I have not seen in a while. However, family reunions almost always generate an awkward conversation or two where you find yourself talking with someone and once the small talk runs out you just stare at each other, smile and then go for seconds on the egg salad. In fact, in one conversation the person I was talking with said "It was good to see you!" in the it's-the-end-of-the-conversation tone TWICE. The thing is, I was still talking. So I took the hint and got some chocolate cake.
This awkward conversation reminded me of a discovery that I made a few years ago. In the English language, there are two words that signal the end to any conversation. In some cases, they can cut off the conversation all by themselves. Because of this, I consider them two of the most powerful words in our vocabulary. Neither is a noun or verb or adjective. They are both considered "interjections" and one isn't even a real word (more of a contraction really). Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:
Alright
Well
Have you ever noticed this? These two words always signal that a conversation is over. Almost always, they are preluded by an awkward pause:
Person A: So that's how my cat got stuck in the garbage disposal.
(awkward pause)
Person B (looking around awkwardly): Well.......
Person A: Alright......
Both people head for the potato salad.
What makes these words most effective is when you use them in combination. They will end a conversation quickly and effectively.
Person A: I had a really good time on our date. I'm sorry I threw up in your meatloaf.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Alright, well, I should get going.
They are reversable as well.
Person A: So other than Dad's little gas issue, there's not too much happening here.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Well, alright, I'll talk to you later, Mom.
Though I don't recommend using the words this way and I'm sure I have never used them this way, these words are most powerful when they are used not only in combination but when interupting someone as well.
Person A: So then in 1943, in the Spring I think, I had just finished 3rd grade. Mrs. Martin was my teacher. She married Bill Martin. His family was Quaker, I think. Had a mean dog. I think his name was Trevor. Anyway, I had just started growing my own radishes that Spring when..
Person B: Alright well, Aunt June, I have a root canal that I just remembered I have to go to.
Person A: Oh, ok, well take some radishes before you go.
My question is this: how did these word become designated as the conversation killers? Who started using them first? How did every person come to know that when there is an awkward pause and you want the conversation to be over, you say "well", "alright" or both of them together? Why weren't other words used? I can think of a few that would make more sense. Words that mean "the end"or "it's over". And they would work most effectively if they were exclamations.
Person A: So that's how my cat got stuck in the garbage disposal.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Completion!
Person A: I had a really good time on our date. I'm sorry I threw up in your meatloaf.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Terminated!
This would work best if you were interupting the other person.
Person A: So then in 1943, in the Spring I think, I had just finished 3rd grade. Mrs. Martin was my teacher. She married Bill Martin. His family was Quaker, I think. Had a mean dog. I think his name was Trevor. Anyway, I had just started growing my own radishes that Spring when..
Person B: Conclusion!
Person A: What? Kids these days. They just don't respect their elders like they used to. When I was in 3rd grade..
Person B: Finished!
So the next time you are at a family reunion or somehow find yourself at the end of a conversation and there is an awkward pause, I ask that you wait and see what the other person says. I can almost guarantee that it will be one of the two most powerful words ever to cross our lips. And if you are feeling a little adventurous, try to end the conversation with something new.
Alright, well.................
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Good times at the epidural class
Well, we went to our first childbirth class last week - the very exciting epidural class. Seeing as it was our first class dealing with the birth of our child I have to admit, we (I) was a little nervous. I had no idea what to expect. I certainly didn't expect what ended up happening.
As required by federal statute or at least by the hospital's lawyers, every woman who wants to get an epidural (an injection to make the pain of labor a little more managable) must go to a class that explains what an epidural is and how it works. Since most sane women are looking for any opportunity to cut down on the pain of childbirth (who wouldn't - you try going to the bathroom and shooting out a crying basketball), this class is pretty popular. In our class, there were about 100 people packed into a converted trailer. The temperature in the room was somewhere slightly lower than the surface of the sun.
The doctor who led the class was retired and had been delivering babies since the 1950's when they used a toilet plunger and a yoke of oxen. This guy defined the word "old school". He had probably delivered half the state of Pennsylvania, had seen it all and nothing really fazed him. He started off by saying that we would watch a wonderful video about anethesia. He then, with a sigh of annoyance, said that the video wasn't graphic but still some people (4 in the last year) had passed out, or "crashed" as he put it, watching the video. So if we felt funny, we should close our eyes and it would go away.
So the video starts and I felt like I was watching an old reel to reel movie back in elementary school. The couple who was featured in the movie (and I think were given every type of anethesia possible to show us what happens - I can't see how that baby turned out normal) were straight out of the 80's. If they they given the dad sport goggles, short shorts and knee-high tube socks, he could have played for the Lakers in the late 70's. It was fantastic.
So about the time the doctor was putting a catheter into the back of the expectant mother and I had made my 300th sarcastic comment to Missy, we heard what sounded like snoring. A guy in front of us was slumped over on his wife's shoulder. I thought he was sleeping and was about to make sarcastic comment #301 when the people around him started standing up and waving for the doctor. Then all of a sudden, the guy started seizing.
