ENGLAND/WALES 2023

My wife and I will be traveling to England and Wales next spring. I am a huge Manchester United fan, as well as a fan of English Premier League soccer. I dreamed of one day watching my team play in one of the world’s premiere soccer venues, Old Trafford. One day my wife, Robin, said, “Why don’t we go?”

Now, two people of our age planning an overseas trip is not a spur-of-the moment thing. We both work, we both have major health issues, and we have a family. But if there is one thing my wife can do well, it’s plan and organize. I, apparently, can’t count, so I’m letting her plan and organize,

Step 1 was to get tickets. Manchester United is, arguably, the biggest name in the world of professional soccer. It’s a global brand, so one does not simply order Manchester United tickets. Simply put, they weren’t available, as every game is sold out. At least, tickets were not available at the price we wanted to pay. Ahhh! Therein lies the rub. I found a couple of hospitality tickets for the match between Manchester United and Chelsea. We have a chance to see the real Captain America, Christian Pulisic! These are two seats in a posh area of the stadium. We’ll have great seats access to complimentary adult beverages, food, and a private, personal tour of the Manchester United Museum. The catch? They were $600 apiece. Robin said, “This will be our big-ticket centerpiece of our once-in-a-lifetime trip.” So the tickets have been purchased. We also officially became members of Manchester United. I mean, we have the hospitality seats, right?

Next came the passports. Neither Robin nor I have ever traveled outside of the continent. I’ve been to Canada, our oh-so-polite and wacky 51st state up north, as has Robin and she’s been to Tijuana in her lukewarm, tempestuous youth. Neither visit necessitated a passport. So, I, with my vast knowledge of various bureaucratic entities, and processes, dove into the US State Department‘s passport application process. The secret to a successful government endeavor is the same as the secret for a husband to have a long, successful marriage.

Do what they want, the way they want it done, when they want it done, and do it with a smile. Jewelry helps. That’s just for marriages. If you give government bureaucrats jewelry you can go to jail. So as of this past Wednesday, Robin and I are now expectant passport applicants. In 5-7 weeks, we’ll have a celebration as we announce the newest members of our family,

We have been in contact with a travel agent. In a couple of weeks we’re traveling down to St. Wendel, IN to visit Robin’s parents. We’ll also meet with a former classmate of Robin’s who is a travel agent. She will help us plan our trip, arrange flights, hotels, etc. If it were up to me, I would just hop in a car and drive there. I wouldn’t make it past the beach, but that’s the level of knowledge I have of international travel.

Our plan, at this point, is fly into London and spend a few days there. I will say up front that I hate big cities. Masses of people make my skin itch, and hyper-vigilance is exhausting. However, I do have to reward Robin, who has done the yeoman’s portion of the planning. I will also be able to personally meet Dylan Gwinn. Dylan and I have collaborated on projects with Safe Havens International, the non-profit school safety center I work for. He lives in England, and is a right nice chap, so it will be a pleasure to personally meet him.

Next up? Wales. If there’s one thing I love, it’s talking about Wales, King Arthur, pubs, castles, and other-worldly creatures. But clearly not counting.

All Men Are Created Equal

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FATHER’S DAY 2022

I woke up, got my coffee, and went out onto the back patio to listen to the birdsong, watch the birds on the feeder, and listen to some of my podcasts.  My oldest daughter Jessica made a breakfast of pancakes and bacon.  My youngest, Carole, who is a bit estranged from me, texted me Happy Father’s Day, and told me she loved me.

Other than that, I spent the day on the back patio reading, listening to my podcasts then music, enjoying the dry, mild summer air, and enjoying some peace.

I grilled some burgers, and my son-in-law Christian and Jessica joined us for a nice, quiet dinner. The two demon-spawn were with their abuelito José, so Christian was enjoying some quiet time.  All in all, a quiet day. Robin called her father to wish him a Happy Father’s Day, and it came crashing down on me.  I couldn’t call my dad.

PAPAW

My father passed away on December 17, 2018, after a mercifully short battle with pulmonary fibrosis. To my children and grandchildren, he was Papaw.  To me, he was just Paw.  He had a way of speaking that was mindful of a down-to-home hillbilly, which masked his intelligence and served to disarm a lot of people and put them at ease.  He and I shared a love for Louis L’Amour books, so it just seemed natural to call him Paw.  It would irritate Robin when he and I would carry on a whole conversation like we were extras in Beverly Hillbillies, with a lot of “I reckon so” and “y’all” or “I ain’t orta ought to…” I’m sure Robin felt IQ points being sucked out of her as she heard this, but it was our way of sharing a small piece of the world between us.

