The Dating Game (and associated scary stories) 26-January-2012

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boyfriend, commitment, dating, girlfiriend, marriage, relationship, the dating game

The Dating Game

The Dating Game (and associated scary stories)  26-January-2012

Last night I saw a friend’s facebook status go from ‘In a relationship’ to ‘Single’, and I spent some time trying to find a way to change my status from ‘Single’ to ‘Still Single’.  There isn’t an option for that.  What gives???

I’m not good at dating.  It’s not a secret.  Even though it’s not something I forget, it would also seem that I get frequent reminders.  Most of the time I’m glad I’m not good at it.  If I were good at dating, wouldn’t that also mean I’m bad at being a keeper?  Yet without dating at least a little, there’s no one to ‘keep’.  It’s a vicious cycle.  A circle with no beginning or end.  The chicken and/or the egg?…  And all that.

There are lots of reasons.  Most of the time I’m so flat broke that if I do have a few spare bucks, I spend it on and with my kids.  Dating is ubercomplicated at, ahem, ‘my age’ and with kids.  I’m not an incredibly social person.  I don’t drink.  Dating web sites are…  Oy.  Lots of reasons.  Excuses?  Cover stories?  I really don’t know.  I say that a lot.  There are lots of things I don’t know.

However, there *are* a few things I’ve learned about people in the dating arena, or at least the ones I seem to come across in my stage of life.  Here are some sweeping generalizations that I am certain may generate angry letters to me.  Oh dear, I’ll end up single!

Seinfeld:  Some people are only dating so that they can ‘win’ the relationship, like that episode of Seinfeld.  They date only long enough to find a flaw that makes the other party unworthy, and/or a reason to dump them, even if they only had one date.  It seems like they think that they get points for ‘winning’ the dates/relationships.  In any case, since their goal is to ‘win’, the game is of limited duration no matter who wins or loses.

Lonely:  Just dating cuz he or she is afraid to be alone, and/or is simply lonely.  Will die without that half that makes them whole.  Is incomplete without a ‘partner’.  This person is seeking a boyfriend or girlfriend.  A warm body to fit that ‘spot’ in their lives, with little regard or thought given to whether or not this or that particular dating partner is really anything more than a placeholder.

Popularity:  This is like a spin-off of the Seinfeld group above.  Somehow, the more actual single dates this person has, the better they feel about themselves.  This person isn’t looking for relationship ‘wins’, they’re looking to pad their numbers like an accountant doctoring the books…  “I had so many dates last year, I blah blah blah…”  So, 200 dates with 175 different people makes them super cool?  It’s a bragging rights thing?  Signing up to be number 176 doesn’t seem like it could be the end of that story.

Jenga:  It’s the ‘Popularity’ group above, but for the refined pro dater who needs to have a lot of romances going at once.  Like Jenga!  The taller the shaky tower, the better!  Quick to build another shaky tower as soon as one round ends in a heap.  Somehow, the added complication of a 7^th dimension to the already chaotic hundreds of dates creates more fulfillment for this person.  ?  It’s the challenge?  Iunno.

Hobby:  Just a way to meet people and try new things, but not really looking for a long term relationship.  If the stars lined up properly, they might settle down and give up dating, but if not, they’re in no hurry to choose the wrong person to fill any voids.  This is kind of the joyride group?  Like cruising.  No destination, just enjoying the ride.  I think.

Marriage or Bust:  “I’m going to be married in the next 3 months.  If I get married, I can have a bigger house, a newer car, retire sooner, etc…”  This seems more like a business transaction to me than anything else.  One that seems far more likely to fund a divorce than a retirement.  Oy.  Again.

Image:  This person dates because they worry about what people might think if they don’t.  People might think they’re gay.  People might think they can’t get a date.  People might think they’re unlovable if they’re not in a relationship.  Must be something wrong with him or her if he or she is single?  As if the presence or absence of a mate is somehow a measure of the individual?

Trade-In:  This group is always dating someone, but always looking for something ‘better’ to ‘trade up’ to.  This person is never ‘off-limits’ or in a relationship they wouldn’t ditch if they thought the next person had more to offer.  Always shopping.

Horny:  #selfexplanatory  (<<<how many of you saw the word ‘sex’ in this tag, then went back to re-read it?)

I’m apparently doing it wrong.  I don’t think any of the above reasons to date are good reasons to date.  I’m not incomplete without a woman in my life.  I don’t care what people think… about anything really, let alone what they might think of me being single.  Not in any hurry to remarry.  No desire to rack up big bragging points about how much or often I date.  I would just like to find someone whose company I enjoy, and then date that person.  Just one.  One at a time.  For as long as it’s good for both of us.  Really simple.  Yet apparently not at all how other people do it.

I guess it seems like most people date just to date.  Like the gameshow.  Like a sport or a hobby or a recreation?  Whereas, I see it as something I’d like to do with the right person.  Date her.  Thus the confusion, at least on my part.  I’m looking for a person, while it seems other people are looking for dates.