The doctor, of course, didn't miss a beat. He turned on the lights and then, knowing what was most important, rushed right past the convulsing father-to-be and turned the movie off. By the time he got to the guy, he had stopped seizing but was a color that I had never seen in a human being before-a cauliflower maybe-but not a human. He insisted that he was fine. The doctor turned to the very anxious wife and asked how she was doing. She said something incoherent and then SHE went down. Again, the doctor sprung to action. He got her on the ground and had cauliflower man keep her feet elevated. He then yelled in her face, "Hey, can you hear me?". After yelling this about 10 times, she finally came to. He asked for someone to call for an ambulance. Once she was coherent (and still lying on the floor) and the ambulance was called, the doctor said, "Well, while we're waiting...." and then went up to the front of room and proceeded to talk about different types of anethesia. Most people would stay with an expectant mother and her ghostly husband to make sure nothing else happened but this guy had to get through his material by 8:00! Priorities, people! At one point, he asked for a show of hands of how many first time mothers there were in the room. And then, I guess because he couldn't see her hand because she was on the floor, walked over to see the faint woman and asked, "How about you, are you a first time mom?" After she weakly raised her hand, he acknowledged her contribution to the survey and said, "Yes, I kind of thought you were."
Once the ambulance came (which took a surprisingly long time considering we were actually taking the class at the hospital) and wheeled out the fragile couple (to which we applauded encouragingly), the remainder of the class was relatively uneventful. The doctor did go over many things that could go wrong during an epidural which did not do much to calm the nerves of many first timers like us. He would flipantly (and even with a hint of annoyance) say things like, "Well, sometimes we put too much anethesia into the spinal space and then the mother loses consciousness. Then we have to put her on a gurney and it's kind of a pain." He would throw around terms like "collapsing" and "seizures" which would leave us looking at each other saying, "Did he just say there could be a seizure?" By the time we turned our attention back to him, he was talking about a needle or something.
Surprisingly, we left there feeling ok about the whole process but I think we were most relieved that this doctor was now retired and that we wouldn't be seeing a toilet plunger or yoke of oxen anytime soon.
As required by federal statute or at least by the hospital's lawyers, every woman who wants to get an epidural (an injection to make the pain of labor a little more managable) must go to a class that explains what an epidural is and how it works. Since most sane women are looking for any opportunity to cut down on the pain of childbirth (who wouldn't - you try going to the bathroom and shooting out a crying basketball), this class is pretty popular. In our class, there were about 100 people packed into a converted trailer. The temperature in the room was somewhere slightly lower than the surface of the sun.
The doctor who led the class was retired and had been delivering babies since the 1950's when they used a toilet plunger and a yoke of oxen. This guy defined the word "old school". He had probably delivered half the state of Pennsylvania, had seen it all and nothing really fazed him. He started off by saying that we would watch a wonderful video about anethesia. He then, with a sigh of annoyance, said that the video wasn't graphic but still some people (4 in the last year) had passed out, or "crashed" as he put it, watching the video. So if we felt funny, we should close our eyes and it would go away.
So the video starts and I felt like I was watching an old reel to reel movie back in elementary school. The couple who was featured in the movie (and I think were given every type of anethesia possible to show us what happens - I can't see how that baby turned out normal) were straight out of the 80's. If they they given the dad sport goggles, short shorts and knee-high tube socks, he could have played for the Lakers in the late 70's. It was fantastic.
So about the time the doctor was putting a catheter into the back of the expectant mother and I had made my 300th sarcastic comment to Missy, we heard what sounded like snoring. A guy in front of us was slumped over on his wife's shoulder. I thought he was sleeping and was about to make sarcastic comment #301 when the people around him started standing up and waving for the doctor. Then all of a sudden, the guy started seizing.
The doctor, of course, didn't miss a beat. He turned on the lights and then, knowing what was most important, rushed right past the convulsing father-to-be and turned the movie off. By the time he got to the guy, he had stopped seizing but was a color that I had never seen in a human being before-a cauliflower maybe-but not a human. He insisted that he was fine. The doctor turned to the very anxious wife and asked how she was doing. She said something incoherent and then SHE went down. Again, the doctor sprung to action. He got her on the ground and had cauliflower man keep her feet elevated. He then yelled in her face, "Hey, can you hear me?". After yelling this about 10 times, she finally came to. He asked for someone to call for an ambulance. Once she was coherent (and still lying on the floor) and the ambulance was called, the doctor said, "Well, while we're waiting...." and then went up to the front of room and proceeded to talk about different types of anethesia. Most people would stay with an expectant mother and her ghostly husband to make sure nothing else happened but this guy had to get through his material by 8:00! Priorities, people! At one point, he asked for a show of hands of how many first time mothers there were in the room. And then, I guess because he couldn't see her hand because she was on the floor, walked over to see the faint woman and asked, "How about you, are you a first time mom?" After she weakly raised her hand, he acknowledged her contribution to the survey and said, "Yes, I kind of thought you were."
Once the ambulance came (which took a surprisingly long time considering we were actually taking the class at the hospital) and wheeled out the fragile couple (to which we applauded encouragingly), the remainder of the class was relatively uneventful. The doctor did go over many things that could go wrong during an epidural which did not do much to calm the nerves of many first timers like us. He would flipantly (and even with a hint of annoyance) say things like, "Well, sometimes we put too much anethesia into the spinal space and then the mother loses consciousness. Then we have to put her on a gurney and it's kind of a pain." He would throw around terms like "collapsing" and "seizures" which would leave us looking at each other saying, "Did he just say there could be a seizure?" By the time we turned our attention back to him, he was talking about a needle or something.
