Category Archives: Life

Adios 2016, don’t let the door…

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Back in the mid 1980’s, an activist friend of mind Dave Aldrich sent out a memorable Christmas letter that was definitely one of a kind.  In this short missive he astutely pointed out about a dozen things that are just wrong in this world, covering the gamut from wasteful military spending, the oxymoron of compassionate conservatism, greedy politicians, abject poverty, the decline of unions and the middle class, and tax cuts for the wealthy.  It was a pithy list of gripes and then he simply signed it –“Merry Christmas.”

At the time I grinned and though to myself “must have had a bad day”, but the point of it all was and still is, complacency bothers him a great deal.  I still remember a quote from a letter a few years later where he pointed out that we worry about these issues after we’ve swept the garage, washed the SUV, and spent out days reading and writing e-mails. We rarely ponder our existence or question the status quo.  I remember thinking to myself ‘guilty as charged’.  I don’t, but I should.

With that in mind and in the spirit of Dave Aldrich, I offer this summary:  2016 blew.

Not to go completely negative on you, there were some good things that happened during the year which I’ll touch upon, but overall, Donna and I were just talking about the benefits of getting this year behind us.

First, the good stuff.  Our two grandkids Kaden and Karter are growing into fine young gentlemen.  We can’t say enough good things about them.  Both competitive game players, both silly, both good-natured, and fun to be around.  I was going to say that we’re lucky but the more I though about it, luck has nothing to do with it.  Good parents have everything to do with it.  Great job Kelli and Kyle.

Donna and I spent about a week in Chicago and did a deep dive of the city.  The entire trip was scheduled around a Cubs home stand so that we could make sure to take in trip to Wrigley, but we also took in some incredible Blues, Jazz, improv, museums, Navy Pier, and an evening boat tour.  The Cubs beat the Dodgers an a sunny Memorial Day weekend and we really enjoyed the atmosphere.  Having invested in a jersey for herself, Donna became an instant Cubs fan and was glued to the set during the very exciting World Series finish where the Cubs pulled of an extra inning nail biter vs. Cleveland.  She was on the edge of her seat.

This summer the house got painted.  It looks great but it’s a huge time sink to get it done even if you’re not the painter ( see low-lights below ).

In October we traveled to sunny Sacramento, California for the wedding of my cousin Mike Eady to his new bride Shelly. Lovely wedding and always good to catch up with extended family.  We spent some time checking out Sacramento as well and were impressed.

We’ve been doing a new monthly-ish dinner / social gathering with some great friends and neighbor’s and sharing a lot of laughs.  Included a relaxing weekend trip to Manzanita where we ate, drank, played games, and golfed ( yes Glenn, Donna golfed ).

I’ve battled through some challenging health issues and am starting to get my musical mojo back a little bit.  I have a few recordings out on soundcloud and youtube, none of which are that good, but all were a lot of fun to do.

Donna keeps a schedule that I can only marvel at.  When she gets free time at home, stuff’s a moving.  It’s a literal beehive of activity with art and gardening projects.  She’s the ideas person of the family.  I’m the implementor – at least when it comes to the heavy stuff.  In addition to all this she’s got an aging parent to take care of.  Middle age comes at you from all directions.  She’s not a complainer though, she’s a doer.  That’s what I love about her.  The calendar gets pretty full fast, but no matter what’s on there, she just rolls up her sleeves and gets it done.

And lastly, if you know her you’ll understand why this is news.  I beat my sister Patty twice during 2016 at Words with Friends.  That would fall under the category of ‘exceeding expectations’.

So there, I mixed i some positive things.  Now for the overall 2016 Summary:

                          Major Buzz-Kill

Think Planes, Trains and Automobiles where Steve Martin’s wife is anxiously waiting for him to get home to an impeccably prepared Thanksgiving feast at an upscale Chicago home, followed by what it took for him to get there.

Words cannot describe the disappointment of November 8th.  It’s a gut punch when you invest so much time following the news for a year and a half thinking “no way”, and then see your worst nightmare come true.  Trying to hold the family together during a time where close family members feel personally threatened by the incoming administration is a challenge.  It’s emotional.  I’ll leave it at that.

At times like these, I wonder if the Jehovah Witnesses aren’t right after all.  Maybe we are getting near the end of times.  I’m only half kidding.

On the plus side, I feel less of a need to chime in and criticize what the current Mob Boss-elect is under fire for.  He’s perfectly capable of making my point for me with his twitter machine.  I don’t have to say a word.  Just sit back and watch the entertainment, and entertaining it will be.

2016 brought on some medical challenges for me that I was determined to conquer.  The biggest one is anxiety.  I spent about a year and a half not being able to drive on freeways, which is limiting and an added stress on Donna.  But after seeing several specialists, I think I may be getting real close to a solution.  I’ve driven to Eugene a couple of times recently.  It’s not perfect but it’s on the upside.  I look forward to having a less full calendar year of doctor appointments minus the added expen$e and trying to sneak in all these appointments while maintaining a busy work schedule.

