Rite of Passage

Well, today is a milestone in my daughter's life. For everyone's safety, I feel compelled to let the world know, we are going to get her driver's permit. This is somewhat a rite of passage. We all experience this sometime in our life, whether it be puberty, coming of age, marriage, and eventually death. It's a big step toward adult responsibility. Unfortunately, most people allow their personality to come through in their driving skills. Mild mannered people tend to be cautious and courteous drivers, never really experiencing road rage. High strung folks join the NASCAR circuit. My daughter has this certain 'spunk' about her, that, if left unchecked at the wheel, could increase insurance rates. So I need to instill in her some self control while driving. A subdued attitude will prevent a lot of 'customization' to a vehicle. It would be nice if her newly taught refinement would carry over to everyday life. No more arguing with parents (hers or anyone else's), no more arguing with siblings (hers or anyone else's), doing things without the constant reminders or threats, continue to push herself in school, and basically just rise above all the plagues of a teenage drama queen. I would hold my breath, but I know these changes are not coming within the next 45 seconds. I heard it described one time, about this particular age of a girl. They're too young for boys, and too old for toys. But age is progressive, and eventually the time will come when she faces responsibility as a young adult. I believe we're on the threshold, and as a parent, I just need to make sure she pays attention to what's in front of her, and doesn't get distracted by what's passing her by on the left or the right. This will also serve her well behind the wheel.

Saying, Quip, Idiom, or Locution

However you want to put it, we all have sayings that we've heard throughout out life that just seem to make sense and stick with us. I happen to use quite a few, just to make my conversations more lively and colorful. A few day ago, I mentioned Yogi Berra and his 'eloquent' quips that made no sense, but made perfect sense. I've picked up things over the years from my grandparents, friends, family, people I've worked with, acquaintences, friends of friends, TV personalities, books and magazines, wherever people might be when they utter something. The trick is to remember them when the perfect opportunity arises. Timing is everything, but you may want to consider your audience. In a business setting, it's wise to keep anything marginally correct to yourself. But something with insight that may happen to create a good impression is apropos. If you happen to be in a little different company, say, among friends, having a toddy, you can get away with funny/borderline politically incorrect quips. Among family members, you may have sayings or key words, when heard in public, or uttered in confidence, can't help but bring a smile to your face. Reminds me of the saying, "Grin, it makes people wonder what you're up to". I could sit here for hours listing all the funny zingers I have in my arsenal, but they're more effective used sparingly. I'll try to make a conscious effort to sneak in a couple from time to time. in the meantime, be good. If you can't be good, behave.

Getting the Band Back Together

I have a few friends who happen to be amateur musicians. They occasionally get together to jam from time to time. Most are guitar players. A couple of them happen to be pretty decent guitar players. Well, last weekend, they invited me to come sit in on their jam session. Keep in mind, I'm not musically inclined whatsoever. I love music and concerts, but if I attempted an instrument, it would probably be the most hideous noise you've ever heard. Dogs would howl, windows would shatter, folks within earshot would have to have their inner ear canal repaired. So I just stick with the radio, and I don't even play that very well. But I thoroughly enjoyed last weekend. In fact, one friend wanted to include me in on the action. He armed me with a bass guitar. I thought maybe I was to swing it at any crazed fans who try to rush the stage. I was mistaken. They were going to practice a blues song (Muddy Waters maybe?), and he wanted me to play bass. Now, I'm not completely ignorant. I do know the word 'bass' when referring to music, has a long A sound, rather than the short A in reference to the fish. So all I had to do was strum the top string, only the top string, four times. Then, with rhythmic precision, hold down that string on a fret bar for four more strums, then repeat. I must admit, I was quite nervous for my debut show in front of all those .... well, nobody. But I pulled it off, or at least they led me to believe I pulled it off. I wasn't included in on anymore songs, because the bass guitar parts were much more complicated. Nirvana and Led Zepplin require a tad bit more talent than I can offer. But, my friends named me manager! I guess that's a nice way of telling me they still consider me a friend, but musically, I suck. It's just like when you're getting ready to play a pickup baseball game when you were a kid. There's always one extra kid to make the teams uneven, so the worst kid that gets picked last, he's the manager. That's my role:) So I've informed my friends, this summer, happy hour at my house will return, and they are more than welcome to set up on my deck, and have an outdoor jam session to kick off their summer tour. FYI, they're not an official band, and don't necessarily plan on becoming anything more than what they do now. So, NO, they're not for hire. Sorry. But if anyone out there is looking for a one string, two note, bass guitar player, I may know someone;)