Surprisingly, we left there feeling ok about the whole process but I think we were most relieved that this doctor was now retired and that we wouldn't be seeing a toilet plunger or yoke of oxen anytime soon.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Comments Anyone???
In my continuing education of blogging, I realized that I had set the comment page to "Only allow Blogger members to comment". Since I am not an elitist, I want anyone to tell me how much they love (or hate) my posts, I switched it. So now anyone can comment and PLEASE, I hope you do.
I'm sorry for not realizing and making this switch earlier. I was starting to develop a complex because no one was commenting. Now I know that I am just an ignorant idiot. What a relief!
Happy commenting everyone.
Also, thanks for your emails about the blog. They have been very encouraging. Please keep them coming. If you have any ideas of things I could write about or if you have any issues with what I write, please don't hesitate to let me know.
Love you all.
I'm sorry for not realizing and making this switch earlier. I was starting to develop a complex because no one was commenting. Now I know that I am just an ignorant idiot. What a relief!
Happy commenting everyone.
Also, thanks for your emails about the blog. They have been very encouraging. Please keep them coming. If you have any ideas of things I could write about or if you have any issues with what I write, please don't hesitate to let me know.
Love you all.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Killing time
Sweet! I figured out how to put in a title. I'm growing.
So I subscribe to Time magazine. I do so mostly to sound well read and relevant when I say, "So I was reading Time this week and....." The fact is I usually only read the sections that highlight jokes from last week's late night shows as well as the celebrity section in the back. However, this week (actually last week, I have been a little late in writing - sorry) the magazine took a look at "America at 300,000,000".
It talked about how we vote, what we buy (we bought 536,000 Domino's pizzas last year! That's almost 4.3 million slices - for only $5.99 on Tuesdays!), what we earn (it takes Howard Stern 24 seconds to earn $1000 and a janitor 1o3 hours to do the same - something is wrong with the world) among several other areas.
There was one section that I found most interesting. It has to do with how we spend our time. Now this topic has always struck a chord with me because somewhere along the line, I became very aware of the concept of time and how precious it is, how quickly it seems to go by and how much of it I waste.
Here are some stats that they give (and I am using round average numbers to give you a general idea - they broke up the groups into male/female, married/single, people who had time to do this stupid survey/those that actually had lives), we spend approximately 9.5 hours every day sleeping and doing "personal care" (showering, brushing teeth, etc.). We spend about 8 hours a day at work. We spend about 3 hours a day watching TV. We spend about 25 minutes a day reading.
I did a lesson at youth group last year about this same topic. In doing research, I found that the average life expectancy is 72 years. So if you take the numbers from above and determine what percentage of a 24 hour period that consume and transpose them over the course of a lifetime, you come up with some incredible numbers. I know I may sound smart using words like "transpose" but you can figure this stuff out too. (watch t.v. for 3 hours - 3 hours out of 24 - that's, um - quick typing on the calculator, 12.5%) It's simple math. Take it from a guy who was told to never take math again after 11th grade by his math teacher - oh and I never did. Take THAT Mr. Musselman! Sorry, repressed anger is buried again - onto the incredible numbers:
We will spend 28.7 years sleeping and brushing our teeth (sweet, I just woke up and my breath is fresh!)
We will spend just under 24 years working - I know that you don't work your whole life but think of it this way - if you work from age 20 to 65 - 45 years - at that same percentage, you will spend just about 15 full years at work.
We will spend 9 years watching T.V. Of course 7.5 of those years we will be watching stupid commercials that feature a talking British lizard. Freaking Geico....
We will spend just about one year reading.
For me, those numbers are, well, incredible. Obviously, we need to sleep but if we average 8 hours of sleep a day over a lifetime - that's a third of our lives! That means that I slept through more than a full year of college (hopefully, it was my sophomore year - yikes - wish I had that one back). Based on Time's breakdown, we spend about the same amount of time doing sports/recreation/exercise as well as "thinking/relaxing" as we do reading. That would mean that we will spend THREE TIMES as much time watching T.V. as we will playing sports, reading or just stopping to think COMBINED.
People, God put us on this Earth to enjoy Him and his creation. We are here to interact with each other. As you can see, most our lives are not designed to do that. I'm not saying quit your job, become an insomniac and throw out your T.V. (though that plan worked out for Thomas Edison.....) but I just challenge all of you to be intentional about each day. I know I sound like an afterschool special but seriously - watch one less T.V. show and find something else to do with that hour. Read the paper. Hit some golf balls. Start a blog!
Well, that's all I have for now. Sorry if I came across preachy, this article just really hit me. If you want to read the article, it is from the October 30th issue. Or if you click on the title of the blog, it will take you to the article online.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see what's on T.V.
So I subscribe to Time magazine. I do so mostly to sound well read and relevant when I say, "So I was reading Time this week and....." The fact is I usually only read the sections that highlight jokes from last week's late night shows as well as the celebrity section in the back. However, this week (actually last week, I have been a little late in writing - sorry) the magazine took a look at "America at 300,000,000".