The Ducks were 4-8 and lost to the Beavers and both Washington schools.  It doesn’t get much worse than that.  And the Huskies put up 70 on the Ducks at home.  Now I have to be quiet for at least another year, maybe longer.

I’m in my 4th year at Cambia and speaking of rapid change, 4th manager.  No complaints about the new job — great people, love the work, but it’s a ball buster.  There are days when I envy Ward Cleaver grabbing his briefcase and heading off to a job where he doesn’t have to worry about being outsourced every quarter, does a bit of work from 9-5 and the comes home to his happy family.  Such is not the case ( except the happy family part ).

Our go-to friends, Wayne and Tricia Wischmann moved to Arizona in June.  We understand why, but it sucks when your social network gets disrupted.   We have such fond memories of time at Haydens listening to Tim and Jim with them, among other events.  We’re planning a trip to Tucson in the February time frame to catch up.  We miss them.

There was the passing of several icons from my generation in 2016.  Gene Wilder, Prince, Mohamed Ali, and George Kennedy to name a few.  Seems like every time we turned around another one bit the dust.

Pickles spent the night in the ER ( that was more expensive than my trip to the ER ) with a really bad infection but is better now.  We were really worried about her but she made it.

So in the spirit of Dave Aldrich, this years missive just tells it like it is.  And it is what it is.

Merry Christmas!

( And bring on 2017, please ).

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dave Aldrich

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I first met Dave as a member of the choir at St. Mary’s catholic church in Marysville, Wa.  We both played guitar.  At times there were 6 guitars.  The church back then supported 2 Sunday masses.  The early 10 am mass was the more hip mass with more progressive music and while the 11:30 was for more traditionalist catholics who weren’t as keen on the hip music element of a mass.  Either that or they just didn’t like getting up that early.

We played a ton of music from the St. Louis Jesuits, who we found out later at a Saturday seminar that they weren’t from St. Louis, and they also were not Jesuits.  Didn’t bother us, the music was pretty hip.

The ‘choir’ consisted of guitars ( up to 6 ), upright bass, piano, and occasionally a flute + several vocalists, mostly women.  All good singers and fun personalities.  The piano players were top-notch sight readers and all we had to do as guitar players was strum some chords and belt out the tunes.

In typical fashion of me at that age, I underestimated Dave from the beginning.  He seemed like a nice guy, an ‘okay’ guitar player and sang good enough.  Better than myself which wasn’t saying much.  But as time went on and we changed leadership, Dave became the leader of the choir and it dawned on me that he was not only a solid guitar player, he was a terrific singer and leader as well.  He could pull off performances where he was the lead singer and player, and he sounded great.  So much for first impressions.  I was way off.  Before I knew it, I came to respect his playing and singing as he was doing things I wasn’t capable of.

Dave had a falling out with the priest at St. Mary’s in the late 1980’s, left, and never returned.  If I recall correctly, it mostly had to do with an overblown ego by the head priest and it rubbed him the wrong way.  So much so, that he checked out for good.

The 10:00 am choir was a fun very group of good-natured people.  Our annual ‘reward’ for rehearsing 52 weeks a year and showing up on Sundays was an annual dinner out at a nice restaurant, which we looked forward to with glee every year.  I just remember laughing an awful lot and enjoying the company at the annual dinner out, usually up in La Conner, Wa.

Dave was an outspoken critic on local issues including things like the Navy building a port in Everett, Wa.  His prose was frequently in the paper and he never pulled any punches.  He wasn’t afraid to call out local officials who had their own interests in mind over what he called ‘the rest of us’.  It’s perhaps an understatement to say that he had ‘a reputation’ that followed him around as left-wing Democrat with socialist tendencies.

In about 1997 his wife Toni, after having gone back to school to get her teaching degree, we held a party at our house in Mukilteo, Washington which included past and present choir members from St. Mary’s.  I remember writing a song for Toni who had just graduated but had not been hired yet which had the line in it “She’d probably have a job by now, if her last name, weren’t Aldrich.”  This of course endeared me to the Aldrich family as she knew exactly what I meant.

Since I had known Dave, and played with him for about 7 years or so, I kept in contact with him even after he left the choir.  He invited me to his ‘Sunday morning breakfast’ group at a local eatery in Marysville where we’d take on religion and politics and a wide range of subjects.  But mostly religion and politics.  It was this experience that turned the light bulb on for me at just how brilliant this guy is.

Berkeley educated ( in the 60’s no less ), with a degree in History and if I recall correctly, some background in studying the philosophers as well, Dave would articulate his points in convincing fashion at these Sunday morning breakfasts and leave my mind ready to challenge the old school of thought and re-think the basic tenets of the belief system I inherited at birth to formulate my own as an adult.  It was a transformation to say the least.

We talked a lot about why he left the church and come to find out, he had been an agnostic for a long time and was struggling with the church’s teachings but stayed a member mostly for the opportunity to champion social justice issues as well as reaping the benefits of being part of a church ‘community’.  I think it was the loss of the church ‘community’ the hurt the most for him.  The teachings he was struggling with anyway.