Short Changed

I'm not a big fan of the month of February. For more than one reason, but mainly because we're short changed a couple of days. Then add some bitter cold and snow, that's just insult to injury. But if you think about it, all of your bills usually come due the same time every month, except February. If you normally pay your electric bill on the 30th of every month, you have two less days to get the money together to keep the lights on. NOT FAIR! Plus, the money leaves your account two days early, which denies you of added interest you could be making, which, in my case, adds up to hundredths of a cent, but it's still mine. I've been around awhile, and I know for a fact there's a couple of months out there with 31 days, that could possibly spare a day, and share the love with February. Then there's leap year. OOOH, one extra day in February. I don't know if this is designed to help us think we're getting something for free? HELLO! We're still deficient one day! I don't know how February feels about this situation, but I would be irate. Always having to be in the shadows of the other months, and not getting its fair recognition. This is really a travesty. I think somebody should stand up in February's behalf, and cry for equal treatment. And that hundredth of a cent I'm being robbed of every year, I would hate to see the compound interest I'm losing. In my lifetime, that could add up to a few extra pennies in my ash tray.

Humble Pie

There's three ways to eat humble pie. I'm sure no one relishes the fact that they're in the wrong. Just the opposite - we may have the tendency to rub it in when we're right. Nothing stinks more than the moment you realize you're in the wrong. So at that moment, a decision has to be made. How am I going to take my medicine? Probably the best solution is to just take full responsibility, admit you're 100% in the wrong, apologize if needed, put your tail between your legs, and move on. This is probably the hardest thing to do, but yet, the most effective. Or, you could admit partial wrongdoing, downplaying the erroneous side, and insisting you were not completely wrong. And maybe this is the case. This type of response may, or may not be followed by an apology. If an apology is offered, it may be conditional. "I'm sorry, but...". Finally, there is just flat out denial. This is more like being force fed, rather than actually eating humble pie. There's nothing quite as irritating as pointing out a mistake, and have someone deny responsibility when the facts reveal otherwise. If you happen to be the one standing amid all the evidence, with the evidence all over your face and hands, and blatantly refuse to take the blame, then be prepared for a heated argument. What's really embarrassing, if you've been doing something for years, maybe even your whole life, and then find out that you've been in the wrong, that's a hard pill to swallow! Another difficult situation may be to admit fault even when you ARE right, just to preserve peace. Eventually, you may be justified at a later date, perhaps when other facts are revealed. But in the meantime, you just have to bite your tongue. When the falsehood is finally exposed, don't forget to say, "I told you so"! I personally have found, humility is not a bad thing, or a sign of weakness. It takes broader shoulders to ...... uh, 'shoulder' responsibility for your errors. In the long run, you will maintain peace among your family and friends, and be able to go to bed at night with a good conscience. I must say though, it's still fun to be right and rub their noses in it:)

Extra Parts

I remember growing up, and hanging out in my Grandfather's garage, and being amazed at his ability to take an automobile apart, put it back together, and it ran like a top (most of the time). But there were always extra parts left over, especially nuts and bolts. I used to think, "Don't those have to go back into the vehicle, since they came out of the vehicle"? That really puzzled me that the auto manufacturer would just throw in a few extra, just in case we happened to lose one in the process of changing our starter. Lately, I've come to think the human body is a lot like Grandpa's old Ford. I've recently talked to a friend, whose wife just had her appendix taken out. The doctor mentioned we really don't know what the appendix accomplishes, maybe some type of filter. Then yesterday, after meeting with a client, their daughter was going in to have her tonsils removed. We can function fine without them, and their not sure why we even have them. Last night, we were discussing the time when my oldest daughter will have to have her wisdom teeth pulled. Doctors and dentists agree, they cause more harm than good, so they should be removed. So why are we born with all these extra parts? Surely they have to have a function? Grandpa used to keep all his extras, just in case somebody needed a nut, a bolt, a wire, whatever ailed your car. He WAS the Dr. Frankenstein of the auto world. Just imagine the extra parts he would have had on hand if he were a surgeon!