It talked about how we vote, what we buy (we bought 536,000 Domino's pizzas last year! That's almost 4.3 million slices - for only $5.99 on Tuesdays!), what we earn (it takes Howard Stern 24 seconds to earn $1000 and a janitor 1o3 hours to do the same - something is wrong with the world) among several other areas.
There was one section that I found most interesting. It has to do with how we spend our time. Now this topic has always struck a chord with me because somewhere along the line, I became very aware of the concept of time and how precious it is, how quickly it seems to go by and how much of it I waste.
Here are some stats that they give (and I am using round average numbers to give you a general idea - they broke up the groups into male/female, married/single, people who had time to do this stupid survey/those that actually had lives), we spend approximately 9.5 hours every day sleeping and doing "personal care" (showering, brushing teeth, etc.). We spend about 8 hours a day at work. We spend about 3 hours a day watching TV. We spend about 25 minutes a day reading.
I did a lesson at youth group last year about this same topic. In doing research, I found that the average life expectancy is 72 years. So if you take the numbers from above and determine what percentage of a 24 hour period that consume and transpose them over the course of a lifetime, you come up with some incredible numbers. I know I may sound smart using words like "transpose" but you can figure this stuff out too. (watch t.v. for 3 hours - 3 hours out of 24 - that's, um - quick typing on the calculator, 12.5%) It's simple math. Take it from a guy who was told to never take math again after 11th grade by his math teacher - oh and I never did. Take THAT Mr. Musselman! Sorry, repressed anger is buried again - onto the incredible numbers:
We will spend 28.7 years sleeping and brushing our teeth (sweet, I just woke up and my breath is fresh!)
We will spend just under 24 years working - I know that you don't work your whole life but think of it this way - if you work from age 20 to 65 - 45 years - at that same percentage, you will spend just about 15 full years at work.
We will spend 9 years watching T.V. Of course 7.5 of those years we will be watching stupid commercials that feature a talking British lizard. Freaking Geico....
We will spend just about one year reading.
For me, those numbers are, well, incredible. Obviously, we need to sleep but if we average 8 hours of sleep a day over a lifetime - that's a third of our lives! That means that I slept through more than a full year of college (hopefully, it was my sophomore year - yikes - wish I had that one back). Based on Time's breakdown, we spend about the same amount of time doing sports/recreation/exercise as well as "thinking/relaxing" as we do reading. That would mean that we will spend THREE TIMES as much time watching T.V. as we will playing sports, reading or just stopping to think COMBINED.
People, God put us on this Earth to enjoy Him and his creation. We are here to interact with each other. As you can see, most our lives are not designed to do that. I'm not saying quit your job, become an insomniac and throw out your T.V. (though that plan worked out for Thomas Edison.....) but I just challenge all of you to be intentional about each day. I know I sound like an afterschool special but seriously - watch one less T.V. show and find something else to do with that hour. Read the paper. Hit some golf balls. Start a blog!
Well, that's all I have for now. Sorry if I came across preachy, this article just really hit me. If you want to read the article, it is from the October 30th issue. Or if you click on the title of the blog, it will take you to the article online.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see what's on T.V.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Today was a big day. We had been looking forward to (and nervous about ) this day for quite some time. Today was our 20 week ultrasound. This was the big one where they took measurements, took pictures and (if desired) told you what the gender of the baby was. Missy and I wanted to find out (much to the disappointment of many) what the gender would be. Our reasons were completely selfish. We wanted to make our job of picking a name 50% easier. We also wanted to know how to shop and register. And most importantly, I wanted to prepare myself to see which sport I would become a fan of - baseball or softball.
Baseball, it is.
The tech, Missy and I all saw the "distinguishing feature" at the same time. A boy. Seeing our child again for the first time since he was just a lima bean with a strobe light in the middle to now being a human/alien mix was such an amazing moment. The coolest part (and what gave me the most pride) was seeing the child move. And man does this kid move. He was waving his arms and legs around constantly.
Our tech was trying to do her job by taking pictures and measurements. However, our son - and this is where the daddy pride came in - refused to cooperate. Way to stick it to the man, son. The tech, at first, was very patient saying "He sure is having a good time in there!" She later called him "a riot". Then, after stretching her neck (and probably her patience) said that he was "making me earn my money". That's my boy!
An insider piece of information that I never knew until today was that this magical moment occurs during a very torturous time for the mother. To see the baby clearly, Missy had to shotgun a gallon of water an hour before the appointment. Now making a pregant woman not pee is dangerous enough by itself - almost as treacherous as standing in between her and an all you can eat Chinese buffet - but making her down a big thing of water, prohibiting her from peeing AND pressing this thing (covered in warm gel) against her bladder for an hour should be a capital offense. So all the while we were witnessing this beautiful display, Missy was giving me the death grip because she was about to explode like Mt. Saint Helens.
One last thing that was revealed to me today was the early feeling of what it will be like to be a parent. While the tech was taking measurements and pictures (during one of the rare moments that our boy was not getting down like James Brown), I had these fears like, "that big black spot - is that normal?" "why is she spending so much time looking at the heart?" "Is something wrong?" "Does he have all of his fingers and toes?" I now understand why my parents (or at least my mom) couldn't sleep until I got home at night. It makes sense why I would have to call when I arrived back at college after driving all day. I can understand. I see this beautiful creation that God has given us and even though he looks a little like Gollum from Lord of the Rings, I have fallen deeply in love with him. Our son.