It was through this experience that I came to realize there are 2 types of catholics.  Those that are drawn to the social justice possibilities, and those that are comfortable with the repetition and look the other way at the church dogma that does not align with their political beliefs in the slightest.   I’ve written about this in previous posts .   In the 1990’s I used to participate in the local discussion through the Tualatin Times and this Soapbox comes to mind as one that was heavily influenced by Dave.  In fact, he may even find that a few lines in it were lifted from articles in his blog snohomishobserver.com .  I couldn’t resist.  He was just too brilliant.

Life has its changes and one of mine was moving back to Oregon in 1992.  I left a pretty secure job at Boeing to take on a new challenge in Portland, Oregon where I grew up so that both myself and my wife could be closer to family as well as the fact that we both liked the geographic location of Portland better than Seattle.

As a subscriber to articles published via snohomishobserver.com, I devoured every post with constant amazement at just how brilliant this man is.  I envied him to be so highly educated, so principled as to sacrifice material benefit for doing what’s right in his mind.  So passionate about social justice that he frequently excoriated foes publicly for their greed, selfishness, and stupidity.  I often thought of him as one of my main mentors.  The first person to really make me think.  How can you put a price tag on that?  You cannot.

This week I was shocked to get an e-mail from Dave’s wife Toni that he has stage 4 liver cancer and has about 3-6 months to live.  I was at a meeting over in an adjacent building near my usual office at 200 Market, downtown Portland when I felt my phone vibrate that a new message had come in.  The meeting was over so I decided to check it out on my way back to 200 Market.  In it, Toni revealed Dave’s health issues and prognosis.  I read enough to know this was one of those personally devastating letters you get in your life and between buildings let out a brief sob.   I couldn’t wrap my head around this loss and I still cannot.

A while ago I realized that each person encounters a few people in their lives who have a huge impact.  Top 5 I call it.  My father was one for me.  My wife Donna is another.  There are a few others I won’t mention who opened my eyes and gave me ‘aha’ moments that I am eternally grateful for.  They’ve had high impact.  Dave Aldrich was a high impact player for this smart guy wanna-be.  Reading his snohomishobserver.com posts I was repeatedly humbled at what a brilliant writer really is.  I am privileged to have known Dave Aldrich and his family.  He’s an incredible human being and I will never forget him or the causes he championed.  He’s shaped my thinking in ways I never would have imagined.

I think the best way to honor all the work Dave has put into his social justice causes is to grab a sign, get out there and start marching.  Question authority.  Be a champion for the poor.  Write about the hypocrisy that comes with individuals being born on 3rd base and complaining about the poor ‘mooching off me’.   The next 4 years will certainly provide some opportunity here.  Count me in, all the while remembering the incredible contribution of one David Aldrich.

 

 

 

 

 

Focus

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One of our jobs as parents is to expose our kids to a wide variety of experiences so that hopefully they find something that floats their boat and can run with it later on in life.  My parents did a good job in this area.  Maybe too good.  With the notion of having a well-rounded child, I was exposed to football, basketball, baseball, golf, music, cross-country, ping-pong, woodworking, writing, computing, ham radio, and of course, being a Ducks fan.

I enjoyed them all immensely — which can be a problem.

What happens when you enjoy too many things?  You can find yourself in the situation where you desperately want to become expert level at something and then realize you’re not and probably never will be.

I’m mediocre at best at a lot of things.  Simply not enough hours in the day. I find that even truer in my 6th decade as I try to keep up with technology.  The list of languages and technologies I need to keep up with is long.  I would love to an expert at all of the scripting languages like Python, Ruby, PHP, and Perl6 now that it’s been released, but I basically have to work 2 jobs to get there.  My day job affords very little time to study and play without interruptions.  Oh, and I need to learn Java, Javascript, Groovy, HTML5, Ansible, Docker, and Gradle.  Some of these I need in my tool-bag as of last week.  I left off Objective C, Scala, and becoming more seasoned at vimscript because I just don’t see how there’s any way I’ll ever get to these things, much as I’d like to.

One of the a-ha moments came as I looked over my bookshelf and realized I have about 40 books where I haven’t read past the first chapter.  It’s nice to have the reference, but sadly, just owning the book doesn’t mean you know the subject.  Similar story with music that I’ve purchased.  Tons of books where I’ve had good intentions of expanding my playing in either guitar or piano,  but it’s all been a mirage that there’s free time available to do these things.

Looking back, there have been a few times when I’ve really — I mean really focused in on a goal and done myself proud.  I can think of a few things I’ve built that turned out pretty good.  The summer of 1990 I had a singular goal in mind — run the Portland Marathon and I stuck to it and finished in 3:44.  Not bad for a guy who has never been mentioned in the same sentence with the word fast.  It took some pretty good focus to get some songs written and produced.