Anyway…  this is going in circles,  just like it always does inside my head, so I’ll get to what little point I’m able to make to myself on the matter:  All the while, over the past 5 or 6 years of being a bachelor, trying to figure all that out, that massive investment that I see others make in dating, I haven’t made.  And since I haven’t invested myself in dating, I’ve had more of myself to give to my kids.  And because of that, well…  we’re the family that we are.  A really good one.

You know that little tip of the Ying that is just a sliver next to the head of the Yang?  Yeah, that’s what dating is to me.  That little sliver of one thing that allows more room for something else in the bigger picture…  I think.  There’s room for all of it in the proper proportions, but unless you give each thing the right real estate, the synergy gets broken.  I think The Oracle tried to tell me this once.  I just didn’t ‘get it’ then…  I take back everything I said about doing it wrong.  *Whew*.  I’m glad I had this talk with me!!!

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Bachelor

Fear and Respect 22-January-2012

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children, dad, daddy, family, father, fear, kids, love, parenting, parents, relationship, relationships, respect

RESPECT

Fear and Respect  22-January-2012

A lot of people will/would probably disagree with me on this issue.  Or at least, by looking around the world we live in, it would seem that way.  In any case, I wanted to define these terms the way I see them for the purposes of making a separate point.

Fear:  It’s always instilled by force.  You can’t earn it and nobody wants it.  It’s the baser of these two terms, in fact elementary compared to Respect.  It’s simple in concept, and instilling it is a relatively quick and easy thing to do.  People have no end of fears.  You can make people fear getting fired.  You can make them fear violence even if there is no real threat of it.  Sometimes people are afraid of things you don’t even mean for them to fear.  No matter how you look at it though, fear is a real, true, and legitimate motivator.  One simple word or phrase, or a brief display of power can instill fear.  Basic.

Respect:  It can only be earned.  You cannot force anyone to Respect you.  It’s hard to earn and everyone wants it.  It’s a very complex concept because so many different people respect so many different things.  It takes a very long time to earn respect, all the while also very fragile in that it can be lost quickly with a simple word or phrase, or a brief display of a number of things.  You can earn respect lots of ways.  Sometimes you try and try and eventually you get the respect you wanted.  Sometimes people respect things you had no idea would earn you respect from them.  All too often we do many things that are worthy of respect, yet sometimes even the most respectworthy things go unrespected.  Complex.

A lot of people seem to confuse the two.  Fear and Respect.  All the way from individuals to governments to entire societies…  if you’re physically abusive to someone, they don’t respect you.  They fear you.  If someone looks you in the eye and says, “I respect you.” …well, they probably don’t fear you.  For me it’s relatively black and white.  I know the difference between someone that respects me and someone who fears me.  And while I do strive for respect the majority of the time, I’m also not discounting the effectiveness of fear.  If you mess with my kids for example, you won’t find me trying to earn your respect  …and you’re likely to end up afraid of me.  But that’s a last resort in my world, in my book.  Instilling fear is a short term solution for situations that do not have the luxury of the time it takes to build respect.

Those that respect you will interact with you.  Through interaction you get mutual understanding, and through that you get a whole jackpot of other things.  Complex.  Respect is to some extent a relationship, while fear is very one-sided.  Those who fear you will not interact with you. They will do as you tell them, or they will avoid you.  Basic.  It’s very important to match your intended goal with the avenue you take to get there.

Even though I want to paint this as black and white just to make a point, I know it isn’t.  People that respect you a great deal might also fear you at least a little.  Those who fear you a great deal may also respect you at least a little.  I’m speaking here more about situations based solely on fear or solely on respect.

Since those who fear you will not interact with you, you’ll never truly know them.  You’ll never  know whether they’re agreeing with your heart or if they’re just agreeing with your words because they’re afraid to disagree.  You probably won’t know them at all.  It snowballs too.  The longer they fear you, the less they respect you.  The less they respect you, the slimmer the chances are of a relationship ever developing.

Sometimes I think that people who want to instill only fear without any attempt to earn respect are actually filled with fear themselves.  Afraid of being unworthy of respect.  But that’s just what I think.

Here’s the easy part.  The people you love, and who love you, deserve your respect, and deserve for you to work to earn their respect.  Love can exist with or without fear, and with or without respect.  However, love that exists in the face of fear alone…  will one day part ways with the source of the fear, no matter how deep the love, or how great the fear…

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Respect

Adoption Fair 21-January-2012

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adoption, children, dad, daddy, dog, dogs, fair, family, father, kids, love, relationships, rescue, ruff, story

SLIDE SHOW

Adoption Fair  21-January-2012

We hadn’t said hello to the fine folks at Ruff Love Rescue in too long, so we stopped by one of their adoption fairs today just to hang out a little.  No surprise that Sophie wanted to stay all day, “But there are so many dogs!” but Ezra surprised us both…  didn’t once ask if we could go home yet!  Normally he’s not a fan of leaving the house!

While walking Barney, the beautiful Beagle in the pictures, Sophie said, “It’s like Baxter put just a little bit of his soul into every dog we meet.  Every dog I meet reminds me just a little bit of Baxter.”  Whether you believe in souls or not, I can assure you that Baxter was on that walk with us today.  As well as every other walk we ever have taken or ever will take.  I just didn’t realize it until Sophie told me so.  She walked lots of them too.  Some of them twice!

