Life at 3 miles an Hour

I can’t believe its over already. How many are feeling the same thing. It’s kind of like a holiday hangover. There’s all of the flurry of activity, the laughter, the good feelings of good company….maybe… and then the morning after. Tired, worn, slightly disoriented, trying desperately to dredge up memories and feelings from the night before and not let them swirl into the darkness of my mind, is the order of this morning. Even my caffeinated work zone is quieter and more subdued. It arrived, sort of like the polar express bearing down on the day. Then, in a wave of paper, boxes, ribbons and bows, it left again. Gone but not forgotten, I hope. It was said of Ebeneezer Scrooge, that if any man had the ability to keep Christmas all year long, it was him. I wonder how he accomplished it. Was it because he was so far gone that when change came, it swept over him like a wave that continued to carry him up the beach long after the rest has receded? I guess that maybe I’m not that...

Coming towards the end of a year, my first instinct is to look back. One thought rings loud as Christmas bells rattling between my ears. Here it is….my philosophy for the year. We’re not as strong as we think we are. I’ve been reminded of that repeatedly this past year. Two relief trips to New Orleans, friends dealing with cancer, a wife with serious back issues, teenage lapses in judgment, a season of flooding, and now the latest and greatest of storms will tend to do that to a person with any type of balanced reality. To be honest, its not been the event itself as much as the attitude that surrounded it this past year that has helped me appreciate our truly humbling existence. It seems almost as though I can’t pick up a paper or turn on a news broadcast without witnessing us failing miserably in our attempt to overcome our human limitations. Only half way into December and it seems as if more people have been reported lost in the snow than during the days of the Oregon trail....

I’ve been ruined. It’s been a long steady road I guess. I’m thinking that its taken nearly seven years, but I’m finally there I think. Allow me to explain. It has taken nearly seven years, but I think that I’ve finally become comfortable in an urban existence. I can no longer imagine life without mass transit. I can’t conceive of a world without coffee on every corner….and I don’t mean Flo’s 10 cent ceramic mug coffee. I mean real status coffee. The kind of coffee that I spend a ridiculous amount on, while kids go starving in other parts of the world. I don’t know about any other kind anymore. I don’t know what it would be like to not have coffee on every block. I’m looking out of the window by my seat at Tully’s directly across to Starbucks on the opposite corner. My wife and I walk everywhere. Within a 5minute walk we can eat at restaurants from all over the world, including real authentic New York style pizza. People know us in the community and to some degree we matt...

This morning, for the first time in a long time, I’m feeling somewhat closer to the age that’s listed on my legal identifying documents. I wonder if this is how others that were born in 1963 feel, and if so, how long have they felt this way. Not only am I feeling it physically, I’m experiencing it emotionally as I sit here and answer an 80’s trivia question tossed out by a barista half my age. Sometimes my mind creates this illusion that I “grew up” during that era. I only remember being young then. The reality is that I was married and having children then. I myself am a child of the previous decade. But then again I’ve always been about 10 years off. One look in my closet testifies to that reality. I can’t complain too much though about age and aging. The last time that I can remember feeling old was about 8 years ago. It was August 1998. It was 95 humid degrees outside and I was lying on a field with a severely broken arm and shoulder after being tackled by a three hund...

I’m observing these days the idea that adversity establishes priority. This concept takes shape in many different ways. Basically how it works is, in an observational sense, adversity will create barriers in an individuals life. The level of adversity, or the size of the barrier that it creates, determines the effort needed to get over, around, or under said adversity. It is in this effort that is required where priorities are brought to light. For example, we recently experienced a rare and unusual snow storm here in the land of caffeine. People here have a tendency to be very wary of rain that turns hard and slick. A barrier began to go up in the lives of the inhabitants of the great Puget Sound region. Immediately priorities began to be established. These were indicated by answering the question “ how badly do I want to go to…………?” The answer and the actions following the answer indicate a level of priority. In that moment, if you look analytically at the situation, you ...