I was named after him, and I can’t remember a time when I ever resented that.  As I got older, I realized that I was very much like him, and I was perfectly all right with that.  I admired him, as a father and as a man, and I always hoped that he was proud of the man I’d become.

Life does what life does, and he was called to Heaven.  Too soon for me, but I didn’t get a say. A year later, I lost my mother on January 2, 2020.  I became an orphan at 56.  Cue the movie Annie.  Now I can be the plucky little kid looking for a Daddy Warbucks.  Nah, I’ve got Robin, and she is much better looking than Daddy Warbucks.  I was always pleased to know that Maw and Paw loved Robin, verifying that at least in that respect, I done good.

Maw & Paw November 2018

PARENTS

I take solace in this; my life has gone in much the way that I think God intended families to be.  Maw and Paw were devoted to each other for over 50 years.  They were the stable core for our family, raising three children.  Sure, there were bumps along the way.  It’s life, and that’s what happens.  So, I was raised in a stable home, had parents who loved me and whom I loved and respected in turn. My parents passed before me or my siblings.  The way it should be, at least in this broken world.

My parents were able to see their children grow to be successful adults, with children of their own.  We made trips to see them.  They got to spend time with their grandchildren, and then their great grandchildren.  I was on a business trip when my second grandchild was born.  I returned maybe a month and a half before Paw died, and we were able to get a picture of 3 generations of Steves.

LEGACY

One thing my parents did teach me, and I hope I’ve passed this along to my children: it’s not the mistakes we make that define us, it’s what we do about them that defines who we are as a person.

I remember a time nearly 20 years ago.  Robin and I were separated, and I was talking with Paw on the phone.  He was telling me what I needed to do to fix it.  It involved doing something I didn’t want to do, which was take responsibility for my actions, and I told him, “Paw, it’s not that simple!” Without hesitation he replied, “Yes, son, it really is that simple.  I didn’t say it would be easy.”  

You know, he was absolutely correct.  I made the simple decision.  It wasn’t easy, but Robin and I are a week away from celebrating our 33rd anniversary.  He had a way of cutting through the crap the world would throw at him and break it down to simple, home-spun wisdom.  I miss that in my life, and I miss him.  I am glad Robin got to call her father.  I can’t help but wish I was able to talk to mine.

That brings to mind something else he told me, once. “Dead is dead.  It ain’t for the living to dwell on, cause we cain’t do nothin about it.  Living’s for the living, so I reckon we should focus on that.”

I reckon so.

33 years and counting…

The Wisdom of Nature

Today I sat on my back deck, engaged in my favorite activity; bird watching.  After my now monthly Entyvio infusion for my Crohn’s Disease I often don’t feel well, so I took the rest of the day off, and as the weather was good, I watched birds.  I have a couple of bird feeders up, and I enjoyed watching the little birds come and eat, and do their bird things while I watched and let the world slip away for a bit. What I found is that there are things to learn from these little creatures.  Owls may be wise, but even the little birds can teach us a thing or two.

Keeping it Simple

Birds, like other animals, have a knack for keeping life simple. Live or die. The ultimate binary choice. Nature has handed them the simplest of decisions, do what you can to live, or cease to be. Birds are not burdened by politics, hierarchies, or whether the other birds like them.  Other birds are either a threat or they are not.  If they are a threat, you fly to safety.  If they’re not a threat, you go on doing what you need to do.  A binary choice mirrored throughout the animal kingdom.

A flock of sparrows came to visit.  Approximately 20 or so at a time.  I call them Compies, after the tiny dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.  

Compsognathes

They swarm in, raise a ruckus for a few minutes, then move on to some other area, holding Sparrow Court throughout the neighborhood.  I watched a mother and father feeding their young.  The baby bird squatted on the ground, rustling its wings with its mouth open.  It is clearly signaling for more food. What I didn’t see were the parent sparrows opining on how hard it was to parent.  They didn’t harangue their kids about what they wanted to be when they grew up, or reminded them to put their shoes by the door.  The baby was hungry, and mom and dad gathered food to feed it.  They showed the baby the ropes, how to get food from the feeder, and how to hide when the hawks flew overhead. They kept it simple. Live or die.