Surprise of the day though was the hour-and-a-half ‘sit’ Ezra went on with Sheldon!  Before Sophie and I had even said hello to everyone, I turned around to see Ezra in a corner between crates, sitting next to this very timid (and very beautiful) young lad.  Pure hearts connect in all sorts of different ways.  Sophie interacts.  Ezra doesn’t have to.  I just watch them both, hoping I might master at least one or the other technique one day.

I showed the kids these pictures before I posted them, and Ezra said, “I didn’t even notice while we were there how pretty of a dog Sheldon is.  I just sat with him.  I didn’t really look at him.”  Sophie said, “It’s only been over an hour and I miss Barney already!”

Isn’t that how the world should work?  Leave an impression so good that everyone you met while you were breathing, sees a bit of you in everyone they meet long after you stop?  And at the same time, quietly touch even more hearts without uttering a word?

In summary, every dog we met today was a good doggie.  Not that there was any doubt…

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Dogs

Real Problems 18-January-2012

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children, dad, daddy, family, father, financial, kids, parenting, Philosophy, problems, story, stress

Real Problems  18-January-2012

A couple of days ago, I was reading a story from the archives, and I realized that it has been a long time since I ended a sentence with, “Just another day in Paradise here.”

Every now and then I lose focus.  Ok so like a lot of the time I lose focus!  A few years ago, I came to the conclusion that, in order to compartmentalize the mountain of issues I was going through at the time, I was going to define ‘Real Problems’ as those which money could not solve.  Just my own little way of looking at it.  Pancreatic Cancer:  Real Problem.  Brain Tumor:  Real Problem.  Power Bill late:  Not a Real Problem.  I’m not saying that the bills aren’t worthy of worry, I’m just saying that they are a different level of problematic.

Now that I’m pretending to be a grownup, I worry even more ‘too much’ than I used to.  It’s in my nature to, as Mom used to tell me, “Stew about it” and that’s not healthy.  (Hey kids, listen to your Mommy and Daddy at least sometimes, ok?)  The past few months have been such a flurry of problems that I only realized yesterday that I’d gone back to my old habit of just lumping them all together and stressing about all of them equally.  Time to regroup.

This morning when I woke up, I was a little giddy with my re-newly-found realization that most of my problems could be solved with one lucky lottery ticket.  Yet, by lunch time, the dust of ‘simple’ money problems settled around that one big ugly monster of a Real Problem that no amount of money could ever hope to slay.  And it’s a doosie.  We all have them.  Real Problems and ‘problematic problems’ and minor problems and financial problems.  We all get to decide which ones are the real problems and which aren’t, in our own way.

This story, though, is written for two reasons.  Firstly, writing helps me sort out my own thoughts, and I’ve been in a writing slump for months.  I decided that today I’d just write something, anything, to try to get the ball rolling again.  Secondly, I really did need to refocus and get some perspective.  Mission accomplished, I think.

Guess how many problems I solved today?  None.  Guess how many problems I solved by regrouping them into Real Problems and not-so-real ones?  None.  What I *did* gain, however, is the realization that worrying about all of them all of the time was also clouding the fact that amidst all those problems, I also have the world by the love handles in a million ways!  And for every problem, I have at least 10 blessings.  And for that one big monster of a Real Problem that will probably never be (re)solved, I have two Miraculous Blessings.  My list of Good vs. Evil is weighted very heavily in my favor.

No bills due until February.  No monster fighting battles scheduled until mid February.  Today is January 18^th.  And only 3 hours before my Blessings get home from school.  I think I’ll tell them that they’re miracles so big that they dwarf even the largest of Real Problems, and make problematic problems seem insignificant.  Because that’s really how I feel about them.  Just another day in Paradise.  All I had to do was dust off the ick.  The Paradise was always under there…

Without the darkness, we couldn’t recognize the light.  Without the prairie, we couldn’t recognize the forest.  Without the Real Problems, we couldn’t recognize the Blessings?  Shame on me…

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Paradise

Part of the Problem 12-December-2011

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attack, blood, children, congestive, congestive heart failure, dad, daddy, diastolic, failure, family, father, heart, heart attack, high, high blood pressure, hypertension, kids, love, parent, parenting, parents, pharmaceuticals, pharmacy, Philosophy, pressure, stage, stage 1, stage 2, story, stroke, systolic

Part of the Problem  12-December-2011

 

Today, I’m going to become part of the problem.

 

I’ve had high blood pressure for years.  Stage 2.  And then some.  I used to take medications for it, many years ago.  I used to take a lot of medications.  I didn’t know what most of them were, I just took them because a doctor told me I needed to.  That resulted in seizures, which eventually resulted in my heart stopping completely (twice), which resulted in…  a whole mess of other bad stuff that was, sadly, far worse than death.  I don’t make mistakes like that twice.  I stopped following blindly many years ago.  And I’m healthier, in every way, than I’ve been in 10 years.