Do you remember “The Claw”? I’m not talking about the “sitting around the campfire, creepy story so you can’t get to sleep” type of claw. I’m also not referring to the “all you can” eat crab legs type of claw. The claw that I have in mind is the selective force of the universe type of claw found in Pizza Planet. It’s the same Pizza Planet that can be seen in that classic groundbreaking Hollywood achievement known as “Toy Story”. If you remember “The Claw” then you may remember it’s mission to basically select who stays and who goes. At least the little bug eyed alien toys thought so. They worshipped “The Claw”. They believed that their destiny was in the jaws of “The Claw”. Little did they realize that there was someone on the outside who was operating “The Claw” and at least influencing the selection process. I have been that operator during different times in my life. I have been known to hypnotically drop quarters into the slot of one of these machines and try repeatedly ...

I got a phone call late last night. It certainly wasn’t one that I had been anticipating. In fact it called me out of a meeting. The voice on the other end had a bewildered tone. “Dad, why didn’t you tell me that I had a flat tire?” It might be a reasonable question in some other circumstance, however not in this one. He thought that I might have some insight into his inflationary issues since I had changed his tires that morning. The problem with his thought process was that since that time, early in the morning, more than 14 hours and at least 100 miles worth of driving had occurred, primarily by him, and the tire was at its reliable fighting weight of 34 lbs psi. Then it had sat at his place of employment for about 5 hours. In addition to these minor details, in his driving he had been all around his car packing it to go home, as well as putting new registration tabs on his license plates. On top of that, the tire in question was the front drivers side tire, which he had passed nume...

I have an assignment. I should clarify that maybe. I should tell you that I’ve given myself an assignment. It’s the worst kind of assignment for me. It’s an assignment to be creative. I hate those. The whole reason that I quit pursuing the creative arts as a career back in the day was that I couldn’t deal with creativity on demand. It was too difficult to schedule times of creative influence simply to receive a grade which would then justify the exorbitant cost of my higher education. For me it just never worked that way. The way it usually worked for me was that I got graded for the schedule driven junk that I hated while those gems which occasionally came along during odd hours never saw the pages of a grade book. I don’t know how God did it, the creation thing I mean. Six days of continual creativity is more than my brain can comprehend. Writing this blog once a week is almost more than I can handle as it is. The other day I read back, with awe and wonder, through the 8...

It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, more than two weeks I’m thinking. I know that the tree outside the window of this caffeine based establishment is now bare. The last time I sat here watching life go by it was a deep burgundy color with just a hint of green left at the tips of the upper most branches. Now its bare, sort of a Tim Burton film kind of look. Actually it looks now how I felt then the last time I sat here….a sort of thin, haggard, spindly feeling. As I’ve been sitting here this morning looking at a blank screen, I can’t help notice the little battery icon in the lower left corner that keeps warning me of a depleting energy level. It’s a reminder like the witch gave to Dorothy about her impending demise when the sand runs out. I’m not plugged in, and if nothing were to change in this computing relationship then I will eventually run to the point of hibernation. It doesn’t stop unless I plug in. As I sit here this morning I’m thankful that I’m feeling a bit...

So I’m wondering this morning….Is the state of marriage in our culture as bad as husbands would lead us to believe? To be sure, there are some wives who act like their husband is similar in nature to one of the great plagues of Egypt. More than likely though it’s the husbands that I’m hearing from. Usually what I hear from the wives are tales of men behaving badly in their relationship. By badly, I don’t even mean cheating. It’s more clueless, insensitive, self-centered, childish (am not, are so, am not….) and well, just generally men-like. I totally understand this, because I am one…a man I mean. All of those adjectives at one time or another can aptly describe me. My goal however is that it wouldn’t also be identified with my relationship to my wife. I’m reading in Genesis this past week, the early parts with all of the cool creative stuff that God was doing with His creative ability, and I, one more time, read through the activity surrounding the creation of Adam. I’ve r...