Hierarchies

I noticed another thing as I watched.  There were no true hierarchies.  Sparrows did not

give deference to Cardinals, Robins or Blue Jays.  Size was no determinant either, as smaller House Finches pushed aside Sparrows and other birds to get to the seeds. Eat or don’t eat, live or die. 

Life for an animal is a string of binary choices.  Animals don’t demonstrate for better living conditions.  I certainly don’t open my back door to see birds gathered together with picket signs and tiny little bullhorns.  Birds don’t complain about how the other birds treat them.  They eat or don’t eat, live or die.

Binary Choices

Humans like to think life is complex.  We add layer after layer of gray to our binary lives. We add cares and opinions and expectations and slights, perceived or real, to the way that we see life, and those around us.  We crush ourselves under the weight of the life we have created for ourselves. We will sit and drink coffee, tea or something stronger and wish for a simpler life.  We lose sight of the fact that we are in control of how we react to what happens to us.  It starts at the core, a binary choice that should drive all others. Live, or die?

Who Are You?

My favorite sci-fi series of all time is Babylon 5. Aliens galore, telepaths, techno-mages, true love, lots of action, space battles, you name it. And lots of fodder for metaphysical rumination.

There is a race called the Vorlon. An ancient, secretive race. They had an ambassador on the Space Station Babylon 5 named Kosh. In the second season, he meets the new captain, Captain Sheridan. The Ambassador looks at Captain Sheridan and asks, “Who are you?”

Captain Sheridan spent the rest of his life answering that question. I think the lesson is, we all spend our lives answering that question. Or we should. I sometimes wonder if people have the wherewithal to even consider the question.

I know some will respond to the question by saying, “I am a <insert occupation>.” But can we really be what we do? Isn’t there more to us? What about those who work in careers that don’t define them? I’m an insurance adjuster, but that’s not who I am.

Others might reply, “I am <insert accomplishment>.” But if we are the accomplishment, do we stop being something if we stop achieving? I was the Indiana Assistant Principal of the Year in 2011, but that’s not who I am.

Sheridan learned that the answer to the question is found in serving something bigger than yourself. Serving yourself is like eating empty calories. It makes your stomach full, but your body is not well served. A person can get trapped into looking for the next job, or the next accomplishment.

In the US Army Reserves, I served my country. As a teacher, I served my students. As a school administrator I served the students, staff and the community. As an insurance adjuster, I serve veterans and their families. As a husband, I serve my wife, and as a father and grandfather I serve my family.

Taking that to the next level, I serve God. In his service, I serve others. In this service, I find fulfillment. No matter what I do, if I serve others I fulfill God’s plan for me. Take that, Ambassador Kosh!

That begs the question, “Who are you?”

Babylon 5

Meditations, Part 4

From my brother, I learned that there is true evil in the world, and that there are stout warriors who oppose it. He taught me that such bravery comes with a cost, and that true bravery is not in facing danger, but in doing what needs to be done, knowing the cost, but doing it anyway.

My brother taught me that excellence is a choice. Success comes with the application of will, and the fortitude to withstand whatever comes. Goal attainment, not success, is the epitome of excellence. He formulated his goals, worked his ass off to attain them, and in doing so attained excellence. As he says, “The only failure is the failure to try.”

My brother has taught me that greatness does not equal perfection. This is life, and mistakes are part of it. You can chose to let it weigh you down, or you can incorporate it into your life and move on. It is a choice. Choose to live.

My brother taught me that we choose our tribes. We choose with whom we identify, and that we need to be aware of the positives and negatives of being part of a tribe. Choose the right tribes, and be aware of why you chose them, and don’t be afraid to leave the tribe if it isn’t making your life better.

Most of all, my brother taught me that life can hand you nasty, shitty situations, but that perseverance can get you through the shit into happiness.

Don’t give up, ever.

Meditations, Part 3

From my sister I learned to express myself. She is a poet by nature, and when she wasn’t looking, I would see for myself how she viewed the world. Much understanding would not come until later, but the understanding did arrive, and continues to reveal itself to me.

From my sister, I learned to passionately defend that which I hold dear. She referred to people she cared about as her “babies”. She would defend her babies fiercely, verbally if needed, but mostly by offering guidance, wisdom and straight talk.

I learned from my sister the practical distillations of my father’s teachings. She put into action what he taught, and I learned how they worked in real life through her example.

My sister exemplified my mother’s perseverance in her dogged pursuit of what was right for her babies. This perseverance flourished in the face of adversity. There is no more noble pursuit than to persevere in the service of others.

This she taught me.

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