Something For When You're Bored

I've Moved!

2011-10-11T09:56:00.000-07:00

It is with a sense of sorrow and a proverbial tear in my eye that I publish this last and final post on Blogger.

The time has come for me to consolidate my writing to one blogging platform, and that platform for me is WordPress. So, if you've enjoyed my writing here, I invite you to continue reading the drivel that I put together on my new personal WordPress site (http://gilgonzalez.wordpress.com).

For more information about what I'm up to, please visit my About.Me page.

Thank you all for the support and comments over the years. I look forward to the continued interaction with you all on my new site. See you there!

Offsetting the Gravity of Failure

2011-10-03T00:07:00.001-07:00

Failure. The word itself is filled with weight.

I used to live in a world where the gravity of failure could be paralyzing. The idea of not succeeding or not attaining my personal goals was unthinkable to me.

It’s not as if my life was perfect and did not have its share of setbacks. Still, I feel I always lived a blessed life, and, for the most part, I had always been able to achieve that which I set out to do. This is, of course, until life served up a healthy dose of reality that allowed me to open my eyes to the truth. I guess that’s what maturity is: the clarity of vision that’s achieved with the passing of time and the accumulation of experience.

My closed door begins with a love story. It’s the tale of a young lad who falls head over heels for a princess, a princess betrothed to a knight and living comfortably in her castle. The young boy, who himself is committed to someone else, is so blinded by his love and infatuation that he forsakes the bond he once held true in order to pursue the princess, a woman he knows with absolute certainty is his ‘one true love’. The princess returns his affections in kind, and the two of them dream of a happily ever after together.

The story, however, does not conclude with a fairytale ending. Rather, just as the boy is running to the castle gates to claim his princess, she orders the gates be slammed shut. The boy is left to fall into a cavernous mote and anguish as he’s consumed by the metaphorical beast that is failure.

(Aside: Creative liberty and dramatic flair are probably my two favorite things about being a writer.)

So you get the point. I went all in on what I thought was a winning hand, and I ended up losing it all. As I look back on the pivotal moment that changed my life, I still remember the numbness I felt in my body at the realization that what I believed with all my heart to be absolutely true turned out to be false. It was as if a bomb had gone off, and I could hear a ringing in my ears that was literally blinding.

The door to my dream had been slammed shut.

In keeping with the theatrical writing, I would like for you to imagine a movie scene you’ve seen a million times. The hero takes a fall or is ambushed and hit in the back of the head. The screen goes black. Next, you see the hero groggily opening his eyes and trying desperately to find his orientation or figure out where he is. That’s what happened to me.

Following my life changing failure moment, it took me a while to figure out what came next. Yet once I was able to open my eyes to see and understand things from a new perspective, so many things became clear to me.

I’m nearly forty years old and I can say without equivocation I’ve live more in the last six years since that life changing event than I had prior to that point. There is no doubt in my mind that moment of failure was the best thing that ever happened to me. I would, in all likeliness, not be writing at this moment if not for that event that crushed my heart and left me emotionally dead for a period of time.

To put it into better perspective, that moment was not a closed door that lead to an open door. It was a closed door that lead to a million open, wonderful, amazing, unbelievable, and exciting doors, and it’s been an absolute blessing to have been able to walk through them all. Just about everything I have today which I cherish and which makes me complete as a person stems from the people I’ve met as a result of that one door being slammed shut in my face.

The saying goes, “This, too, shall pass.” I admit it’s very hard to see down the road when all you can see is a closed door. But when you find yourself in that situation, remind yourself that failure is not an ending but rather the beginning of something new. Failure is indeed full of gravity that can pull you down, but success is measured in your ability to get right back up.

Soapbox Tuesday

2011-09-27T13:16:00.000-07:00

Every now and again, I come across articles or blog posts that just set me off. Having been raised Catholic, this one post stirred up those emotions in me that made me literally stop what I was doing and just start writing.

The igniting blog post can be found here and is copied below. I left a long and verbose comment which I wanted to capture in my own blog given the moderator of the original post can simply delete my comments at their discretion.

In a letter to President Obama this week, Archbishop Timothy Dolan, writing on behalf of the U.S. bishops, said the Obama administration’s fight against the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), which defines marriage as between one man and one woman, would “precipitate a national conflict between Church and State of enormous proportions and to the detriment of both institutions.”

From the archbishop’s letter:

I write with a growing sense of urgency about recent actions taken by your Administration that both escalate the threat to marriage and imperil the religious freedom of those who promote and defend marriage…

The Catholic Bishops stand ready to affirm every positive measure taken by you and your Administration to strengthen marriage and the family. We cannot be silent, however, when federal steps harmful to marriage, the laws defending it, and religious freedom continue apace…

I know that you treasure the importance that you and the First Lady, separately and as a couple, share in the lives of your children. The Mother‟s Day and Father‟s Day proclamations display a welcome conviction on your part that neither a mom nor a dad is expendable. I believe therefore that you would agree that every child has the right to be loved by both a mother and a father.

The institution of marriage is built on this truth, which goes to the core of what the Catholic Bishops of the United States, and the millions of citizens who stand with us on this issue, want for all children and for the common good of society. That is why it is particularly upsetting, Mr. President, when your Administration, through the various court documents, pronouncements and policies identified in the attached analysis, attributes to those who support DOMA a motivation rooted in prejudice and bias. It is especially wrong and unfair to equate opposition to redefining marriage with either intentional or willfully ignorant racial discrimination, as your Administration insists on doing.

We as Bishops of the Catholic Church recognize the immeasurable personal dignity and equal worth of all individuals, including those with same-sex attraction, and we reject all hatred and unjust treatment against any person. Our profound regard for marriage as the complementary and fruitful union of a man and a woman does not negate our concern for the well-being of all people but reinforces it. While all persons merit our full respect, no other relationships provide for the common good what marriage between husband and wife provides. The law should reflect this reality.

My comments were as follows:

It is sad and upsetting that Archbishop Dolan has done such a poor job in presenting his argument for DOMA, and although I disagree with his argument regarding what marriage should be, he really could have done a better job in presenting his case to the Obama administration,

“We cannot be silent, however, when federal steps harmful to marriage, the laws defending it, and religious freedom continue apace…” NOT defining marriage as being a union between a man and a woman does nothing to impede religious freedom. If anything, it serves to strengthen the concept of separation of church and state.

Christianity is the majority religion in the United States, but Christianity should not think itself as the vehicle to define marriage for every person living in this country. In Christianity, marriage is covenant among man, woman, and God. In the eyes of the US government, marriage is simply a contract between two individuals that is sanctioned by the state in which those individuals reside.

“I believe therefore that you would agree that every child has the right to be loved by both a mother and a father.” I think the goal should be for every child to be loved period! A male and female parent figure does not guarantee love. The proponents of DOMA need to stop with the implication that same-sex parents cannot provide adequate love for a child. Bad parents are bad parents, be they straight or gay. The Archbishops point on this matter is grossly flawed and should be summarily dismissed.

“The institution of marriage is built on this truth (that that every child has the right to be loved by both a mother and a father).” This is not a truth but rather a teaching based on Christian dogma. Again, this argument is flawed and the Catholic Church is astoundingly arrogant in its attempt to subtlety impose its belief on all Americans.

“..no other relationships provide for the common good what marriage between husband and wife provides.” Again, completely subjective and not, in my opinion, remotely correct. Raising a child, be it one parent, two parents, or, as what happens with divorce, four parents, can be the single most important effort that provides for the common good. Children who are loved, nourished, and encouraged tend to become responsible and productive adults. I would argue THAT is much more important to the common good than whether or not a husband and wife love each other.

I do not believe the Catholic Church is seeking to be discriminatory, however they are caught in the grey area between their teachings and the diversity of the American public. They are intolerant to the idea of same-sex marriage, and they are trying to promote this idea to a public that thrives in tolerance. What the Catholic Church needs to do is recuse itself from the discussion of DOMA as it has no place trying to fold its beliefs into the legislation of this country. To do so – to blur the line that defines the separation of church and state – would be the action that would truly precipitate a national conflict.

What Do You Mean Pick One?

2011-09-26T14:54:00.000-07:00

As we randomly selected our topics for Random Writers, “What’s Your Favorite Website?” is the topic that popped up for week two of our writing project. I immediately feigned excitement and thought to myself, “What the hell am I going to write about?”

As I sit here writing, and grimacing, I still have no *bleeping* clue where to go with this post. I’ve let the question rattle in my brain for several weeks now, and I couldn’t begin to tell you how I plan on answering this question.

I think instead I will borrow some inspiration from my new tribe and just go random. After all, isn’t that what surfing the Net is about for most people?

To me, perusing the pages that make up the interwebs (I can’t believe I just used that word) is a topical activity. No, you don’t rub the www on your skin (unless you’re into that). Rather, what you surf, read, consume, share, bookmark, yell at, smirk over, and yes, blush about, is wholly predicated on the mood you’re in at the time you plop down in front of your browser.

Seriously, how can anyone have a favorite site? Of the gajillions of pages available to us (that’s only 47 for those of you reading this in China), how can anyone pick just one?

You would think as an Hispanic male I would default to the stereotype and select Street Cakes, but buttilliciousness aside, I think it’s crazy to try an narrow down the list of websites I enjoy frequenting to just one.

If it’s a big sports day, I head over to ESPN.com. If I am in the mood to catch up on world events, BBC.com is my news source of choice. Yes, much of my time is spent hitting Facebook, Google+, and Hootsuite, but that’s kinda’ like breathing for me. And I haven’t even mentioned GMail and Google Calendar. Yes, technically they’re web sites, but to me their life-essential tools that help keep the structure my OCD self so desperately requires.

If I need to escape from the mental rigors of work, I allow myself to get lost on FailBlog, FailBook, and other humor sites that make me feel better about myself as a moderately intelligent human being. Then, of course, there’s YouTube; the great black hole from which productive hours never escape.

They say variety is the spice of life, and the same applies to the Internet. Some days I use it to be productive. Other days I use it to be creative. And sometimes I let myself morph into a brainless zombie and just bounce from site to site to site. There’s a great joy to be found in the activity of just random surfing.

Do I have a favorite site? No. Of course not. It’s impossible. But if I *HAD* to choose one, well …. I guess it would have to be this one.

The Power to Enable Dreams

2011-09-22T07:12:00.000-07:00

I don’t normally do my blog posts on the fly. I usually have some semblance of a plan, then I open up MS Word and I start typing. This post I am writing directly into the text field of my blog site because that’s how quickly I want to get it published.

We all have our individual definitions of what power is. Some people seek physical power. Others seek political power. Yet, inside us all we possess the power of giving. Be it a smile, be it a gesture, be it a dollar; giving of yourself to or for someone else can be the most powerful thing in the world.

My friends Stacey Monk and Sanjay Patel, founders of Epic Change and two of the most giving and selfless people I know, are requesting the help of the power that lies in you. In summary, we’re looking to provide a special graduation gift to one boy and one girl from the first ever graduation class of Shephard’s Junior Primary School in Tanzania.

Mind you, this is not just any school. Shephard’s started as the dream of Mama Lucy and was built out of the love and generosity of so many people from all over the world. Now we’re asking for you to help enable the dreams of two young students who aspire for so much in life.

Please follow this link to read Stacey’s personal appeal for this effort, and you can make a quick and easy donation using the PayPal widget on her page. The power to make someone’s dream come true is something you possess, and no amount it too small. Thank you.

When Others Don’t Believe In You

2011-09-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

In an effort to write with greater frequency, my friends and I came up with the idea of pooling our collective brain power and writing once a week about various and random topics. The idea is that we’d each take a day of the week and publish our unique stab at the issue at hand. Thus, Random Writers was born.

We wrote down a list of things about which we’d like to ponder, discuss, and write. Then we took each item and selected at random, of course, 15 topics to cover each week through the rest of the year.

I was confidently blasé with our first topic: How do you deal with people who don’t believe in you? “That’s easy,” I told myself. “Two words: *bleep* you!” Really, why would I care if someone doesn’t believe in me? As far as I’m concerned, it’s *SHRUG* and move on.

The more I pondered it, however, the more I realized it’s not that easy. To just write off those who don’t believe in me is to grossly simplify the issue, and one of the purposes of the vehicle that is Random Writers is to provide depth and perspective; to flesh out in written word the questions and topics that may weigh us down at times.

I thought and thought and thought, and I kept finding myself striking out in terms of how to best answer the question. I searched through my past for examples of people who didn’t believe in me, and I had a tough time coming up with an instance that was applicable. I thought about how I would respond today if someone didn’t believe in me, and just like that, the answer presented itself. Well, part of the answer at least.

As a result of my internal deliberations, I discovered that how I would respond to such a situation is completely a matter of proximity.

There’s a saying. “If you want to be successful, surround yourself with smart people. If you want to be really successful, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you.” I’ve tried to apply that in my life. I like to look at my collection of friends – my extended family, if you will – and see there are no idiots in the bunch. Sure, we’ve all had our idiotic moments – I myself am at the forefront of that list – but all in all, those that fill my life with love and support are smart, intelligent, and giving people.

As with most things, there are degrees.

There are casual acquaintances. You know, the ones you wave hello to from across the room and sometimes have a tough time remembering their names. There are also friends you know and have hung out with, but you see them few and far between, and the friendship is mostly confined to exchanging comments on Facebook or Twitter. Then there are good friends you invite to special occasions like weddings or holiday parties. And then I have my core, inner-circle friends. These are the people I’d call first if there were an emergency or crisis in my life.

The closer someone is to that inner-circle, the more I value their thoughts, feedback, and, most importantly, their opinion of me. This is what I mean by proximity. I couldn’t care less if an acquaintance of mine didn’t believe in me, but I would be quite devastated if one my core friends didn’t believe in my ability to accomplish something I set out to do. Same thing if they completely dismissed an idea or dream of mine. Because I hold in such high regard those that make up my core circle of friends, their doubt in me would in turn lead me to doubt myself.

The other part of my answer came to me in a dream, and I truly believe it was God helping me find what I needed in order to write this post. In my dream, I was living alone in an apartment and all my neighbors hated me. They wanted me to move out and they would remind of this on a daily basis by leaving boxes and other moving materials at my doorstep. I remember feeling angry and thinking how wrong they were. I remember promising myself in my dream that I would not move. Whatever it took and no matter how hard they made it, I was staying.

What that translates to for me is resolve. I am sure I will encounter many naysayers in my life as I pursue projects or ideas or help others in their own endeavors. I’ve learned the answer is not to simply dismiss them with a “*bleep* you”, but rather to look them in the eye and say, “Just watch.”

Be resolved in your pursuits and let determination be your fuel. Couple that with keeping an open ear to the counsel of those you trust and respect, and success is sure to follow.

Please be sure to check out Jeff Smith‘s take on this question as he covers this topic in his blog on Tuesday.

Evolving Perspective

2011-09-13T21:17:00.000-07:00

So it feels like months have passed since I last blogged from my hotel room in Kingston, New York. It’s been a whirlwind three weekssince I came back from work stoppage duty in upstate New York, and I honestlydon’t even know where to begin.

I surprised my daughter by picking her up at school (Ihad not told her I was coming back), then Lee and I took the next day off workand spent some serious time catching up (yes, that IS what the kids are callingit these days), and then it was back to the ‘real world’ and easing back intomy daily work routine.

There’s been soccer practices and helping the kids withtheir homework. There’s been catching up on all work projects that were on holdbecause of the work stoppage. There have been get-togethers at our friends’house for football, BBQ, and beer. Football season is once again upon us, andit feels so good to have that diversion back in my life every weekend.

It’s all starting to feel normal again.

But this past weekend has challenged my perception andunderstanding of what normal is. This past weekend reminded me of the burningideas and passions inside of me, and that greatness is oftentimes not found innormalcy.

I had the extraordinary privilege of taking part in athree day brainstorming session for Epic Change. It was an experience that leftme inspired to say the least, and got the creative juices flowing in terms ofwhat we can do to affect positive change in the world. Yes, the world. Not justmy neighborhood, not just my city, not just my state; but rather this nicelittle place we call planet Earth.

Although both big ideas and even bigger challenges cameout of our summit meeting, so did the reminder that through love just aboutanything is possible. That got me thinking of what it is that truly geeks meout (or more eloquently stated, gets me off). The reality is the answer to thatquestion is not found in the 8 – 5 mundane world of my current professionalcareer. So much so that I had a conversation with my boss today about how I don’tsee myself in my current role long term. As much as I would like to stay withmy current employer, for both financial and logistical reasons, I can hear thegrumblings inside my head telling me it’s time for a change.

Of course, these grumblings don’t pay the rent, don’tprovide the health insurance, and don’t grant me the flexibility to work fromhome. Making a change, as enticing an idea as that is right now, can also be overwhelminggiven the state of our current economy, not to mention my current debt toincome situation.

So I am resolved to make the best of the situation and tryto change the world – or at the least play my small part in doing so – one actionat a time. Through service to others, through the donation of my writingtalents, through the giving of my time and resources; it all begins with loveand the burning desire to make better that which is in front of us.

Over the course of the next several months, you may see avarying array of blog posts from me on this site. It’s all part of a journey Ihave decided to take with my friends as we set out to generate love and make adifference in the lives of others. I invite you to come along for the ride. Becareful, however. It’s my understanding inspiration can be quite contagious.

Dude, I Just Work Here – Days 8 - 10

2011-08-17T21:03:00.000-07:00

The following is a recap of my adventures and experiences while out on business continuity assignment for my employer. In brief summary, there is currently a work stoppage on the part of union employees in the Northeast region. As a result, I’ve been assigned to travel to the upstate New York and perform some of the duties of the striking employees.
My goal is to make this a running blog and post as often as possible.

(August 15-17, 2011)

Thanks, Partner
With the arrival of the additional non-union employees, my work partner and I knew things were going to change. Fortunately for us, only two of the five scheduled escorts were there and ready for work on the morning of Day 8. This meant my partner and I got to roll in our van together one last time.

It was somewhat of a bittersweet workday for us. To summarize what I’ve said before, no one has any idea why we’re being asked to go out with ‘escorts’ that have zero training in the work we’re doing, but since that is an issue we cannot remedy, we simply have to make the most of it. With that in mind, my partner and I kicked butt and took names with our job, and we closed out all the trouble issues assigned to us that day.

The Freshmen
Although we’d been there a whopping nine days, there was a funny feeling the morning of Day 9 between us and the new escorts that arrived. We felt like college Seniors giving incoming Freshmen their orientation. “This is what you’re gonna’ want to do. This is what you’re NOT gonna’ want to do. And under any circumstances, don’t you dare ”

It’s not that we’re any kind of subject matter experts or anything like that, but it is true to say the previous week felt like several months, and we all felt we had a plethora of knowledge and insight we had to transfer to our new team members. A couple of them looked at us in disbelief as we retold stories of things that happened the week before, and it seemed that every other sentence ended with the phrase, “Just be thankful you’re here in Kingston and not in the city.”

New Beginnings
With my work partner and I being split up, Day 9 saw me roll out not only with a new partner, but also in a new truck. Gone was the nice van I’d been driving, the one my previous partner and I called Milagro because it was a miracle we were assigned to a location like Kingston. Instead, my new partner and I rolled out in an old, GMC bucket truck (the work trucks with the extending arms in the back which is attached to a bucket). I decided I would name the truck Gerry … as in geriatric … as in the truck handles like a tank with Parkinson’s. Not to mention no air conditioning in our new ride. This is not a problem when it’s 80 degrees outside, but it is a problem when it starts to rain.