Goin' For Gold

I don't know why, but I sure do get sucked into watching the Olympics. I know I'm from the United States, but I find myself cheering on great athletic performances, rather than the country the athletes represent. I was watching downhill skiing last night, and the difference in time between the first place finisher and the third place finisher was nine hundredths of a second. That is about two blinks of an eye. The second place finisher was literally one blink away, four hundredths of a second. We've all seen photo finishes in all types of sports, but to grasp the ability it takes to even finish the course, let alone come within the blink of an eye to win it all, is quite amazing. These athletes are well tuned machines, and the difference between first and second place, could have been the placement of their ski in a certain turn, or possibly the angle of their crouch on a downhill straightaway, and maybe breathing in when they should have exhaled, who knows. It's quite impressive what the human body is capable of. Of course, it takes years of training the muscles, the breathing, and the mind to accomplish such feats. I also caught some snowboarding competition. Snowboarders are a different breed. Most athletes are concerned about wind resistance, and usually wear clothing that is form fitting to cut the drag from the wind. Not snowboarders! I'm not sure the reasoning, but they appear to be wearing more clothes than when I leave for work in the morning during the month of February. Trust me, I'm not very aerodynamic. It takes a lot of energy to make it throughout my day with the extra clothing. Getting in and out of the truck, trudging through snow on frozen ground, with ruts formed from trucks and heavy equipment, carrying job materials and tools that are not equally balanced, having to maneuver hallways and stair wells, and perhaps carrying them in such a way that twists your torso, that, by the time you're finished, a chiropractic visit may be in the near future. Geez, I made that sound like an Olympic event. Maybe those athletes aren't so special after all. Maybe I could start up a 'special' type of Olympics for those of us who didn't make the team. Wait, that may have already been done.

Takin' Care of Business

Come on, sing it with me! I feel like I've been busier than usual, mainly paper/office work, but not really all that busy in the field. There's definitely some minutes of my day I could be filling. I guess it gives me time to waste, using the Hunt & Peck method of typing, to blog about unimportant issues, that really aren't issues. Trying to figure out why I'm busy at one end and not the other, has me thinking about the BTO song. I'm takin' care of business, but I'm busy doin' nothin' all day. Now, I just need an assistant to help me with my overload of nothin'. We might even put in some overtime.

Walking in Circles

As you're well aware, folks today lead busy lives. We have become a generation of multitaskers. And we've had to, out of necessity. Employers have always been, and now employees, if they want to make themselves valuable to a company, are also called upon to do a little juggling. At times, life gets so chaotic, from over scheduling, from others demands, and top it off with our daily grind, and sometimes we're puzzled as to which leg goes into which pant leg first. When you feel a little overwhelmed, it seems you're walking in circles, and not sure what to do next. Of course, there has been studies, (someone needed a job, and decided to ask for grant money), and the studies reveal all sorts of maladies one may suffer from extended periods of multitasking. So the people most concerned about our health, are telling us to slow down. The rest of the world wants to know if we can add one more task in our spare time. Hmmm, attempt to make 80% of the people happy 50% of the time, or focus, and try to make 50% of the people happy 80% of the time? OK, time to shift gears. Have you ever had such a busy week, by the end of the week your eyes were not even pointing in the same direction? Then finally the weekend, and you have barely anything planned? All of a sudden, there is, what is sometimes referred to as 'me time'? I worked my tail off all week, got things bandaged up, and ready for Monday, but what am I supposed to do for the next 48 hours? If I don't think of something, I'm going to end up walking in circles for the whole weekend. It appears, walking in circles is a pattern I follow for a large amount of my life. I guess I need to be conscious of this, and when the work week is over, at least have the presence of mind to change directions.