Oh and now that we know - NO, we are not telling names. Though after seeing him move today, we may just call him "Elvis".
Baseball, it is.
The tech, Missy and I all saw the "distinguishing feature" at the same time. A boy. Seeing our child again for the first time since he was just a lima bean with a strobe light in the middle to now being a human/alien mix was such an amazing moment. The coolest part (and what gave me the most pride) was seeing the child move. And man does this kid move. He was waving his arms and legs around constantly.
Our tech was trying to do her job by taking pictures and measurements. However, our son - and this is where the daddy pride came in - refused to cooperate. Way to stick it to the man, son. The tech, at first, was very patient saying "He sure is having a good time in there!" She later called him "a riot". Then, after stretching her neck (and probably her patience) said that he was "making me earn my money". That's my boy!
An insider piece of information that I never knew until today was that this magical moment occurs during a very torturous time for the mother. To see the baby clearly, Missy had to shotgun a gallon of water an hour before the appointment. Now making a pregant woman not pee is dangerous enough by itself - almost as treacherous as standing in between her and an all you can eat Chinese buffet - but making her down a big thing of water, prohibiting her from peeing AND pressing this thing (covered in warm gel) against her bladder for an hour should be a capital offense. So all the while we were witnessing this beautiful display, Missy was giving me the death grip because she was about to explode like Mt. Saint Helens.
One last thing that was revealed to me today was the early feeling of what it will be like to be a parent. While the tech was taking measurements and pictures (during one of the rare moments that our boy was not getting down like James Brown), I had these fears like, "that big black spot - is that normal?" "why is she spending so much time looking at the heart?" "Is something wrong?" "Does he have all of his fingers and toes?" I now understand why my parents (or at least my mom) couldn't sleep until I got home at night. It makes sense why I would have to call when I arrived back at college after driving all day. I can understand. I see this beautiful creation that God has given us and even though he looks a little like Gollum from Lord of the Rings, I have fallen deeply in love with him. Our son.
Oh and now that we know - NO, we are not telling names. Though after seeing him move today, we may just call him "Elvis".
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Well, it has once again been a while. I thought I would let you all in on one of my better conspiracies and cover ups in recent memory. You see this picture over here was taken this past weekend on Missy's birthday in Chicago. The thing is, Missy was under the impression that we were going to Cape May, NJ to celebrate her final birthday in her 20's AND as a......not.......mother. Um, you get the idea, I hope. That's right, I came up with a grand scheme full of manipulation, lies and deception. This picture is the result.
For my birthday back in March, Missy surprised me by getting our wonderful friends Val and Steve to surprise me with a trip to Maryland for the weekend. Feeling a strong need to get my revenge, I conjoured up a plan to give Missy what she wants more than anything at every birthday and Christmas - her family.
The plan was simple - allow Missy to believe that we were going to go away for the weekend (so she would pack a bag) and that we were heading to Philly for a nice dinner (so we could drive towards the airport without suspicion). The only real complication came when Missy told me what she really wanted to do for her birthday - play cash bingo - WHAT? I couldn't understand her desire to do this. I mean she has all of her teeth, she doesn't feather her hair, she rarely wears outfits made up of flannel shirts, spandex pants and L.A. Gear shoes and has only been arrested on the show "Cops" once. But that's what she wanted to do so I had to create a grand cover up.
I sent out a mass email to our friends letting them in on the plan. I told them that I was going to invite them to play cash bingo but that it was all a cover. Their only job was to reply and express excitement about joining us in an event that would never take place. To their credit, they executed their responsibility to perfection - poor Missy never had a chance.
I laid out the "plan" to Missy and she was very excited. I picked out a nice restaurant in Philly for dinner on Friday night called the Capital Grille (6:45 reservations - we can't be late!), a beautiful hotel on the water for Friday night ($300 a night - no problem!) and a great Bed & Breakfast in Cape May for Saturday night.
Finally, a few exits before we would have gotten off to go to the restaurant, I veered off and told Missy to open the glove box. Inside were American Airlines frequent flier cards to be used on our trip to........ I didn't tell her where we were going until we were eating dinner.......not steak at The Capital Grille but over Sbarro's pizza at that airport. She cried. :)
I want to thank all of my partners in crime, specifically the two main accomplices, Greg (missy's brother) and Katy (greg's wife) who very slyly sent a group of pictures of their kids last week to increase Missy's desire to see them and who emailed Missy telling her that they may not be able to call on her birthday and apologizing because her gift would be late. Beautiful.
My plan of deceit and lies worked to perfection. Missy had a blast.
Well, that's the latest. Hopefully, I will be able to update soon with a little news about our little one.
Thanks for reading.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
No one will ever accuse me of writing too often on this thing.
So, about 2 1/2 months ago, I found out that I was going to be a dad. Missy and I had an idea that she might be PG but we hadn't officially taken the test. We had been "trying" for a couple of months - sidebar - why don't more people snicker when you mention that you are trying. Whenever you hear the word "sex", you giggle like a little junior high kid. "Trying" is just admitting that you are doing more of that. Maybe people are just more mature than me. Sorry mom if you are reading this.
