5 Questions To Ask Your Dad On Fathers Day

I found this interesting article on Fathers Day, the key point being:

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5 Questions To Ask Your Dad On Fathers Day

Father’s Day is the day to celebrate your dad, of course. But this year, it’s also your chance to make it something more. You can use this day to not only celebrate your dad but to also further your connection with him.

1. What was your favorite thing about your childhood?
2. What was something you did not like about your childhood?
3. What were you like when you were 21?
4. In hindsight, is there anything in life that you didn’t try, but wish you had?
5. What’s the greatest hope you have for your future?

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Since I got nearly heat-stroked twice over the past two days (mostly by doing stupid things outdoors), now is as good a time as any to take up this (indoor) challenge.

Q:  What was your favorite thing about your childhood?
A:  In hindsight, two things stand out:  1) The fact that the "Albert Boys" were basically a gang in and of ourselves.  I never really appreciated that all that much...or thought about it for that matter...until after my brother Chris passed away.  2) Riding my bike.  I loved riding my bike.  It was liberating and I could do it alone, which for me was a big deal.  While on my bike it felt as if the rest of the world didn't matter.

Q:  What was something you did not like about your childhood?
A:  I really and truly wish I would have had a father.  There was simply so much I missed in that regard, so many things I had to learn in my 20's & 30's that should have been a part of my upbringing.  There were no discussions in my childhood about what a man is supposed to do or be like; I had no template.  Maybe that's why being a Dad is so important to me.

Q:  What were you like when you were 21?
A:  The short answer is stupid.  But that describes many 21-year-olds.  I really didn't know what I wanted to do with my life; so many decisions back then I made out of fear...moving away from things instead of moving towards things.  In retrospect though, where I am now is a direct result of where I was then, so while the road may have been long and bumpy, the destination has been worth it.

Q:  In hindsight, is there anything in life that you didn't try, but wish you had?
A:  One of the life lessons I've learned...mostly since my mid-40's onward...is to not have regrets.  Those kinds of thoughts serve no purpose.  That noted, if anything, it would have been nice if I were a bit more adventurous when it comes to eating.  I'm sincerely trying to eat new things from time to time, even though, for the most part, it usually doesn't end well.

Q:  What's the greatest hope you have for your future?
A:   My greatest hope for my future is that I can stop running.  It feels like for most of my adult life I have been running.  Running to catch up to people who were being promoted before me at work.  Racing to be a better parent because I felt guilty for not doing or providing enough.  Running headlong to try and help others solve their problems while mostly ignoring my own.  It feels like, maybe, I can now slow down a bit.  It's time to now take in the scenery.  Learn new things.  Worry less.  Read more. 

 

Father's Day 2018, on the Border

There's a certain irony to the fact that, on Father's Day, the United States is right at this very moment taking innocent children away from their parents.   

Now the Trump supporters I know are good people. None of them, I want to believe, would ever think that taking children away from their parents is in any way a good policy or even morally defensible. None of them could personally participate in this kind of activity. Yet some just seem to buy into the rhetoric coming out of the President's camp; for that, well I feel sorry for them...but not as sorry as I do for the children who are frightened beyond all belief because they simply just want their Mom and Dad.

The fact is this: The President can, right now, simply tell A.G. Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III to simply STOP doing this. There is no law requiring that children be separated from their parents. Taking children away from their parents (let that sink in...taking children away from their parents) is the result of a choice made by the administration to charge those crossing at the border as criminals, simply by virtue of trying to cross into the United States, instead of as asylum seekers. What's happening now is that these frightened children are being used as pawns to goad Congressional Democrats to fund a border wall. A border wall that is more about the President's legacy and ego than it is about actual border security. 

Yes, children have been weaponized, which is both cruel and wrong.

As I noted in a Facebook posting, I simply don't care about the politics of this issue.  I also don't care whether others disagree with me.  In fact, I'll go one better:  If you disagree with my position on this issue then, well, please don't tell me that, because it will forever change my opinion of you, and not for the better.  Again, I want to believe that all of us can agree that the forcible separation of children from their parents...parents who are simply seeking asylum...is wrong.  In every circumstance.  

Coming back to my original premise, if you were working on the border, could you take children away from their parents?  I sincerely hope that the answer would be no.

More on this issue can be found HERE.