My first experience with the bucket truck took my new partner and me out to a remote area outside of Kingston. The terminal I needed to look was on a pole that sat about fifteen feet from the edge of street. The advantage of the bucket truck is you don’t have to use the ladder to get up the pole. This saves time and energy and makes getting to the terminal a million times easier. The problem with the truck is you need to make sure the truck is on an even surface. In the theoretical, if you extend the arm of the truck out in the same direction of the slope on which the truck is parked, the entire vehicle can flip. Given the truck was at a slant beyond the acceptable limits, I was not at all about to test out that theory

I ended up moving the truck to the center of the road (on the double yellow line) while my partner stood and waved traffic through. This is a bit of a misnomer given the area at which we were working was very remote, and if we saw more than ten cars go by in the ninety minutes we were there, that number would have been a lot. The problem with having moved truck to the middle of the road was the arm now did not reach to the pole. This meant I would have to climb the pole. Luckily, however, the pole had step climbers, and this prevented me from having to take down the ladder, carry it, secure it, etc. Still, climbing up that pole was a little more challenging than I had imagined, and since some of the steps were missing as I got to the top of the pole. This meant shifting my weight and getting comfortable in my safety belt was a lot more difficult and cumbersome that it had been in training.

The moral of the story is no matter how you think you’re going to approach resolving a problem, you always need to be prepared to tackle it from a different angle. Such is the life a telephone repair man.

Serious R&R
Day 10 brought me my first day off since this work stoppage began. My former partner and I planned to take in as tourists many of the sites and locations we’d only been able to see driving to and from various job sites. God must have really been looking out for us on Day 10. Whereas the previous days were filled with grey skies and rain, Day 10 was a picture-perfect.

We started off by driving to Woodstock, walking around the town, take some pictures, and doing some shopping. We coincidentally met up with a team of our peers that was out there working on an issue, and we all grabbed lunch together. From there, my former partner and I proceeded to the small town of Phoenicia. There we were able to check out the rapids of the creek that runs through the town, as well as take some more pictures.

More importantly, it was a great mental break from the rigors of the work assignment. For one beautiful, sunshine-filled day, we did not have to worry about work orders, cross boxes, twisted pairs, dial tone, ladders, poles, or NID’s. For one day, we could just relax and breathe and enjoy the reprieve.

As Day 10 came to a close, the memories of the day off became bittersweet as I knew it would be another month-long week (at least) before I’d be able to enjoy that again. Here’s hoping that time flies regardless of whether or not I’m having fun.

Gerry

Damn. I make this look easy.

Dude, I Just Work Here – Days 6 - 7

2011-08-14T21:40:00.001-07:00

The following is a recap of my adventures and experiences while out on business continuity assignment for my employer. In brief summary, there is currently a work stoppage on the part of union employees in the Northeast region. As a result, I’ve been assigned to travel to the upstate New York and perform some of the duties of the striking employees.
My goal is to make this a running blog and post as often as possible.

(August 13-14, 2011)

50/50 Day
Day 6 proved to be both a good and bad day. From a work perspective, my partner and I resolved every issue assigned to us. Achieving a 100% closure rate was very satisfying, especially when one of the fixes meant having to venture to the Central Office and resolve the issue there. It was literally an on-the-job training experience, and I admit it was as much luck as it was skill to fix the issue. Still, the end result from the eyes of the customer is the same.

Having had such great success with our efforts, my partner and I were eager to get out there on Day 7 and tackle some more trouble reports. The excitement of the moment was lost, however, when we returned back to the garage on Day 6 and were given the news additional non-union employees will be joining us this upcoming week. This was not received well by us since we’ve already established a rapport with our respective partners, and having to change all that up in the next couple of days will be quite disruptive.

Like communism, I guess I understand the concept on paper. If you take the number of teams going out to the customers and double them, the keystone being that no one can go out to a job site alone, then productivity should increase. However, to have other management employees accompany us – none of which are trained at all for installation and maintenance – will only serve to decrease productivity. It’s been a challenge for us this past week, as two-person teams, both trained in copper installation and maintenance, to figure out some of the problems we’ve been assigned. To ask us to tackle those same issues with someone who is there literally to just sit with us, I don’t see how that is designed to help our customers.

So whereas before the conflict us employees on assignment faced was with picketing union members, now it feels like we’re getting slammed from the other side by our executive management. I’ve always wondered about the force field that surrounds our headquarters in Basking Ridge, New Jersey. It’s a shield through which every day common sense does not penetrate. I guess this happens often in all large corporations, but it seems that rather than reach out to the garages and sample what’s actually happening, a decision is made unilaterally and applied as a one-size-fits-all solution to help.

I know the company is trying. I know they’re looking to help and protect those employees in the big cities having to deal with hellish behavior on a daily basis. I understand the intent is good. But speaking specifically for the garage to which I’m assigned, it’s going to suck. Not to mention that not everyone currently here is trained the same. My partner is not certified to work aloft (carry large ladders, climb a pole, etc.). Us being team together is perfect because I get to do that work while she’s either interfacing with the customer or communicating our information back to our dispatch center. Now that we’re being split up, I have no idea how that’s going to work.

Niagara Falls
From Kingston, New York, it’s about four and a half to five hours to Niagara Falls. On the evening of Day 6, I had Niagara on my face. For the first time since I’ve been here, being away from my family really got to me. Depressed, sad, lonely, angry, confused, anxious; it was a multitude of feelings that was overwhelming me all at once.

I’ve been away from my wife and my kids for a week before, but the circumstances surrounding this time apart are so very different. Before, there was a known end date. We all knew that come a certain date we’d see each other again. With this work stoppage assignment, there is no known end date. There is no telling if I’ll be here for a couple more days, for several weeks, or even for months.

I think it was the buildup of that great unknown that finally made me breakdown on Day 6. Come next week I will be missing soccer games as well as the back to school period for my kids. I will most social likely miss events to which I had originally committed to attend. It’s the not knowing how this is going to play out that just hit like a ton of bricks.

Learning from a Pro
On Day 7, It came to my attention the only thing worse than having to deal with an irate customer is trying to fix the problem of a former employee who used to do the work I am attempting to do now. It’s not an anger or attitude issue. Rather, it’s a matter of knowing if you do something wrong, that person will immediately know you’re doing something wrong. That was the situation that Sunday morning.

Our customer was a former engineer with Verizon who happened to work as a copper wire installer and repair person during the last strike, and I am sure he’s forgotten more about telephone support than I’ll ever know. During his time as a replacement worker, this customer reported to the same person who is now my current works stoppage supervisor. Armed with this information, we knew the problem was NOT going to be at the customer’s premise.

Our customer could not have been more cordial and friendly. From the moment we met him, he took charge in explaining the issue, where he thought the issue might be, and how we should go about fixing it. He even told us the location of the cross box that served the vicinity. After a couple of minutes of pleasantries, my partner and I made our way down to the cross box. We quickly found the customer’s line, but due to a mistake I was making in interpreting the information - I was reversing in my head the flow of service - we ended up troubleshooting the problem incorrectly and did not make any progress.

After about 45 minutes, our customer showed up at the cross box and once again took over the scene. I explained what we were trying to do, and he explained where it was I had erred in my analysis. We identified possible solutions and spelled out a game plan to get him back into service. We returned to his premise as the solution required me to climb the pole in front of his house and make some changes to the terminal. Once again our customer took over, helping me set up my ladder and giving me pointers on how to work with that specific terminal, etc.

Unfortunately, we were unable to resolve his issue that day. Per safety procedure, we’re required to check every pole we climb for the presence of high voltage. There’s a special tool we use to do that, and if the light goes red, we’re to climb down and report the issue to our supervisor. I desperately wanted to resolve this customer’s issue, and I knew we could do it given our game plan, but you don’t mess around with high voltage. My partner and I are keeping this order in our queue until the power company can clear the voltage issue on that pole. Once they do, we will be back out to the site to restore service for that customer.

Two Different Worlds
I spoke to a good friend of mine from Tampa who is also assigned to business continuity work. We exchanged stories about our experience with picketers, and it was clear to see our experiences are completely different. Whereas the union folks here have, for the most part, left us alone to do our jobs, the non-union employees in and around the major, metropolitan area continue to be berated and verbally assault. My friend told me horror story after horror story, and apparently the union is supposed to ‘step it up’ on Day 8 of the strike. Add the scent of the fresh meat that is the escorts and I am sure the morning of Day 8 is going to be interesting.

I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Dude, I Just Work Here - Days 4 - 5

2011-08-12T20:51:00.000-07:00

The following is a recap of my adventures and experiences while out on business continuity assignment for my employer. In brief summary, there is currently a work stoppage on the part of union employees in the Northeast region. As a result, I’ve been assigned to travel to the upstate New York and perform some of the duties of the striking employees.
My goal is to make this a running blog and post as often as possible.

(August 11 - 12, 2011)

Change of Pace
What a difference 72 hours makes. Whereas the general attitude on Day 1 amongst the non-union employees assigned work stoppage duty was one of concern and fear, Day 4 for us was calm and cool. For the first time this week, we were not followed by any union workers. Having had a positive experience with our ‘fan club’ on Day 3, I wasn’t overly concerned about being followed on Day 4. Still, there was a giant sense of relief – almost a sense of normalcy – to be able to drive out to our job site without having to worry about a trail car.

It’s About the Customers
There are many cons and very few pros about this assignment. I really hate being away from my kids. I miss my wife greatly. There’s also the fun, silly and ridiculous little things I’m missing, too. I’d been working for weeks to get my pool at home back to perfect in terms of water clarity. I spent part of the Saturday before I left treating the pool, cleaning the filter, etc. My wife tells me it’s now crystal clear, and I’m all the way up here unable to enjoy it. Also, my mother-in-law lives with us, and it’s truly a blessing to have her around. Yet, it does result in the hindrance to ‘spontaneous romantic moments’ between my wife and me. My mother-in-law is going out of town for a couple of days. In a million ways, having to be on work stoppage duty really sucks.

Still, there are moments when being here is truly rewarding. On Day 4, we drove out to a customer site. The trouble ticket read the customer did not have dial tone, was an elderly customer, and it was also flagged as being a critical issue given the customer’s age and their inability to dial 911 in the event of an emergency. When we arrived to the customer’s site, we were greeted by a handsome, elderly gentleman who was very happy to see us. The look on his face was one of joyous relief.

I couldn’t help but gravitate towards the man. He was well dressed (unfortunately on his way to a funeral), elegant, and had a ‘Burt Lancaster in Field of Dreams’ type of appeal to him. I explained how we were prepared to troubleshoot his service, and I pledged to myself at that moment I was going to get his service restored. My partner and I worked our way from the premise back to the box that connects the customers’ lines to the Verizon central office (cross box). Along the way we noticed the aerial terminal for our customer was just dangling from the span. We set up the ladder, climbed up, cleared up the branches and debris that cluttered the terminal, and re-hung it from the span. Unfortunately, the problem was not there. What was cool is that our customer passed us on the way out, and his wife lowered her window, thanked us for looking into the problem, and said, “I hope this strike ends soon.” She was so loving in her delivery and it made us both feel deeply appreciated.

Once we were done with the aerial terminal, we headed to the cross box. Turns out the simple piece of copper wire that connects one end of the phone circuit to the other was disconnected. We connected the line to the respective posts in the cross box and confirmed dial tone on the line. We doubled back to the customer’s house and confirmed dial tone there as well. We even called the customer’s number and could hear the phone ringing in the house.

The sense of satisfaction is hard to describe. There’s just something very cool about being able to resolve a customer’s issue. It’s just one of those things where someone asks you for help and you’re able to deliver. It’s so much more than a company helping a paying customer. It’s creating goodness with your time and skills for another person. It’s awesomeness.

I Don’t Get It
On Day 5 my partner and I had another similar experience with a customer. She was reporting a bad hum on her line. The problem was with the drop wire coming from the telephone pole to her property. It had fallen and come undone from her two-story house. My partner and I re-attached the line, made sure it was not only correctly connected but also aesthetically pleasing, and finished the job which resulted in another satisfied customer.

In both of the cases above, the root cause of the issue has me baffled. Customer lines don’t simply become disconnected at a cross box. In the case of the drop wire, what I thought was caused by a fallen limb, etc. seemed to be a result of manual intervention. Both cases left me deeply suspicious that they were a result of a deliberate attempt to disrupt service to our customers, and the more jobs I work, the more it seems there’s a weird pattern to the issues being reported.

Let me be clear. I am not making accusations. My suspicion could simply be a matter of me not having done this type of work before, and it’s possible these things happen with more frequency than I am aware. Still, when you read news reports of deliberate sabotage on the part of the union and you couple that with the open hostility that’s been displayed in the large cities by striking employees, it’s only natural to think many of these issues to which we’re responding are an elaborate way for the union to simply fuck with us.

Assuming that is the case, I just don’t get it. These are people who make a living in providing service to customers. So the solution to resolve a dispute between them and their employer is to disrupt the very customers they’ve been servicing for years? If anything, one would assume it would be the opposite. Why bite the hand that feeds you? Why try to anger your customer base to a point where they’d no longer want to be your customer and leave for a competitor? If that were to happen, what job would be left once all the customers are gone? It’s the antithesis of self preservation, and I just don’t get it at all.

Praying
I pray every day this dispute is resolved quickly. As I’ve said before, this is not my fight, yet for some reason I’m here caught in the middle of it. I’m missing my daughter’s soccer matches. I miss playing video games with my son. I’m missing waking up each morning with my wife. I miss being able to hang out with my friends and neighbors at home. I’d like to say the resolve of the union is waning (it sure feels like it is here at my location). In fact, the only time I was called a scab on Day 5 was by one of the managers in our garage. He was doing it in jest as he happened to be standing outside the garage as we were pulling into the building. It was funny and I think even the two or three union people who were still there got a chuckle out of it. Unfortunately, things aren’t quite as chipper in places like New York City, New Jersey, and Boston. My peers in those cities are the ones that really need this whole fiasco to come to a speedy conclusion. And from what I’ve been hearing, they need a stiff drink, too. Here’s hoping we all get to go home very soon.

Dude, I Just Work Here - Day 3

2011-08-10T21:39:00.000-07:00

The following is a recap of my adventures and experiences while out on business continuity assignment for my employer. In brief summary, there is currently a work stoppage on the part of union employees in the Northeast region. As a result, I’ve been assigned to travel to the upstate New York and perform some of the duties of the striking employees.
My goal is to make this a running blog and post as often as possible.

(August 10, 2011)

That’s So Yesterday
As Day 3 began, it did so with my resolve burning. No longer was I going to allow these union employees to intimidate me and make me feel uncomfortable. My partner and I decided that instead of taking the trail cars for a ride - all the while wasting our time and preventing us from providing service to our customers - we were going to go directly to the site of the job we did not get to finish the day before. The plan was not so much a matter of me growing a pair overnight as it was knowing the location was up in the mountain, required a fairly lengthy drive to get there, and we would be protected by the 45 feet of driveway onto the customer’s property. The union picketers can follow us to our site and picket our work, but they cannot do so on the customer’s private property. Going directly to the site was a calculated move on our part.

CWA = Creepy Worker Association?
I will say there was a sense of “bring it on” as we left the garage to our work site. This was a result of the union sending their workers to our respective hotels in order to follow us and, I assume, intimidate us from the very beginning of the day. This was just unacceptable as far as we were concerned. It’s one thing to bother us once we’re on the clock and actually working for the company they’re fighting against, but to harass us at our hotel is just bad form.

One of my teammates, who is unfortunately staying at a separate hotel - by herself - was followed in to work by union employees. I can only imagine what this woman must have been thinking and feeling as two strangers were, in effect, stalking her on her way to work. I would have been terrified and pissed beyond belief. Let’s put it this way, if I were home and my wife were on a work stoppage assignment , and she called me with a story like that, I’d be on the next plane and the situation would end with me going to jail and the union guys going to the hospital. Again, totally unacceptable.

We didn’t have that problem. There’s a group of us staying in the same hotel and we’re all carpooling into work. On Tuesday, one of my peers drove and we went in the RAM 1500 my other peer had rented. Later that day, we all agreed we’d take my rental car on Wednesday. After having run to grab dinner late Tuesday evening, I came back to find the parking lot of my hotel full, and I ended up having to park on the other side of the building. On Wednesday morning, the union guys, whom we had no idea would be there, were waiting by the pickup truck. As it turns out, we all exited the other side of the hotel, piled into my rental, and left. As we were leaving, we noticed the guys in the red shirts. “Those aren’t union guys, are they?” We weren’t sure but it quickly dawned on us that if they were, they were waiting for us to come out to the truck. Through our laughter, I could hear my peer saying, “So long, suckers!”

Putting It Into Practice
I can honestly say Day 3 was a good day. We got some work done and managed to close out three of our orders (which is a good number given the circumstances of what we’re dealing with). We’re not entirely efficient, but with every day there’s a greater sense of familiarity and understanding of what to look for, how to troubleshoot it, and how to eventually resolve it. What also made the day great is that I actually go to put into practice the things I was taught in training over six weeks ago, specifically climbing a telephone pole using a ladder. Completing this task under normal circumstances is an effort unto itself. There’s a procedure to removing the ladder from the van. There’s a procedure for carrying the ladder. There’s a procedure for setting, raising, and securing the ladder. All these procedures exist for safety reasons, and they all take time. Add on the facts A) I was trying to recall so much of it from memory, B) the pole on which I’d be working was located one hundred feet into a wooded area full of shrubs, vines, and tall grass, and C) there was the added pressure or the picketing union employees watching my every move, what should have taken twenty or so minutes took about an hour.

Thankfully there was a moment of comic reprieve. My partner is Cuban and I am Cuban-American. In order to clear out the shrubbery and brush, we had to use a machete - yes, I said machete - that was in the van. As I’m whacking away at the foliage, I said to my teammate, “Two Cubans with a machete in the woods. How *bleeping* cliché is this?”

Once everything was set up, it was almost exhilarating to climb up the ladder and work on the aerial terminal the fed the customer’s home. I did my testing and trouble shooting, and I felt so comfortable up there, I had forgotten I was over twenty five feet off the ground.

Redemption?
I find my outlook and perspective towards the striking union workers having shifted. This is due largely to the fact that as I was setting up my ladder, one of the union employees suggested I set my ladder a little further back for safety reasons. He stated my ladder was too steep and I needed more incline. He also later provided additional instructions regarding the securing of the ladder to the pole.

I was shocked by his willingness to give me pointers, as well as what appeared to me to be genuine concern for my well being. Once I finished my work and returned my ladder and tools to my van, I walked over to the gentleman and thanked him in person. We shared a brief conversation and he was very cordial in his tone and demeanor. This was not the same tone and demeanor we’d seen just a couple of hours earlier as we left the garage. Gone was the venom in his words. Absent was the vitriol in the language he used. Instead, he was clear to state that he did not like nor appreciate the fact we were there doing the work, yet he understood the situation we’re in, and the last thing he wanted is for one of us to get hurt on a job. In return, I, too, empathized with the position they were in, and I explained I’d much rather be at home with my family than performing business continuity work.

The best way to describe the exchange was professional and filled with mutual respect. I do like to think, however, that his watching me setup the ladder, climb the pole, and work on the terminal allowed me to earn a measure of respect in his eyes. Rather than wimping out, I went out and got the job done.