Anyway, just before we took the test, I had one of my patent I'm-going-to-throw-up moments. I mean, me, a dad. My only reference to a dad was (and is) my dad. And I always thought my parents were pros right from the start. I mean I turned out ok (other than that shooting spree in '97 but the appeal is still in the courts so I haven't been convicted yet....) so they must have been experts. But me. I mean, I still play video games and crack up when someone farts. I couldn't be a dad. But at this point, it was too late. The die had been cast, so to speak.
So, anyway, Missy took the test. I didn't have my glasses on and so she was just kind of blur from where I was. However, despite my blindness, I could see her excited smile and head nodding. From that moment, I felt a joy that I cannot explain. Me a dad. That is just ridiculous. That is proof that God has a sense of humor. I know that He is going to look down and die laughing as I try and change a diaper.
Since we found out the news and more specifically when people started to find out, I have said "thank you" more often than I can remember. I would not have predicted this but the question that almost always immediately follows the "congratulations" is "are you going to find out the sex of the baby?" I don't know why people feel an obligation to ask that. I guess because that is the next step after finding out you are pregnant. And usually the answer to that question is followed by a personal story that makes the answer wrong. For example, I can't remember how many times I have had this scenario:
Person A: So are you going to find out what the sex of the baby is?
Me: Yes, I think we are going to find out.
Person A: Oh, Bill and I decided to wait. We wanted to be surprised. That was the best decision we ever made!
Me: Yes, well, my wife and I decided we would like to find out so we can pick a name and register and.....
Person A: Well, my sister was told that she was going to boy and she had three girls!
Me: That's great, I'm going to go through myself through a plate glass window now. Thank you.
Well, maybe there was a little exaggeration in there but you get the idea.
The other response that I have gotten since finding out that we are expecting is the tagline "Oh Ryan, you'll find out all about that soon enough!" That line is usually preceded by something terrible. Another example:
Person B: "Last night, my son set fire to our dog and then threw up into the back our new TV! Oh Ryan, you'll find out all about that soon enough!"
Me: (nervous smile as a I once again excuse myself to the bathroom)
So despite all of this, we are still super excited about having a child. Just knowing that another human being will come into this earth and experience its first everything - breath, word, step, projectile vomit into electronic equipment and I will be there to experience it with them. That is a truly incredible and humbling thought.
So, world, you have been warned. Another sarcastic smart alec who is way too devoted to the Philadelphia Eagles will join this world in March of 2006. I can't wait.
So, about 2 1/2 months ago, I found out that I was going to be a dad. Missy and I had an idea that she might be PG but we hadn't officially taken the test. We had been "trying" for a couple of months - sidebar - why don't more people snicker when you mention that you are trying. Whenever you hear the word "sex", you giggle like a little junior high kid. "Trying" is just admitting that you are doing more of that. Maybe people are just more mature than me. Sorry mom if you are reading this.
Anyway, just before we took the test, I had one of my patent I'm-going-to-throw-up moments. I mean, me, a dad. My only reference to a dad was (and is) my dad. And I always thought my parents were pros right from the start. I mean I turned out ok (other than that shooting spree in '97 but the appeal is still in the courts so I haven't been convicted yet....) so they must have been experts. But me. I mean, I still play video games and crack up when someone farts. I couldn't be a dad. But at this point, it was too late. The die had been cast, so to speak.
So, anyway, Missy took the test. I didn't have my glasses on and so she was just kind of blur from where I was. However, despite my blindness, I could see her excited smile and head nodding. From that moment, I felt a joy that I cannot explain. Me a dad. That is just ridiculous. That is proof that God has a sense of humor. I know that He is going to look down and die laughing as I try and change a diaper.
Since we found out the news and more specifically when people started to find out, I have said "thank you" more often than I can remember. I would not have predicted this but the question that almost always immediately follows the "congratulations" is "are you going to find out the sex of the baby?" I don't know why people feel an obligation to ask that. I guess because that is the next step after finding out you are pregnant. And usually the answer to that question is followed by a personal story that makes the answer wrong. For example, I can't remember how many times I have had this scenario:
Person A: So are you going to find out what the sex of the baby is?
Me: Yes, I think we are going to find out.
Person A: Oh, Bill and I decided to wait. We wanted to be surprised. That was the best decision we ever made!
Me: Yes, well, my wife and I decided we would like to find out so we can pick a name and register and.....
Person A: Well, my sister was told that she was going to boy and she had three girls!
Me: That's great, I'm going to go through myself through a plate glass window now. Thank you.
Well, maybe there was a little exaggeration in there but you get the idea.
The other response that I have gotten since finding out that we are expecting is the tagline "Oh Ryan, you'll find out all about that soon enough!" That line is usually preceded by something terrible. Another example:
Person B: "Last night, my son set fire to our dog and then threw up into the back our new TV! Oh Ryan, you'll find out all about that soon enough!"
Me: (nervous smile as a I once again excuse myself to the bathroom)
So despite all of this, we are still super excited about having a child. Just knowing that another human being will come into this earth and experience its first everything - breath, word, step, projectile vomit into electronic equipment and I will be there to experience it with them. That is a truly incredible and humbling thought.
So, world, you have been warned. Another sarcastic smart alec who is way too devoted to the Philadelphia Eagles will join this world in March of 2006. I can't wait.