A Week of Degrees

It was what I would call a bad week.  Simply bad.  There was bad news...two suicides of public folks who seemingly had everything going for them.  There were bad body parts...in my case a left foot that impeded my ability to walk for much of the week.  There are stressful times at work.  This was one of those weeks where you look back and wonder just how you were able to somehow get by.

I confess to spending more time than I will actually account reading about the late designer Kate Spade.  As noted in another posting (HERE), I had not actually heard of her until this week.  My ability to intellectualize just about anything happening in the world was thrown asunder by the notion that this smart, incredibly successful...both financially and personally...and attractive person would end her life.  It just doesn't make sense, and that bothers me on some deep level.

For the record, I fully understand that mental health issues, in general, don't play well in a purely rational-thought driven world.  Like most feelings, well, they are best simply felt, not intellectually disassembled and analyzed like oh so many parts to a machine.  However, I am personally terrible at the former and pretty good at the later.  Feelings are hard.

By the time the news of Anthony Bourdain's suicide came to light, my ability to try and intellectually understand the intellectually un-understandable had been overloaded.  Too many feelings to understand, too many horrible past memories being dredged up.  It was just too much.

As noted above, I was also facing some physical challenges.  Thanks to a terrific family doctor, the problem with my foot was diagnosed as being an arthritis flair-up.  I had known about having arthritis in my right foot (big toe bones, to be precise), but the left foot was a new one.  The whole thing is a part of the price some of us pay for managing to get this old.  In any event, the foot is actually feeling better.

Adding to the mix is a series of challenges at work.  As I am learning, the notion of control is important to me.  I am at my best when I feel as if I have things under control.  I am at my worst when I feel the opposite.  One of the reasons why I struggle with delegation is because I don't feel comfortable relinquishing control over something.  That's not about the competence of the people I work with (all of whom are extraordinarily competent, for the record); no, that's about how I was raised and the notion that so much of that time in my life left out of control.  Anyway, at work right now there is a lot going on and I simply can't control everything.  It's not humanly possible.  Those two seemingly in conflict things drive my personal anxiety levels to the point where it's no wonder...maybe...that something like arthritis decides to make its presence known.

The seemingly final exclamation mark to my week happened Saturday morning when I had to assist my youngest brother.  He's a wonderful person, but like so many, technologically challenged.  After this past week, I had about...

...patience left.  Technical issues were solved, but it felt as if I had gotten hit by a club.  Again.

Then I came home, and a tube from Villanova Universtiy was waiting by our mailbox.  It was as if somehow I was being reminded that, even in the midst of dark chaos, sometimes good things happen

I had opted out of actually participating in the commencement activities at Villanova.  Despite the urgings of my wife and youngest daughter, I just didn't want to go through all the ceremony, etc.  More than anything else, I was just glad that school was over with and I could spend more time doing the things I enjoy.  "Studying HR stuff" is not one of the things I enjoy.  At age 54, I think I've earned the right to be less encumbered.

I will note that, after actually receiving my degree, I am left wondering "why" and "what's next".  I didn't start my graduate degree with the notion that it would directly benefit that which I laughingly call my career.  No, I think it was more about trying to prove to myself that I was smart enough to do it.  Yes, I do have doubts in that regard from time to time.  Now I have a piece of paper, waiting to be framed, that says those doubt might be wrong.  Sometimes.

Speaking of my piece of paper, I've managed to convince my wife that we should get both of our Master's degrees framed.  Her degree was successfully salvaged from another location last year in a clandestine operation that could be described as "Mission Impossible meets Hoarders".  My wife, being the truly smart person she is, earned her MBA from Wilkes University shortly after earning her Bachelor's degree.  Now I just have to drag her to the framing store and find a place to hang these wonderful documents.

Call it God or call it karma or call it random change.  Whatever it is, sometimes life as a knack for reminding us to keep things in perspective.

I Don't Know Anything About Kate Spade

Reference article HERE.

Prior to a few days ago I had never heard of Kate Spade.  Her brother in law?  Sure.  But the fashion designer?  Not in the least.

Now I am admittedly an idiot when it comes to fashion.  I think the very concept of fashion...that there are these uber-cool folks who can tell you what you should wear and then you'll be popular...is ridiculous.  I think the best clothes are the most comfortable.  Enough said.

Kate Spade apparently felt the opposite way about fashion.