I think the thing is, if you have my personality type, then you have to really want it or else you’re easily distracted from your goals.   I recall a humorous bit of satire from my childhood – ( I used to be regular reader of M.A.D. magazine ) where they were having fun with the evolution of New Years resolutions.

  • 1973: I’m going to read 10 good books this year
  • 1974: I’m going to read 5 good books this year
  • 1975: I’m going to finish ‘Airport’

Which brings me to thinking about a bucket list.  Great concept this bucket list.  Write down some things you’d like to do before the one’s expiration date comes into play.

Do I have time to write and record an album, invent a music practice app for the iPhone, become a runner again, save enough money for retirement, write a book and travel all the places I want to go?  Seems unlikely.

But hopefully I’ll develop some mojo to attack a few of these items in earnest so that my legacy won’t be that I sat around and watched a bunch of Duck games.

The current thinking is to just go with whatever moves me in the moment and don’t over think it.  Just go with it.  But do SOMETHING!  Okay, I’m over-thinking it now…

The Empty Room

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September 20th we moved our daughter Kelli down to Monmouth, OR. where she is a freshman at Western Oregon University. I was not prepared for this. I got out of bed looking forward to a fairly relaxing day ahead of me. After all, she doesn’t have that much stuff to move, so the grunt work part of it wouldn’t be that bad. Besides, we had lots of hands to pack her things. Mostly we’d be scoping out the campus and enjoying ourselves, checking out her new digs. Later that morning I walked by her room. It was empty.

Her stuff was no longer in there. The bed was made, a few books and cd’s were in the bookcase, but there could be no mistake that this was a room that had been cleaned out. There’s something terribly wrong with this picture because for 18+ years my little girl had a room with us, and now she’s going off to live with other people.

Then the memories started rushing by me faster than I could keep up with them. Something was wrong with my eyes, they were welling up and a lump was developing in my throat. I was consumed by memories of my little girl growing up. I could think of nothing else.

Ages 3-5, Kelli the reader and puzzle whiz kid, putting together those United States puzzles and knowing the name of every state. Age 8, the sweetest little girl alive, walking herself to school with Danny, and falling into an uncovered storm drain on the way. Age 10-12, Kelli the soccer player, playing her heart out on defense. Kelli the piano player, nailing a perfect rendition on “Tender Moments” in a public appearance. Age 14, earning enough money to make a trip to France. Kelli the basketball player, believing in herself enough to tryout for the freshman team, making it, and actually scoring some points. Age 16, Kelli the working kid, landing a job and working nights and weekends, and burning the midnight oil to keep her grades up. Age 18, handling the disappointment of getting her car paid off and totaled in the same week. Lap swimming with me and Sue and giggling every time she passed me.

And now, taping up the boxes of all her things, standing next to those empty drawers, next to her empty desk, next to her empty closet, in that empty room.

My heart sank and my mind raced as I gazed into that room. I knew I couldn’t stand there anymore. It was just too painful. I made my way downstairs to the garage for that was my space. I’d be ok in a minute. But in my mind, the image of that empty room was overwhelming. I knew that just as the room was not as it used to be, my life wouldn’t be either. A transition was being made and I could do nothing to stop it. I leaned my head up against the wall and was completely powerless to stop the tears. I wondered if I’d forgotten to tell her anything she’ll need to know. I wondered if I’d done everything I could to prepare her for this phase of her life. I wondered if she understands that I tried my best. I wondered if she knows how much I love her.

I have no idea how long I stood there wondering these things. The next thing I felt was her arms around me. I held that moment as long as I could and neither one of us said a word. The car was packed and it was time to go. I was ready now. I got my questions answered. And I was not going back up to that empty room.

Job Security?

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I’ve been at this high-tech gig for over 30 years now in various industries; aerospace, printers, compilers, and now health care insurance. You would think that after this long a guy could kick back a little bit and feel secure. Such is not the case.

Something changed right about when I started working in 1980, or perhaps just a bit before in the late 1970’s. Job security went the way of the hoola-hoop.

I remember growing up in the 60’s and early 70’s when people had jobs and kept them for long periods of time, and didn’t feel like they needed to be looking over their shoulders every week. Company loyalty actually existed in both directions. Pensions came with the territory instead of self-directed savings plans. That must have been nice. Work for a goodly spell, then retire comfortably.

Every single job I’ve had felt like there was a layoff just around the corner, and there usually was. Even in management. At one company I was managing a small team and we saw the outsourcing movement coming our way and I prepared myself for the eventuality that I may have to RIF a team member or two. But we never got word of the upcoming RIF. Why? Because managers were targets too! That was a humbling realization.

I’ve been laid off one time, but have had no gaps in employment due to being given 6 months notice of the pending shut-down, so I was able to line up a new employer as the job ended. It seems as though I should get some credit for the equivalent of navigating a 40′ sailboat through Deception Pass or something else really hard.

I’ve tried to explain this to people that are not in high-tech and often get blank stares. Huh? I just go to work every day and don’t worry about it too much. Oh, to be you.