Monday, September 25, 2006
After an unsuccessful attempt at putting a picture on my blog, I thought the only other thing I could do is "publish a post". Any advice on how to put a picture on this thing would be greatly appreciated. And here I thought I was a man of the "00's"......
Well, I left off with a mention of God and Christianity on my last post. The reason is that one is very important to me - in fact it is the most important thing to me. The other is a term that is tossed around by society like a cigarette butt being thrown out a car window. Ok, so sadly both are tossed around that way. To me, God surpasses all things in terms of importance. The reasons are countless but one major one is that He transcends this earth. He is eternal while all other things are......ternal (?) How about temporary? However, I usually have that fact reversed in my life. A new client that I may get or my plans for the weekend are what I think about while I am lying in bed. Not God. I confess that I think about God when I am in church (and not always then) or when I am staring out over a beautiful landscape or on those rare occasions when I shut the heck up and be quiet for a minute. As a human - selfish, easily distracted, easily influenced - I find myself concerning myself with stupid stuff like what is for dinner or why can't I buy an Infinity G35 rather than what is eternal. What is going to LAST. The crazy thing is that God still loves me. If I were Him, I would have drop kicked me into the Atlantic a long time ago. But He forgives and forgives and forgives and forgives and loves and loves and loves and.....you get the idea. He loves me. That is crazy to think about. He loves you. Even if you think things that would get you arrested or if you do things when you get that feeling in your stomach and you know that it will hurt someone else but will give you some twisted feeling of satisfaction and self importance. God still loves you. That is the God that I love. Unfortunately, those that are on this earth that follow God and are asked to share His message and His love to the rest of the world have messed up huge and made a big mess that no P.R. agency would ever want to try and work damage control on.
Christianity - and specifically Christians including and especially yours truly have messed things up big time. The world looks to Christians to be the example of who God is and how He acts. The problem is that we are trying to reflect a perfect and beautiful God when we are anything but perfect and beautiful. We are weak, sinful, self indulgent beings who are being asked to love the way that God does. The thing is we can't. At least not all the time. We are just as fallen and hurting as the rest of the world. We just don't like to show it. Even worse, we try and think of ourselves as BETTER than people who are not Christians. Where is THAT message in the Bible? We cast judgment on people who have problems we don't have (like our problems are better or more accurately less worse than someone elses - please). It is a natural HUMAN thought to have. But it is about as unnatural a thought for God as is possible.
So, for those of you who may read this that may not consider yourselves a "Christian" (and I can do my best to explain the definition if you like) or even religious - I'm sorry. I have been a bad example of God. I am a sinner. I am as far from perfect as the next person. I am no better than you. I have just realized that I am a sinner and asked God to forgive me and help me do a better job of serving Him. What that looks like, I'm not sure. But I know it starts with loving others more than me. That is a tall task for a sinner like me. But there is no better time to start than now.
Thanks again for reading.
Well, I left off with a mention of God and Christianity on my last post. The reason is that one is very important to me - in fact it is the most important thing to me. The other is a term that is tossed around by society like a cigarette butt being thrown out a car window. Ok, so sadly both are tossed around that way. To me, God surpasses all things in terms of importance. The reasons are countless but one major one is that He transcends this earth. He is eternal while all other things are......ternal (?) How about temporary? However, I usually have that fact reversed in my life. A new client that I may get or my plans for the weekend are what I think about while I am lying in bed. Not God. I confess that I think about God when I am in church (and not always then) or when I am staring out over a beautiful landscape or on those rare occasions when I shut the heck up and be quiet for a minute. As a human - selfish, easily distracted, easily influenced - I find myself concerning myself with stupid stuff like what is for dinner or why can't I buy an Infinity G35 rather than what is eternal. What is going to LAST. The crazy thing is that God still loves me. If I were Him, I would have drop kicked me into the Atlantic a long time ago. But He forgives and forgives and forgives and forgives and loves and loves and loves and.....you get the idea. He loves me. That is crazy to think about. He loves you. Even if you think things that would get you arrested or if you do things when you get that feeling in your stomach and you know that it will hurt someone else but will give you some twisted feeling of satisfaction and self importance. God still loves you. That is the God that I love. Unfortunately, those that are on this earth that follow God and are asked to share His message and His love to the rest of the world have messed up huge and made a big mess that no P.R. agency would ever want to try and work damage control on.
Christianity - and specifically Christians including and especially yours truly have messed things up big time. The world looks to Christians to be the example of who God is and how He acts. The problem is that we are trying to reflect a perfect and beautiful God when we are anything but perfect and beautiful. We are weak, sinful, self indulgent beings who are being asked to love the way that God does. The thing is we can't. At least not all the time. We are just as fallen and hurting as the rest of the world. We just don't like to show it. Even worse, we try and think of ourselves as BETTER than people who are not Christians. Where is THAT message in the Bible? We cast judgment on people who have problems we don't have (like our problems are better or more accurately less worse than someone elses - please). It is a natural HUMAN thought to have. But it is about as unnatural a thought for God as is possible.
So, for those of you who may read this that may not consider yourselves a "Christian" (and I can do my best to explain the definition if you like) or even religious - I'm sorry. I have been a bad example of God. I am a sinner. I am as far from perfect as the next person. I am no better than you. I have just realized that I am a sinner and asked God to forgive me and help me do a better job of serving Him. What that looks like, I'm not sure. But I know it starts with loving others more than me. That is a tall task for a sinner like me. But there is no better time to start than now.
