The Eyes Don't Have It

       I have lost one of the simple joys in life, and I am not happy about it.  Last night I was sitting at the table eating dinner, and a cereal box was sitting on the table in front of me.  As I sat there eating, I thought back to something I did when I was a child, and something my kids do now.  When I was a kid I loved to read cereal boxes while I ate.

     I don't know what it is about those boxes.  Some people like to read a newspaper, but I always preferred the cereal box.  I wish I could give an award to the first person who decided it was a good idea to put trivia and games on the back of those boxes.  Whoever it was, they were a genius.  There are a lot of fun little games, and great trivia on the boxes.  As I thought about this, it brought back warm feelings of my youth.  I decided to read the box in front of me. That's when I realized I had a problem.

    I am not as young as I used to be.  I realized this the other day when I took my son out to let him kick his football off of his tee.  He was kicking away, then decided he wanted to see his Daddy kick one.  I had visions of kicking one over the tree in our yard, knowing my son would surely be impressed by the tremendous highth and length of my kick.  Instead, what happened is I barely kicked the ball farther than my six year old, and ended up with a slight limp. 

     Back to the subject at hand, as I sat there looking at the cereal box, I realized that I could not make out anything but the large print on the box.  I tried to focus my eyes, but had no luck.  I needed my glasses.  I have several pairs of reading glasses, but rarely wear them.  There is something about the fact that I really need them that I just don't like.  I guess it is the fact that wearing them amounts to admitting I am growing older, and my body doesn't work as well as I used to.

     The cereal box was the last straw.  What was always a sweet innocent joy is now out of reach for me without my glasses.  Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair.

Once Again, Bam!

     It always amazes me how things happen in life.  I have written this same thing in several different forms, too  many times probably, but every time it happens it blows me away.  This time was really weird.
     Bear with me, if you get tired of me writing about my kids, and my Dad.  Tonight (I am writing this Tuesday night) my son got me.  People can say what they want to about genetics versus environment, but my son pulled one out of the genetic sky tonight.
     I was in the kitchen eating supper, and he was in the living room playing his handheld game.  I wasn't paying much attention to him, as I was hungry, and he was occupied.  Every so often I would look in on him, just to make sure he was not into anything he wasn't supposed to be.  When I looked in on him this time though, what I saw floored me.
    My Dad, late in his life, had trouble breathing.  The way my Dad coped with this was to relax in the strangest way I have ever seen.  My dad would be in the floor on his knees, with his body and head on a couch or a chair.  He would sleep like this a good bit of the time.  That was also the way he would read, relax, whatever.  He breathed better that way.  I hadn't thought much about that lately until tonight.
     When I looked in on my son, he was sitting on his knees on the couch, leaned over the arm of the couch like he was praying, playing his game.  He was comfortable, and he was happy.  It hit me like a ton of bricks, he has a lot of my Dad in him.  My son has often talked about his PawPaw Jerry, even though my Dad died before he was born.  I remember at my Dad's funeral, several people told me how much my Dad had been looking forward to his grandson being born.  I think he got to meet him before any of us did.
     Anybody that has lost a parent knows how hard it is.  The pain gets easier, but it never goes away.  I see so much of my Dad in my kids that makes me realize that their is always a part of him here.  I never forget my Dad, but sometimes life gets so hectic I let his memory fade just a little.  Luckily my kids are there to bring it back.  The holidays bring with it special challenges, which I will post more about later.  Right now I just want to take a few quiet moments and remember my Dad, and look forward to the day when I will see him again.

An Almost Interim Type Of Guy

     Monday was the type of day that sums up the way stuff goes for me most of the time.  I finally got the results of the Reader's Digest Contest, and I was not in the top 10.  What that means is that my story was good enough to be considered for a prize and publication, but not quite good enough.  I take consolation that my story was voted into the top 100 though.
     Yesterday I also published a post titled "1000".  The topic, in case you weren't one of the 10 people that read it, was a celebration of my 1000th view of this blog.  The only problem was that by the end of the day, I only ended up with 991 views.  This was just another in my history of coming up just short of my goals.
     I seem to be the guy that always comes in 2nd place, always good enough to get by, but never good enough to win.  Several times in my life I have been an "interim" choir director, or a runner up in contests, those types of things.  That's not to mention that most every time I try to do anything, it never turns out quite like I meant for it to.  I even ran for city council one time, and ended up with 18 votes.  I am proud to say that the man that beat me ended up going on to be Mayor until he retired.