If memory serves, it started with the hyperinflation economy circa the Carter Administration, but got even worse afterwards. Reagan laid the hammer down on the air-traffic controllers and showed ’em who’s boss. That was really bad news for unions which also coincides with the initial demise of the middle class.  The experiment with trickle down economics laid on more pressure to the working class and furthered the divid between the rich vs. the poor.

Then came NAFTA. Ross Perot nailed it with his “Giant sucking sound” comment. I don’t know that something like NAFTA wasn’t inevitable. I sort of doubt the United States could have gotten away with being too isolationist for very long. But man, the effects of all of this has really sucked the energy out of me. For 35 years!

Suddenly layoffs aren’t just commonplace, but expected. Constantly. Look out because the Vice Presidents are under tremendous pressure to show cost savings and productivity improvements. If your job is classified as ‘overhead’, all the worse for you. It was always best to be tied directly to some project work. Unless of course, your project were to be canceled. If you switch jobs, be prepared to start all over and prove yourself no matter how senior your job title says you are. You are replaceable, don’t kid yourself.

How many hours have I wasted worrying about being considered redundant and all the comes with it. Having to break the news to the family. Possibly losing a house and getting in a bad credit situation. Having to take a lesser job to keep putting food in the mouths of 5 people.  Having to go back to school and learn a completely new skill.  A LOT of sleepless nights.

In the 1990’s, outsourcing became the buzzword that showed up on a lot of VP’s powerpoint slides. They couldn’t just come in and propose 5% cost cutting. They were under pressure to come up with a ‘game changing’ idea. Outsourcing tech labor to India or the Far East was the trendy thing to do. Initially the numbers were hard to deny. Labor in India was about 20% of the U.S. rate. It’s since risen to closer to 50% as the global playing field levels a bit, but that’s still a big number. To make matters worse, you could expect to be asked to start looking for a new job while training your replacement. I did for a while. Then one day I just let them know that I was no longer interested in training my replacement. That turned some heads but I got away with it. Not sure how I did, but I just couldn’t train that guy for one more minute.

Meanwhile, in the good old U.S. we have extremists promoting ‘pure capitalism’ as if the human race would be best governed by the laws of Natural Selection. Every man for himself. Dog eat dog. Whatever it takes just so long as nobody’s gonna be mooching off me. The odd thing is, even during the halcyon days of the 1950’s that the pundits like to harken back on as the peak of our exceptionalism, we’ve never been a pure capitalist nation. Taxes were more than double what they are now for the top earners. Our economic policies have always been a combination of capitalism and socialism, just a matter of degree.

I wonder what it would be like to work at a job where the pace was normal and the expectations weren’t unrealistic? Every company I’ve worked for feels like someone’s hair is on fire and the schedule pressures you feel are very real. It’s hard to maintain a healthy lifestyle when you feel the need to work 60 hours a week, often through lunch, and forego your exercise routine in order to help the team meet a specific deadline. God knows you don’t want to be the one called out for holding things up in a status meeting. Anything but that.

There may be hope for future generations. The playing field has leveled quite a bit. Many companies have gone to the school of hard knocks with the outsourcing plans and many have reverted back for a variety of reasons. Some underestimated how difficult it would be to deal with the timezone differences. Others forgot to pencil in additional capital for the bandwidth required to do distributed development. In some cases it’s been the language barrier was too much to bear. 50% is a big number, but there’s a well documented downside now and more outsourcing proposals are getting met with “not-so-fast”.

I’d like to come in at 8:30 every day, always take an hour long lunch and visit with people in mostly non-work conversation, do some interesting work and then go home around 5-ish and leave my troubles behind. And not have to worry about scenarios that might wind a guy up on someone’s RIF list. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll get to experience this in my lifetime.

If you have an everyday job and don’t lay awake at night worrying about job loss frequently, then give some thanks. Well played, I envy you.

Downward Spiral

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A recent trip on public transportation around Portland was an eye-opener.  We’re a 2 car household so I normally drive myself around on the weekend but I have this medical issue where I get extreme anxiety driving on freeways.  I had planned to go visit my father’s crypt on his birthday, but I wasn’t feeling up to freeway driving that morning so I decided to take public transportation.  Rose City Cemetery is on the other side of town and public transportation would be a challenge for sure, but I was in no hurry — it was the weekend.

I’m not a total stranger to public transportation.  I’m a monthly bus pass owner since taking a job downtown about 7 months ago.  Donna and I usually drive in together but our schedules don’t always match up for the return trip, so I’m ready to ( what we joking call ) “Do the Portland” on any given day.

It hit me on the bus ride that there’s a huge difference between weekday riders and weekend riders.  During the week you share the bus with mostly other people on their way to work downtown.  Some are dressed up pretty well.  Most are engaged with an electronic device of some kind.  Almost everyone appears either gainfully employed or on their way to school.