Playing the Part
It turns out I have a lot more in common with the union employees than I had thought. Speaking specifically about the group protesting outside our garage, it’s become apparent the majority of them share the same sentiment as the gentleman with whom I conversed. They don’t necessarily want to be out in the sun or rain walking around in circles, blowing their whistles, and holding signs. Still, they have to in order to be paid by the union. They also have to play the part of irate union person in order to stay in the good graces of the union higher-ups.

This reveals to me that the loud, obnoxious, and rude protestors are really the vocal minority of the organization. Not everyone in a red shirt ‘hates me’, but rather they greatly dislike what I represent in terms of the company’s solution to the work stoppage. They also admitted - through surreptitious back channels, of course - they have no intention of causing any harm to anyone.

This really made me feel a lot better and a lot safer than I did just 48 hours earlier. It’s a shame that a select few force all others on strike to be so adversarial and uncompromising. Assholes will be assholes, I guess. The good news is going forward I will not feel the level of anxiety I did on Days 1 and 2, and less anxiety is always a good thing.

Dude, I Just Work Here - Day 2

2011-08-09T21:25:00.001-07:00

The following is a recap of my adventures and experiences while out on business continuity assignment for my employer. In brief summary, there is currently a work stoppage on the part of union employees in the Northeast region. As a result, I’ve been assigned to travel to the upstate New York and perform some of the duties of the striking employees.
My goal is to make this a running blog and post as often as possible.

(August 9, 2011)

Not This Again
Day 2 of my work stoppage assignment was not unlike Day 1. We were greeted at the garage by a collection of picketing union workers, and we were once again delayed from actually entering the garage by picketers walking very casually and slowly in the middle of the street.

Once we were inside, we received our jobs for the day and headed out. Once again we started being tailed by union guys in a car. Once again we decide to employ our ‘drive for miles’ tactic. The resolve of our shadow team, however, did not falter. My partner and I drove for over 120 miles with no avail. These guys would just not quit. I can, however, say that downtown Albany - yes, Albany - is actually quite nice, and the architecture there is stunning.

Resigned to the fact there was no way to lose our tail, my partner and I decided enough was enough and we set the GPS to our customer’s location. Immediately the butterflies from Monday morning were back. The idea of leading a group of loud and visible protestors to a customer’s house made me sick. My anxiety shot through the roof, and I was feeling queasy as we exited the interstate. It’s bad enough to have to deal with the verbal abuse, the taunts, and the glares from the union people, but to take that crap to the customer’s doorstep is, in my opinion, out of bounds.

Mysterious Ways
The GPS was trying to locate our position as we exited the interstate, which just so happens to exit traffic into a rotunda. Not knowing exactly which way to go, I stayed with the easier flow and went right. It was at that moment the GPS kicked in and advised us we should have gone left. “Dammit!” I thought. “This whole situation is going from bad to worse.”

I pulled into an open parking lot and did a casual loop to turn around and get back to the main road, this time heading in the correct direction. As I circled around our trail car also had to do the same. Serendipitously, there was a third car leaving the parking lot at the same time, and it happened to find its way between our van and the trail car. As I looked up, I noticed the light for us was green. “No way! Really?” I said out loud. With about 20 feet to the intersection, the light turned yellow. My partner sat up in her seat. “Go! Go! Go!” she exclaimed. I punched the accelerator and sure enough we made the light while our shadow was left in waiting.

The feelings of nausea and anxiety were immediately replaced with those of relief and celebration. We lost them! After two and a half hours of crazy, monotonous driving, we were finally free. Not five minutes earlier I had made a commented we had won Day 1 of this game the union was choosing to play, and it seemed Day 2 would go to the team dressed in red. Losing our tail at the light was akin to Flutie’s Hail Mary pass from 1984. It was miraculous, last second win.

I also have to mention that as we exited the interstate, I said a little prayer asking God to please, please, please show us a way out of the mess I felt we were heading towards. It turns out the mix up with the GPS and going the wrong way actually ended up being the right way after all. He really does work in mysterious ways, and His grace can only be described as awesome.

A Little Better
Once we were able to carry on with our work, my partner and I found we were able to do it a little better than we did on Day 1. There were still challenges we had to face, not to mention delays as a result of the torrential rain the passed over the Kingston area, but as with all things, we felt our confidence increase as we went from job to job. We know this will continue to trend in the positive, and assuming we’re still here next week, there’s no doubt in my mind the daily tasks will feel very commonplace for us.

Getting back to the worksite was also much better than it was on Day 1. Thanks to the aforementioned downpour, many of the picketers had dispersed by the time we made it back to the garage. The few union folk that remained seemed almost indifferent to us and they somewhat solemnly moved out of the way so we could pull in.

In speaking with non-union workers who work with those that are currently on strike, it turns out the majority of them really prefer not to have to go out and picket. In many ways, they’re in the same situation I’m in of having to go do a job out of requirement. I can only imagine the repercussions they’d face if they did not show up to picket and protest, and if there’s any empathy from me to them, it’s to the union employees that would much rather be back at work than losing a paycheck and standing out there in the rain for hours upon hours.

Soap Box
That being said, there still remains the small, vocal minority that thrives on times like these. As someone put it, it’s the people that are normally assholes being given the opportunity to be justified assholes. And speaking collectively, I’m completely baffled by the tactics being employed by the CWA. In addition to picketing in front of a garage where there’s very little through traffic (i.e. you picket to bring attention to your cause, and if there’s no one there to see you, it’s no different than picketing in the middle of an empty field), the union is also asking customers to boycott the company.

So let me get this straight. Employee of Company A is asking the customers of Company A to boycott the company and switch to the competitor that is Company B. They want this so they can keep as-is their current jobs with Company A. My question is, if all the customers are now with Company B, what job is there to do in Company A? Seems to me CWA should stand for ‘Currently Without Aptitude’. Their logic is simply illogical.

As for their tactic of following us to our job sights, the cloud of intimidation has lifted and I see more clearly that those guys following us don’t really care to be there either. They’re pretty much going through the motions. One of the guys on my team went so far as to tell his tail, “Listen, guys. There’s nobody out here, so if you want to take off, we won’t mention anything to the other union guys.” It’s just a game for them, one that reminds me of the old ‘Wolf and Sheepdog’ cartoons. In fact, the next time I see the picketers, which I will from now on refer to affectionately as ‘my fan club’, I think I just may look them in the eye and say, “Good morning, Ralph. Have a good day.”

Dude, I Just Work Here - Day 1

2011-08-08T22:56:00.000-07:00

The following is a recap of my adventures and experiences while out on business continuity assignment for my employer. In brief summary, there is currently a work stoppage on the part of union employees in the Northeast region. As a result, I’ve been assigned to travel to the upstate New York and perform some of the duties of the striking employees.

My goal is to make this a running blog and post as often as possible.

(August 8, 2011)

Get ‘Em Flying In Alignment
Someone once said the trick to overcoming butterflies in your stomach is to get them to all fly in the same direction. I think the butterflies I had Monday morning were both high on crack and blind. It’s truly hard to put into words how uneasy and nerve wracking my first day of business continuity work was. There’s something very unsettling about driving to work and having complete strangers yell at you and call you names as you pull into the work location. Then, to have them do it all over again as I was heading out to my job assignment was just as bad, if not worse.

I’ve done many things in my life that I consider high-pressure, things that would cause the nerves to go into overdrive. I’ve even jumped out of a plane. Still, those were nothing compared to the nausea I was feeling at the thought of having to endure the taunts, yells, and vitriol that was eschewed by the angry mob of picketers. It was almost surreal.

Did We Lose ‘Em?
If having to creep our way through a picket line wasn’t bad enough - something we could not do if not for the local police explicitly telling the picketers to get out of the way - you can only image the flinches my bowl felt when I realized there was a car full of striking employees following me to my work assignment. “Are you F’n kidding me?” I said to myself. We had discussed the possibility of such a tactic, but to see it put into practice made an already surreal experience feel that much more incredulous. I didn’t like the idea of showing up to a customer’s location and having a car full of extremely vocal and adamant individuals yell, picket, and protest. If the tactic was designed to instill fear and intimidation on the part of the target, then mission accomplished.
Using our own ‘drive for miles’ tactic, we were finally able to lose our shadow. After all, there were four or five individuals in the car that was tailing us. Eventually one of them had to take a nature break. Still, for the rest of the day I was über-suspicious of any car that ended up behind my work van. When I’d see them turn on their blinker to pass me or turn off onto another road, my assignment partner and I would breathe a huge sigh of relief.

Damn You Larry and Sergey
Finally able to head out to our job assignments, our focus turned to the GPS function on my Android phone. What I’ve come to realize is that as awesome and enormous as Google is, their GPS navigation feature is not entirely 100% accurate. I know this because we ended up driving up a dirt/rock road that snaked its way to the top of mountain. Okay, it was probably a hill, but I’ve lived at or below sea level my entire life. To me it was a mountain.

If you’ve never driven up Eagles Nest Road in Hurley (Kingston), NY, I suggest you do yourself the favor and skip the experience. To say it was a bit creepy was an understatement, and the fact it was an uneven road filled with rocks and potholes made for a horrible experience, especially in a van full of telephone repair gear. Our ride just rattled and rattled and rattled some more. I could not tell what was more aggravating; the loudness of our van given all its rattling or the aforementioned striking employees. My partner tried to find the silver lining in our misadventure. “At least they won’t find us here,” she said, referring to the union employees that had followed us earlier in the day. “That’s what I’m afraid us,” I retorted, alluding to my hyper-active imagination and the thought of how our bodies would be easily disposed of following the ambush I was certain would take place.

OK. Now What?
Crash courses are called ‘crash’ for a reason. In preparation for this work stoppage, I was trained to do installation and maintenance work in five days. Yes, five days. At our first customer location (after we finally found it), we were able to evaluate the reported problem and perform our list of checks to try and isolate the problem. However, once we identified what the problem was, my partner and I were both unsure as to what the next step was. This was a unique circumstance that had not been covered in either of our training classes, and it was frustrating to not be able to resolve the customer’s issue right there on the spot. After a couple of phone calls, we were able to determine the proper step to take. Still, I’d been hoping for a successful completion of the job so that the customer would be satisfied and also so my partner and I could boost our confidence for the overall assignment. I guess that would just have to wait.

Not These Guys Again
Following the first of what will be many 12-hour work days, we pulled into our assigned work station only to be greeted once again by the yelling and screaming. This time, the belligerence level on the part of some of the union employees was even higher. Although I wasn’t rattled as much as before, it was still very difficult mentally and physically to edge my way through that small sea of individuals that were blocking my way.

Our attention quickly turned to the notion the protestors would follow us back to our respective hotels. After all, they would be seeing us pull out of the garage and could easily employ the tactic from earlier in the day. Fortunately for us, that did not happen at all. I just hope and pray they remain just as level headed for the duration of the strike with regards to not following us back ‘home’.

Was That This Morning?
As I joined some my peers for dinner following our first day, partial exhaustion kicked in. The day was so long and I was feeling so very tired. I thought back to when I met the other non-union employees on assignment with us. It had been only 13 hours earlier, but for some reason it felt like 3 days. The day had been so long and the reality set it that this was only day 1 of an assignment of unknown duration. “Holy crap,” I said. “This is going to be the longest week of my life.”

Mission Accomplished

2011-07-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

There we were, standing in the bed of a stranger’s pickup truck, staring at a plume of smoke that reached up to the heavens. We stood there in silence and waited. We counted silently to ourselves. “Any second now,” we said softly. Any second now I repeated to myself in my mind. Then we heard it. It was a roar unlike anything I’d heard before. It vanquished the silence. It shook the earth. It rattled my soul. It was an experience full of sound and fury, and it signified everything!

Last week, Lee and I ventured to Florida’s Space Coast to witness the launch of the Space Shuttle Atlantis and the historic closing of a space exploration program that began when I was a young boy. To see Atlantis blast off into space was, for the both of us, the culmination of many recent failed attempts, as well as a culmination of a lifetime of desire.

Since 2005, Lee and I have tried on several occasions to catch a launch in person. On our first attempt, we heard the launch had been scrubbed as we were driving through Orlando. That resulted in a fun-filled afternoon in Downtown Disney.

The next time was wholly spontaneous. Lee came home from work one afternoon and said to me, “Did you know there’s a shuttle launch tonight?” I told her I was vaguely aware of that fact. “You wanna’ go?” I jokingly said, “Sure.” “Okay. Let’s go then,” she said imperatively. “Wait. You’re serious?” Next thing I know, we’re driving along I-4 trying to figure out exactly where we need to go. Given this was well before the days of smart phones, I managed to take a ninety minute detour that left us literally running from the car to a spot where we could see the launch. Huffing and puffing as we finally found a suitable viewing location, we were filled with excitement as we overheard others counting down. Then, with forty seconds left, the launch was scrubbed.

Our third attempt was very more involved and planned out. However, like the two attempts that preceded, that one too yielded a failure to launch. (You can read the details of that adventure here).

It’s safe to say that in addition to the immense feeling of awe and amazement we felt as STS-135, the final of all shuttle flights, escaped Earth’s pull as it rocketed into space, Lee and I also felt a strong sense of resolution. For us, it was definitely ‘Mission Accomplished’ and it was another page in the book of blessings we’ve been able to share together.

Unlike the vacuum of space, for Lee and me there is no frontier that is final. As we walk together on this journey of life, every adventure completed and experience shared solidifies in both of us the knowledge that our partnership is meant to be. She and I make a good team, even when we have our personal moments of failure. It’s truly a blessing to have in my life a woman who allows my dreams to orbit the earth but also keeps my feet planted firmly on the ground.

PS. God speed to the crew of the Atlantis. Wishing them all a safe return home.

Father's Day Memorial

2011-06-19T07:53:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's been nearly seven years since my father passed. Although I get to celebrate this special day with my kids, Father's Day has seemed a bit hollow for me since I lost my dad, my hero, and my friend.

Below is a reposting of the eulogy I wrote for him. You can find the original posting here.

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We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of my father, John Robert Gonzalez. I like to think that we are not only here to grieve, but also to celebrate the life of a man many people knew simply as Johnny. From his brothers and sisters in Mexico and present here today, to Pascuale Cafiero, his dear friend and fellow Longshoreman in Brooklyn, to the members of Corpus Christi Parish, Johnny was always larger than life in his own way. And even though the sickness to which he eventually succumbed physically left him a shadow of his former self, nothing can ever reduce the man that was Johnny.

Johnny was by no means perfect, his many flaws a product of the old-school, blue-collar world in which he grew up. Yet despite his flaws, Johnny was loved by all who knew him. As a worker, Johnny redefined the concept of work ethic and was not happy unless he was doing something. He realized that corners were made for placing your drink and not for the cutting. As a friend, he was known for his selflessness. The first to offer a helping hand, Johnny was the last person to ever ask for assistance. As a military veteran, he served his country in order to support his family back in Mexico. As a loving husband, he would be the first to tell you that my mother was the best thing to ever happen to him. As a father he worked tirelessly to ensure we had a roof over our heads, food on our table and most importantly, an education for our future success. He taught us to trust implicitly, allowing us to jump from the second story of my grandmother’s apartment building. I knew full well he would always catch me, and like so many other situations in my life, he never let me fall.

Johnny was loved despite his flaws. His confidence in his ability to do a job was surpassed only by his own personal insecurity. What some people saw as a perfectionist was many times his overwhelming sense of self doubt. How could someone like him ever make a mark in this world? How could he ever leave a legacy for others to see? I believe it is clear to me that his legacy is visible in the faces of everyone here today. It is clear that Johnny’s legacy is found in the unadulterated love for his grandchildren. There is a saying that the Catholic dictionary defines justice as your children having children, and his legacy – my children Natalie and Daniel and my nephews Leo and Luis – will bear down this justice on my brother and me for many years to come. Johnny’s legacy is not in what he had in his bank account or in financial assets in some investment portfolio. It is not found in the cars he drove or the house in which he lived. Johnny’s legacy is in the outpouring of love you all have shown him, both in his passing and in his time on Earth. His legacy lives in all of us and in the wonderful memories we created and shared with him. His legacy did not end when his spirit left his body to ascend to Heaven. Rather, it is merely beginning and will forever shine in how we celebrate the life of the man we all knew as Johnny. The Book of Luke teaches us, “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” And it fills my heart with joy to see everyone here to exalt my father.

Dad, I pray to God that you are with Him in Heaven, finally enjoying the peace and rest you so well deserve. I also pray that I can be the type of worker you were for the vast majority of your life, the type of friend you were to everyone you knew, and the type of provider you were for your family. I pray that I can be half the father to my children that you were to me. I hope I can be a hero to someone in the way you were always a hero to me. Thank you for always making me feel loved, and please know that we all love you, Johnny. Please know that I will always love you, Dad.

Five Years Later

2011-05-30T20:10:00.000-07:00

One thousand eight hundred twenty five days (give or take). That’s how long it’s been since my life changed, since my world changed.

I’ve recently been thinking a lot about family and what family means to me. As those who know me will tell you, my world begins and ends with my kids. My son and daughter are my everything. They are my North. They are my constant. I am who I am because of them. I live the life that I do for them.

Beyond my children, I have a loving, giving, and exceptionally fulfilling relationship with my wife. We fit together. We complement each other. Our marriage is not always roses and it’s far from perfect, but we are indeed perfect for each other.

My mother still lives in South Florida and I keep in touch with her at least once a week. My mother in law lives with my wife and me, and it’s very nice having someone else around the house to interact with and make us coffee in the morning (thanks, Patsy).

My brother and I maintain a good relationship, although he has his life and I have mine. We probably don’t keep in touch as often as we should, but with Facebook, Twitter, and text messaging, we do alright to keep each other abreast of the important things going on.

Outside all the above, I’ve been staring at the concept of family with a sense of amalgamation as to how that word applies to my life.

I once had a conversation with a friend of mine about this very topic. She was adamant the label family applied only to those related to you by blood or marriage. I apply a more broad approach to the word, allowing it to incorporate individuals with whom you have no blood relation but are still critical people in your life. She told me there were words other than family to describe those relationships. I proceeded to tell her she was the sister I never had.

It was five years ago this weekend, Memorial Day 2006, when my eyes were opened to the idea that family could be something greater that DNA and marriage certificates. Lee and I traveled to Isle of Palms, South Carolina for the first ever Sister Hazel Hazelnut Hang. It was a great experience with three days filled of amazing music and fun times. More importantly, it’s where we first met the wonderful collection of individuals with whom we interact on a regular basis. It’s where we were introduced to our Hazelnut Family (and my wife did an excellent job capturing exactly what that family means to us).

Amidst recent commentary from the South Florida home front, which included snarky comments about fleeing Miami and implied assertions of family abandonment, the idea of what family is has weighed heavily on my mind. Yes, I love my aunts and uncles, and I miss my cousins because they’re the people with whom I grew up. Thanks to today’s technology and the continued proliferation of social media, it’s a lot easier to keep in touch with them. I’ve even found renewed relationships with several of them as a result.

Still, my life is in Tampa because my kids are in Tampa. I make no apologies for that at all. In a perfect world we’d all live within an hour’s drive of each other, and we’d routinely get together like we did when we were kids. But the world is not perfect, and we all should be focusing on the life ahead instead of the memories of what’s now so far behind us.