 

I have two amazing children.   I’m an awesome Father.  My kids are still very young, and on top of them actually *needing* a Father for many years to come, I have very high hopes that we have many years of family fun together ahead of us, and you betcha, I’m hoping this big strong heart in my chest is beating long enough to see my Great Great Grandkids.  I know it’s a big, strong, strong heart because it cranks out enough pressure to frighten people.  And people want me to think that’s a bad thing…  *sigh*

 

A couple of months ago, I started reading about high blood pressure, the possible causes, and talking to people about it.  Immediately, I was read the riot act by everyone I spoke to (Yes I’m talking to YOU, Cathy Jean!) for being foolishly bullheaded about the stupid pills, why in the world wouldn’t I just take the damn pills so that I can avoid a heart attack?  Just take the damn pills, Scott!  That’s not why I was trying to talk to people.  I was trying to actually figure out what *causes* the problem, so that I can make an educated decision about *how* to treat it.  With my doctor’s guidance.  Not with me following blindly.  I finally stopped talking to people about it, because as far as I can tell, nobody on the planet ever actually tries to understand what the pills do or why they take or ‘need’ them.  Just take the pill, a doctor said to.  It’ll fix you.

 

I know high blood pressure is a serious condition (mine especially) and I have every intention of doing something about it.  Following blindly is not the answer.  Consulting with the doctor is supposed to be the beginning of a means to an end, not a complete solution.  It is my/your/our responsibility to also understand our own illness and support the doctor in the treatment.  Not just follow blindly.  Your doctor doesn’t want you to follow blindly any more than I do, he’s probably just given up on getting people to be a part of the treatment.

 

I was talking to Sophie (The Oracle for those of you not familiar with her gifts) about it one day last week when she was home from school sick.  I wasn’t asking her to decide for me, whether or not to take pills, I was just trying to get a hint from her as to just how much (not IF, but how much) my bullheadedness might be blinding me on the issue…  she said, “Daddy, of all the things that have tried to kill you, do you really think this one will be the one that does?  A dumb pill will make you stronger?  You’re fine.  Other people are just more scared of things than you are.”  There you have it.  Permission from The Oracle to ignore the issue completely.  I’m off the hook.

 

Just the opposite.  Can you imagine if I stroked out next week, how Sophie would feel forever, thinking she told me not to take the damn pills?  Karma, you bitch, you played that well.  But you still owe me big, so wipe that smug grin off your pretty face!!!

 

So this afternoon I’m going to become part of the problem.  I will, for the first time in nearly 5 years, have a prescription.  With refills.  That’s right, I’m 41 years old and by some miracle I have somehow survived 5 whole years without any prescriptions.  Unpossible?  I like to think my strong heart and thick skull both had something to do with that.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get some pills that will ‘fix’ that for me…  following blindly is a far more serious problem than high blood pressure…

 

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Problem

My 4 Year Anniversary 09-November-2011

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children, dad, daddy, dance, date, date your daughter, dates, daughter, family, father, kids, night, parent, parenting, parents, Philosophy, relationships

Slide Show

 

My 4 Year Anniversary  09-November-2011

Today marks 4 years since I got my first ‘Yes’ on the best date I’ve ever had!

I spent some time going through pictures to find just a few of my favorite pictures from those nights…  and, of course, I’m no longer allowed to call them ‘Date Nights’, but a Daddy Daughter Night by any other name still feels every bit as sweet!

It’s happening fast… she was a toddler on 09-November-2007, and now today on 09-November-2011, she’s just about almost a young lady…  the story below is from that first date!

Here’s to 40-50-60 more years, Baby…  You name the time and place Baby and I’ll wear any shirt you want.

Sophie’s First Date  09-November-2007

It all started out innocent enough. I had dinner with friends Tuesday night and the kids helped me find a suitable shirt. I haven’t worn anything but T-shirts for so long I had to revisit my button-downs to remember what I had. It came down to either an all-black long sleeve button-down or an all-white. I won’t go into the parallels between the color of my shirt and the color of my soul, but I do think it may have entered the picture at some point. Anyway, Sophie wanted me to wear the white one and Ezra was voting for the black one. I told Sis that the white shirt was very nice, but it might be a little formal for Mexican food. Besides, I’m doomed to spill salsa on anything that will show it. So black it was… however, on the way to drop the kids off at Angie’s, Sis said, “Daddy, if you would wear that fancy white shirt I would go on a date with you.” I said, “You name the time and place Baby and I’ll wear any shirt you want.”

Now I have to break from the story for a minute to elaborate on the circumstances surrounding this story. Ezra turned 7 and Sophie turned 4 in September. Ezra and I do lots of ‘guy stuff’ together, and do get some one-on-one time with Sophie, but it’s usually my idea and I usually have to talk her into it. I don’t take it personally- she’s still a Mommy’s Girl and that’s OK. But when she hinted that she might actually *want* to have some special time with me I got a little excited. She’s at that age where her personality is developing so uniquely and she’s changing from a toddler into a little girl. And she’s oh so sweet. And too damn pretty for her own good!