That's about the only thing I now know for sure about Kate Spade, well outside of the fact that she apparently committed suicide.

I do know something about suicide; in point of fact, I know too much about suicide.  Not from having attempted it myself, but suffice to say that it's something that's touched my life on more than one occasion.  I know what the family of Kate Spade must be going through, and I can only hope that they eventually find some peace after this horrible event.

This is the part where I am supposed to say that Kate Spade's suicide will hopefully spark a national discussion about mental health, etc.  In today's society though, that discussion, like much of our collective attention span, will likely be short-lived.  

The moral of the story here, to the extent there can be one, is that this isn't about national debates and trendy discussions over Starbucks.  Rather, it's about the gritty reality that each of us has people in our lives who may be suffering, sometimes in silence.  It's about the fact that we all struggle to one extent or another with discussions on the inside, but for some, that inner dialogue takes a decidedly dark turn.  This isn't something that happens "over there" or to "him" or to "her".  This is something can be happening right now to you or to me or to our brother or sister, wife or parent.  Sadly, sometimes we find out about this after the fact.

I don't know the big solution here, and life is only going to get even more complicated; for some, that means the dark inner voice is only going to get louder.  

What I do know is the small solution:  Keep those you care about close.  Let them know you care.  Be the voice that maybe interrupts the decidedly dark inner dialogue in someone's head. 

Sometimes the best solutions come in the smallest packages.

Music

No matter how I feel, and despite rumors to the contrary, I "feel" a lot, music has this almost magical power to transform me.  I suspect that's true for others.  If it's not true for you, well, you have my sympathy.

Growing up I wasn't exactly surrounded by music.  My Mom had about a dozen vinyl records, a collection that included the soundtrack for West Side Story (I still know most of the words to "Gee, Officer Krupke"1), Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Carly Simon's Greatest Hits, Simon and Garfunkle's Greatest Hits, and a few other's I've long since forgotten.  As kids, my brothers and I would seemingly play these albums far more than my Mom ever did.  In fact, I don't ever recall my Mom playing any of these.  To say that my musical pallet was limited is like saying "I think the President may be using tan-in-a-bottle".  Let that last point sink in for a bit.

Further limiting my musical exposure was that fact that I really didn't listen to the radio all that much as a kid, well other than when there was a snowstorm and we would listen to local station WARM(2), hoping that "Scranton School District" would be mentioned.  An outcome of this was the fact that, for much of my childhood, I had no real sense as to what was considered popular music.  Well, in a spirit of complete honesty, I still don't have much of a sense as to what constitutes popular music.  Anway, in grade school, I recall a fellow student having a Kiss sticker on a notebook which I simply stared at one day, trying to figure out just what in the heck I was looking at.  Hindsight being 20/20, well, let's just say I wasn't missing much.

As I grew older I did make some attempts at expanding my musical sensibilities.  Earning money as a kid meant that I could afford to actually purchase music and devices from which said music could be played.  The first album I ever purchased was Parallel Lines by Blondie.  My first 8-track tape was ABBA's Greatest Hits.  While the 8-track thing died out quickly as the 1970's began to come to an end, I did end up buying a lot more albums over the years.  I'll note there was also an attempt on my part, through my junior high school education, to learn to play an instrument.  In my case, the instrument was the French Horn, and I failed miserably.  As in I was horrible.  As in the sounds I produced from the instrument bore no resemblance to actual music.  As I literally didn't know what I was doing.  How bad was I?  Well, I was so bad that I was taken off of the brass and moved to percussion, where I was better to handle the more basic instruction of "bang it now".  Ironically, all these years later I have a sister-in-law who plays the French Horn in an orchestra, providing me with an opportunity to hear what the instrument is supposed to sound like when one actually knows what one is doing.

Throughout adulthood, from young to "fast approaching older", I've found that music became more important to me.  While methods and modes of delivery have changed...yesterdays 8-track tapes that were replaced by vinyl albums have now been replaced by digital files(3)...I couldn't ever see my life without music.  In fact, I almost always have a song tucked away in the back of my head, a kind song of the day if you will.