On the weekends, it’s a completely different demographic.  When it was all said and done, I think the best way to describe it might be to liken it to a moving homeless shelter.  After thinking about it some, it made more sense.  Unlike the week-days, very few are going to work.  Many are taking Tri-Met because they either don’t have a car, can’t afford one, or are not permitted to drive because of a DUI or perhaps too elderly.  Many of the elderly were accompanied by shopping carts and in some cases, wheelchairs.  The poverty level is extremely high and the level of dysfunction was extreme.

The effect this had on my was two-fold.  First, I came to a new level of appreciation for Tri-Met drivers.  They have to deal with the general public at its worst every day, and the risk/reward ratio must be pretty high.  I was also saddened by the extreme levels of poverty that exist in Portland, right under our noses, and my mind was racing about things like root cause, short-term and long-term fixes.  There was some really bad behavior on the buses and trains, but I wasn’t so much annoyed about that as I was feeling empathy for the unfortunate souls at the bottom of the social rung, and wondering what it must be like to be one of them.

I’ve written about this before, about how lucky we are in the ‘burbs to be mostly isolated from the ills of society.  It’s nice out here and comfortable, and easy to forget that we’re all just a couple of bad breaks away from being that guy on the bus with a few teeth missing, bad hi-gene, living hand to mouth.  Lose a job, lose a spouse, get behind on your mortgage…. it wouldn’t take long at all.

Since I was on a trip to visit my deceased father at the cemetery, perhaps I was a bit more “in my head” as my wife likes to say, but it occurred to me more than once that while I may not have been born on 3rd base, it was at least 1st or 2nd compared to these poor souls.  Thank-you, Mom and Dad for your personal sacrifices.

The saddest example of my little journey was on the ride home.  I hopped on the #12 bus from 57th and Sandy and began what I knew would be a pretty lengthy trip through downtown.  A few stops later, a family of 5 got on with 2 strollers and 2 extra rolling carts with toys like skate-boards in them.  The children were approximately 10, 3, and 3 months.  The infant was asleep in the stroller ( I can’t imagine what the ride would have been like had the infant also been needy ).

The first indication of dysfunction came when the 3 year old boy went running down the aisle to the back of the bus with his mother calling out to him to “come back here!”, which he ignored for a minute or two before showing up.  From that point on, the parents took turns wrestling him to a sitting position to keep him from escaping again.  In between squirms, he’d let out some awful yells.

The next clue was the 10 year old, complete with rolling basket with skateboard in it, came and sat right next to me.  I could tell something was wrong right away because he was pumping his arms by his side constantly and looking at the floor.  Every minute or so he’d let out a yell, sometimes a profanity sometimes not, and he was good at ignoring his mother’s instructions to behave.  He seemed pretty wound up.  After a few minutes I reckoned he might have Tourette’s syndrome, but it seemed even more complex than that.  I considered moving, but decided to avoid causing a scene as it was already an uncomfortable side-show and I didn’t want to make it worse.  I gave it as little attention as I could but I was mentally taking notes.

The father seemed ( not surprisingly ) aloof.  He had no clue how to improve his family’s situation on the bus and was mostly numb to his surroundings.  The mother however, was at her wit’s end.  I felt so sorry for her to be trapped like this.  She’d had 3 children with this guy, and from what I could tell, the oldest has an extreme disability, the middle child is likely ADHD, and she has a partner who is no help at all + a new infant to take care of.

I do not know how people get themselves into this situation and it doesn’t really matter at this point.  Could be as simple as bad choices, but I also think that people are just victims of the environment they were brought up in to a certain extent.  Yes, in the ‘Land of Opportunity’ you can always bootstrap yourself up and many do.  But there are those that simply do not posses the IQ or have resources to get themselves out of the hole they are in.

As I got closer to my destination, the bus driver had made a couple of polite pleas to the family to keep the noise level down, The mother, embarrassed beyond words and frustrated that the father was no help, finally reached the end of her patience and yelled at him to do something about the 10 year old who was acting out.  His final shrug led her to make a pre-mature exit from the bus with the infant and stroller, and left him there with the 3 and 10 year olds.  After more yelling from outside the bus, the father and remaining children collected their belongings and got off the bus as well.  We pressed on down the road and the dysfunction continued in the rear view mirror.

I do not see any scenario that has a happy ending for this poor mother or her family.  She is trapped in a downward spiral that will get worse before it gets better.  I see zero chance at a happy life and worse, I don’t see a solution for her.

This is the kind of experience that puts me even more in my head and determined to not get too comfortable in the ‘burbs.  Help is needed out there.  I don’t know what form it will take yet, but for sure help is needed.

Unconditional Mom

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My parents have both passed away and I think about them often.  It’s interesting to think back about how the relationships change.  I think in some ways this mirrors how we grow as individuals over time.   In the case of my Mom, there was significant change for both of us.  Towards the end I think Mom and I had a harder time relating to one another since we were practically polar opposites on the political spectrum.  I remember returning home to Oregon from Arizona a few times thinking to myself “who is this person?”  It didn’t diminish how I felt about her at all.  And here’s the reason why.  Perhaps you too can relate.