So Friday came and Angie ended up having the day to spend with the kids, although I was appointed to occupy my little lady while Angie had some business to attend to in the afternoon. A brief trip to Wal-Mart netted us the cedar chips that had been absent from the puppy pen, as well as some pink carnations that caught Sophie’s eye since they matched her fuzzy pink shirt. She said, “Daddy, can I have these for our date?” Of course she can. She said, “Can we go on our date soon?” I said, “Well, Baby, let’s ask Mommy if we can do that this weekend. I’m not sure when she and Ezra are going shopping.” Shortly after picking Ezra up from school, he asked his Mom if they could go shopping, and I said, “Well, Sis, do you still want to go to dinner with me?” She said, “OK Daddy, let’s go.” And headed straight for the door. I was so excited!

We first had to come by my house and get the aforementioned ever-important ‘fancy white shirt’, which pleased my little lady greatly. A little overdressed for Chinese, but hey, it made her smile. Our first stop was her ‘new favorite’ Chinese restaurant near my house. This is also significant because for years her fine pallet has only allowed Chinese from ‘China Buffet’ near where we used to live in Lewisville. The people there know Angie and the kids very well and always enjoy the visit. I’ve tried several other restaurants nearby but never found one to please Sis. This past Saturday we hit ‘Malay’ nearby and not only was the food acceptable, but they have a small fish pond inside where the kids were allowed to feed the fish! Success. She still prefers ‘China Buffet’ because she has so many friends there, but on our date she wanted to feed the fishies. So we went. She had plain lomaine like always, and I ventured into dangerous (cat for those of you who believe the rumors!) territory with General Tso’s Chicken. Mmmm. Spicy! Sis whittled her way through nearly half of her giant order of noodles and sampled all the sauces available. This seemed to make our (first) waiter a little grumpy, so I dismissed him and the second waiter was much more personable. Sophie’s favorite fish was the (very hungry) black one with white spots (or white one with black spots depending on how you look at it) who was by far the most brave.

OK. Flowers for the lady. Nice dress shirt. Get the door for her. Dinner at her choice of restaurants. Now what? The mall of course! Ice cream. The carousel. Escalators. Glass elevators. Christmas trees. Hell *I* was excited and I’m (supposedly) a lot older than 4!!!

So off we went. The lady’s music of choice was ‘Kidz Bop 12′ which she knows most of the words to, and she was kind enough to sing to me most of the drive to the mall. Our first order of business was some window shopping (with her riding on my shoulders) at dresses and Christmas trees and fancy sheets and even a few whispering waterfall-type nicknack things at one of those kiosks in center of the mall. Our initial search was intended to find the carousel, but the waterfall thingies caught her attention. One was of the ‘floating ball’ type that has enough pressure beneath a marble ball to let it ‘glide’ over the water. Sophie’s curiosity got the best of her and she picked the ball up to find that there is significant pressure under there to spray/soak a small child! Profuse apologies from the vendor directed us to a nearby hot air dryer in the bathroom. Small pitstop and we were back in search of the carousel.

And it’s a fairly elaborate carousel for no bigger than the mall is. Just what you think of when you hear ‘carousel’, dancing horses and fancy carriages studded with jewels. A teacup. Her first ride was on a white horse with a fancy saddle, which proved to have a sharp bite when I tried to pet it. It gave her a nice gentle ride though, and she expressed concern that the black horse (the black stallion, significantly bigger and more spacious than the other horses) might have been more fun. Next time. For now though, she was itching to have the ice cream I had previously promised her for eating such a good meal. Hershey’s Ice Cream was convniently located near the carousel, so off we went. Sis had Mint Chocolate Chip in a cup and I hit the other end of the spectrum with Peanut Butter Caramel Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough in a sugar cone. (See ‘Midnight Ice Cream’ for the significance of sugar cones…) Neither of us was able to finish our single scoop, but it did hit the spot. Several more references to the black stallion led us back for one more round on the carousel. An extra long ride this time as we were the only ones left at this point, and it was really time to head home as it was nearing her bedtime!!! (I know her Father personally and this is one date I didn’t want to bring home late!!!) A couple more trips up/down the escalators (totaling 437 times) and a brief trip in he glass elevator, and we were off. Er, I mean, after she talked me into a quick gander at Santa’s workshop. But then straight to the car with you little lady! Er, I mean, after she talked me into a quick stop in the family bathroom… But right after that we were done!!! (Sis loves the family bathroom at the mall because it has a tiny potty and sink and dryer just her size, and I love the family bathroom everywhere we go because I don’t have to stand guard in the *generally filthy* men’s room while my little girl goes tinkle. Win-win.)

Unfortunately, her Father is also a little forgetful, and couldn’t remember where he parked the car! A lengthy search of the (very large) mall parking lot gave her another opportunity to ride on Daddy’s shoulders as ‘lookout’ helping to find the car. Before we found the car though, we were accosted by a tiny (yet viscious) little attack dog in a car we walked by, which scared the daylights out of both of us. I think it was an American Eskimo, but in any case a small pfoofy little thing that sounded far more terrifying than it looked. Buckled the lady into her seat and took her music request again… her latest is ‘Girlfriend’ by Avril Lavigne, mostly because it’s a catchy tune that’s fun to sing. So I sing along, although if I sing too loud I get scolded for not sounding very pretty. I would rather hear Sis sing any day anyway.