Where does time go? Does anyone else want to know or is it just my bizarre way of thinking. I mean, is it recorded like some great eternal TiVo, to be played back for you when you die? Or is it just erased to make room for more episodes, kind of like some old VHS tape you might find last minute when you’re desperate to record a show you didn’t know would be on. Will it ever come back around in a déjà vu moment or will it drop into a black hole. I’ve read that sound waves travel indefinitely through space. I wonder about time moments. The sound thing bothers me because there are many things I’ve said that I would never want to hear again. I have similar feelings, I guess, towards time that I’ve wasted and would be far too painful to have to live again. For sure there are moments that I’d love to experience one more time. That’s not what I’m referring to. I’m thinking more along the lines of an, Ebeneezer Scrooge type, replaying of my life where I would only be a spectator. ...

Everyone wants a voice. At least everyone wants to be heard in some way. It may not be audibly. It may be visual. You could argue, I suppose, that visually means that they want to be seen. I don’t think so. I think that they really want to be heard and if seen equals heard for them, then that’s just fine by them. You may not agree, but this is my blog so I get to be heard at the moment. If you want to be heard then you could always respond. I simply mean that people want to know that they’ve had influence or that they’ve been recognized for a contribution that may last beyond their natural lives or at least beyond their immediate circle. Visual artists want to be heard. They have a message. They want their work to communicate it. They want you to listen. Writers obviously want to be heard. Teachers want to be heard in order to convey a lesson. Lawyers want to be heard to convey truth, …or not. People who have bumper stickers want to be heard. They want their views and ideologies known....

Everyone wants a voice. At least everyone wants to be heard in some way. It may not be audibly. It may be visual. You could argue, I suppose, that visually means that they want to be seen. I don’t think so. I think that they really want to be heard and if seen equals heard for them, then that’s just fine by them. You may not agree, but this is my blog so I get to be heard at the moment. If you want to be heard then you could always respond. I simply mean that people want to know that they’ve had influence or that they’ve been recognized for a contribution that may last beyond their natural lives or at least beyond their immediate circle. Visual artists want to be heard. They have a message. They want their work to communicate it. They want you to listen. Writers obviously want to be heard. Teachers want to be heard in order to convey a lesson. Lawyers want to be heard to convey truth, …or not. People who have bumper stickers want to be heard. They want their views and ideologies known....

The leaves are beginning to change. To be sure it’s the early stages here, but they’re changing nonetheless. I’m gauging it by the tree across the corner from my new caffeine port. A maple tree, nicely trimmed from beneath to politely allow pedestrian passage, begins on it’s lower reaches in a summer emerald tone. As it progresses towards it’s ultimate upward reach though it begins to tan slightly through the middle. The uppermost branches are a bit of burgundy, finally yielding to a Fall orange as the tips are reached. It’s early Fall here. Most are probably not even recognizing the subtle shift. I do. I’m not from here. I mean I am, but my memories of Fall still move me back to earlier days in Upstate New York and the unbelievable blanket of color that has already unfolded by this time. It takes about a week longer here in the Northwest and the coloring doesn’t compare and it’s probably the only time now that I still feel as a foreigner. I think that this is probably be...

I’m sure that I ought to know better. I’ve told others this before. I’ve taught about it. It’s gone through my ears but not stuck in my head. I’m talking about planning. I should have known not to begin planning out how my life was going to go so far in advance. Actually it was going, sort of, according to plan just the other day. Then came Monday, just like all of the other proverbial Monday’s that we deal with and Monday did its Monday thing and decimated all of my plans. Actually I shouldn’t sound so selfish, because it took a lot of lives with it. Within the scope of just hardly any time at all, the plans that I had laid out before God for His blessing were totally altered. Personal, professional, physical, financial, social, you name it. It was all altered. I guess that I should know better knowing who it is that really controls my life and destiny. Why am I shocked when I lay my plans before someone who wonders “why do you say today or tomorrow we will go here or ther...