Name Dropper

This could also be titled 'Six Degrees of Separation'. We all know someone, who knows someone, who knows someone, who actually is someone. And, of course, we have to share with our friends and family to try to impress them. Ninety nine percent of the time, this usually does little to impress, unless the person making the boast, actually comes through with some tangible evidence. Needless to say, I sometimes get caught up in the fabrication wheel, and am probably spreading a falsehood, or at the very least, a partial truth. I guess if I don't sin, how would I ever be able to ask for forgiveness? Nonetheless, here we go. A painter buddy of mine, who lives just about 8 blocks from me, AND is an extremely reliable source, (never mind the fact that he sucks down paint fumes for a living), filled me in on some information about another neighbor close by. The painter did some work in this person's house (a single fellow), who happens to travel for work, and is on the road for at least three weeks per month. His sister lives there also, and takes care of the domicile while he's away. After making small talk with the sister, he discovers some unknown facts about the homeowner. Apparently, his work hauls him around the country because he happens to be the road manager for the Dave Matthews Band. OMG! (I'm screaming like a teenage girl right now). So , I guess now I'm going to have to start casing the joint, and stalking this individual, just so I can say that I've met the road manager for DMB. Then, after making a fool of myself, and getting the police called on me several times, I will probably find out the facts. He's not really the road manager for DMB, but just a diehard fan who wants to be a roadie someday, and may have inadvertently said, "DMB sure would be a good gig to land". And to think, I came within a few blocks of someone who wants to know someone famous. That's something to brag about!

How To Say It Not Wrong

I heard a saying on TV, (where else) last night that made me think of Yogi Berra. "It's better now, than the best its ever been." Of course, Yogi was the king of quotes that made no sense, yet made perfect sense. I think I'm going to consciously try to make up sayings, depending on whether the circumstance lends itself, and twist things to make people give it a double take. It obviously came naturally to Yogi, considering how many quotes are recorded. I might have to work at it. Sometimes only great comedic minds can conjure up this stuff. So time to get the cerebral calisthenics going, and undo some of the gray matter wrinkles, and rewrinkle them. Be patient. Given enough time, I'll come up with something. Just remember, yesterday was yesterday, today is today, tomorrow won't be here until Wednesday.

Party With Mardi

N'awlins is rocking! There hasn't been this much commotion since that crazy voodoo woman, Katrina, came to town. Unless you're a Louisiana native, or a crazed Saints fan, I would stay away from the state for a couple of weeks, and let those folks get whatever is in their system, out. A Super Bowl win just eight days before Mardi Gras? Is that enough time to clean up New Orleans before they trash it? Is that enough time to let your kidneys heal from the 'bender' most folks are going to do? I am thrilled for the Saints. First time to the Super Bowl, and they win it! Hopefully this will give the city a shot of pride in the arm, that was so brutally squashed out of them in 2006. Definitely a bright spot for at least a short term. I, personally, have never been to New Orleans. I've come close. Whatever interstate runs east and west along the gulf coast, I've driven that, and it skirts to the north of the city, and turns into, I think I29. We didn't stop. I've heard good comments, and then I've heard some pretty disturbing things about New Orleans, the French Quarter in particular. The sensible, responsible side of me wants to stay away and not waste money on a vacation I might regret. The curious side of me wants to see it firsthand, and determine for myself the level of degradation. Besides, there are other destinations higher on the list. And, I'm sure the rumors are true, but that's the case with any big city, whether you have the tourist attraction characteristic, or not. Regardless, 'Who Dat' nation, enjoy your moment in the sun, but remember: no peeing in the street, and don't spill too much beer. You are still below sea level.