By this time I noticed that she was starting to nod off, and we ran into traffic on Silas Creek Parkway due to an accident, so our brief trip home was extended significantly. She insisted that I put ‘Girlfriend’ on ‘repeat’ so we could sing it over. And over. And over. But this was enough to keep her awake all the way home, and as we pulled in the drive she actually said, “Daddy, can I go to bed early?” Of course she can.

Now, I’ll start a new paragraph here because this was my favorite part of the whole evening. I absolutely loved the entire thing, but this part got me. We were in the Camaro, and her carseat is in the passenger rear set, so I have to turn around to unbuckle her before I exit. She was oh so tired and wanted me to carry her to the house, and as he always does when exiting the car, she climbed over the console and into the driver’s seat to step out. I stood in the door and extended my hand to her to help her into my arms, and she paused as she took my hand and said, “I had a really fun date with you Daddy.” I’m a relatively tough-as-nails sorta guy, but I’ll stand straight up here and tell you I shed a couple of tears over that one. I felt like I was helping my Princess out of her carriage after a wonderful night of dancing at the ball. Why does she have to grow up??? I know she’s going to grow up all too soon… but not today.

I reminded her several times throughout the evening that if she didn’t remember anything else from our date, she *had* to remember that one day when she’s ready to date (when she’s 35 and not a minute sooner!) she can only go on a date with a boy if he treats her at least as good as her Daddy does. If she finds one that treats her as good as her Daddy does, I’ll walk her down the aisle. And not a minute sooner.

Baby Girl, someday a long time from now when you’re all grown up and on your own, please remember that you’re never too old to go on a date with your Daddy. You name the time and place Baby and I’ll wear any shirt you want.

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Home

Parking Lot Repairs 23-October-2011

Tags

alignment, camaro, car, cars, cruise, cruise in, father, lot, parking, Philosophy, repair, repairs, ss, story, z28

Slide Show

Parking Lot Repairs  23-October-2011

First and foremost, please know that the condition of your vehicle can affect the weather.  For example, if you’re driving across the country in an old Chevy van, and your fuel pump is about to fail, regardless of the season or state you’re in, you should expect a light drizzling/freezing rain, or at the very least a sudden downpour just as you coast off the side of the road.

 

Therefore, note that since today I’m just recreationally adjusting stuff in parking lots, the weather is gorgeous.  Parking lots all dry and clean.  Not a cloud in the sky, and a nice cool breeze on a 65 degree fall day here in North Carolina.

 

Some minor toe-in adjusting gave me the pleasure of sampling a number of the local parking lots today:

 

Maplewood Family Practice:  An only mildly aging parking lot, about 50% grayed and with a good ‘grippy’ surface.  This asphalt has a hint of glass recycling in it, and was spotlessly clean.  Plenty of spaces to park where there were no oil-drip scars to work around.  Highly recommend.

 

BB&T Headquarters:  This is an ‘old-school’ parking lot that you’d expect to find in SCCA events.  Larger grained chips that would grip hard and ‘chunk out’ tires in a competition.  Therefore, for repairs that might take several hours, you could expect several skinned knees and elbows.  Nice and flat though, as well as clean.  Nothing wrong with this lot per say, but it would be the last I’d recommend of those I sampled today.  Just too many good ones to choose from!

 

Robinhood Adolescent Medicine:  This baby is brand spankin new.  The building just opened a couple of months ago, so this parking lot is flawless with zero oil stains.  Super smooth, yet with just enough grip to keep you from sliding around.  For a cool fall day like this, I have to recommend this lot above all others I sampled today.  The only down side might be that on a hot day, the darker black asphalt here might get very very hot.

 

My Driveway:  Of course, there’s no place like home.  Smooth concrete that even a cheap roller-creeper would ride over like a Cadillac.  I only did my first adjustment and final snug-up here.  With so many exotic locations to sample, I was glad to be out of the driveway even though we all know your own floor is the best floor to crawl around on.

 

Any one of these lots could be considered ‘luxurious’ though, if you were 300 miles from home on a cold rainy night.  It’s all a matter of perspective.

 

I was making adjustments by counting hex flats, where 1/6^th would be one hex, or 1/6^th of a rotation of the rod adjustment.  If 15/6ths is the entire span between ‘too far out’ and ‘too far in’, then 7/6ths is the perfect amount of toe-in, right?  It certainly drives perfectly now.

 

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Redneck

 

Heart and Soil 18-October-2011

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children, dad, daddy, family, father, generation, generational, generations, immortality, kids, parent, parenting, parents, Philosophy, story

Slide Show

 

Heart and Soil  18-October-2011

 

“The town crier didn’t say the storm was raining acid.  Did he?  I recall his dramatization, but I recall nothing about the storm being able to wash away life itself.  He should have mentioned that.”  Gunnar was good at making light of bad situations in order to survive them, but Elizabeth could always see through him.  He was truly worried.