Cousin Virgil

     Thinking about this could really get a guy down, but the more I thought about it, the less it bothered me.  I may never win, but at least I give it a shot, and am in the running.  That has to count for something.  As I write this, The Andy Griffith Show is playing on my television, the one about Cousin Virgil.  If you are a fan of the show like I am, you know the one I am talking about.  Virgil makes a mess out of everything he does, until the end of the show when Virgil saves the day.  Virgil is given the job of cleaning the jailhouse keys, but in the process destroys the keys, with Otis locked in the cell.  Virgil finally tells Andy that he does good, as long as nobody is watching.  When finally given the chance, with nobody watching, Virgil picks the lock and gets Otis out.
     There are worse things than being the runner up, and I take solace in the fact that I am "good enough" most of the time.  Hopefully this story will finally bring me my 1000th view, better late than never.  I have to take the victories however I can get them.
   

1000

Mi Familia

     This blog entry will probably bring me my 1000th view.  It is flattering to know that 1000 times someone has been intrigued enough to come and read what I have written.  This entry is just going to catch people up on what all has gone on lately.
     First of all, I made the finals of the Reader's Digest short story contest.  I have had several people ask me about it, and am flattered.  The winner is supposed to be announced some time around the first of the year.  I'm not holding my breath about winning the $25,000, or even $2,500, but it sure would be nice.
     Rose is now finished with her first year marching.  All she has left is the Christmas Parade.  The band did awesome this year, all superior ratings, and placing high in each contest they entered.  Rose really enjoyed this year, like I said before, she has found her "thing".  I have to admit, I took a lot of pride in watching her on the field marching.  She came a long way from the beginning of the year.  I noticed a tremendous improvement in her marching, and playing.
     Lauren's soccer team did not have the best year, but she got to play forward and goalie, which she never got to do before.  She didn't score any goals, but came close a couple of times.  The funniest thing was during one game, she had a breakaway and was running down the field with the ball.  I of course screamed at her. "GO LAUREN!!!!"  When I did that she turns and looks at me, losing the ball in the process.  We did however get to go on a few road trips, just the two of us, and spend some quality time together.
     Matthew's football season was interesting.  The team pretty much broke even with their record, and made it to the semi finals in the tournament.  Unfortunately they got matched against the best team in the league, who had not given up a single point all season.  The Bulldogs did score one touchdown, which was the only points that got scored on the Indians this year.  Unfortunately, the Indians scored 8 touchdowns, so Matthews season came to a close.  I noticed a great deal of improvement from him also in his first year.  I give credit to his coaches, who took the time to teach him, be patient with him, and truly seemed to care about him.  Towards the end of the year, some of the coaches would even spend time with him and several other after practice, working with them on basics one on one.
    As for me, I am still addicted to butterscotch, still cry when I am happy, and have not crossed anything of my bucket list. My wife, the lunch lady, is still cooking great food and keeping me well fed.   Lastly, I do appreciate each and every one that comes up to me and tells me that you read my blog......even if you do call me Santa.

To Be(ard) Or Not To Be(ard)

     I have a big decision to make in the next couple of days.  I have on the past few weeks neglected to fully shave, and now have an almost acceptable beard.  I have trimmed every day, but just haven't felt like fully shaving.  Now I have to make the tough decision, to keep the beard, or to shave back o my normal goatee.
     I know this doesn't seem like a big deal, but it involves a lot more than meets the eye.  Whatever I decide to do, I have to take into consideration the "coloring" factor.  Yes, I color my beard.  I don't think that is any big secret, as I let it go several weeks between colorings, and I'm sure most people notice when the salt and pepper turns into total pepper.  Coloring a goatee is easy, and I have gotten quite good at it.  I never have mastered the total beard though.

Hollywood Hogan

     One time before I decided to grow my beard out, and went to color it.  What happened was brutal.  If you ever watched wrestling, and remember "Hollywood" Hulk Hogan you understand.  What I ended up with was a dye job that looked like I was trying to look like a doofus.  I don't dye beards good.  That time I didn't have enough hair on the beard to hold the dye correctly, so basically what I did was dyed my face black.  I shaved the beard, then scrubbed my face for two days.
     I would love to keep the beard, for nothing else but to help keep my face warm.  I don't do cold well, and facial hair helps.  I have to do the dye if I do though, as it is too close to Christmas and I just can't stand the thought of kids running up to me thinking I am Santa Claus with a white beard.  When I was a kid, I used to play Santa during the holidays to make spending money.  That was cool, I had padding and a fake beard.  I don't think my fragile psyche could handle it if I was mistaken for Santa without the fake beard and padding.
     I always go the safe route, and this time will probably not be any different.  I will more than likely shave the beard, keep the goatee, and dye away.   If however I happen to go crazy and try to keep the beard, and dye my face, don't laugh too hard.  And if by some chance I decide to keep the beard and not dye, please don't ask me how Rudolph is doing.

