The All-Star game is a chance to watch the best of the best play (usually) and a time when baseball is not too serious. A time when the players and the fans seem to be having fun.  It is after all a sport meant for entertainment and we all need to remember that.

This year is fun because the game is almost in my backyard.  Anaheim Stadium is a 20 minute drive from my house.  I won’t get the chance to sit in the seats and enjoy the game live, but knowing that it is all happening just down the freeway is exciting. 

 Of course this year the All-Star game will have a bit of sorrow mixed in.  The former owner of the New York Yankees, George Steinbrenner past away last evening.  A man who defined baseball in the modern era.  I was never a fan of George’s but I will admit that he made the Yankees and baseball as a whole a much better sport for all of us.  A baseball boss who was never afraid to get his hands dirty and who made sure that only the best product was on the field. 

So, sit down, grab a cold one and enjoy the summer classic that is the All-Star Game.

It’s Been My Privilege… 

I have the honor and the privilege to be the father and step-father to three beautiful daughters.  They are constant reminders of why I was put on this earth.  Not only are they the loves of my life, they are regular fodder for many things I have written
throughout the years.

A long time ago, I discovered that being a father isn’t an obligation or a right.  It wasn’t something men were supposed to do just because previous generations had.  I found out that it is a privilege, a gift to us and one that shouldn’t be taken lightly, EVER.  

As holidays go, I love that third Sunday in June.  Father’s Day is my time to celebrate the fact that I am a dad.  It was a chance for me to look back at their lives and see what I was given to mold, teach, and raise to the best of my ability.  In return, they have taught me so much, such as patience and how to view the world from their eyes.

My daughters are 22, 18, and 17 respectively.  All have grown up to be beautiful young women that would make any father proud.  All three continue to strive to be the best that they can and really, what father could ask for anything more.

Now don’t get me wrong, these three are not angels.  They have their moments.  I’ve
spent many nights waiting up for the missed curfews.  There have been dramas galore with school, girlfriends, and boyfriends.  I’ve had to mediate arguments between daughters and the other parent or step parent.  However, nothing that couldn’t be resolved with a little love and patience.  

I have a saying that I tell my daughters frequently, “I may not like you at the moment, but I will ALWAYS love you.”  All three know that I will move heaven and earth for them. 

So all you fathers out there, as you await a breakfast of cold cereal or burnt eggs served by your kids, remember you have been given a privilege. 

Happy Father’s Day…

 

Yep, my oldest just graduated from a Southern California school this weekend.  Of course, her mother and I are very proud of the accomplishments she has been able to do while in school.  She and about 1,000 of her closest classmates all walked the aisle to get their diplomas.  A really neat sight to see as they cheered not only themselves but their fellow graduates on Sunday.  The only thing that ran through my head was, ”Damn, all these recent graduates will be my competition for a job, crap! 

She majored in Communications with an emphasis in Public Relations and a minor in Marketing.  She worked at the school paper and was even offered the position of Editor.  She turned it down only because she wasn’t a Journalism major and wanted someone else who was to have the position.  She is currently working at a P.R. firm as an intern and will probably be offered a full time job after the summer.  Thank god, now maybe she could start supporting her dad…Nah, probably won’t happen.

With my oldest out, my middle child starting college in September and my youngest starting her senior year in high school, we should be done with kids in college in about 5 years.  I don’t know what I will do without all that drama that comes with college, the moving, the boyfriends, the stress of finals, etc. 

As I have gotten older, I have begun to realize that we all have some sort of ‘bucket list’ that we keep in our heads.  A list of things we want to do before we kick that proverbial bucket ourselves.  For many its skydiving for the first time, or seeing a part of this world that we haven’t seen before.  However, for some reason, mine was to work a polling place on Election Day.  I know, call me crazy but I love to live on the edge.

It all began when a friend told me a couple of weeks ago that she volunteered to work at a polling place and that they were paying people.  A little cash register bell went off in my head.  Who couldn’t use a little extra money by sitting around and watching people mark a ballot?  It’s something different to do, it gets me out of the house for the day, and I might make some contacts for my next job.  So taking her advice, I got on-line and volunteered with the local voters registrar.  I got a call the next day from someone I can only describe as ‘overly friendly.’  It seemed like I was doing her a huge favor for volunteering.  That should have been my first clue.  Doing this good deed wasn’t going to be the ‘cake walk’ I thought it was.  Our telephone conversation was nice and she  asked if I could attend a training meeting.  Sure, how hard could it be to make sure that someone gets the right ballot to vote with?  I mean, this is like having a government job, right? 

I arrived at the local library that was hosting the training session.  The room was set up to host about 50 people.  There were only six of us.  I was handed a manual as I walked in.  It was thick and had over a 150 pages.  This was not a good sign.  The guy running the training session was, ‘overly friendly’ as well.  We start with the training, and he describes the ‘Eslate’ voting booth.  It’s an electronic voting machine collapsed inside of a suitcase.  Clever idea until you need to put the damn thing together.  The six of us looked like kindergartners trying to play with an Erector Set. 