Living in Tampa also affords me the added bonus of being near some of the people who make up my other family. These are individuals with whom I’ve bonded over the years. We came together as a result music and that weekend trip Lee and I took five years ago. We stayed together because we share a commitment to and for each other, a passion for doing right by others, and a desire to share the magic of music with others so that their lives can be positively impacted as ours have.

I can say honestly and without equivocation the life I lead today and the world in which I live is a direct result of Memorial Day weekend 2006. My music family has helped me grow into who I am, and I will forever be grateful for the many wonderful and blessed relationships that were created as a result of that event.

You and I may disagree on the definition of family, but there’s no disputing the power and impact the love of family can have. In my case, it was life changing.

The Rules of Engagement

2011-05-26T21:58:00.000-07:00

I am a diehard sports fan. I love sports. Watching, coaching, partaking; I can’t get enough of sports (with the exception of Cricket. I just refuse to get into that at all.) Specifically, I get crazy about the teams from my hometown. So with the Miami Heat reaching the NBA Finals, instead of being 100% consumed with joy, I’m actually a little saddened.

My good friend Matt is a diehard sports fan. He loves sports. Watching, critiquing, …..er, watching; he can’t get enough of sports. (I actually think he would get into Cricket). Specifically, Matt is crazy about the teams from Dallas. Rangers, Stars, Cowboys, and, of course, the Mavericks.

The Miami Heat will face the Dallas Mavericks in the 2011 NBA Finals.

You can see my dilemma.

My dilemma is fueled by the fact it’s very easy for me to slip into obnoxious fan mode. I wish I could control it. I wish I could promise you it wouldn’t happen. But that would be the equivalent of asking Bruce Banner to control the raging, green monster inside of him. It just happens. Throw in a case of beer and it happens a lot faster.

I need to emphasize Matt is not just a friend. He’s a very good friend. He’s in my inner circle. He’s one of the first numbers I’d call in the event of an emergency. My family celebrates the holidays with his family. He and his wife come over to our house just to hang out. We’re tight like that.

So in the interest of keeping a good thing solid, I’ve developed what I would like to call the 2011 NBA Finals Rules of Engagement:

Under no circumstances are Matt and I allowed to watch any of the games together. I don’t care if he’s picking up the tab or providing all the beer. It ain’t happening.

In-game commentary shall be limited to text messaging only. Unlike Twitter and Facebook, text messaging remains the last bastion of true private conversation.

The ability of one person to be obnoxious following a win is directly proportional to how obnoxious the loser was during the game. Grace begets grace and douche begets douche.

Both parties are reminded that opinion is NOT fact. All commentary must begin with “I think” or “I believe.” Caveat: Any commentary that is substantiated by documentable statistics is allowed (which means I will lose this part every time).

No blaming the refs. Bad calls will be made that adversely impact both teams. It happens in all sports. Overall, it evens out. Both parties have to live with it.

The first person to use the word ‘Wambulance’ agrees to let the other person slap him in the face.

The first person to use the word ‘Meh’ agrees to let the other person punch him in the throat (I totally put that in there for my own benefit).

Any wagering on the series is not to exceed $20 and cannot lead to the humiliation of the losing party (although I do love the idea of Matt wearing a LeBron James jersey to work).

In the end, it’s all just a game and we’ll both return to being best of friends. That is, of course, unless the Heat lose because the refs decided to baby Dirk Nowitzki all series, and the Mavs played dirty, and the Cowboys still suck, and Nolan Ryan was overrated, and the Stars should have stayed in Minnesota, and Jerry Jones is the reason for the lockout, and Debbie was a skank anyway, and…..

…meh!

The Courage To Write

2011-05-13T19:21:00.000-07:00

If there’s one word I really hate it’s ‘facade'. The word itself and the slyness with which it’s usually said conjure up images of movie sets for old westerns. You know the ones. The buildings are merely planks of plywood painted to look like actual structures; thin 2x4’s the only thing keeping them up in the back.

Facade. I bet your reading of the word makes you think of someone whom you feel is fake. Someone who is not anything close to genuine. Someone who tries their best to make you think they’re someone they’re not.

We live in a world of facade. We live in a world where style almost always trumps substance. We live in society that embraces flash, worships immediacy, and cowers to political correctness. Honesty is not only a lonely word, it’s a forgotten concept.

But then you have moments when you come across people who are striving to be honest individuals. People working hard simply to be authentic. Who would have thought it could be an ordeal to just be yourself?

I am fortunate and blessed to live with a person like that.

Watching my wife on her journey of authenticity has been and continues to be an inspiration for me. It also serves as a reminder of what courage is. As I’ve been privy to most of the feedback she’s received from her writing, I’m reminded of what it takes to write and publish your thoughts, feelings, and emotions for all the world to see. Blogging in the manner which my wife does takes a type of courage very few people posses.

It’s not like writers of editorials who are paid to take a position on a subject and express their opinions with words. It’s not like a talk radio host who must be both entertaining, informed, and always one step ahead of the audience. It’s also not like other bloggers who are, on their own scale, Internet celebrities and whose blogs are more a commercial vehicle than a portal of introspection.

My wife’s blog is none of those things. If we’re lucky, it never will become one of those things.

The road to authenticity begins with a realization that there’s a whole lot of distance between here and there. It also begins with the conscious decision to take what’s been given you, both the good and the bad, and to make the most with it not just for yourself but also for the greater good. It’s akin to playing poker and having all your cards dealt face up. You can’t bluff your way through a hand. When life is good, you take the pot. When it’s not, you take your loss and wait patiently until a new hand is drawn.

The admiration I have for my wife, as well as the many other writer’s out there who pour their heart and soul into the words they create, is hard to describe. The rawness with which they write is mesmerizing. Their ability to make my eyes tear and my heart ache is breathtaking. Through all the chaos, noise, and superficiality, their voices serve as a compass that reminds me of which way I want to go. It’s a moment of focus in a whirlwind of blur.

There’s a lot in this life to distract us. There’s a lot in this life to make us think we’re bigger than we are. If, however, you ever feel the desire to take off your shoes and feel the earth underneath your feet, I invite you to find a blogger that inspires you, and to latch on to that person’s work.

Better yet, if you really want to explore the inner workings of your life, take a moment to write down what you’re thinking. You don’t have to post it online or share it with anyone. Write it for you. Write it for the experience of being your authentic self.

You want to live your life? Get real.

Giving In

2011-05-03T07:45:00.000-07:00

It’s a daily struggle for me to get into gear. The blessing that is working from home has a flip side, a side that is weighted down by sluggishness and complacency. I thoroughly enjoy not having to commute into work, but I also have to fight myself to ‘get going’ in the mornings and get the ball rolling. Sometimes inspiration - not to mention the crack of the boss’ whip - comes soon after 8:00 AM. Other times I feel like I don’t get out of second gear until well past 10:00.

Still, there is no rhyme or reason as to why or when the moment of energetic infusion hits. It could be a pressing deliverable for work, it could be a crisis situation (which in my work world usually means systems outage), or it could be the right song playing on the radio at the just right time.

Sometimes it’s a tweet from a friend. Sometimes it’s a blog post that I take a moment to read because, after all, I don’t feel like doing much of anything else. Sometimes something as simple as someone’s Facebook status can change my perspective and outlook for the day.

Inspiration is funny like that. She’s a clever little devil.

I’ve had this voice in my head for the past month now. It was a little, nagging whisper I’ve been ignoring for some time, and it finally go to me today.

“You need to write more!”

For weeks and weeks, it was there like that faint buzz you sometimes hear when an electronic device is turned on. I’d simply cast it aside like an annoying pet begging for food next to the dinner table.

“Go away. I’m ‘busy’.”

“No you’re not. You’ve been staring at ESPN.com for thirty five minutes.”

So as I gave into my lack of motivation this morning, I was bombarded online by message after message after message. It’s as if this little voice took over the Internet and deliberately directed content my way.

There was a tweet about how Rome wasn’t built in a day, but at some point the project DID start. My friend wrote a blog the mentions how Stephen Kings writes every day. Another friend’s blog got me thinking about what my calling is, and whether or not that voice in my head has something to do with it. This all came to a head when I received notification that someone I admire and is an inspiration to me is following me on twitter (yeah, I don’t get it either).

So here I am … BAM … shaking off the morning molasses and feeding the voice in my head. Call her my muse, call her a bitch; either way, both are probably correct.

Lazy is tempting seductress, one that fills you with emptiness and the regrets of missed opportunities. I know her well. Still, you never know when inspiration is going swoop in to help save you from lazy’s quicksand grip. Once she does, however, don’t let yourself hide behind excuses. I know I have.

The reward of the accomplishment is in looking back at all that was overcome to reach that point.

Missing Teen in South Florida

2011-04-26T05:26:00.001-07:00

I was asked by a friend of mine in Miami to help spread the word regarding a missing 17 year-old from Miami.

Nicole Marie Dones was last seen on April 18, 2011, and she's believed to be in the company of her boyfriend Jackson Powell.

Please see the attached flyers for more information, and contact Detective A. Mancha of the Miami Dade Police Department (305-418-7201) should you have information regarding Nicole's disappearance.

News report from NBC Miami

Plinko and Life

2011-03-21T20:08:00.001-07:00

My kids are coming off their Spring Break and it got me to thinking about the wonderful childhood memories I have from when I was out of school. Those days were glorious. I’d wake up, watch back-to-back episodes of ‘Family Ties’, and my mom would make me her world famous (i.e. the world inside my head) egg and cheese sandwich (two of them, actually). Then ‘The Price is Right’ would come on and I’d be mesmerized by my mom’s ability to know the price of EVERYTHING!

One of my favorite TPIR games was always Plinko. I would be so consumed by how contestants would stand there and ponder the exact, perfect location of where to drop the chip so that it would land where they wanted it to. Even at an early age, I quickly realized the game of Plinko was simply a metaphor for life itself; random supersedes planning and there are no guarantees in life.

As I was perusing the Internet today, it came to my attention today is World Down Syndrome Day. As a result of my perusing, I came across two blogs, both by mothers with a child with Down Syndrome, both retelling their stories of being pregnant and how they dealt with the idea of having a child with an extra chromosome.

This, again, got me to thinking of when my ex-wife was pregnant with our children. Both times we were asked by her OB if we wanted a test to screen for abnormalities or possible birth defects. Twice we told him, “thanks, but no” as it wouldn’t matter either way. Termination of the pregnancy was never an option, so the screening would simply be a waste of time for all involved.

Both blogs I read today touched on the conversation of terminating a pregnancy where the parents became aware there was an issue with the child. In the first blog, both parents started down the path of having an abortion until something made them change their mind; a decision they would celebrate given the beautiful child they had as a result. In the second blog, the mother was not aware of her child having Down Syndrome. In fact, her pre-natal test had ruled out DS. It didn’t matter either way. For her, too, termination was never an option.

I look back at those days of doctor’s visits and ultrasounds, and it all seems light-years ago. I have two beautiful and healthy children, one eleven years old and the other just several weeks away from turning ten. I can’t imagine a life without them, and their good health is my good fortune. I thank God every day for that blessing that is all too often taken for granted.

Still, I believe my love for them would be no less had they been born with a condition or birth defect. I look at my cousin who deals with struggle after struggle with an autistic child. She and her husband lose sleep on a regular basis, are routinely at either a doctor’s office or hospital, and live their lives with a certain sense of an impending “what’s next?” mentality. Still, they love their son like there’s no tomorrow, and the love they share between themselves is immeasurable. It’s the love you develop only after having sweat and bled with someone else, and I look at my cousin with a world of admiration. I like to think I could be as strong as she, yet I thank the Lord I was not put in the position to find out.

In the end, life, and the events that fill it, is random. It really doesn’t matter where you place that Plinko chip. It’s going to fall where it’s going to fall, and there really is very little we can do to predict or control what happens once we let the chip go.

There are two things, however, we are able to dictate. Faith and love.

Our faith in God and our acceptance of His will determine for us how we experience life. We can either fill our lives with anxiety, despair, and frustration, or we can give ourselves to the mystery that is God’s choosing, knowing that when He selects us for a particular challenge, it is for a purpose and it is for the betterment of a greater good. We may never realize or understand it, still it’s our place to accept it nonetheless.

We also control how we choose to love others. It can be so easy for the parent of a special needs child to lay blame for the situation on their spouse or external circumstances. We can allow adversity to handcuff our heart’s ability to love and, in turn, be loved. Or we can find both strength and comfort in the love of those who surround us and support us. Love is not only an emotion but also a tool. It is up to us to choose if we use it to build or to destroy.

I never thought in looking back at those memories of my early youth a simple game on a television game show would lead to such a deep and thought provoking blog post. Funny how life is random that way.

Catching Grenades

2011-03-15T19:44:00.000-07:00

Hi. My name is Gil … and I am apparently very late to this party.

Call me clueless, call me out of touch, call me addicted to the 80’s on 8 channel on my Sirius satellite radio; but I had never, until this evening, heard the Bruno Mars song ‘Grenade’.

I stumbled across it as a result of following Chris Rock’s twitter feed. The famed comedian had a post about the song. I thought the tweet was in reference to Mars' song “Just The Way You Are”. My wife, who is light-years more in touch with what’s cool and popular than I am, promptly corrected me. This, by the way, is a common occurrence in our household.

I gave the song a listen and studied the lyrics. It’s pleasant musically and a very interesting read lyrically. To me, the song speaks to a severely imbalanced relationship in which one person clearly places the other on a pedestal without any sense of reciprocation of passion and feeling. Hmmm. Where was this song for me in late 2005?

This got me to thinking about my relationship with my wife, and what is the litmus test of true love. Would I catch a grenade for her? The deviation from the more appropriate phrasing notwithstanding (it should be “I’d jump on a grenade for you” since merely catching a grenade would still send shards of shrapnel flying everywhere, but I digress), yes. Without hesitation and without equivocation. In a moment of split-second decision making, I would absolutely give my life for that of my spouse. The same holds true for my kids.

Throw my hand on a blade? Check.

Jump in front of a train? Yep.

Go through all of the pain? For sure.

Take a bullet straight through my brain? Bring it on.

It’s called devotion. Like a seed, it is a feeling that lives inside all of us. However, it is activated only after a unique set of circumstances, experiences, and beliefs have come together and given that kernel of emotion a reason to grow. Devotion allows us to easily sacrifice what others will not for the benefit of someone else or the greater good.

We see it in missionaries who forego leisure and luxury to reach out to others. We see it in scientists who spend eighteen hours a day in labs researching possible cures for the diseases that kill us. We see it in the eyes of the women and men who put on a uniform and defend our great nation.

One thing I didn’t mention about the Bruno Mars song is that it’s also a study in hyperbole. It’s a boy’s overly exaggerated cry out to the object of his affection, a cry that is amplified because she does not feel the same for him. It’s cute, catchy, and clever, but it is not a song about devotion.

True devotion is selfless. There is no, “I agree to do this if…..”. Devotion, in its purest form, is saintly and does not bring with it conditions.

I’ve mentioned before how my life is full to the brim with blessings. I have two awesome and healthy kids, I have a beautiful wife that continues to amaze me on a daily basis, a wonderful home to share with them, and a laundry list of other things for which I am eternally grateful to God.

One thing I’d never thought of, however, was the gift of devotion. God has given me a wonderful life, but more spectacular than that, He’s given me a family I’d willingly die for. You can’t ask for anything more than that.

Gil's Love Fest

2011-02-13T18:56:00.000-08:00

The following blog post is from my dear friend Lindsey Goodall. For Valentine's Day, I invited several fellow bloggers to come together and guest blog on each other's sites. I hope you take a moment to check out Lindsey's other posts and follow her on Twitter as well. Enjoy.

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For year’s I have been reading this blog and am so honored to have the opportunity to guest post here today! Always so moved and inspired by Gil’s writing, it would have never even occurred to me that I would be working on a piece to submit to be featured here. But had you told me the opportunity would arise and that the topic he would propose for a guest posting round robin, would be "love". . . I would have not been surprised in the least.

More specifically, what he proposed was that several of us bloggers we write about something we love. Not someone we love, but “causes or dreams” near and dear to our hearts. We would then share our writing with another to be posted on their blog as a sort of guest post love fest celebrating Valentine’s day. Based on the alphabetical order of our last names, I was assigned to write for Gil’s blog. So here I am, writing about love on the blog of the one person in my life, who so clearly exemplifies the word for me. So, without further ado, I bring you, not a post about a cause or dream I hold dear to my heart, rather a post that will likely make the owner of this blog second guess his decision to suggest a love fest.

Gil Gonzalez values love and LIVES love more than any other human being I've ever known. Simply put Gil defines MAN LOVE.

Before we go any further, let me clarify here, Gil is a guys guy. I am not trying to revoke his man card here. If you know Gil in the real world or only in cyberspace, you know that Gil is a guy’s guy. He breathes sports and relishes in potty humor just like the best of them. I have no doubt that he could walk up to any man in the world and kick start a conversation about business, politics, sports or beer/tequila. Gil is 100% dude despite his capacity to love.

Gil adores his children and his A-mazing wife, Lee, in the ways you would expect a doting father and husband to do. Gil kicks it up a notch, and raises the bar for all you other Y-chromosers, though when it comes to giving love to everyone else in his life. I've written before about how touched I was when he took the time to protect my personal branding and then sent me a detailed explanation of why he bothered. Here's the rub though. . . I am just one of a thousand people that Gil treats this way.

Over the years, I have seen him embrace and encourage every single person he meets. He values people and treasures relationships. The best part, is that he is not afraid to share it because of man card revocation or because of crossing any awkward social boundaries. He gives his love without limitation.

A few years ago, Gil and I jumped out of a plane together (shout out to Kara and Kelly). I was the first to jump, and as I took one glance back at my friends before flying the friendly skies, with sheer panic on his face, I saw Gil mouthing "I LOVE YOU". While that sentiment is generally shared by those in more intimate relationships, this is what Gil does that sets him apart. He gives it so freely, that it is often received in the precisely right moment.

We were all terrified about what we were doing, having just watched the "you are going to die video", but in the years since that experience, I've often felt that what he gave me, by saying those 3 little words, was really an "everything is going to be alright" at a time that I needed to hear it most in my life. Honestly, he probably just didn't know what else to say in that incredibly adrenaline filled moment and once in a lifetime moment, but had that jump taken a horrible turn for the worse, the last words I would have heard would have been "I love you". That, my friends, was a gift.

Today, Valentine’s day, I would encourage you to do as Gil so often does. Give the gift of the words “I love you”, without restraint. Regardless of the context of your relationship with them, share the love. Instead of hogging the love only for those only in your inner circle, spread it outside that circle to other people in your life as well!

Oh, and I love you too, Gil! It is truly and honor and a privilege to be your friend!

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After much chastisement from friends, Lindsey Goodall has reluctantly accepted the title of “do-gooder”. In addition to her non-profit work and play, she is a writer, runner, and late bloomer. You can read all about her quest for coming clean with herself at www.3fourletterwords.blogspot.com.

Groupon, F*ck Off

2011-02-08T07:52:00.000-08:00

There’s a line in one of my favorite Billy Joel songs, “Angry Young Man”, that reads “it’s a comfort to know his intentions are good.” That is where I am going to start regarding my opinion of the recent Groupon/Super Bowl ad controversy and Andrew Mason.

If you haven’t seen it or are unaware of the issue, deal-of-the-day website Groupon ran a series of ads that many viewers found offensive. The reason for the negative response is because the ads appear to mock serious social issues.