Up A Creek

Every once in awhile, you find yourself in a predicament, and not sure how you got there. Sometimes you may pick up on something you notice isn't quite right, change your course, and avert potential disaster. Other times, you walk blindly into the spider web and start doing the dance. Well, as humiliating as this is, I'm plunging into it. I needed to use the bathroom yesterday, for some R&R. There wasn't much time to kill, so I hastily entered, and assumed the position. As I merrily went about business, I knew I would have some time to kill. Being the multitasker that I usually am, I like to kill two birds with one stone. Sometimes I grab a magazine, the mail, or just read the back of the shampoo bottle. This particular trip, I forgot to bring my periodicals, and the bathroom contained no new reading material. So there I sat for a few moments pondering what I should consider to be my next blog entry, when I noticed a potential problem on the horizon. The roll of toilet paper was no longer a roll, but could be measured in sheets, two to be exact. I quickly panned the area for what could possibly double as toilet paper within arms reach. I felt a little like the lion who showed up a couple of hours late after the kill. There was nothing! Then the dread came over me. I thought, who would be so inconsiderate to leave only two sheets of TP, and not grab a second roll, and get him warming up in the bullpen? Then I reasoned, it could be my youngest, because she's too short to reach the cabinet where we keep the rolls. It could be my oldest, because she's a teenager and it's all about her. It could have been my wife in the middle of the night, who probably wanders the house in her sleep before returning to bed. Or, there's a remote chance, it could have been me, but I'm sure the bathroom was used prior to my inhabiting it. Regardless, I'm up the proverbial creek without a paddle. So now the challenge arises. Something has to be done. The cabinet is two steps away, and I have to be completely vertical to reach the much needed product. I'm not thrilled about what is going to soon take place, but it has to be done. Just the thought of the uncomfortable feeling of standing up was filling me full of dread. I thought for a moment, what would MacGuyver do? Oh, stop being a baby, and just do this! Well, after retrieving the TP, time to tidy things up. I was working out the worst case scenario, thinking clean up was going to be twice as much, and this may be a multiple flush incident. How do I go about this and keep clothes and appendages clean? OK, lean to the left 17 degrees, flex certain muscles, stabilize, bend at the elbow, start at the most northern point, and with one, non stop motion, wipe - DON'T LOOK - and drop. Repeat, then change sides. Finished, and I can now join the rest of mankind, and get on with life.

Creme de la Creme

I'm going to rant a little bit about food, but this could apply to several different things. As time and life go by, we will eventually run, smack in the face, with the best of what's around. (I felt a reference to Dave Matthews might be appropriate for this). After moving into our neighborhood almost 16 years ago, a little Italian restaurant, Lo Sole Mio's, opened just 3 blocks from our house. The food was decent and the portions generous. They quickly became Omaha's best Italian restaurant, rising to 'rock star' status overnight. I might add though, there are a few others out there that produce a very respectable meal, but maybe a little different style of Italian than I'm used to. So when I use the word 'best', that's in my estimation only. And in my estimation, they still have the best tiramisu around. About three years ago, I did work in a friend's house and he introduced me to a new Italian restaurant, Bianca, in northwest Omaha. At that moment, Lo Sole Mio's stumbled and fell. The portions weren't nearly as heaping, but that's OK. There's enough fat Italians in the world, why add to the pile? The atmosphere was very modern, yet quaint. One clever move, they projected an old black & white movie on the wall, with Audrey Hepburn, Sabrina maybe? All in all, a very pleasant experience, and then, the best of what's around. Keep in mind though, the best of what's around, might not be the 'best', just the best of what's available at that time. Soon thereafter, we went on a little road trip to KC, with another couple. We were there to see a Dave Matthews show (of course), and they wanted to introduce us to an Italian restaurant. They were a bit apprehensive because they knew I was a total, stuck up, self proclaimed, self important, pompous, Italian food snob. They took us to a place called Lydia's. We were there early because we had the show to catch later. Beautiful restaurant, very welcoming, and quite a bit bigger than the two previously mentioned. Keep in mind though, bigger does not usually translate well when experiencing food. When quantity goes up, quality usually goes on vacation. This food blew the doors off of anything I've ever ran across my taste buds! I've only had the opportunity to go back one other time. We later found out, Lydia Bastianich happens to be the mother of chef Mario Batali's business partner! So at present, Lydia's is the creme de la creme and Dave Matthews is the best jam band around, in my estimation. But how do you know it's the 'best'. There is ALWAYS something better. Keep in mind, if you've actually had the 'best', life from here forward is going to be a major disappointment. So keep your eyes and ears open, and your head on a swivel. Certainly Omaha, and a three hour radius of Omaha, is not the cultural center of the world. I do feel, though, I have discovered the best of what's around.