My adult musical tastes run the gamut of styles and time-frames, and I'm constantly adding new songs.  While there are songs I've probably played on a few times, there are many that I play often.  I don't think that I have favorite songs, as that implies some kind of ranking system that I just don't think should apply to something like art.  If I were to pick one or two that seem to have a special meaning for me, I'd list the following:

Regarding #9 Dream, I read an interview with John Lennon where he noted that this song had no particular meaning, other than the fact that it was based, in part, on an actual dream.  For me?  The song just simply blows me away.  I consider it be beautiful and deep in a way I really can't explain.

As for Goodbye Girl, well, I just happen to think it's an incredibly beautiful song.  Simple and yet for me evocative.  David Gates is incredible...a highly under-rated songwriter and performer.  It was also part of a terrific movie(4).

So, that's music.  May all of us enjoy a wonderful soundtrack for our lives.

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(1) In case you are curious, click HERE.

(2) You can find a blog dedicated to WARM Radio HERE.

(3) I have over 2,328 songs in my digital music collection; I say "over" because I'm not counting those that are just on the Amazon cloud (and I'm simply too lazy to count them at the moment).

(4) Details HERE.  Richard Dryfuss  won an academy award for his work in the movie.  

Memorial Day 2018

"The life of a man consists not in seeing visions or dreaming dreams, but in active charity and in willing service."

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

All photos are of Arlington National Cemetary, July 2013.

Helen Wheels

The original plan after I earned my Master's degree was that I would do something for myself that I had been meaning to do for a long time.  A big personal gift.  Something like a vintage VW Beetle.  Maybe a light blue 1967 model.  Anyway, that thought occurred a few years ago, before I was put into a job search mode, before my disposable income changed, before I had to pay more out of pocket for the degree.  I'm not complaining mind you...I bought the ticket and took the ride.

Anyway and undeterred, I still thought it was appropriate to get myself a small gift for graduation.  If not a vintage VW Bug, what then?  The answer?  A new bike.

I've had a bike for most of my life.  As a kid, I would ride for miles on end, which in Scranton (with all of its hills) is something of a feat.  I've always found riding a bike to be something of a perfect activity for an introvert:  Unless I am riding with my wife (or, as was the case last summer, my mother-in-law) it tends to be an almost contemplative experience.

(May 2018, the new wheels)

I'll note that I've had the same Trek bike for something like 20 years.  It has, in fact, served me very well.

(October 2017)

However, the bike was a bit too small for me and its complete and utter lack of any form of shock absorption made for some rough rides on my older frame.  The new bike went out for an inaugural ride this evening on the side streets of West Pittston, PA (a very bike-friendly town).  Many more rides will come. 

For the record, the new bike was purchased at Sickler's Bike Shop in Kingston, PA.  It's nice to be able to support a local business.  If you live in NEPA and are looking for a bike check them out.

The Un-stretched Rubber Band

In the back of my head, well, I knew this day was coming.  For the record, I even tried to prepare for it, but we all know how that old saying about "... best-laid plans..." goes.  "This day" and "it" refers to how I feel after having finished school related stuff(1).  The best way I can describe it is via a rubber band:

You stretch it and stretch it and stretch it.  Miraculously, it doesn't break.  But you do eventually let go of it, and what's left, after it snaps back, is a mere shadow of the formerly stretched self, formless and misshapen.  

That's where I'm at right here and now.

As a side note, I almost constantly...without exaggeration...have a song playing in my head.  As I was thinking about this topic during the quiet hours of this morning, the following song lyric came to mind:

"And if anything, 
then there's your sign of the times

I was alive and waited, waited
I was alive and waited for this,
Right here, right now"(2)

Sign of the times indeed.

Call it a funk.  Call it a rut.  This has happened to me before.  And will likely happen again.

There isn't much of a solution here.  No "chemical willy"(3) would be of help; besides, I'm simply adamant about the fact that, when all is said and done, I never want anything (including pharmacology) to come between me and my ability to truly experience life...the good, the bad, and the over-stretched rubber-band.  That could be either a truly enlightened concept on my part or incredibly stupid.  Both are likely to be correct.

Now I could find some other big thing to do.  And maybe that will happen.  But at the moment, "right here and now" I just don't have the mental juice for that sort of thing.  In as much as I feel as if I should be doing something big, part of me also knows that I need to rest, both mentally and physically.  The latter, by the way, has always been something of a challenge; as evidence, I can point to my having woken up at 5am this morning.  On a Saturday.