In response to the public outcry, Groupon CEO Andrew Mason posted a blog explaining the company’s reasoning for the ads.

As I mentioned earlier, Mason clearly explained the ads are meant to, “highlight the often trivial nature of stuff on Groupon when juxtaposed against bigger world issues, making fun of Groupon.” Mason goes on to compare the campaign, created by ad firm Crispin Porter & Bogusky, to another CP+B Super bowl ad for Hulu. This is where Mason meets his colossal #FAIL point.

The Hulu ad is clearly a joke. It’s a very well conceived and brilliantly delivered, tongue-in-cheek look at TV consumption in America. The audience walks away from the ad knowing that Hulu is poking fun at both themselves and the viewers.

The new Groupon ads do not do that. They don’t even come close.

If you look at them collectively, it is possible to see a theme develop. However, for individuals seeing the ads for the first time, the impact is almost horrific. They come across as at the very least confusing and at their worst, downright insulting.

Mason’s failure was allowing CP+B to affect his voice as well as his vision. Groupon tried to be clever and witty with their ads and the juxtaposition they paint between serious issues and penny-pinching consumerism. What they failed to consider is that social awareness is not meant to be the subject of “Ha ha. Just kidding.” antics.

It’s ironic that a company that has succeeded by providing value to its customers failed to understand that value, in and of itself, exists because of emotion. Value is psychological, and without the emotion we place on a particular good or service, there is no such thing as value.

Social awareness and giving, in turn, is wholly emotional. Millions of people sacrifice their time, money, and at times their very own lives, for causes and efforts in which they deeply believe. Social good bleeds emotion, and it is not something that should be treated with flippant disregard, as was the case with the Groupon ad campaign.

Sure, Andrew Mason can look back and try to retrospectively justify his company’s decision as one of raising awareness for issues while poking fun at themselves. He can attempt to rationalize the campaign by claiming the ads are different and not about traditional self-promotion. Mason may even employ service recovery actions to make clear the ads are indeed about social awareness.

The fact remains, however, the decision to employ this ad campaign was to deliberately create buzz about his company, be it positive or negative. It was a $3 million* investment in creating brand awareness. It was a move designed for the benefit of Groupon at the expense of the millions of people who are emotionally invested in social good and social awareness.

With every action or decision, intention is important. Andrew Mason did not intend to offend his audience. But in a way, he really did.

*Source: http://www.superbowl-commercials.org/1071.html

The Masonry of Motherhood

2011-01-30T20:46:00.000-08:00

I’m back to writing following a brief hiatus. Camping with my son on Friday night prevented me from writing and publishing a post that evening. Sharing in dinner, laughter, and community with dear friends (not to mention a couple of bottles of wine and some Scotch) precluded my writing routine last night. So now that I had “the weekend off”, I’m here to write the second to last post of the month, and perhaps the last routine post for a while (you’ll have to tune in to Monday night’s post for details).

You’ve seen me write about my kids and also about my wife Lee. My family means so much to me it’s hard to put it into words sometimes, and it’s definitely a challenge to come up with new ways to describe the feelings I get when I think about my wife and my kids. Given all that, I am very remiss in the fact that I don’t write nearly enough about someone so equally special to me and that is such an important part in my life.

My mom is my constant. She is, in a way, the architect of who I am today. Where my dad was more the designer of my persona, I would say my mom was always focused on the engineering aspect of who I was. On top of a deep foundation of family and Catholic fundamentals, my mom placed brick after brick of life lessons, each reinforced with the mortar that was her love, as well as the unwavering rebar that was her strict discipline.

My mom was nothing if not consistent. She never caved to any puppy-dog-eyed please for exception or mercy. She never faltered in ensuring the rules that applied to everyone else also applied to me. It’s as if she measured every brick precisely, none greater than the last, none diminished by any sense of complacency. What made my mom truly remarkable in her masonry of motherhood was her ability to be meticulous. Style was not really important. For my mom, the substance of what she was making would serve to be the measure of value, respect, and integrity.

I love my mom and I truly enjoy her company. I wish we did not live so far apart with her in Miami and me in Tampa. I wish we had the opportunity to interact more and for my kids to be with their grandmother more often. All that being said, no one sets me off or pushes my buttons quite the way my mom does. The last several years have been an exercise in me learning to be more patient with her so as to ensure the limited time we do share is that of quality time. This is especially true given the very recent reminders that mortality is an eventuality, and I don’t want to waste time being upset at or bothered by my mother.

I hate to admit how little I’ve been able to show my mom the love and appreciation she deserves. At the very least we speak weekly and every conversation ends with an exchange of ‘I love you’. Yet, I know that’s not enough. It’s not enough to bank on a phone call. It’s not enough to really on Hallmark cards on Mother’s Day and her birthday. All of that doesn’t even begin to come close to being enough when I consider how my mom has always been there for me. Unwavering. Unassuming. Unbelievably constant.

I don’t know what the solution is in the long run. My life is here in Tampa, and until my kids graduate from high school (2019), my life will remain here in Tampa. I’ve talked to my mom about moving up here to be closer to her grandchildren, and we discussed the many pros and cons to that idea. Still, we each remain resigned to the fact we’ll see each other a handful of times per year and maintain the formal and cordial relationship of mother and son. Until I can figure out a way to change and improve this, I guess the best I can do is to live a life of value, respect, and integrity, and always give her a reason to be proud of what she created.

May my actions as a husband, a father, and a human being serve as a monument to her legacy as a mother.

Vocation: My Mission in Life

2011-01-27T21:01:00.000-08:00

The dictionary defines the word ‘vocation’ as a particular occupation, business, or profession; calling. It can also be defined as a function or station in life to which one is called by God. Growing up Catholic, I heard this word a lot when I was in school. I think it was the Catholic Church’s not-so-subtle way of trying to recruit boys into becoming priests. “Normal people have careers, but those true to God know what their vocation is,” I recall Sister Mary Somethingorother telling me once. The way I figure it, if God wanted me to become a priest, He wouldn’t have created boobs.

Still, I believe in the concept of vocation. I believe we are all placed on Earth for a purpose; to play a specific role in His creation. I whole-heartedly believe God has blessed me with a divine task during my time here on Earth, but it has nothing at all to do with being a man of the cloth. Ironically, however, my vocation is one that still requires people to call me father. Two people to be exact.

There is no doubt in my mind my sole purpose in life is to be an exceptional dad. Not a good dad. Not a great dad. Not just an a’ite dad. An exceptional dad. A phenomenal dad. The best dad ever.

Granted, I know I can never be that. Like a perfect GPA in college, once you slip up, you can never get back to 4.0. It’s mathematically impossible. I believe my life’s journey and the transgressions I’ve experienced are akin to that, and those decisions will forever stain my resume as a dad. Nevertheless, I am resolved to make an effort every day and with everything I do to atone for the sins of my past. I am very fortunate my children were so young when my first wife and I split up, and their frame of reference continues to shift from a memory of mommy and daddy together to that of what our current situation reflects.

All that being said, I strive to be the best parent to my children I can possibly be. I like to think I don’t spoil them, yet there is not much which they lack in terms of the ‘things’ they have. By my standard as a kid growing up, my children are very rich. Still, I make sure they appreciate the value of money. I teach them to be respectable and honest, kind and unselfish. I do my best to lead by example; often times forgoing something I want to do in order to teach them the lesson of what is the right thing to do.

As they get older, I find I must give up some of the strict disciplinarian role in order to make room for the more patient and wise consultant. Gone are the days of very narrow limitations and binary choices that set the boundaries they knew as infants and toddlers. Now their choices are quite multiple, all with varying levels and parameters of depth, impact, and consequence. I find where before I would raise my voice and fall back on my trusted “because I say so” argument, I now break into mini-pep talks where the discipline is found in the lesson of the moment. Put another way, I’ve evolved from Nick Saban into Tony Dungy.

I say all this knowing I don’t do it alone. I’ve always said about my ex-wife that I would not want anyone else to be the mother of my children. She and I have always been on the same page when it comes to parenting, and I am so damn lucky that through all that happened, that aspect of our relationship never changed.

Being a dad is not always easy, but it is so incredibly rewarding. I feel it whenever I am complimented about my children. It’s a sense of validation and justification for the many trials and tribulations that come with being a parent. From a long term perspective, my vision is of two individuals who are pillars of their respective communities. Strong and intelligent leaders who are also humble and reverent human beings. That is what I want my kids to become, and that is what I feel it is my mission in life to produce. That is my contribution to my community and this planet. That is my vocation.

As a quick aside, my dad would have been seventy-seven years old today. I wish he were still around to see how beautiful, charming, witty, and fun his grandchildren have become. But I know he’s in Heaven looking down and smiling, and thankful that I never ended up becoming a priest.

I Walked a Mile With Pleasure

2011-01-27T08:33:00.000-08:00

I walked a mile with Pleasure
She chatted all the way
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say

I walked a mile with Sorrow
And ne'er a word said she
But, oh! The things I learned from her
When sorrow walked with me

-by Robert Browning Hamilton

From Grief to Grace

2011-01-25T23:18:00.001-08:00

Today’s topic is supposed to be about something that was planned that did not turn out as expected. I don’t think I can do a better job than the one Lee did with her post tonight. Also, I’m not feeling that topic because I have something else weighing on my mind.

In the past year, I’ve had too many friends grieve the loss of a parent. I’ve also had another grieve the loss of a sibling. This sad and unfortunate trend continued this week as someone close to me lost his mother. It also pains me to say I have friends who are preparing for their loss as they have a parent who is ill or in hospice care.

In almost all of the instances mentioned above, cancer has been the common denominator in the passing of those individuals.

Every loss we experience is tragic. Infant or elder, expected or all of the sudden, death brands our soul with the lasting reminder of its eventuality. We mourn. We grieve. We try to make sense of it all. And in its own way, death unites us in the commonness of sorrow and pain.

There’s an extra layer added when the ones we love are lost due to that universal foe we call cancer. It’s hard enough to learn to accept death, but losing someone to cancer makes us feel cheated. We’re left feeling they were taken from us prematurely, and if not for cancer, they’d still be with us creating memories and sharing moments.

But as with all deaths, we, those who survive the ones who have passed, can carry their legacy and lives forward in how we choose to honor and remember them.

I never had the honor of meeting Jeffrey Block. He died at the age of 18 following a four year long battle with cancer. Still, he’s been the inspiration for a movement and a cause that has positively impacted the lives of thousands of people. His older brother chose to turn his grief and sorrow into a lasting tribute to his little brother, and formed a charity organization dedicated to the fight against pediatric cancer. The culmination of this tribute is found in the song Jeffrey’s brother wrote for him. To this day, I cannot listen to that song without my eyes welling with tears and my thoughts drifting to the memory of my father.

Grieving is a natural process. Feeling hurt, pain, and sometimes despair following the passing of a loved one is normal. Still, I like to think they’d want us to instead celebrate the life we shared with them and keep their memory alive by channeling that sense of loss into something positive.

You don’t have to go out and found a charity or write a beautiful song to honor a loved one. Instead, find solace in taking actions you know would make them proud. Find direction in the lessons you learned from them while they were still with us. Keep their spirit alive by enriching the spirit of others.

It’s when we turn grief into grace that we allow our loved ones to live forever.

“Running Through the Fields” by Ken Block

Well we shared a season
Running through the fields
We never had a reason
To be scared of things
That were so unreal
Making our own stories
Playing our own games
We never had no worries
Never thought things
Would ever change

But I’m missin’ you today -
Don’t know why you went away

Times I sat and wondered
Nights we sat and cried
I’m proud to be your brother
No one knows how hard we tried
To make it to tomorrow
For just another day
There’s never time to borrow
For things I’ll never get to say ...

So many days I’m searchin’
So many nights I’m left alone
Sometimes the song of the wind
Well it’s -- only the warning for the storm

Moments turn to hours
Months they turn to years
It’s different now without you
With your image crystal clear
The child was the teacher
A brother and a friend
A fragile little creature
Who’d do it all again and again

Well we shared a season
Running through the fields

You Wanna Do What?

2011-01-24T20:01:00.000-08:00

Remember that song my Naughty by Nature called “You down with OCD”. Wait, what? That’s not what it’s called? That’s not what they were down with? Well, in my version it’s definitely OCD.

I don’t suffer from OCD, I relish in it. I embrace it. Being married to someone who lives - how shall I say this? - on the other end of the spectrum in terms of my comfort zone for order and tidiness can be a challenge. I guess that’s part of being in a relationship; being able to meet halfway.

But if it were strictly up to me, my house would probably look like a museum. I love perfectly arranged items. I love sorting and organizing. I get off on ninety degree angles. I like start-to-finish planning. If I could, I’d get a tattoo of a timeline on my arm. When it comes to law and order, the law is you must keep things in order.

Okay ….. I’m done with the euphemisms.

Now, imagine what my gut instinct was when Lee suggested, as we were planning a road trip to visit family in Miami, that we leave a day early and stop in Ft. Myers on the way. “It’ll give us the chance to do something different,” she said. “We’ve never really been, we can break up the drive down, and it’ll be fun.”

It was a really good idea and I agreed to it without much hesitation. I headed over to my laptop and pulled up a travel website. “What are you doing?” she asked me. I explained I was going to look up a hotel at which to stay in Ft. Myers and make a reservation. “We don’t need a reservation,” she quipped. “Let’s just get in the car and go. We’ll find a place to stay once we get there.”

I don’t know exactly how long it was, but I must have stared at her for about a minute and a half. It was just a blank stare, my brain unable to comprehend the words that came out of her mouth. I heard the faint voice of Gary Coleman in my head ask, “Whatchu talk’n ‘bout, Willis?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. I explained to her that it sounded as if she said we didn’t need a reservation, and that we’d simply find a hotel when we got there. “That’s exactly what I said,” she retorted. It was then that the twitch that began in my eye escalated to full-on convulsions over my body.

How could this woman possibly suggest we just get in a car, drive to a different city, and stay the night without a reservation? Why would anyone do that? That’s the beauty of a reservation. You don’t have to worry about not having a place to stay. You don’t have to play out in your head the worst case scenario of sleeping in the car. What if there’s a convention and the only place available is $300 per night? My wife obviously hadn’t thought this through very well.

Stopping short of bitch slapping me back to her reality, Lee convinced me to “just have faith” and go with it. “You can’t plan everything,” she lectured me. I quietly disagreed.

We got in the car, drove off, and made it to Ft. Myers without incident. More importantly, we found a place to stay without incident. Well, there was that one little detail about our bathroom not being exactly clean which lead to the room being comp’d. That was cool.

In the end, we had a great time. Lee’s spontaneous idea and her coaxing me into giving randomness a try turned out to be quite the fun adventure. It also turned out to be a good learning experience for me as well. I learned to expand my comfort zone. I learned to place trust in the un-planned. I learned to let go of some of the obsessive and give into more of the compulsive in my life.

Life is rarely neat and tidy. Life almost never goes according to plan. I guess it is life’s tendency to exist in disorder that I need to embrace.

Forgive + Forget = No Regrets

2011-01-23T20:35:00.000-08:00

In the wake of posting some pretty deep and dark entries about specific events in my life, it’s with open arms that I embrace tonight’s writing topic.

The subject of tonight’s entry is a truly spiritual moment in my life. I thought long and hard about this. I tried to recall a ‘eureka’ moment with God, one that set me on a new path of growth and spiritual happiness. However, the more I searched for that moment, the more I realized there wasn’t one. Well, not just one.

Instead, what I found was a series of moments in my life, specifically in the last several years, that have brought me closer to God and have allowed me to look at life with a completely different perspective. It’s very much a domino effect, where the first moment leads the way to the second, and so on. The following is a very brief recap of my journey with Christ that helped get me to where I am today.

It was an ordinary weekend in 2005 and I just happened to be awake early on a Sunday morning. Usually I would sleep in late following some drunken stupor the night before. 2005 was my ‘being single’ year, and I tried to cram my twenties, as well as everything I felt I had missed by being in a relationship at such a young age, into that year. That particular Sunday, however, I was up at around 7:00 AM.

As I lay in bed, I had a feeling in my chest. It was a calling from Him telling me I needed to get up and go to Mass. I was raised Catholic, but I had not been to Mass in a long time. I tried to ignore it. I tried to shake off the feeling inside me. But the more I did, the louder the voice was and the deeper the feeling that I needed to get up and just go.

As it turns out, that particular Sunday was the ministry fair at my church. At the end of Mass, the newly hired director of Youth Ministry made an appeal to all in the audience to donate their time and help out the fledgling program. I looked up towards God and told him, “Okay. I get the message,” and I registered to volunteer. It was that experience as a volunteer youth minister that allowed me to participate in a leadership retreat the following year. It was at that retreat where I had a second spiritual moment with God.

I had been struggling mightily with forgiveness. I was still bitter about what had happened to me in my pursuit of ‘true love’, and I was also very much still mad and ashamed at myself for what I did to my family and ex-wife. It was there, following a discussion about reconciliation with God, where I felt the strength to let it all go and release that burden I’d been carrying. Not only was I able to extend forgiveness to the person I felt had wronged me, I also learned at that moment, through God’s amazing grace and kindness, how to forgive myself.

This experience has come around full circle for me as I sat in the audience at Relevant Church in Tampa this morning. Our pastor, Paul Wirth, was talking about the snapshots in life that lead to regret. It was then that I realized exactly how powerful that moment at the retreat really was. You see, although there are many actions in my life which I regret having done, I don’t at all feel the heavy burden of regret. I know the reason for this is because God showed me how to forgive and, more importantly, how to accept His divine forgiveness.

To me, forgiveness is like a bolt cutter. This specific bolt cutter, however, requires two cuts in order to work properly. We use this tool to release ourselves from our sins, which are attached to us at the ankle like a dead weight. We use it again to let go of the times we’ve been wronged, which are shackled to us at the other ankle. This weight pulls us under and drowns us. We can’t cut just one and be released from what is weighing us down. Instead, Jesus makes the first cut to forgive us of our sins. He teaches us through example, and we must then take the bolt cutters and forgive those who have hurt us. Only then can we rise to the surface and truly take in God’s love like a deep breath of fresh air.

I like to think I have spontaneous moments of spirituality every day. Some are subtle and may take some time to reveal themselves to me. Others, however, hit my like a ton of bricks. Either way, I feel I am so lucky and so blessed to have the relationship I do with God.

He truly does work in mysterious ways. All we have to do is be willing to listen ….. and learn.

Out of the Darkness Feet First

2011-01-22T21:35:00.001-08:00

I guess one of the problems with undertaking a writing challenge like ours is the inadvertent covering of future topics. Tonight’s subject is “A dark or turbulent moment in your life.” Well, it goes without saying I’ve already written about that. So instead, I am going to write about a dark moment in someone else’s life.

Actually, I jest. This is more like an enlightening moment in someone else’s life.

My friend Matt has lived most of his adult life in fear. He was afraid of the unknown. He was terrified to take on this undertaking, even at the suggestion of his wife. We, his male peers, offered up words of encouragement and support, but still he stood frozen in place, his fear and dislike not allowing him to take that step forward. You see, my friend Matt had never had a pedicure.

All that changed on Friday afternoon. Truth be told, we did not have to kidnap him and take him by force to the spa. There were no tranquilizers, duct tape, and rope involved, although it would have been cool if we had to throw a sack over his head and dump him in the trunk to do so. THAT would have made for a much better story.