Soul Searching

     Wow, I promise, I have meant to keep up with the blog.  I have thought about it several times, but never did get around to writing anything.  Today I am going to let everybody into my mind for a little bit.  It's not going to be very comfortable for me.
     Anybody that REALLY knows me knows that I have problems.  I'm not talking about major psychological issues, (although I guess they could be), but just normal idiosyncrasies.  I sometimes take these quirks to the extreme.  First off, I like people, I really do, but most of he time I cannot stand being around anybody else.  I guess some people mistake it as me not being friendly, or things along those lines, but that is really not the case.  I am extremely self conscious, and that leaves me feeling awkward in public situations.  I know that sounds weird, but if you aren't this way, there is no way you could understand.  It drives me crazy some times, because  I would love to be out, have friends, and do things normal people do.  I just can't do it most of the time.
     I guess it is, truthfully and painfully, depression.  I hate to say that, because I know of the stigmas that are associated with that term.  Some days I would just rather stay in bed and not face the world than get up and do what I have to do.  Lately, I have been facing these feelings more often than not.  It's not something that I am proud of.  Last week was a perfect example.  We had a dinner at my church, and my family went.  Everything was fine, and I was having a good time, then it hit.  I quietly slid out of the building and went and sat in the car by myself.  I just couldn't take it any more.  It hurts. 
     The hardest part to me is that I never feel like I am good enough, or do good enough in anything I do.  At one point in my life I used that to drive myself.  Now, I mostly let it keep me down.  As hard as it is for me to admit, I have pretty much quit trying at most things.  I go through the motions.  I go to work, do my job, then go home.  My best days are when I can get through the day without being noticed.  I can actually go through some days with barely speaking to another person if I want.  Not a fun way to be.
     I know a lot of people think I am just not friendly, or whatever, and I hate that.  Please just try to understand.  If you are ever around me and I seem like I am in my own little world, I probably am.  Hopefully now that I have gotten this out of the way, I can get back to writing about things that people want to read about.  Now if I can just hit the post button. 

A New Beginning

     I haven't blogged in a while.  Between band, football, and soccer, I just haven't had the time or the energy.  Something happened tonight though that made me decide to bring it back.  I have had several people tell me how much they enjoyed reading, and I felt guilty because I wasn't posting.  I had a few things I thought about talking about, but nothing really hit me as being THAT important lately.  Tonight that changed.
     As I started home from work today, I made my daily call to tell my wife I was on my way home.  The conversation soon turned to my son, who has been having trouble at school.  He had gotten into trouble again, and would have to miss his field trip this week.  The trouble was nothing major, just an impetuous 6 year old that has trouble containing his energy.  I came in the door, talked to my wife to get the full story, then took him into my bedroom for a talk.
     We had already had pretty much the same talk the night before, about having to try really hard to follow directions, and to think about what he was doing before he did it.  He was in tears, as he explained he tried really hard, but could not seem to stay out of trouble.  As we laid there talking, I had to explain to him that the field trip he had been so looking forward to was not going to include him.  The simple fact was that the teachers were afraid that he would lose his concentration and wander off, and the teachers were worried that with all of the kids, they would have trouble watching him and giving him the attention he needed.  I totally understand this, and am thankful that the teachers were honest enough to share their concerns.
    While I was talking, and he was crying, something hit me right between the eyes.  I was being stern with him, but deep within myself I was struggling watching my son as he was struggling with the consequences of his actions.  I was struggling, between wanting to hug him, and comfort him, while at the same time doing what I had to do as his father.  I stopped for a minute, and prayed, telling God of my pain in having to have this talk with my son.  That's when it hit me.
    That is how it is with each of us and our Heavenly Father.  How it must grieve God when we go against what He so clearly tells us to do.  When we do this, He must correct us.  While we are being corrected, God, our Father must also grieve.  It is not out of anger, but out of duty that God must bring us to the correct actions.  At the same time, He also wants to love us, and hold us tight.  This led me to my next revelation.  We have to accept the consequences of our actions, but only to a point. How hard it must have been for God to give HIS Son, as the ultimate payment for OUR transgressions.  
    Hopefully I will be back to blogging again.  It is something I love to do, and something that many people seem to enjoy.  I have a lot to talk about, and several months worth of life while I have been away to talk about.