When I was a kid, I’d have my usual bad days like everyone.  Could have been that I did poorly in a class, was having trouble with a friend, or perhaps a family member was not happy with something I had done.  Doesn’t matter what it was, the point is, you’re a kid and you think the situation is hopeless.  You feel totally defeated because nothing is going your way.  Your hopes and dreams seem completely shot.  What do I have?  Who is on my side?  Who loves me?  There are those moments.  I think we all had them.

The thing I remember most about Mom is that when I was down at my lowest point, she was the one there with a hug and words of encouragement every single time.  Everyone else could be all negative or indifferent about what I was going through, but she was not.  She was my last, and sometimes it felt like my only, line of support that affirmed I had some self-worth and whatever it was would be over soon. No matter what I did, she didn’t seem to care in that moment.  She was wise in the sense that knowing a heart-felt connection of love was not condoning whatever mess I was in.  It was simply, unconditional love and let me tell you, that’s a very powerful thing.  If you have children, they need that sometimes.  I don’t know how my life would have turned out differently had I not had that.  All I know is that I’m glad I did and I hope every kid gets the same benefit.  And that no matter how different Mom and I were in the end, it doesn’t matter.  This is how I choose to remember my Mom.

On Being a Father

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Few things compare to fatherhood. There’s the idea that knowing your own bloodline is taking on a life of its own. There’s the feeling of responsibility to make sure they ‘turn out right’ lest I have some adult dependents later in life. There’s the excitement of watching them do well in their fields of interest, and the pain of watching them try and fail at things they thought they wanted to do. And there’s the feeling of relief when the project is all finished and you know you did your best and that it’s been pretty damn good, thank you very much.

My daughter Kelli was born when I was 20. Dan at 22. For quite a while we figured that a family size of 4 with a boy and a girl was perfect. Why mess with it? Then about 6 years later Rob came along and we couldn’t imagine life without him in the mix too. Three little personalities to observe and enjoy, each one with its own set of joys and challenges as far as fatherhood is concerned.

In most family structures, the father gets the dubious duty of being the bad cop. It’s not a fun role, really, let me just say. The tricky part is resisting the temptation to project .. to let ‘typical kid behavior’ cause us to project worse behaviors in adulthood. I struggled with this some, I have to admit. My tendency was to err on the side of keeping things in line, but it probably would have been more wise to roll my eyes at some things and hope they pass. Hard to say now. Hindsight.

I do believe that being diligent over behavioral issues in the early years pays huge dividends. You probably get to have your biggest impact before about age 12. After that, their friends are having more influence on their decisions than anything I say. If I haven’t taught them what they needed to know by now, it might actually be too late.

One of the most enjoyable aspects of being a father is watching your kids excel at something. My daughter Kelli was pretty good at most things she tried. Learned piano quickly and gave some incredibly memorable performances. Could be a tenacious soccer player, especially on defense. I coached her team a couple of years and she made some outstanding defensive plays that saved the game. Seemed to go on auto-pilot at school. Just always seemed to bring home the grades with little or no involvement on my part. Now she’s a teacher with 10 years experience and I have 2 grandkids. Wow. Someone pinch me.

Dan was pretty athletic from the get-go. Baseball was his thing from about age 7-14 or so. I remember my eyes lighting up when he was 9 and threw me about 10 strikes in a row with pretty good velocity. Could I possibly have a pitcher on my hands? Yep. He got some good opportunities to shine in Little League and JBA as a teen and was a joy to watch. He had this uncanny ability that, in any situation on the mound, it seemed like when he needed a strike, he could deliver one. I don’t know who was more excited about that fact, him or me. It was fun to write the article for the Tualatin Times that said “Toner faced 12 batters and struck out 11”. He was no slouch in soccer, basketball, or cross-country either.

Rob excelled in chess early on, and he was always kind of a natural at soccer. I think he finished 2nd in State in a chess tournament as a 5th grader. I tried playing him in about the 3rd grade and consistently lost. You wouldn’t think chess was a particularly exciting event to watch unless you’re the parent of someone competing. Let me tell you, it was pretty exciting! In soccer he’d make guys twice his size go flying in one-on-one confrontations with the ball. It was hilarious to watch. He could get it done with good moves and had great passing ability. But the event I remember the most was when he was 9 in ‘AA’ baseball. You know the team picture with the smallest kid in the front row with his knees crossed? That was Rob. That’s why as his coach, twice that year when I was coaching 3rd I was ecstatic that I got to wave him around 3rd for an inside the park home run. My arm was moving! He had pounded the ball in-between right and center, making the outfielders chase. That’s what’s truly awesome about being a dad.

I hope all my kids get to experience parenthood. Kelli and her husband Kyle seem to have to formula down pat and best of all, they are on the same page. My sons are both working on it and that’s fine. Take your time and do it right. The rewards are in the final result when you get to watch these self-sufficient individuals pursue their own careers and families.