Nevertheless, there we were Friday afternoon, Jeff in one seat, Matt in the other, both of them with their feet in bubbling water, all the while enjoying the tranquility of the view and ambient music playing in the day spa. I was there to provide moral support and to equally mock Matt’s virgin pedi experience. “Can I get you some water with a slice of cucumber?” I’d ask him. I grabbed a book from the waiting area for him to pass the time as his wax covered feet ‘baked’. It was called ‘Girl Talk’. He was not amused. And, of course, there were also the prerequisite photos of him to be posted on Twitter and Facebook.

Yet, through it all, Matt took it, well, like a man. He enjoyed the experience, made polite conversation with the lovely ladies tending to his and Jeff’s feet, and I think he walked away with a greater sense of enlightenment. Not to mention silky smooth feet.

From a guy’s perspective, it was fun. From a grander perspective, it was cool to remove from Matt’s mind the negative stereotype of pedicures for men. It was a learning experience and it was, I think, a growing experience. And in its own weird way, it brought the three of us guys a little bit closer.

For the record, my one and only pedi experience was with my wife while we were on vacation in Mexico in 2008. We had a spa day for two, and it was fantastic. Still, I am the first to admit that calling up the fellas and saying, “Hey, how about we get together at 1:00 and all go get our feet done?” is never going to happen. I appreciate the pampering and comfort a pedicure provides, but my first experience was special because I shared it with Lee, and I want to keep it as something she and I can do together.

So back to the moral of the story. Guys, don't knock it ‘till you try it. You never know just how bright a perceived dark moment can be. Matt, kudos to you for swallowing some of that male pride and, quite literally, dipping your feet in the water. Jeff, you continue to display just how cool you are for making this whole thing happen. And, Michelle, on behalf of Jeff, myself, and your husband …. you're welcome.

All About My BFF

2011-01-21T20:31:00.000-08:00

Sometimes things in life can be both easy and hard. There are challenges we face, people we know, or situations to resolve that have aspects that are both worrisome and trouble free. This entry is an example of that.

As part of my wife and I’s 30 Day Blog Challenge, the blog assignment for this evening is to write about your best friend (that is not a spouse or significant other). This is where the easy and hard part comes in.

As I’ve said before, I’ve been blessed to have an incredible circle of friends that have supported me and guided me through the years. They’ve been with me through thick and thin, and it’s a wonderful feeling knowing I am surrounded by such wonderful and amazing people. The hardest part of this entry, however, is selecting one individual to highlight as my ‘best friend’. The idea harkens thoughts of third grade and of raising one individual person over all others, but that’s not what I want to do at all. Every one of my friends possesses unique characteristics and traits without which I feel I would be lost. I honestly feel all my friends - my true friends, those that make up my inner circle of support and those I consider family - are great.

So as my way of dealing with this dilemma, I am going to fall back on my marketing background.

In marketing and advertising, there is a concept of top of mind awareness (TOMA). TOMA, simply put, is the brand you think of first regarding a particular type of product or service. For example, someone asks you what soda you like, the list of brands you rattle through are those that have top of mind awareness for you.

In trying to determine the subject of this post, I did something similar. I asked myself, “If I were impacted by a sudden tragedy in my life, who would be the first of my friends I would call?” Dark, I know. But this question serves as a good litmus test to help determine who in your life you consider a friend and who gets relegated to the category of casual acquaintance.

The first person that came to my mind is my friend Jeff Wilson. I don’t know where to begin with Jeff except to say I’m the little brother he never had. As far as guy stuff goes, he and I are cut from the same cloth. We’re both sports geeks. We’re both music geeks. We’re both big kids raising kids of our own. And since he and I have both travelled down the road of divorce with young children, we share a bond that allows us to get each other that much more.

Jeff is one of the most fun guys I know. He can be the life of the party when he wants to be. He also knows, however, when it’s time to be cool and casual. He seems to know just about everybody, too. If you need help with finding tickets to a show, he has a guy he can call. Going to that new restaurant that’s opening? Chances are he knows the owner. He’s well connected and influential, but in the most unassuming and non-egotistical way. He’s just all around cool.

But what makes me look at Jeff with eyes of admiration is his sense of selflessness and generosity. Jeff has been a role model to me, leading by example when it comes to giving of oneself for other people. In 2005, before I had the opportunity of meeting him, he organized in Tampa the first of what would become an annual event for Lyrics for Life, a charity organization founded by Sister Hazel that is dedicated to supporting research and programs for pediatric cancer. He did this out of pure inspiration for the cause. He was driven by his desire to make a difference and help out in any way he could. I attended that event and it was spectacular.

The following year, his son was diagnosed with a Wilms tumor, a type of kidney cancer that occurs in children. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like for a parent to hear the prognosis of their child being diagnosed with cancer, but I can tell you Jeff handled the situation with grace and determined resolve. He rallied around the love of his family and friends to provide both the best treatment and support environment for his son Tanner. He shaved his head in solidarity as Tanner began to lose his hair because of the chemo. He never laid blame on anyone or anything. He took his son by the hand, and they faced the adversity together.

Tanner is doing well and is symptom free. He is a healthy and active middle-schooler and the apple of his father’s eye.

Jeff’s been my drinking buddy, my road trip companion, my sounding board, my confidant, and everything in between. Most importantly, he’s been my inspiration in terms of charitable work and selfless giving. He’s the type of friend everyone wants to have and very few people can be. It’s so easy to be around him and hard not to like him. I am thankful to have him, as I am all my friends, in my life, and I know my life would be a lot less interesting without him.

To The Core

2011-01-19T19:25:00.000-08:00

I am a huge sports fan. Even more so, I am a huge Miami Dolphins fan. I grew up on the Dolphins. The golden era of Shula, Griese, and the Orange Bowl. The arrival of Dan Marino and the Marks Brothers. The heartbreaking losses in Super Bowls XVII and XIX. Those are all part of my childhood and the bedrock that makes me the fan I am today.

Alas to say dealing with heartbreak is part of being a Dolphins fan. Their last Super Bowl victory came a month before my first birthday. They haven’t been to the big game since the 1984 season. Their last trip to the AFC Championship? 1993. Along the way there have been memorable games, breathtaking wins, and, of course, heartbreaking losses. Coincidentally, the two that stand out in my mind both came in the playoffs and both were against the San Diego Chargers.

The first game was the classic Epic in Miami. It was January of 1982 and both teams played a slugfest that went into overtime. You remember that game: the sloppy field, the hook and lateral play, Kellen Winslow being carried off the field by his teammates. I was nine years old. I remember clutching my fists as I knelt in front of the TV. Following a legendary Miami comeback, I was absolutely sure they were going to win. They didn’t, losing in overtime. I was a wreck.

The second playoff game against the Bolts was in 1995. Miami lead San Diego 21-6 at the half. The Chargers roared back to take the lead. The game came down to a 48-yard field goal attempt by Pete Stoyanovich. I remember watching the game at a bar on Bourbon Street. I was so confident. Pete never misses from inside 50 yards. “We got this!” I said rather confidently to a patron standing next to me. I was 100% certain the Dolphins were going to win the game. When Stoyo’s kick sailed wide right - and it wasn’t even close - my heart sank in complete disbelief.

It’s rare to hear me say, “I’m absolutely positive” about anything in life. I’ve learned to withhold the final 1% of certainty and allow room, no matter how miniscule, for the improbable. Still, there I was in 2005 telling everyone I knew about how certain I was things were going to work out in the end. I was in a relationship I shouldn’t have been in. I was married. She was married. We were in love. And through it all, I was 1000% certain it was meant to be. We were perfect together. We were made for each other. We were soul mates.

Then the improbable - or from my perspective at the time, impossible - happened.

Long story short; after years of promising to choose me for our happily ever after, I was instead cast aside for the safety of the status quo. It was one of those, “The devil that you know is better than the devil that you don’t know” situations. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. That moment was for me the event that shook me to my core.

*takes a deep breath*

I didn’t know where I was going to go with this entry when I started writing. I didn’t know what the ‘moral of the story’ would be. But, as I look at those events, now five years removed from my emotional ground zero, there is one thing that stands out. Time truly does heal all wounds and life does actually go on.

It just so happens I was sharing some parenting advice with a friend this evening. Her kid is having a tough time with peers at school, and I reminded her that getting through the tough times is what needs to happen in order to arrive at the great times. It’s just that all too often we can’t see the destination from where we stand today, especially when all we believed to be true is proven to be wrong. Still, as with those Dolphins teams in which I so passionately believed, there was always a next season. The promise of a brighter and better tomorrow is not a theory, it’s an eventuality. The trick is having the faith, patience, and courage to see it come to fruition.

It's Not At All Random

2011-01-18T22:56:00.000-08:00

I don’t believe in random. I mean I do, but I don’t.

Lotto balls are random. The way a snowflake falls from the sky is random. The things that come out of my nine year-old’s mouth are random. But life and our interactions with others are never random. That being said, I met Cate Colgan through the most random of circumstances.

At the time, I had no idea what a Tweetup was. Nevertheless, Lee and I trekked down to the Performing Arts Center in downtown Tampa for a Tampa Bloggers Tweetup. I blogged and I lived in Tampa, but I hardly considered myself a ‘Tampa Blogger’. Lee and I were both still relative novices in the whole arena of social media, but it was something to do so off we went.

Near the end of the event, we met Cate. We chatted with her a bit and exchanged information. I didn’t think much of it at the time. It was just another business card to add to the pile I had collected that evening. We had met a good amount of people at the event and I spent the better part of the drive home trying to mentally sort all the names and faces to which we’d been introduced.

Some time passed and Lee forwarded me information about a Social Media class. Again, given we were both eager to learn more, we registered for the class. It turned out Cate Calgon was part of the group that put together and organized the class. In fact, Lee came across the information for the class as a result of following Cate on Twitter and keeping tabs on her information.

This second meeting with Cate led to her inviting Lee, and by extension me, to join the Epic Thanks Tampa Bay planning organization. I was at first reluctant to commit to the planning and execution of such an event, but I am really glad I got involved, and it turned out to be quite a successful project. In addition to the networking opportunities that were created as a result of being a part of that organization, Epic Thanks also introduced me to a world of new people that are still a part of my daily life. I’ve made new and dear friends, and I would not have met all these people if not for Cate.

Cate has also been a role model for me in that she leads through example, is incredibly giving and selfless, and carries no ego with her. Given all she’s done and all she’s donated, both in time and money, Cate makes it all seem like it’s no big deal. She doesn’t walk around with a sense of superiority. Quite the contrary. Cate is always looking to deflect attention away from her and provide praise and cheer to someone else.

No, there was nothing random about what brought Cate Calgon into my life. I truly believe God allowed our paths to cross so I could:

Be an active part of a wonderful, non-profit organization and event
Be introduced to breathtakingly inspiring people who make giving of themselves their life’s work
Expand my knowledge, understanding and skill sets regarding social media, event planning, and event marketing
Create new opportunities, both personally and professionally, through the many people with whom Cate has connected me

I could easily add twenty more bullet points, but I am sure you get the idea.

To say Cate Calgon has made an impact on my life is an understatement. I’ve written before how thankful I am to her and for having her come into my life the way she did. I will say it again, however, because there are not enough words for me to properly describe how much of a ray of sunshine Cate has been.

Thanks again, Cate, for turning on the ‘giving’ switch inside of me, and for showing me how rewarding life can be when you make it about others.

The Chasm of Friendship Drift

2011-01-18T12:53:00.000-08:00

This blog post is a day late. The Day 17 topic of our 30 Day Writing Challenge is ‘Someone with whom you shared a friendship/relationship that simply drifted out of your life.’ As you’ll soon see, there is a reason I was not able to get this posted on Monday night.

The person that fits the subject of this post, let’s call her Mirabelle, is someone I met back in 2004. She was one of the first new people I met after my first marriage ended, and we quickly hit it off. I maintained a relationship with her through about the end of 2005 until, as the subject of this post suggests, we both just drifted away in separate directions. No rhyme or reason, just the final extinguishing of an ember that was once a flame.

It’s funny how that happens. Relationships that were once rock solid reduced, over time, to afterthoughts. It’s understandable when there’s an evident reason. I’ve been a part of a bromance that ended up in a dudevorce resulting from a misunderstanding and the subsequent battle of stubborn wills. I’ve dumped women and have also been dumped by them. With those, there was always a tangible cause and effect that makes clear why the relationship is no more. With Mirabelle, however, our friendship just faded.

It’s quite sad, too, when you think about it. We had the type of friendship where we’d call each other daily. She’d tell me about her issues at work and guys she was seeing. She’d lend me her ear as I continuously harped about my situation and the problems I was facing. We’d go out to dinner, sometimes with my kids, sometimes just the two of us. She once let me use her car to drive my kids down to Miami as it was much safer than taking them down in the little, one bench-seat Ford Ranger I had at the time. I introduced her to Sister Hazel. She introduced me to the TV show Firefly. We were, one might say, a good fit for each other.

When Mirabelle was faced with a big decision that impacted her career, I was the person she called to talk about it. We weighed the pros and cons of the decision, and with that she made her choice. She chose option A which meant leaving her current employer but staying in the Tampa area. Option B would have meant staying with her employer but moving back to the Midwest.

I like to think my life intersected Mirabelle’s for a reason, and vice versa. Last I heard from Mirabelle, she had met someone new and was about to get married. Perhaps it was my role in her life to advise her in her career choice, the one that kept her in the area and subsequently allowed her to meet her husband. Perhaps it was something else; a purpose I’ll never realize but one I believe was served.

I also like to think, mostly based on past experiences, not all new friendships are meant to last a lifetime. We meet, we interact, we impact (or get impacted upon), and we move on. It’s like the lyric from the Billy Joel song ‘Say Goodbye to Hollywood’: “So many faces in and out of my life, some will last, some will just be now and then. Life is a series of hello’s and goodbye’s, I’m afraid it’s time for goodbye again.”

This gets me to why I was not able to post this entry Monday night.

On Monday night, I was out meeting with a good friend of mine I hadn’t seen in quite some time. We don’t really live all that far from each other, but as with all things, she’s got her life and things going on and I have mine. We keep in touch via Facebook and the occasional text message, but for the most part it’s been a series of “we’ve got to get together” conversations. Well, Monday night we did just that. We set aside some time and made the effort to see each other. I am really glad we did because it was really wonderful seeing her. And if there was one thing my get-together with my friend provided, it was the opportunity to close the gap of ‘friendship drift’ between us.

There are some people in our lives that are just too special to allow them to aimlessly drift away, and sometimes all it takes is a tiny bit of resolve to say, “Let’s get together on this date at this time, period!” It’s funny how a little bit of forethought can help keep a relationship from becoming an afterthought.

Finding Peace in the Pages

2011-01-16T19:43:00.000-08:00

On September 3, 2004, following a two-year battle, my father, John Robert Gonzalez, succumbed to cancer.

The man that lay in that hospice bed those final days was, physically, just a shell of the man I grew up admiring. He would drift in and out of consciousness, unable to speak, until he finally laid his head back and took his last breath. With that he was gone.

With that, I was devastated.

I’d been to funerals before. I’d had close friends lose their parents. I’d lost very close friends myself at such an early age. Still, there is something surreal about having a parent pass away. It was a ton of bricks falling on me. It was having to face the reality this man, a man who was a constant in my life, would never again be there for me. Whenever I couldn’t figure out how to do something around the house, I’d give him a call. Whenever there was a big play in the Dolphins’ game, I’d give him a call. Every Sunday afternoon, I’d give him a call. Now there was no one for me to call ever again. Sad and surreal and so hard for me to come to terms with.

There was one aspect of my father’s passing, however, that did bring me peace.

In the final weeks of August 2004, I read Mitch Albom’s book “The Five People You Meet in Heaven.” It changed my life. I say that because it changed my ideas and perceptions about the afterlife and what happens in heaven. The book allowed me to think of a place we visit once we die, a place that summarizes and makes complete the life we lived on earth. It opened my eyes to the idea that dying is something we can look forward to because of the wonderful experience that follows our passing.

The story, and the manner in which it is so beautifully told, allowed me to more quickly find acceptance of the fact my father was dead. Rather than consume my thoughts with things I’d never be able to do with him again, I thought instead of who his five people are and what interactions he was having with them in the great beyond. It was almost a joyous feeling to think he was reunited with his mother, a spectacular woman whom he loved so very much, and the conversations they would share. It was fascinating in a sad but beautiful way. It was, for me, a source of strength at a time of loss.

Writing is a powerful medium, and the art of storytelling can be a very influential vehicle. It’s still amazing to me, as well as inspiring, that someone can put words to paper and, as a result, positively impact the lives of millions of strangers. That is what Mitch Albom has done with his books. He is a role model for me as an author, as a sports writer, and as a person; and I aspire so much to model my craft after his.

I hope and pray that I will one day write something that will be a positive influence on someone else’s life. I do this not for any sense of fame, gratitude, or acknowledgement, but rather because of my belief that doing so would make my father proud. After all, it will give us something to talk about when it’s our time to reunite in heaven.

To read the eulogy I wrote for my father, please click here.

Impacted by the Power of Music

2011-01-15T15:45:00.000-08:00

If ever there was such a thing as an obvious choice, the subject of this entry is it. The writer in me so desperately wanted to go with a twist or misdirection, but anyone who knows me would easily guess or tell you the band or musical artist that has impacted my life is Sister Hazel. I mean, it’s not even close.

This entry actually serves as a good follow-up to my post from yesterday. I went through some tough and dark times at the end of 2004, and it was the music of Sister Hazel that played a part in getting me through it. There were days when I felt like my life had come to a screeching halt while everyone else’s was going by me at 100 miles per hour. It was my ability to relate to the lyrics; to read, study, and understand those words set to music that helped get me through those dark days.

Diggin' in for another day
Carrying on in my own way
But you know me
I live and die nearly every day
Insanity, it's havin' its way with me

In 2005 I was able to introduce Lee to the music of Sister Hazel, and it became something we were able to share together. It allowed her to understand and get me a little bit better. It became for her, albeit after some initial reluctance, a place for her to find strength and comfort as well.

And when you're weak of holding on
Release your wayward soul
And spend your days not falling down
Before your empty idols

In 2006, Lee and I chased daylight on the way to the first annual Hazelnut Hang in South Carolina. We watched the sun set on the west coast of Florida, jumped in my truck, drove all night, and watched the sun rise over the beach on Sullivan’s Island in South Carolina. It was the first of what would become many Sister Hazel related adventures and experiences Lee and I would share together.

Sky fell down and pulled us in
Stole away my oxygen
And left me standin' breathless there with you
The ocean wrapped around the sun
The smell of June - the taste of your tongue
Was all I'd ever need

The music of Sister Hazel has not only been an inspirational vehicle for the two of us, it’s also introduced us to a circle of friends that cannot be adequately described with words. When I think about the people with whom Lee and I interact on a regular basis, for the vast majority of them, the common link is Sister Hazel. We either met them through or because of events that in some shape, way, or form tie back to that band that hales from Gainesville, Florida.

I’ve jumped out of a plane because of Sister Hazel. I’ve helped friends load a moving truck because of Sister Hazel. I’ve helped friends unload a moving truck because of Sister Hazel. I’ve seen friends meet, fall in love, and get married because of Sister Hazel. I’ve attended weddings of friends because of Sister Hazel. I’ve seen friends bring babies into this world because of Sister Hazel. I’ve shared tears at the passing of friends I’ve met because of Sister Hazel. I know it may sound weird from the outside looking in, but I can tell you it’s quite a spectacular feeling knowing I have this large, extended family on which I can rely and in which I can trust, all because of this one band that continues to put out great music and bring people together.