After the chaos of the voting booth, we move on to different scenarios that can happen while at the polling place.  This is the part were I should have been listening more carefully.  Especially when that gentleman with the cane and serious look wanted some answers on Election Day.  We wrapped up the training and I headed home.  Whatever answers I needed, it would be in the manual.  No problem.

I sat down and read the manual the next day.  Well, I didn’t really read it, more like skimmed through it.  This didn’t seem to be too hard and besides, two of the women who I would be working with have been volunteers before.  It all seemed like a babysitting job for the day.

Flash forward to Tuesday, Election Day.  The alarm goes off at 4:45 in the morning and I had just enough time to shower, grab a coffee, and head to my ‘babysitting job.’  I was assigned to work at a polling station located inside of a retirement village about twenty minutes south of my house.  I meet the three women working with me, all who were at retirement age, and we began our setup.  I started the ‘tinker toy’ building of the electronic voting booths while the ladies ran around and taped up what seemed like a hundred signs inside and out of the polling station.  We were in a rush as the polls needed to be ready by 7:00 for the first voters.  We finished with about 5 minutes to spare and waited to open the polls.  The time arrived and we switched on the electronic voting booths and yelled, “The polls are open. ”  There was no line, no anxious voters outside waiting for us to open.  Nobody at all.

So we sat, and we sat some more.  The ladies and I talked about our families, our pets; they talked about their husbands and their kids and grandkids.  With this much time to kill, you find out way more than you need to about your co-workers.  About an hour after opening, we had our first voter.  It was time to start the fun, or so I thought.  Each of the ladies at their tables checked our first voter in.  Verified who she was and what precinct she would vote in.  Then she was sent down to me so that I could punch her access code up so she could begin to vote.  I handed her the small slip of paper containing four digits to access her voting machine and directed her to one of the voting booths.  With a quizzical look, she proceeded to a booth and stood looking at it.  This should have been an indicator of how my day ways going to be.  “Oh, young man, could you come here and explain how this works?”  This was a phrase I would hear repeated throughout the day.

The Election Day ran in spurts as some voters trickled in and other times there was a line to vote.  When we were busy, I was a bit more stressed.  Getting voters through the process can be daunting, especially when the ballot is 10 pages long.  Most voters were patient and figured out the voting machines.  Some wanted to make changes such as political parties that had me rushing to the manual for answers.  Henceforth my confusion on what colored envelope and how to pull up the right ballot.  Many of them came to vote just so they could have conversation with their neighbors.  A chance to be reacquainted with their friends. 

As we approached the time to close the polls, which is 8:00 in California, everyone started to get antsy.  “Can we pull down the signs at 7:30?”  No, we can’t.  “Can we start packing ballots in the box?”  No, we can’t.  These anxious ladies wanted the evening to end.  I don’t blame them; I was tired, sore, and looking for a glass of wine and a cigar to end my day. 

Finally, the time had come to close the polls.  I have never seen three ladies of retirement age move so fast in all my life.  They had the signs down, ballots counted, boxes packed, they were even coming over to help me disassemble the voting machines.  Taking our very long list of things to do, we checked off all our responsibilities, signed the appropriate papers, gathered all our boxes and equipment, and carried them outside.  As the voting gods were being nice to me, they place our collection spot right outside our door.  We didn’t have to load it in somebody’s car and drive it across town for collection.  I bid farewell to my three all-day companions and wished them well.  We all climbed into our cars and proceeded home.

Would I do this again?  Maybe.  I probably wouldn’t have if I had known what I was getting into from the beginning.  It was a long day and there was a little bit of satisfaction in knowing I participated in the process.  I met some good people.  I also met some bad people.  Nevertheless, the experience was interesting.  I can now check off this item from my ‘bucket list.’            

I know, many of you will look at the photos at the top of the blog and say, “There is no way Mike is turning 50 tomorrow.” and then there are a few of you, (I’m talking to you Matt) who will say, “Oh dear god, he’s not looking too good.”

Either way, being a half century has been a hell of a ride, so far.  I count my blessings every day for what I have.  A beautiful wife who puts up with my ever changing “get rich” plans.  Three gorgeous daughters who light up my life every day, even those days where I am pulling out what’s left of my hair.

Yeah, I’ve had my share of ups and downs.  A divorce, losing my dad way too soon, unemployment, a house with a couple of cats.  Nothing that most of you haven’t had to deal with in your own lives.

I’ve had a great time writing this blog.  It has given me an outlet to express my joy, pain, frustration, elation and my creativity.  I have made some great friends  that I hope to see in person some day.

So, as you enjoy this Memorial Day holiday, first please remember the reason why we celebrate it, those who have given their lives to protect our freedoms.  And second, raise a beer to the guy you’ve shared stories with for the last couple of years and know that he is at that half century mark.

….and still counting. 