 

“It will pass.  All storms do,” she replied softly, knowing that her own voice was one of the few things that could soothe her brother, although he was unlikely to admit it.

 

The two spent days inside the cave, looking out at the rain, watching all signs of life get washed away.  At first the rain only wilted the leaves and plants, but eventually it washed away…  everything.  Even after the rain stopped, Gunnar insisted they remain in the cave until the ground dried, now nothing but brown mud without a hint of ever having sustained life.

 

When Gunnar and Elizabeth did leave the safety of the cave that sheltered them from the storm, they found the same story painted everywhere they went.  The entire town had been washed away, from its heart of townsfolk, to its very soil which had sustained the town and its people.

 

Over the following days, some of the townsfolk returned only briefly, to say good bye and collect a few belongings.  What once was their home would no longer support life, let alone an entire town.  It was time to move on.  Some of the townsfolk did not even return to claim their belongings.  In a matter of days, only Gunnar and Elizabeth remained.

 

“You know that fate calls for us to go now as well, right Elizabeth?” Gunnar grinned at his sister.

 

“And you know very good and well that I won’t be going anywhere,” she replied sharply to her brother.

 

“Oh I know.  Nor will I.  I just wanted the record to show that on this day, I spoke common sense, and I wanted history to remember you as the one who ignored it.” Gunnar couldn’t hold back a full, glowing smile now.

 

“Common sense, like all things noble, would be wise to know when to stand down to a Lady.  Take your smug grin to the next town down and bring back some seed.  I’ll furrow in the absence of your grin,” Elizabeth grinned back.

 

“Aye, Miss!” Gunnar saluted and went on his way.  Elizabeth furrowed, as promised.

 

For months, the two planted furrow after furrow of seeds, while not one of the seeds sprouted.  The two worked hard.  They argued.  They cursed the dead soil and they had to survive on rations they gathered from far away woods and neighboring towns.  Gunnar and Elizabeth were even whispered as having ‘gone mad’ by folks in neighboring towns, as the soil they had been born into, yet continued to work, had been long dead.  Yet the two remained, and planted seeds.

 

Now, as old folk tales go, you might expect that Gunnar and Elizabeth eventually lost hope, left the dead town, and one day far in the future returned to find it alive and well.  Or, you might think that just before leaving the town permanently, they spied a small sprout that gave them hope and helped them decide to stay.  You might think a lot of things.  But you’d be wrong, because none of those things happened.  Souls as old as Gunnar’s and Elizabeth’s carry no end of new folk tales.

 

Gunnar and Elizabeth continued to plant seeds in the dead soil, in spite of the fact that even with their strong wills and faith in the soil, they also knew that they might do so for a lifetime without a single seed ever sprouting.  Yet they chose to do this because it was their home, and it was what they were made of.  They did not hope that one day folk tales would be told of their hard work rewarding them.  They did not wish for the day they could tell all the naysayers how wrong they’d all been, or the day they would feast on the fruits of the seeds they’d planted.  They did not attempt to convince others to work the dead soil alongside them, with the promise of future fruits.  Often, they did not even look toward a future where their home would once again be fertile.  They sewed their hearts and souls into their homeland, because they could live no other way.  It was not a choice or decision they made consciously.  It was simply who they were.  Old souls know that some storms, or the damage done by them, do not pass in a human lifetime.

 

Fortune did in fact shine on Gunnar and Elizabeth though, and eventually seeds did sprout in the dead soil.  Not like they do in fairy tales, though…  it wasn’t a magical moment where the sun shone down and a single seed sprouted instantly into a mighty oak tree.  For years, seeds sprouted then wilted.  Some seeds grew well then died overnight.  Eventually though, the ground did become fertile, and supported an entirely new crop.  It was different from any others that had grown in that soil before, and it took time to learn to farm this new crop.  In the end though, Gunnar and Elizabeth’s efforts were fruitful…  life did certainly, once again, flourish there.

 

If your home is truly where your heart is, your heart will never stop beating within the family that grows from your home.  Gods may grant your soul immortality, and doctors may revive your body after the heartbeat within it has gone silent.  Strangers can tell of the man they knew you to be.  There are many ways that a man can leave a legacy, can be remembered, or can be defined as immortal.

 

Immortality isn’t achieved through books or pictures or folk tales…  well, not entirely anyway.  Generations sew what you’re made of into themselves as well as future generations, and what parts of you they plant in the soil you gave them will shape the lands around it just as much as the passage of time will.  It’s a type of immortality that you can only achieve if you aren’t trying to.  It’s a byproduct of having your heart in the right place.

 

Only your children can grant immortality to the very essence of who you are, and what you’re made of.  If you’re really lucky, they may even manage to breathe that essence back into you when Gods and doctors have failed to do so.

 

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Soil

Lunch Report 14-September-2011

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cafeteria, children, dad, daddy, elementary, father, kids, lunch, mom, mother, parent, parenting, parents, report, school, story

2011-September-14 Lunch Report

 

Lunch Report  14-September-2011

 

Elementary School lunch.  How old am I if I had fun at school today???