I honestly don’t know where I’d be without my Hazel family. I honestly cannot imagine my life without the myriad of people who fill my life and make it so wonderful and blessed. I think about how different my life would be if not for the music of Ken Block, Drew Copeland, Ryan Newell, Mark Trojanowski, and Jett Beres. When you stop and think about it, it really is a beautiful thing.

Worth Living For

2011-01-14T13:01:00.000-08:00

I remember how I felt that night back in late 2004. It was sheer and utter despair. Actually, it was several exits past despair. I felt depleted. I felt alone. I felt beyond lost. In my eyes, there was nothing left except the final bit of tequila that sat at the bottom of the bottle I held in my hand. I couldn’t cry anymore. All of my tears had already been shed. I couldn’t feel anymore, both physically and emotionally. It was my rock bottom and I had emptied out.

I remember picking up the phone, my hand trembling, not knowing what the right thing to do was. I didn’t care to know either. I dialed and left the following message. “Hey. In the event I don’t wake up tomorrow, please tell the kids I am really, really sorry.” With that, I plopped a handful of sleeping pills in my mouth and finished off what was left of the tequila.

I am embarrassed and ashamed of that moment in my life. It’s the one moment in my life I gave up complete hope in anything, and it’s the furthest away from God I’d ever been.

I look back at that night and thank God He spared me during my moment of insanity. I believe He did so as a reminder that life is a struggle, and that when it appears everyone else has abandoned you, He is always there.

I look back at that night with disgust for myself because I was blind to the one gift He gave me that serves as a reminder of His love for me; my kids. How could I have possibly thought it was okay to check out on them, the only two human beings in the world that have ever displayed true, unconditional love to me? It’s shameful that I even considered it.

I have a great job, a beautiful house, good health, a nice truck and so much more. I have a circle of friends that makes my life so amazingly awesome and helps me create wonderful memories. And I have a wife that is my best friend, my biggest fan, and my north, always helping me find my way when I think I can’t. Still, given all that, the one thing I truly live for is my kids.

I’d trade it all in for them. No hesitation, no questions asked. I’d be fine living as a homeless person if it meant my kids had food and shelter for themselves. I’d lie in a hospital bed the rest of my days if that were the only way to ensure my kids were healthy. I’d live alone and broken-hearted if it meant that was the only way my kids would find someone to love for the rest of their lives.

Now, before you go freaking out on me, please know I’ve had this conversation before with my wife and she knows how I feel. She supports how I feel. And I am pretty sure she loves me more because of the father I strive to be to my children.

My children have made my life worth living for. I am reminded of that every time I look in their eyes, and I am so thankful God allowed me the chance to remember that.

It's Just a List

2011-01-13T21:03:00.000-08:00

I thought I had some semblance of direction about what I wanted to write for this entry. I don’t have a bucket list, per se’, so I was going to write about the Be, Do, Have items we outlined when I was in the Change Your Mind workshop in August. This is basically a road map of what I want to be, what I want to do, and the things I want to have in life. It’s also the cornerstone activity for creating a vision board for myself. It’s a great exercise, but the more I thought about it, the more I managed to break it down from the tangible to the abstract. At the end of the day, I really want to Be good, Do good, and Have time and resources to do so. Long story short, this blog entry took a wrong turn in Albuquerque.

It’s seems the more I think about bucket lists and the whole concept of things I want to do or accomplish before I die, the more intimidating and overwhelming it becomes. What would be at the top of the list? Is there anything I wouldn’t do? Why put something on the list I know can never possibly happen (go to the moon)? Goals are great but a bucket list is not for goals (or is it?). See what I mean? I’m just confusing myself.

So I thought I’d approach it from a different perspective. Looking back to when I was a kid, have I done or accomplished the things that would have been on the list penned by the thirteen year old version of me? Let’s see:

Become an fighter pilot >>>> NOPE
Become an airline pilot >>>> NOPE
Play quarterback for the Miami Dolphins >>>> NOPE
Become a Wall Street big wig >>>> NOPE
Marry Justine Bateman (hey, don’t judge) >>>> NOPE

Wow. Nothing. Not even close. I look at this and wonder what pre-pubescent Gil would think or say. Would he be disappointed? Probably. Looking at my life now, am I happy? Most definitely. Given that information, do bucket lists really mean anything? Maybe not.

So I’ve come to the conclusion that bucket list is just another way of saying, “Dream Big!” It’s permission to envision yourself doing things you’d probably never otherwise consider. In its own way, a bucket list is not unlike a vision board. It’s a future event we so diligently want to make true. Still, life is what happens in between making plans and dreams, and the measure of greatness is not how many items you check off your list, but rather how well you adapt when life gets in the way.

This brings us back full circle to Change Your Mind. We are completely in control of how we choose to view the circumstances and setbacks in our lives. What’s important now may not be important thirty years from now. What we plan and aspire to do now may not be possible because of a higher calling we may not hear until later. It’s perfectly okay to dream big. Just remind yourself that it’s also perfectly okay to dream anew down the road. It’s all part of what makes life so fun and interesting.

I have to admit this entry was influenced by the fact Ken and Tracy Block and the team at 4th Street Training are in St. Pete Beach this week hosting a CYM Workshop. That being said, I hope you enjoy the video below.

Paving the Way

2011-01-12T21:48:00.000-08:00

There once was a man on the road to hell.

He paid no attention, stumbled and fell.

Of which it was paved there was no contention.

His road was paved with my good intentions.

When I wrote about resolutions at the beginning of the year, I laid out several goals I plan to accomplish before the end of the first quarter. As I look at the calendar, I am slowly starting to freak out. Rather than meticulously lay out a plan, focus on each step and deliverable, and complete the task at hand, I am instead worrying about whether or not I am going to get it done on time.

If inspiration and determination get things done, then procrastination is their evil nemesis. For some reason, my ability lately to follow through has been horrible. Even the little things are such a struggle. I allow myself to fall into the trap of “I’ll just do it later” and then it never gets done.

As I posted at the beginning of this writing challenge effort, I am severely lacking the discipline I need in order to develop a routine with my tasks. I’ve made putting things off and losing momentum on new projects an art. Heck, I started writing this entry over two hours ago. A little distraction here, a bigger distraction there; and now I find myself pressing just to get this entry posted so I can go to sleep.

What’s really bothersome is that I wake up every morning with the intention of hammering out every item that day. “This is the day I am going to get caught up on all those little, miscellaneous to-do items,” I tell myself. “This is the day I get it all done.” Then it simply never gets done. Those good intentions continue to be magically transformed into pavers for the road to hell. Once I realized I’ve wasted yet another day, I just get so mad and frustrated at myself.

It’s the same with dieting and exercising. I know what I HAVE to do. I know what I NEED to do. Still, for some reason, I let those fall victim to all the things I WANT to do. Better yet, I let those tasks I need and have to do be bundled into the forgotten pile of things I DON’T want to do. Out of sight, out of mind.

The solution is easy. Start on one task and don’t stop until it’s completed. Rather than looking at the whole and allowing myself to feel overwhelmed and shameful, I know I need to break it all into bite-sized pieces that are easier to manage. It’s not that I can’t or don’t know how to get it done. I simply make it too easy for myself to become lazy and/or distracted.

And perhaps me putting these thoughts online will make me feel more accountable for my inactions, and force me to do a better job of planning, executing, and ultimately delivering on every item I set out to complete. I need to transition from laying the bricks on the road to hell to realizing the successful completion of another item on my list.

Getting started is always the hard part. I’m not sure how I will develop that routine I seek, but I am sure I will figure it out …… tomorrow.

Thanks for the Compliment

2011-01-11T23:49:00.000-08:00

Thank you.

It’s a hard phrase to utter at times. Whenever given a compliment, I used to blush and deflect the gesture by saying something derogatory about myself. Rather than make the other person feel comfortable and at ease, I would find some way to make the whole exchange clumsy and awkward.

It wasn’t until later that I just happened to listen in on a conversation about that very topic. From it, I learned the simplest and kindest thing to do when receiving a compliment is to simply say, “Thank You.” There’s no need to downplay it. It’s definitely not proper to up-play it, either. Simply thank the person and move on in the conversation.

It would be the equivalent of giving a gift to someone and having them go on about how you shouldn’t have or they’re not deserving or they don’t know what to say. It takes away from the magical feeling you have inside when you’re in a position to present someone with a gift. You want them to simply enjoy it. Instead, they make an issue of it and the value of the moment is diminished.

I am blessed to be able to say I’ve had countless of opportunities in the last several years to say “Thank You” to people. It really should be something we keep track of over the year. Instead of receiving a W2 in January that details how much money you earned, it would be cool to receive some sort of statement that outlines the number of times in the previous year you were able to say “Thank You” to someone else. That would be a true measure of wealth.

As luck would have it, I’d say the majority of my thanks results from my writing efforts. Be it blog posts, the short novels I’ve written, or the occasional poetry, I am frequently complimented about my writing. It’s nice and it’s humbling. I know I’ve learned from my past, and whenever someone pays me a compliment, I quickly and succinctly tell them “Thank You.”

On occasion, the kind words are followed up with inquisitive ones or comments of self-doubt. I often hear from others how it is they love to read but are horrible writers. They go on and on about how they could never do what I do and just write. What’s really interesting is how they are willing to invest their kindness in me but not in themselves.

My wife used to be like that. She was handcuffed with imaginary shackles. She felt her writing was horrible. She said she didn’t possess the talent to write online. Yet here we are, ten days into this writing challenge and with her typing away every night. She is still developing her voice and style, but I think her work is amazing. She was able to tear down her self-imposed restrictions and just write, and this is what leads to greater success down the road.

If you’ve ever thought about writing, be it just for yourself or for the world to see, simply sit down and do it. Don’t worry about it being bad. Trust me when I tell you there are a million other writers that are worse than you. Writing begets more writing. It’s a process you’ll learn to love over time once you sit down and start writing.

The positive feedback you’ll receive will also inspire you to write more. It will motivate you to keep coming back, and the more you do so, the more your writing will expand and flourish.

Just remember, when someone says something complimentary about your writing, be sure you just say “Thank You”.

Change of Plans

2011-01-10T20:54:00.000-08:00

As part of our 30 day blog challenge, tonight’s topic was supposed to be about being a champion. I thought it would be a good fit given the BCS National Championship game is being played tonight. Truth be told, however, the topic is actually quite lame.

I was going to write about the experiences I remember as a child of winning league championships in football. I played four years for the Boys Club in Miami, and we won our league championship three years in a row. I was then going to transition to the blog I wrote about my son’s recreation league basketball team winning the championship a couple of years ago, and how watching him win felt better and was so much more rewarding than when I was his age and playing ball.

Still, as I sat down to write, I just didn’t “feel it”. I just didn’t find that groove I thought would come so naturally for me and this subject. That’s probably because my mind is still lost at sea. Lee and I just returned from our annual voyage on The Rock Boat, and it was such an excellent vacation that’s left me on such an amazing high. It’s not something I come off easily - nor would I want to - and I am still feeling blissful about the stellar memories I’ve just recently etch into my brain.

So I am going to completely ignore today’s topic and instead just rattle off some things I learned aboard this year’s cruise. At first, I was going to compile a numbered list. The more I thought about it, however, the more I figured I would just list thought after thought and see where we end up.

With that being said, I present to you my thoughts, observations, and random mind-clutter from The Rock Boat XI. (Warning: These memories are all over the place - happy, sad, funny, and weird - and go way past eleven)

• A drunken person will tend to do stupid things. A collection of drunken people will tend to do really, really stupid things.
• It’s okay to be late to the party. For years now, I’ve felt like I was missing out on something with regards to what my friends were saying. Finally, I had my breakthrough moment: Will Hoge is *bleeping* amazing.
• If I had to do it all again (career-wise), I’d make sure I ended up working for Sixthman.
• Smuggling booze on board DRAMATICALLY reduces the final total on your sail and sign card account (just say’n).
• There are guys on The Rock Boat that CAN walk around with no shirts on and then there are guys who can’t. I fall into the latter.
• Being able to just hang out, have a conversation, and share a drink with a musical artist is, value-wise, worth every last penny of whatever it costs to book a cabin. It’s all about the experience, people.
• Hearing two performers sing in perfect harmony must be what angels sound like.
• Live music can unite strangers, heal old wounds, give hope to the saddened, and reduce a grown man to tears. If you don’t believe in magic, it’s probably because you’re not listening.
• The phrase, “You don’t want to grab a guy’s junk via proxy” is one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard uttered in a bathroom. (Don’t ask …. you had to be there).
• Cap guns can be quite the attention getter.
• It’s possible to get goose-bumps on top of your goose-bumps.
• The age of digital photography is equally convenient as it is dangerous.
• Do not drink tequila that comes from a plastic bottle.
• Social media continues to make the world a smaller and smaller place. I was asked three times in line if I was @danaCreative. This was both kinda’ cool and kinda’ creepy, but mostly cool.
• Not sitting in the front row as Toby Lightman sings her song ‘Front Row’ is akin to watching the girl you’ve been crushing on kiss another guy.
• The idea of relaxing in a hot tub is great until you think about everyone else who’s been in the hot tub. Two words: Petri dish.
• Watching Aslyn sing ‘Wally’ on the Serenity Deck as the sun was setting and the waves were her back drop was literally breath taking. I think time stood still for a moment.
• It’s humbling to be able to ‘be there’ for friends. The beauty about the music community in which Lee and I partake is we get to interact with so many wonderful people, and every now and then we get to experience something deep and real.
• God doesn’t send memos. He simply presents you with a situation and challenges you to take action.
• There are few things in life that are better than Rock Boat pizza at 3:00 AM
• Inspiration is all around us at all time. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of just stopping and taking notes of what it is you’re seeing, feeling and experiencing.
• Sister Hazel still is, and forever will be, simply amazing.
• It is possible to meet someone in person for the first time after having known them for over four years but having it feel as if you’ve known them your whole life. I can’t put into words how amazing that feeling is.
• God works in mysterious ways, specifically in lyrics.
• God is a music fan.

I am sure there will be many, many more I’ll remember in the coming days, but this will have to do for now. Given this was supposed to be an entry about being a champion or being the best, I hope I didn’t fail with my ‘from the hip’ approach.

As for being the best, I can say without equivocation the team at Sixthman is the absolute best at creating experiences that will last a lifetime. They are the best at what they do, and they make it all seem so effortless. There’s no putting into words the positive impact this fun group of people have on the lives of others, and when it comes to creating something uniquely special, Sixthman definitely comes in first place.

Are We There Yet?

2011-01-06T08:55:00.000-08:00

I’m not living if I’m not looking ahead to some thing or to some event. That’s just me. I know I need to stop and smell the roses more often, and I need to appreciate the here and now; but I totally get off on that giddy feeling of planning something exciting and the days leading up to it.

Holidays are great. Musical acts coming into town are awesome. Kids’ sporting events are a lot of fun. I get to add those to my calendar and be reminded the purpose of getting through the work week is so that I can enjoy those moments of celebration, exaltation, and, as was the case last night, inebriation.

Still nothing quite compares to the trip on which Lee and I embark this afternoon. It’s an annual get-together with hundreds of our closest friends - which really are like family now - and we all pile aboard this ship and listen to music and drink and celebrate life and drink and share in the power of the musical spirit …. and drink. This get-together is a little thing we like to call The Rock Boat, and this annual floating music festival gets me amped up like nothing else.

Speaking of amped, this is the eleventh year of the cruise and the theme for the event is ‘Going to 11’. Like the rockers from ‘This is Spinal Tap’, this cruise goes that extra push over the cliff and all the way to eleven! As far as the cruising is concerned, the folks at Sixthman, the affinity travel company that puts on the event, have added a wrinkle to the party and have not yet announced to where we’ll be sailing. It really doesn’t matter. The ship could stay in the Port of Tampa all four days and it will still be the best vacation ever.

There’s something absolutely exhilarating about allowing yourself to be consumed by live music and sharing that experience with the people you love. In a nutshell, that is why I get so excited with anticipation for the Boat. In fact, I am telling myself to type faster so I can wrap up this posting and get going to the port.

Excitement is a good thing. I do concede it needs to be balanced (didn’t we just talk about that?) with allowing yourself to absorb the experience you’ve been looking forward to. It’s not like I am going to spend four days on the ship thinking about the next event I’ll be attending. Still, the rush of ‘are we there yet?’ makes it that much better.

As we’re still in the season of the New Year, I hope that you have a wonderful and exciting 2011 planned for yourself. Part of what makes us feel alive is wondering what life has in store for us next.

Somewhere in Between Left and Right

2011-01-05T20:46:00.000-08:00

Discretionary warning. The author of tonight’s blog is under the influence of several ounces of beer (he lost count) and several slices of pizza (Otis was buying). He’d like to apologize in advance for any excessive drivel that may be posted. Viewer discretion is advised.

****************

So. Tonight’s topic is balance. I was fretting because I realized I couldn’t possible write anything interesting (let alone funny and witty) about the inner ear. Then I remembered there are two parts of the ear that support the function of balance: the semicircular canals and the vestibule. What’s really funny - well, funny for someone who’s a twelve year-old boy like me - is that when you say vestibule, you can be referring to one of three things. There’s the vestibule of the ear, which refers to the central part of the labyrinth, as used in the vestibular system. There’s the nasal vestibule, which is the anatomical name for the nostrils. And then there’s the vulval vestibule, which is the anatomical name for the posterior of the labia manora. In summary, when you say vestibule, you’ve got an ear, nose and hooch situation going.

(I told you I was drunk when I wrote this).

Anyways, that’s not at all the type of balance I’m talking about. The question for today is what brings balance into your life? What keeps you sane? What keep you grounded? What keeps you from going off the deep end when things get crazy?

My answer can be described by two simple words: Laundry.

Yep. Laudry. Not so much the cleaning of clothes, but rather the folding of them. I love, love, love folding laundry. Yes, I know, I’m weird (and drunk, might I add). But seriously, there is something Zen-like about taking a basket full of warm, Lavender Serenity scented clothes (even the name is relaxing), and compiling little piles of folded freshness on my bed. It’s an exercise that serves a functional purpose AND clears my mind all at once.

Hey, laugh all you want at my OCD quirk, but I’m telling you, nothing sooths the soul quite like the folding of clothes. It’s one of the rare times I allow myself to be meticulous about being meticulous. I have piles for my white under shirts. I have piles for my regular t-shirts. I have piles for my t-shirts that used to be regular t-shirts but have now been down-graded to the pile in my closet that I use for household chores like mowing the lawn and washing the car. Still, they’re in a pile on their own …. right next to my polo shirts and my wife’s unmentionables.

But in all seriousness, I’d probably lose my mind without my laundry activities. With work pressures, social pressures, commitments to charities and volunteerism, parenting requirements, etc., the one true thing in my life that allows me to absolve my brain of the sensory overload is laundry. It’s my personal sanctuary. It’s my escape from everything else in my life.

So, as I sit here in a feeble attempt to sober up and with an ever so minute sense of sobriety overcoming my buzz (I still can’t feel my toes), I would like for you to consider what it is in your life that offers you balance and serenity, and what can you do to make it a more frequent part of your every day?

And if you ever have mounds of laundry you need folded, just give me a call. You can repay me in beer.