So what's left?  Maybe make a list of things I want to get done over the next few months.  Working outside is always sort of enjoyable for me.  As someone who has worked in the business world for three decades, complete with its tendency towards tremendous effort being put into things where there is no tangible outcome, something like cutting the grass has a significant benefit:  Before the work, the grass is high, after the work the grass is low.  

If only it were that easy in our professional lives.

(1) See THIS posting, among others.
(2) Jesus Jones, "Right Here Right Now"
(3) A phrase used by the late Hunter S. Thompson somewhere in The Great Shark Hunt.

The Book I Would Write...

...if I were to ever write a book that is, would be about the importance of kindness, particularly in our professional lives.  It's my somewhat learned opinion that there's a deficit of kindness in this country, especially in the business world.  We simply need more kindness.

In many ways, the classic American business ethos is the antithesis of kindness, rife with blind ambition, where one climbs the ladder of success, never minding the heads that might be stepped on along the way.  It's a land where people do what they are told, where "I don't pay you to think".  It's a work ethic where "driving for success" is admired, regardless of the dark route that drive had to take.  This is the ugly American at his or her worst.

The problem with that whole line of thought is that it casually forgets that almost all effort at work is actually discretionary in nature.  We all choose how we show up to work each and every morning (figuratively or literally).  Even when we are "doing as we are told", our disdain for systems and managers (as opposed to leaders) that disregard who we are as human beings inevitably leads, at best, passive resistance.  At worst?  Things like active sabotage come to mind.  I don't care who you are, where you come from, or how much money you have:  None of us work best under threat or coercion.  Sure, ambition may carry us along for some period of time, but just like gravity, we inevitably get pulled down to reality.  Put another way, ambition is a bit like really good chocolate cake in that our perception of having it is always better than the actual taste.  And when we finally do get that cake?  Well, how many pieces does it take before we're so sick of cake that we can't eat another bite?

For the record, I'm not dismissing ambition. Like any tool, it can be used or abused.  Kind of like using a $200+ power drill...

...to hammer in nails.

The cure, if you want to call it that, for what ails our society is kindness.  Just be kind.

• Be kind when it's easy.
• Be especially kind when it's hard.
• Be kind to those who are kind to you.
• Be especially kind to those who are not kind to you.  They likely don't know any better or they might be struggling in ways that none of us can understand.
• Be as kind to the person who empties your trash as you are to the executive you want to impress.
• Be kind in ways only you need to know about.
• Be kind because ultimately you have to live with yourself...and do you really want to live with someone isn't kind?

Kindness doesn't mean that we fail to make difficult business decisions.  Someone can be, for example, laid off from their job in a manner that is kind.  Someone can be put on a performance improvement plan that is inherently kind (because we actually want them to get better).  We can provide all manner of constructive feedback in a spirit that speaks of kindness.  We can seek promotions/professional growth in a way that demonstrates the value we see in others...not as steps to walk on along our way...but as allies who have taught us and added to our capabilities.

By the way, kindness in a business context has a kind of secret weapon quality to it:  It's free.  Being kind costs absolutely nothing.  No special kindness training to schedule and attend.  No consultants needed.  No programs to implement.  No infographics or logos required.  No polices to socialize and then post on the intranet.  Just commit to being kind. 

Lastly, like all truly important things in our lives (be they be personal or professional), kindness is a journey.  I am not always as kind as I should be, particularly to those who I seem to think not kind to me or to others.  I particularly struggle with individuals that I believe have a generous ego.  I can, should and will do better, not because I'm looking for some otherworldly reward, but because ultimately kindness is the reward.

Motherhood

I woke up this morning at 5:18am(1) with the following thought in my head:

Motherhood is the most difficult, most important job in the world for which there are no educational requirements, no licensing, no registration.

I'll also note that, as evidenced by this blog(2), few people have more influence on us...on our lives...than our own Mother.  Be that good, bad or indifferent.  Our Mothers physically carry us before we are born, and we then mentally carry our Mothers with us for the rest of our lives.  Motherhood is, at least by my estimation, the highest calling.

(Around 1970; the blogger is on the far left, with my Mother and two of my brothers)  

My hope is that every Mother out there feels appreciated today in some special kind of way. 




(1) I've been unfortunately getting up far too early on the weekends.  Not sure why.  It's along the lines of my eyes peer open and my brain immediately goes full throttle.
(2)  I've likely written about my own Mother hundreds of times on this blog.