Before Facebook, many of us would meet and every 10 years and be surprised (or not) by what had happened in our old friend’s lives.  How many of us were both excited and dreading the anticipation of our high school reunions?  The shock of how we have changed the addition of weight, the loss of hair, the extra lifelines (wrinkles) and the overall emotion of reconnecting were usually great.

However, all that has changed completely in the digital age.  Facebook has tainted how we approach our “every decade” meetings now.  It is no longer a surprise how anyone looks as you can just check their profile picture (unless it’s doppelganger week).  Every child, grandchild’s accomplishments have been described in detail on that person’s daily status updates. 

Don’t get me wrong about Facebook and its original intention of connecting long lost classmates.  I think it’s great to be able to be in contact with friends that have drifted away.  I’m glad to know that my old high school friend Tom in Missouri is now looking for a Black Cow to complete his virtual farm.  I’m also happy that Jim in Georgia is still sarcastic as he was in high school. 

Nevertheless, there is something to be said for seeing the faces of old friends who have disappeared only to reappear into your life every ten years.  To look at wonder on how they survived to adulthood or to comment about the trophy wife they married.  Those days are forever gone, and I for one am a bit sad about that.   

This anniversary is different from others. I have worked in and out of the high tech industry for years. My resume has had me in many different jobs for the last twenty years however; I’ve spent the last seven with my last employer.

We all knew the economy was tough and that it might take a little while to find the next job. Nevertheless, as the days continued, the jobs didn’t appear. How many resumes do you need to send out before your frustration begins to take its toll?

Today’s news that the jobless unemployment claims have risen again is not encouraging. It was hardly unexpected but still depressing. I don’t know the fix for this current situation we are experiencing. I don’t know if there is a fix at all. But, being the optimist I like to think I am, I believe that everything is cyclical and that we just need to wait for the upswing in the cycle.

Unlike many anniversaries, this one will be celebrated quietly. I will try to look at what I have and hope for better times ahead.

I’ve had the opportunity to have several mother’s in my life.  Obviously my own mother, who raised a couple of sons without much training considering she was an only child.  I maybe biased, but she did a pretty good job of getting my brother and I into adulthood. 

I have also married a couple of women (not at the same time, that’d be wrong…) who have been great mothers.  My first wife, with whom I had the great pleasure of raising two beautiful daughters.  And my current wife who with her own daughter has made for an interesting “female heavy” household.   

So, let me join the chorus that all men need to be shouting.  Thank you ladies for being the mother’s that many of us dad’s would be lost without.

Happy Mother’s Day….

So why do we blog?  Or better yet, in my case, why do I write?  I think I continue to do it as I did when I first started a blog a couple of years ago.  You write because you want to have a voice.  Your own voice and not someone else’s.  Not your wife, or husband, your boss or your kids voice, but your own. 

I think WeaselMommasaid it best in the comments of that post; “I do it because as a full time Mom, I have nothing that is my own. My time, my things and even my clothing wind up being shared or borrowed without permission by my family.  My blog gives me something that is mine alone. They can read it or be a part of it, but it is mine.”

I need writing, whether it is this blog (which I am woefully behind in updating) or those articles that I write for web content (thank you to those who click open them) to keep my sanity.  Though I love the contact I have with other writers, its the pure joy of having my words, my thoughts, and my ideas written out. 

So for those who are still out there ( I can hear you breathing), why do you continue to blog?  What has changed for you since you started blogging?  Have you looked at your writing differently or how you approach blogging in general? 

6:45 – The wife gently wakes me with a kiss goodbye and reminds me to have a great day.  Got to love that woman who keeps me grounded.  Got to remember her birthday this year…

7:30 – Begin to roll over in bed and contemplate the day.  Not much excitment planned for the day.  Stumble out of bed, head to the shower, inspect the soon to be 50 year old body for damage and aging.  Soak my head for 10 minutes in the shower to shake the cobwebs.

8:00 – I get dressed in shorts and a t-shirt (this is Southern California) and head out the door with the dog to meet with my Coffee Consortium at the patio of the local shopping center.  We all b.s. about the economy, jobs, money, how it was in the day, kids, grand kids (them) and drink our coffee.

9:00 – Head home with the dog after way too many stops.  This dog needs check out every damn bush!  Head upstairs and turn the computer on.

9:10  – 10:30 – Answer email, check cigar websites, update a Facebook status.  Basically goofing around for about an hour.  Then off to serious work.  The job hunt.  I’ve got about a dozen sites I check on to look for the latest in employment.  So far not much luck.

11:00 – 12:00 – Head to the gym and try to work out my frustration that finding a “friggin” job is so difficult.  Probably good for an additional couple of miles on the treadmill.

1:00 – 4:00 – Spend this time writing articles.  It is amazing what you can write about if you put the effort in.  Who knew I could write about allergies and dust mites? 

5:00 – 10:00 – Family time.  Dinner, time to talk with the wife and girls about their days of work and school.  Eventually one of the girls will ask:  

“What did you do today Dad?”