 

I wanted to post this to my blog, so I’ll change the names to protect the guilty, but we started off with ‘Dave’, aka the ‘Floor Sandwich Kid’ from a previous luncheon adventure.  That kid is serious about food!

 

I was having trouble understanding how Big Bird fit into a song that Ezra and Dave were singing, so I asked if we could put Barney in there instead, and possibly change him to yellow, because I’ve never been a fan of that purple color he wears.  Dave had a better idea.  He felt that Barney would fit the song better if he changed not only his color, but his side of The Force.

 

Then, while still wearing his yogurt mustache and between dips of his Nutter Butter into his milk, Dave did his impersonation of ‘Barney Vader’ luring the Pre-K kids over:  “Children… -whooshing noise like Darth Vader voice-  come to the Dark Side of the Pre-K room!!!”

 

Which then somehow led to a discussion about breakfast cereal (of course) and Dave said his favorite is Cinnamon Toast Crunch, because, and I quote, “It’s good, but the best part is when the cereal is all gone, and you have that beach of cinnamon sand left at the bottom of the bag, and you can dump it in your milk and mix it up!”  That kid can paint a cheery picture of any kind of food, on the floor or otherwise!

 

Whew.  Enough boy stuff.  Time for my little lady to join us!  She had a ketchup sammich with a little bit of ham and cheese mixed in it.  She mostly ate the ketchup-y parts and as hungry as I was, I didn’t even attempt to salvage the ham she didn’t eat.  There is a point of ketchup super saturation that even *I* probably can’t survive.  Had to let that one go.  For safety reasons.

 

Sophie-  “And that’s Mary’s little sister, doesn’t she look just like Mary?”

 

Me-  “Yep sure does.  Is she as Sassy as Mary?”  (Mary and I go waaaaay back to gymnastics class from years ago, where we sat and gossiped while waiting for siblings to finish their class, so we totally respect each other’s Sass!)

 

Sophie-  “Even Sassier than Mary!!!”

 

Me-  “Is that possible???”

 

Sophie-  “TOTALLY!”

 

Deeply concerned about this influx of Sass at Mary’s house, I contacted her Mom immediately and she did confirm it.  Both girls:  Very Sassy.  Oh dear.

 

Then I got a long story about a love note, which I can’t disclose at this time, because I’m pinky-sworn to girly-secrecy, and we all know the seriousness of that, but rest assured it was soooo cute that I got misty!  Also, we learned later that Andy had in fact swiped the love note that *I* left in Sophie’s desk, and was teasing her about it, and that kid is in hot water tomorrow!!!  Don’t mess with Daddy’s love notes!

 

And then I had to go home. 

 

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Lunch

Just Wanna Be Me 12-September-2011

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be, children, dad, daddy, family, father, just, just like my dad, just like my mom, kids, like, me, mom, my, parent, parenting, parents, relationships, to, wanna, want

Me

 

Just Wanna Be Me  12-September-2011

 

We were watching a movie over the weekend, and Ezra said something that still has me thinking, several days later.

 

Red from ‘Hoodwinked Too’ said, “I was trying to be just like Granny…” and so on.  Ezra said, “Kids always say that.  Why do they say that?  They want to be just like this person or just like that person, why don’t they want to be themselves?  The only person I’m trying to be ‘just like’ is ME!”

 

And at first I was a little hurt.  I mean, what parent doesn’t like to hear, “I want to be just like my Dad!” or “I want to be just like my Mom!” etc?  I told him he’s a really confident kid, and that he *should* be just like him!

 

The more I think about it, that’s exactly what I teach him.  To be himself.  Follow his heart, do the things he loves to do, and be proud of who he is.  I also teach him that *I’m* far from perfect…  I’m impatient sometimes, on a rare occasion I can be just a touch bullheaded, I wish I’d learned this or that sooner, etc.  I try to teach him the good things I do well, and teach him to ‘do better’ the things I’m not so good at.  And the things he loves that I don’t know anything about, we learn together.  I suppose I’ve been teaching him that all along, and it didn’t hit me until he said what he said during the movie the other night:  I only want him to be ‘like me’ in the ways that he wants to be, but mostly I want him to be himself.

 

I’ve decided that instead of getting my feelings hurt, I’m going to keep doing what I’ve been doing, even though I didn’t realize I was, in many ways, teaching them *not* to be like me!  I should be teaching them the things I know and do well, trying to improve in myself the things I teach them I *don’t* know or do well, and in the end, I want them to be better people than I am.  In many ways, they already are.

 

I tell Ezra this often, and I truly mean it every time I do so, but I’ll say it here again for the world to hear…  Ezra is a finer man at age 11 than most men become before they take their last breath, at any age.

 

So it took me about 3-4 days to sort all that out in my head, and realize that…  I’m not hurt that he doesn’t want to be ‘just like me’…  I only want him to be the parts of me that help him become who he wants to be himself.  If he learns to do that with all the people in his life, be the parts of them that complement who he is, and avoid the parts of them that detract from who he is…  well he’ll be in pretty good shape.

 

He had all that figured out a long time ago.  Smart kid.  Suddenly, I want to be more like Ezra!!!

 

Cheers from The ThreeFiveZero Me’s