Like their parents, they aren’t perfect. But it’s what I call ‘close enough’ to say no regrets what-so-ever. For Father’s Day, next weekend we are all going to run a 5K together in Tigard. What’s significant about it is that in the past 7 months I’ve had 2 strokes. One in Dec. and another one in Jan. This is my ‘comeback’ run. To me it’s kind of a big deal. I wasn’t healthy and now I’m striving to be. I’ve been training since April using the C25K program and it hasn’t been easy. I’ve had to work pretty hard to get ready, but I’m a week away and looking forward to running with my kids. They can all blow by Dad on the course and make me look silly now that I’m 54 and had some health issues. But little do they know, that’s what I wanted! Why? Because I enjoy watching them all do well, perhaps more than they know.

On this Father’s day, I figured I’d just reflect on these things a bit and enjoy the moment.

Walking your dog in 2014

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It’s so nice to see my neighbor taking his dog for a walk on a nice sunny day until…. you realize this idiot appears to be talking to himself, spouting off into his phone. I can hear every word from a block away. Dude, I do not want to hear your conversation. Okay???

Facebook rants

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Ugh. I’m a troller. I guess that’s the first step of recovery, right? Admit what ails you and move on. I’ve gotten better over the past year at not wasting so much time engaging in debates with people who either don’t listen or don’t fight fair, but I’ve got a ways to go. This past week, I came across an image that sums it up pretty well. BouonGKCIAAjl5V.jpg-large

I have to admit, I do get some enjoyment of debating the far right, exposing some of the lunacy that I see and watching the opposition back-pedal. I’ve engaged some rather famous people on Twitter ( Grover Norquist and Greg Guttfeld are two that come to mind ), and gotten direct responses in the form of text messages. I pushed the conservative button and they didn’t like it. Mission accomplished.

So exposing hypocrisy is a favorite past-time of mine. To a point. I’ve recently decided that it’s the responsibility of the Facebook page moderator to referee a fair fight, and to keep debates from digressing into personal attacks. I had to do this myself recently. A good friend I have on Facebook, Duane, whom I disagree with strongly on most issues, was misunderstood on a post that intended sarcasm, and he was exposed to a personal attack by another Facebook friend, a raging alcoholic, who attacked Duane when he didn’t know what he was talking about. I ‘unfriended’ him immediately and apologized to Duane for the behavior of this other guy. I didn’t think twice about it. Good riddance, Tom. It was embarrassing and there’s no place for it.

I had this one Facebook friend, Mark, who is perhaps the most passionate debater I’ve ever run across. Mark and I go back to high school and even though we didn’t hang out much together during those years, I think we both got some enjoyment out of sparring online. Mark’s a Tea Partier, thus limited in his weaponry of material to make a logical argument that can’t be refuted by pointing out the irony and hypocrisy of his assertions. He was an easy fish to fry as they say. He probably felt the same way about me as well. He probably thought he was roasting a liberal every time we sparred online.

But last week Mark failed miserably at moderating his page and I checked out. Some of his other friends are also raging Tea Party loons who engage in personal attacks. I’m not a big fan of that. In the past I’ve just ignored their comments, but this time I was baited into joining the debate, and then attacked by some raging idiot who doesn’t know up from down, and Mark did nothing. I’m out.

So it’s not that I don’t care for Mark, I do. He’s a good guy at heart. Terribly misguided by the partisan ‘News’ channels he watches, but none-the-less, if you needed someone to step in and do what’s right in a confrontation, Mark would be your guy. A sports fanatic with a pretty decent resume as a player himself, he’s a veritable encyclopedia of information about college football and sports in general.

It’s with some sadness that I had to disengage from the online sparring with Mark. It wasn’t as much about him as it was his inability to referee a fair, above the belt fight. I’m sure not everyone agrees with me on this, but just the same, this is my new policy. Control your ‘friends’ or else I’m out.

But such is the nature of the state of politics in the USA today. It’s horribly partisan and not very constructive. The Tea Party in particular seems like they don’t stand for anything in particular other than, “We want whatever is the opposite of what Obama wants.” I doubt that is going to sell very well in the mid-terms or the next election cycle. I’m thankful that it appears the Tea Party has been exposed for the extreme organization of hypocritical loons that it is and has no chance in the next election cycle. Republicans, moderates, may still win the day, but the party won’t be dominated by the Ted Cruz / Sarah Palin / Duck Dynasty crowd anymore, because enough time has passed that the general population doesn’t want any part of it. Thank God for that.

And speaking of God, isn’t it ironic that the flag waving fundamentalists are the ones calling you “Fucking commies, fucking socialists, fucking Nazis” on one post, and then posting about their personal relationship with God a few minutes later. I find that amusing more than anything.

In the mean time, I’ll continue to follow the words of Krugman and Reich. Sure they may have a liberal bias, but they also have PhD’s. Which is more than I can say for the Get right with God Duck Dynasty / Climate change deniers / NRA fanatic crowd. Does being right count for anything?

Have a good weekend.