You may have heard the phrase “familiarity breeds contempt”. I’ve not really been all the sure about what that really looks like in real life. I think that it means that the more familiar you are with a situation, the more you take it for granted and the less you dwell on certain possible consequences. We’ve all been reminded of this with the passing of “The Crocodile Hunter”. It could be said that he died doing what he loved. I’m not an expert and have no great insight into the circumstances, but it has caused me to pause and wonder if some people don’t die because they are doing what they love. What I mean is, because they are pursuing a life long passion that has become second nature to them, their guard is down and danger happens. Statistics show that an abnormally large percentage of auto accidents occur relatively close to home. Many serious injury accidents occur in the mundane routine parts of everyday life. We may try to keep to the familiar to feel safe, but the para...

I’m just beginning to realize that I’m getting old. In 10 days I’ll be 43. That isn’t really all that old to many people I know. Some would tell you that it’s middle age. If it’s middle age, then that would mean I would live to be 86. I don’t think that I want to live to be 86. I know that I don’t want to be in the life phase where every nightly trip to bed is an adventure that I won’t be sure of waking up from. I’ve been in some venues lately where I’ve noticed how much older people struggle to keep up, mentally, physically, and sometimes even emotionally. I work hard to be current. I work hard to keep an edge. I work hard to be a part of the contemporary world that I live in, but I have to tell you that it gets harder every month to keep up, to look like I have a clue about what’s going on around me. The edges that were once sharp yearn to go back to dull. I watch those in their later years struggle with this. I don’t want to struggle. Whether I want to or not, I may ...

Balance is an elusive thing. The thing about balance is that you’re never really “there”. It’s never really final. Maybe in a perfect world or in a vacuum existence you could achieve balance, but not in the life that you and I live in. Balance is never final because it depends on outside influences that are constantly at work. Balance comes in all forms in every part of life. You have physical balance. It’s the kind that keeps you walking on the straight and narrow. It’s the type that you hope you can maintain when a uniformed individual asks you to walk the yellow line alongside a local highway. It can be affected by what has been introduced to your body, like alcohol. It can also be affected by what ought to be introduced into your body. A few weeks ago I had issues with heat exhaustion and dehydration. The most pronounced symptom for me was that I lost my balance. I had a sense that any quick movement would result in my swirling rather gracefully to the ground in a black haze. It wa...

We have holes in our backyard now. I’m not referring to little mole holes. They are in the front yard. I’m talking about big holes, deep holes, intimidating holes. They are holes that used to be filled with hundreds of pounds of concrete. They are all over my backyard. It’s not as bad as it sounds though. Actually they are a sign of progress. There used to be a playground where the holes were. For the past 5 years we have lived with a preschool playground where a yard should be. In the next few months there will reappear a yard where the playground used to be. It’s not much, but it’s progress. We’re praying for the day when we can look out and the holes will be only memories. I have holes in my life at the moment. They’ve not come all at once. Actually its been a few year progression. It began when my son graduated from high school. Things began to change rapidly around here. Those of you who have gone through this already know that which I am talking about. Those who...

Summer on the beach. It’s not really what I had always imagined that it might be. Although this is not your average beach I guess. This morning as I drove around the point I encountered a few of the unique features that go along with Northwest beaches. The first thing that is apparent here is the marine layer. Don’t know what marine layer is? Neither did I until I moved to Seattle. In most of the rest of the world I think that it would be called fog. The ships are gliding in and out of the curtains floating just above the water line. There may be a difference between them, marine layer and fog, but I couldn’t tell you what it might be. It’s just basically the low lying clouds that obscure most of the beachfront this morning while the towers of the city across the bay rise up into another day of promised sunshine. We won’t see it on our level for awhile yet. An eagle is on the beach this morning, poking around for some seafood I guess. Now there’s something that you don’t se...