Thanks again for reading.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
I guess I am way behind the times. Apparently, blogs have been around for a few years. I guess that's ok - I still have never illegally downloaded a song so I must be a little slow. Sorry veteran bloggers. I do dig the idea of writing stuff for people to see and comment on. Hopefully someone will read this and post. Even if you think I am an idiot and my blog is melodramatic, I'm ok with that. At least you took the time.
Well, I guess the natural thing to do in my first blog is to explain what my name means and all of that. Well, it actually has meaning on a number of levels. My best friend's stepdad gave me the nickname "Chief Rain in the Face" because I have been known to have bad luck wherever I go. I've had food poisoning enough times to be considered a biohazard myself. I am a Philadelphia sports fan - that should be explanation in and of itself. I have gotten a hole in one but had no one there to see it. In fact, I didn't even see it. I took a penalty and got a 4 on the hole. So I guess "dry in rain" is supposed to be some sort of defiance to my bad luck. Any psych majors out there, feel free to analyze this at any time.
The "rain" also means life. I have become keenly aware at how "life" - work, school, chores, errands, television - to name a few facets - can consume you much like when you are standing in the rain you have no way of not getting wet. You wake up in the morning and get ready for another day in much the same way you did countless days prior. You go through the motions of life day in and day out only to find a week has gone by. A month has gone by. A year has gone by. Has anything happened of worth - other than the weekends that you count down to every week or the vacations you savor for a week or two only to be right back where you started (perhaps worse?) when you return. "dry in rain" is my meager attempt at avoiding that. While I have a job to go to and I have errands to do, I don't want those things to define me. I don't want those things to count down the time - minutes, hours, days - I have on this earth.
"Rain" to me also means sin. In this life, everyone sins. To exist on this earth and not sin is like jumping into the ocean and not getting wet. In this instance, "dry in rain" does not mean that I am perfect. Far from it. Here, "dry in rain" is yet another meager attempt. It is a stab at doing the impossible. It is my attempt to curb my human nature. As a human being, my instincts tell me to be selfish - to think of myself. To sin. While I know I will fail at this venture, I do want to strive for perfection. Not because perfection is the point. Not because doing the right thing will bring eternal happiness and joy. Not because I will achieve financial gain. I am doing it because that is what God calls me to do - to live in the world but not of the world.
Uh oh - I mentioned the "G" word. Yes, I am a Christian. However, that doesn't mean that I always vote Republican, watch televangelists, hate gay people and want to blow up abortion clinics. Actually, quite the opposite is true in every case.
However, to explain further, I will wait until my next post. :) Thanks for reading so far.
Oh yeah, "Reflecting on the journey" - I just thought it sounded deep. I had about 10 different ideas and got impatient so I decided on this one. Moving, isn't it?
Well, I guess the natural thing to do in my first blog is to explain what my name means and all of that. Well, it actually has meaning on a number of levels. My best friend's stepdad gave me the nickname "Chief Rain in the Face" because I have been known to have bad luck wherever I go. I've had food poisoning enough times to be considered a biohazard myself. I am a Philadelphia sports fan - that should be explanation in and of itself. I have gotten a hole in one but had no one there to see it. In fact, I didn't even see it. I took a penalty and got a 4 on the hole. So I guess "dry in rain" is supposed to be some sort of defiance to my bad luck. Any psych majors out there, feel free to analyze this at any time.
The "rain" also means life. I have become keenly aware at how "life" - work, school, chores, errands, television - to name a few facets - can consume you much like when you are standing in the rain you have no way of not getting wet. You wake up in the morning and get ready for another day in much the same way you did countless days prior. You go through the motions of life day in and day out only to find a week has gone by. A month has gone by. A year has gone by. Has anything happened of worth - other than the weekends that you count down to every week or the vacations you savor for a week or two only to be right back where you started (perhaps worse?) when you return. "dry in rain" is my meager attempt at avoiding that. While I have a job to go to and I have errands to do, I don't want those things to define me. I don't want those things to count down the time - minutes, hours, days - I have on this earth.
"Rain" to me also means sin. In this life, everyone sins. To exist on this earth and not sin is like jumping into the ocean and not getting wet. In this instance, "dry in rain" does not mean that I am perfect. Far from it. Here, "dry in rain" is yet another meager attempt. It is a stab at doing the impossible. It is my attempt to curb my human nature. As a human being, my instincts tell me to be selfish - to think of myself. To sin. While I know I will fail at this venture, I do want to strive for perfection. Not because perfection is the point. Not because doing the right thing will bring eternal happiness and joy. Not because I will achieve financial gain. I am doing it because that is what God calls me to do - to live in the world but not of the world.
Uh oh - I mentioned the "G" word. Yes, I am a Christian. However, that doesn't mean that I always vote Republican, watch televangelists, hate gay people and want to blow up abortion clinics. Actually, quite the opposite is true in every case.
However, to explain further, I will wait until my next post. :) Thanks for reading so far.
Oh yeah, "Reflecting on the journey" - I just thought it sounded deep. I had about 10 different ideas and got impatient so I decided on this one. Moving, isn't it?
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