Looking out from my window to the beach world this morning, there’s a ship cruising the sound that demands my attention. It is not an ordinary ship. It evokes more emotion than an ordinary ship just as a police cruiser evokes more emotion than the family mini van. There’s a battleship gracefully plowing the waters on its way to the naval base in Bremerton. It’s interesting how your pulse races when a patrol car eases in behind you. You instantly become guilty although you’re rarely sure of what, and most of the time even what you may guilty of is of little consequence to the police. If you’re on the wrong side of the law, the patrol cars become even more alarming. As I watch the battleship pass by, I’m fully aware that it is not on a mission. At least it’s not on a mission to do battle. It’s actually headed home. Probably nothing short of invasion would tempt the crew to about face and head away from home. The ship, in my eyes anyway, represents freedom, in fact freedom bought with a p...

I’m on vacation this week. I’m not really sure if it’s a valid one or not. Virtually every person who has found out that I’m on vacation has asked me the same question. “So where are you going?” It got me to wondering….at what point in history did vacation become defined by where one goes? What I mean is, what location apart from my normal existence would validate my not being in the office for an extended period of time? I’ve been surrounded by the private school crowd for the past 6 years. Within that culture, vacation destinations are like merit badges to achieve. I know that I’m out of my league when a week in Hawaii is considered routine, average, middle of the road, no brain vacation. I thought that Cancun sounded exotic, until I learned of Cabo San lucas. The theory seems to be the harder it is to say, the more desirable it is to stay. Anyway, I know families with vacation homes in other parts of the world and seemingly other parts of the galaxy. So what can I offer? How do you ...

“I just got out”. That was a common response for me last week when I met up with people I know. Most of them knew that I had been called for jury duty, and the item of interest in my life, for a week anyway, was how long would I last before I got kicked off. I had no doubt that I would be kicked off, the only question was when. It’s not anything like how I imagined it would be, the jury selection process I mean. Being kicked off was everything that I have ever imagined and also experienced with rejection. I was certain that I really wanted nothing to do with jury duty at this point in my life. And by the way, it is a duty, or so I was told repeatedly throughout the process. I was thanked repeatedly from the court and the attorneys for taking part in this process and giving time out of my life, almost like I had volunteered for this. I was coerced. Actually I was threatened. My summons told me that to ignore this “duty” would be a crime carrying with it a fine and everything. ...

I have a confession. Actually, it’s been awhile since I’ve given a formal confession. Back in my days as a good Catholic growing up I would be in the confessional for the weekly list of my “sins du jour”. I never really was a good Catholic, but my mother was and she “inspired” me to make the Saturday visits with the priest so that I could stay in good standing with whoever it was that I needed to be in good standing with. I never really thought that it was God keeping score. In fact I’m pretty sure that He nodded off and sent in a designated confession angel after about my third trip when it was apparent that I only really knew of a few things that constituted sin and I repeated them with great regularity. They usually had something to do with calling my sister names. I’ve been accused many times of being boring, predictable, and scheduled. I am. I’m sure that in those days my priest would have agreed. I secretly imagine that just once in my relationship with him he would have...

You may have heard it said of someone, “they just have a magnetic personality”. I’m sure that you even personally know people who just seem to attract a crowd. In Malcom Gladwell’s book The Tipping Point these people are identified as connectors. My wife is one of those people. She’s a magnet. By that I mean that, first of all, people are attracted to her, and secondly, wherever she happens to be there is a certain energy or force in the air. Things happen around her. Her driving philosophy is that life is a party and if she meets you once, she wants you to be a part of it. Your agenda, whatever it may be, will be greatly advanced if you can get her to buy into it. Then it becomes like so many dominos lined up in succession that when the leader is tipped, they all fall in line. Sometimes I envy her. I’ve never really considered myself to have a magnetic personality at all. As a leader, this means I have to work extra hard at things which are naturally a part of her being. ...