A Love for the Routine

2011-01-04T20:32:00.000-08:00

I approach this blog with trepidation. Following yesterday’s entry, it is obvious there is very little about my life and my day-to-day that is routine.

Perhaps that’s a good thing? Perhaps that is a blessing in disguise? Not having the same thing to do every day. Not having the same actions to perform like some robot on automatic pilot. Isn’t variety supposed to be the spice of life?

I guess there is some truth to that philosophy, but as I wrote yesterday, lack of discipline begets lack of routine which, in the long run, begets lack of accomplishment.

Still, there really is not one thing I can think of that is routine in my every day. I guess you can say pulling the covers closer to my body as I mumble the words, “I love you, too” to my wife as she heads out the door for her hour-long commute to work is routine. (I am a sunnavabitch, aren’t I?) I suppose fixing myself an obscene amount of coffee every morning as I try to get my brain out of first gear is routine. I would assume in the most abstract of cases checking Facebook, Twitter and ESPN.com every morning before I decide to tackle my real work can be considered a routine.

In all seriousness, however, structure in my day is as fleeting as the breeze.

There is one exception. It is something that, technically, can be categorized as dynamic, but the fact I get to do it every day - okay, almost every day - fills me with happiness, joy, and a riveting sense of completion. I’m talking about picking up my kids in the afternoon.

In order to understand what I mean, I first need to provide some background information. I’m divorced and my kids have primary residence with their mother. My ex and I are in the small minority of split-households with no concrete or court mandated schedule regarding our kids. Quite literally, we play every day by ear. For the most part, I pick them up every afternoon following school. Still, given how varied my social schedule can get, there is nothing really set in stone. My ex and I usually work out high level details the week before and coordinate on a day-to-day basis regarding the kids.

That being said, I so thoroughly look forward to picking up my kids and sharing the afternoon with them. I get to ask them how their day went, what new and interesting things they learned in school, and what’s going on in general with their lives. I get to help them with their homework and school projects. I get to cook them dinner and show off to them as we sit together and watch Jeopardy. It’s not always 100% like that, but it is a part of the responsibilities I need to complete as a dad, and it’s enough for me to call a routine.

The more I think about it, the more I know how lost I would be without that component in my life. Is it always convenient? No. Is it always fun? Not exactly. Still, it’s fills my life with purpose and meaning, and when I see the accomplishments of my children, be it in the classroom or on the athletic field, it fills me with such an incredible feeling of love that cannot adequately be put into words.

And love is the most appropriate word to describe this routine. I love getting to pick up my kids. I love being a dad to them. I love being in love with those two little people who are closer to being in college than they are to being in diapers. I know I have to cherish these moments. I need to absorb every ounce of emotion my time with my kids generates. I need to completely immerse myself in my role as father, educator, philosopher, counselor, and consultant to my kids. Their childhood only comes around once, and before I know it they’ll both be off to college, pursuing their dreams and taking their own steps into adulthood.

I’m afraid that when that time comes, my only routine will be to sit around and miss my kids.

When the Big Mo Becomes the Big Slow

2011-01-03T19:37:00.000-08:00

It’s tough to go back to work following vacation. It’s always tough to go back to school after an extended hiatus. It’s a challenge. More appropriately, it’s a struggle.

Struggle. It’s a word that just sounds sluggish. It even looks …. blah.

Struggle is what’s on my mind today. Following yesterday’s reflection on all that things I didn’t do, the natural thought process is to look at why I didn’t do them. What is it that keeps me from focusing on the task at hand or the goal that’s been set? And similarly to yesterday’s post in which I could have rattled off a laundry list of reasons, I think what I struggle most with is routine.

Working from home affords me a world of luxuries. I’ve come to accept it as my professional status quo - for now - and I really enjoy the perks of having no commute, sleeping in just a little bit longer, and always having a freshly brewed pot of coffee when I wake up (thanks again to my mother-in-law Patsy).

Still, the one glaring drawback of having my home office be my day office is that I really have no routine. Every morning is a little bit different. Every day progresses in its own way, meandering from morning to afternoon to early evening. Throw in the days when my kids are out of school, as they are this week, and any semblance of structure goes completely out the window.

What’s really bothersome is I know the underlying problem with the lack of routine, and my subsequent inability to deliver and produce the way I feel I can and should, is discipline. Discipline. It’s the opposite of struggle. It sounds cold, hard, and brash. It’s clinical. Hearing the word conjures up the image of R. Lee Ermy in Full Metal Jacket. Or better yet, of him in the Geico commercial as a therapist. All the while, I feel like the jackwagon looking for a way to mamby pamby land so I can get my ship in order.

What’s really interesting is that I can easily get fired up over a new project or some new venture. But it’s the lack of mental discipline that leads to no sense of real consistency which, in turn, leads to the total loss of momentum. If only I could bottle up the excitement and enthusiasm that comes with the feeling of new - much like this writing project Lee and I have undertaken - and draw from it when I fell my brain has down-shifted a couple of gears.

Perhaps that’s the real lesson here. Discipline, routine and consistency are easier to find when there’s the presence of the big stick called accountability. I am writing everyday in part because it’s a challenge, but also because I don’t want to disappoint my wife. We agreed to do this together and I don’t want to bail on her and all the hard work she’s put forth so far. What I don’t seem to understand is why it’s so easy to disappoint myself. Why is it that I can’t seem to hold myself accountable? That is the first struggle I must overcome if I am going to realize any real changes this year.

A Regretful Retrospective

2011-01-02T18:55:00.000-08:00

Shoulda’, coulda’, woulda’. When I look back at all the things not done and all the plans unrealized, I fall back on that old cliché. Shoulda’, coulda’, woulda’.

There was a lot of shoulda’, coulda’, woulda’ for me in 2010. Although I am pleased and proud of the many things Lee and I were able to do last year, I feel the number of items in the SCW pile far outweigh those marked as completed. I know part of the problem is wanting and attempting to do too many things at once. I know another aspect is my self-diagnosed ADD gets me started on plan A and before I know it, I’m wondering what to do with plan E.

If I had to narrow it down, however, I think one of my biggest regrets for 2010 is not finishing the fourth volume of my short novel series. I am sure I can go on for a thousand words with justifications as to why it didn’t happen, but the sad fact remains that Volume IV of Lives remains only a couple of pages into its existence. As I wrote yesterday, I will get this volume completed this year - early this year - but it really should have been done by now.

I look around the house and sigh at all the other things on my to-do list that fell by the wayside in 2010. We never got the home office redone (still a work in progress), we never organized and cleaned up the lanai (which is still littered with plants that were brought in because of the cold), and …. well, the list is just too long to cover.

I can put my finger on all the items listed above, but the one thing from last year that really makes me chagrin is not something tangible.

With all that I do, with anything I write, with any place I visit; it all begins with God. I know God is with me in all that I do. What bothers me most as I look back at 2010 is that I was not always with Him. Physical laziness may keep me from picking up that empty can of diet Coke that’s been sitting there for a week, but spiritual laziness will keep me from achieving everything I want to accomplish this year.

As I look back, it’s very obvious to me that I did not come close to doing my part in my relationship with God. I attended church in 2010 more than I had in the past five years, but it wasn’t nearly enough. There were times where four or five weeks would pass between the services I attended. Lee and I made financial offerings to our church and other charities, but I’ve yet to make giving back to God part of my financial priority. I prayed more in 2010 that I can ever remember, but I still don’t take 15 minutes out of every day to devote to Him.

It’s a bit ironic my single most important improvement from last year is also part of my biggest regret. Having been able to be a part of our church community for a full calendar year - Lee and I only started attending Relevant Church in June of ’09 - was so very rewarding. Still, it opened my eyes to how much further I have to go to be the Christ follower I want to be. To be the worshiper He wants me to be.

So, now that I have this spiritual kick to the butt to drive me, I revert back to my blog entry from yesterday and resolve to make God my priority first and foremost. He is already in all that I do. I pray I find the resolve to honor Him in the way I feel He’s calling me to do. Only then can I honestly know I am living a life with no regrets.

Getting Down to Business

2011-01-01T19:40:00.000-08:00

Resolution. It can be such an intimidating word. Worse yet, as we continue to celebrate the New Year, there is an unspoken requirement, like a giant elephant in the room, to make a list of resolutions for the next 364 days. It definitely takes a certain amount of … resolve … to stick with the fresh list of goals, promises and to-do’s that get compiled on the first day of January.

This blog post is my attempt to do just that.

I could go with some of the easy cop outs: Lose weight >> Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. Be a better parent >> All parents have room for improvement, but I think I am a pretty great dad and I have a wonderfully blessed relationship with my kids. Be more patient >> I can’t wait to tackle that one.

But in all seriousness, this is the year I get down to business. Personal business.

I’ve talked for some time now about making danaCreative an actual business entity. In the past, when trying to explain what danaCreative is, I’ve always stumbled behind the clumsy explanation of, “Well, it’s not live yet, but it’s going to be a creative writing shop that caters to small businesses.” Several yada-yada-yada filled minutes later, the other person would simple nod their head in polite disinterest and walk away.

Well, no more awkward, wannabe conversations for me. This year I resolve to A) Incorporate danaCreative as an official business, B) Specifically and explicitly lay out my business model, vision statement and mission statement, C) Establish separate business and personal web presences, and D) Get this all done before the end of the first quarter of this year.

In addition to getting my business off the ground, I also resolve to finish writing my fourth short novel and compiling all four of them into one, complete manuscript. I will, however, do it right and employ a professional editor and manuscript reviewer to ensure the finished product is something I can submit to publishers for consideration.

My final resolution - on paper, at least - is one over which I have less control and definitely falls under the category of dreaming big. Every year, the Florida Writer’s Association publishes a collection of stories, each with a different theme and different Person of Renown to keynote the collection*. FWA members submit their work for consideration and if selected, the work is included in the published book. This year’s theme is dialogue, and each entry will consist of dialogue-only submission (i.e. no narrative). What makes the contest even more exciting is this year’s Person of Renown is author W. Bruce Cameron. If you remember the ABC show ‘8 Simple Rules’ with John Ritter, Cameron is the guy who wrote that show.

So, now that we’re done with the tangible items, I think it’s important to mention the one thing that will truly drive me in 2011. As is usually the case, I draw much of my inspiration from my wife. Recently, she forwarded me a blog that discussed what it means to be useful. It’s definitely an inspiring read, and her comment on the blog definitely added to what I took away from that posting. All that being said, my ultimate goal for this year is to further be a resource for other people. Be it personally or professionally, I want to add value to every relationship in which I engage.

I recently came across a Twitter bio in which the person described herself as a ‘relationship engineer’. I was intrigued by this and I think it fits well with what I am looking to accomplish this year. I want to work with others to create solutions and engineer something positive for mutual benefit as well as the benefit of others.

I guess when it comes down to it, my ultimate resolution for this year is to be in the business of doing good and positive things. Let’s hope that when this year comes to an end, I can easily say that business is good.

* Visit http://amzn.to/fwa_collections to purchase the previous writing collections published by the Florida Writer’s Association

30 Day Writing Challenge

2011-01-01T17:08:00.000-08:00

I always complain, mostly to myself, that I do not write enough. “I need to write every day,” I mutter out loud. “Writer’s write. Just do it.” Still, even with the all the self motivation turned self loathing, I find excuses and reasons to not get it done. Peer pressure and accountability, however, add a whole different dimension to the mix.

Imagine my surprise - a very pleasant surprise, I might add - when my wife came to me and said, “I want to write every day. I want to launch my blog site and write something, anything, every day.” It’s kinda’ like going to the gym. By myself, it’s simply not going to happen. When driven by someone else, however, I may get around to actually doing it.

So this is a prologue to a challenge Lee and I have imposed on ourselves; to blog every day for thirty days. It’s a month of January show down. A blog-off, if you will.

As you might imagine, we had to come up with guidelines and a game plan in order to make this work. It’s very easy to run out of ideas if you’re trying to write on a daily basis. We also don’t want the blogging to be fluff or uninteresting. It’s for that reason we came up with the target road map listed below.

We also want to commit to this exercise and not make it overbearing, yet ensure the content is readable. For this reason, we agreed on word count parameters whereby each entry must be at least 250 words in length but no more than 1000, unless, of course, the power of inspiration kicks in and the piece basically writes itself.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out and thank our friend Rebecca Smith for the idea of this writing challenge. Her blog entry, Thirty Days of Truth, gave us a starting point for this project. Couple that with the writing project being covered by The Daily Post and we have a very solid framework on which we can build our writing challenge.

We go into this knowing full well we’ll fail - we’re on a vacation cruise from 1/6 - 1/10 - but we’re allowing for the brief hiatus. As for the other days in the month, here is what we plan to discuss. Let’s hope everything goes according to plan.

Day 01: Something you're looking forward to this year.
Day 02: Something you regret not having done last year.
Day 03: Something with which you struggle.
Day 04: Something that is part of your routine that you enjoy.
Day 05: Something in life that gives you balance.
Day 06: Something that excites you and fills you with joy.
Day 07: Vacation Hiatus
Day 08: Vacation Hiatus
Day 09: Vacation Hiatus
Day 10: Something at which you've been a champion or the best.
Day 11: Something about which people seem to compliment you.
Day 12: Something you hope to change about yourself and why.
Day 13: Discuss some of the things on your bucket list.
Day 14: Someone who has made your life worth living.
Day 15: A band/musical artist whose music impacted your life.
Day 16: A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 17: Someone with whom you shared a friendship/relationship that simply drifted out of your life.
Day 18: Someone you met randomly that's made an impact on your life.
Day 19: Something that shook your belief system to its core (a big disappointment in your life).
Day 20: Discuss your favorite movie and why it's so special to you.
Day 21: Write about your best friend (not significant other) and what makes them special.
Day 22: Describe a dark/turbulent moment in your life.
Day 23: Describe a truly spiritual moment in your life.
Day 24: Discuss a spontaneous moment in your life that that turned out to be fantastic.
Day 25: Discuss something you planned that ended up not being what you expected.
Day 26: How do you handle/deal with both success and failure?
Day 27: What is your vocation (why are you here on earth)?
Day 28: What is your biggest dream in life (what one great thing do you want to accomplish)?
Day 29: What WAS your biggest dream in life (you wanted to do as a kid but no longer can)?
Day 30: Someone in your family that means so much to you.
Day 31: Epilogue: Write a letter to yourself.

(1/31/11) - The following is a recap and review of our writing challenge, as well as a look ahead to writing in February.

Looking Back: A Recap of 2010

2011-01-01T11:44:00.000-08:00

Today is the first day of the New Year, and with it comes planning for the road ahead as well as a nostalgic reflection of the road behind.

2010 was an amazing year. Still, by comparison to recent years - those that saw me travel to Costa Rica and Mexico, get engaged and then married - it can be argued the previous 365 days were a little more low key. Nevertheless, it was still a spectacular year. It was one that opened my eyes to what is means to give and live in gratitude. It was also a year filled with continued blessings, timeless memories and, of course, music.

The following is a quick recap of some of the most memorable moments in 2010.

January
Lee and I rang in the New Year at home and with friends. It was a slight departure from what we’d done in previous years, but being able to celebrate the New Year with the kids and just be home was very nice. Shortly after we set sail on the Carnival Inspiration for The Rock Boat X. That was our fourth Rock Boat experience and it was fantastic. Not only is The Rock Boat the world’s greatest floating music festival, it has also become quite the family reunion for us as we get to share the ship with 1000 of our closest friends. Later in the month, I was very fortunate to have been featured at our local Barnes and Noble store as a featured local author. I got to meet some other Tampa area authors and sell a couple of copied of my short novel books. The month wrapped up with us taking in the Gasparilla children’s parade with the kids and friends from church. Music Experience(s) for the Month: In addition to the plethora of music on TRB, we also got to see Michael Tolcher perform at World of Beer.

February
We kicked off the month with a get-together for my birthday at the recently opened World of Beer Tampa Palms. This quickly became our preferred watering hole, especially since it’s less than five miles from our house. For the Super Bowl, we partook in a viewing party at the house of our friends Jeff and Ellen Wilson. It was low key and filled with great food and extended family. Lee and I were also very fortunate to have met celebrated zoologist Ron Magill. It was an excellent experience to have met him, and his presentation of ‘Sex and the Animals’ is a must see. Lee and I also took part in ESPN the Weekend, and my ESPN Insider membership allowed for us to once again meet and hang out with ESPN personalities Buster Olney and Matthew Berry. The month wrapped up with my daughter being selected to the All-Star squad of her soccer league. Music Experience(s) for the Month: Sister Hazel (House of Blues Orlando) and Corey Smith and Matt MacKelcan (The Ritz Ybor).

March
We opened the month by being thrilled to see our good friend Vic Scott sing the national anthem at a Detroit Tigers spring training game. He absolutely nailed it. We were even more thrilled to celebrate the marriage of our friends Jeff Wilson and Ellen Siefring. Their wedding was on the beach and just beautiful. Later that month, several of us got together at World of Beer to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, and a good time was had by all. Music Experience(s) for the Month: We were so fortunate to not only see NEEDTOBREATH and Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers perform at the State Theatre in St. Pete, but we also got to meet the members of Needtobreathe backstage and spend some time talking with them. In addition, we got to see, meet and get to know Sam Thacker, Tim Warren and Lani Daniels as they performed as part of the Rock by the Sea Road Show. We also took in a Sara Evans show at the Strawberry Festival in Plant City, as well as a show by Ingram Hill at World of Beer Tampa Palms.

April
April was slumber-ful. While Danny and I went camping with his Cub Scout pack, Lee and her friend Alyson took part in the Mix 100.7 “Mix Chicks” Slumber Party. Later that month, we traveled to St. George Island for the annual Rock by the Sea event. It was filled with wonderful music and a lot of money was raised for some very worthy causes. Although we did not go on the VH1 Best Cruise Ever, a new music cruise hosted by our friends at Sixthman, we did take part in the pre-party festivities. Music Experience(s) for the Month: In addition to all the RBTS artists, we also go to see Sister Hazel perform again, this time at The Ritz Ybor.

May
Event-wise, May was a more relaxed month. We had fun at a book signing by Mike Greenberg and Mike Golic of ESPN’s Mike and Mike in the Morning show, and it was cool to get a picture of the kids with them. We then traveled to Miami with the kids for my nephew’s birthday party. Music Experience(s) for the Month: NEEDTOBREATH at Vinoy Park in St. Pete.

June
If may was relaxed, June definitely was not. The month kicked off with Lee and me traveling to Enterprise, Alabama, for the BamaJam Music Festival. It was an awesome three days filled with great musical act after great musical act. The best part for us, however, was being able to see Zac Brown Band perform an extended set (they played for nearly three hours), being able to catch Train live for the first time (absolutely incredible show), and being introduced to the music of Beth Hart (she blew us away). There was also the added surprise of Michael Tolcher performing in the VIP tent area, to which we had purchased access in order to escape the sweltering heat. BamaJam was also made special by the fact we got to stay on the campground site with our friends Sterlin and Shannon Giles in their camper. We wrapped up the month with another trip to Miami for my twenty-year high school reunion. While there, we took in a Marlins game with the kids and Lee’s nephew Hunter, as well as an airboat ride in the Everglades.

July
July was a socially filled month in which we had the good fortune to share in multiple dinners with various friends. We also had fun with the second installment of the Rock by the Sea Road Show which once again featured Sam Thacker and Lani Daniels, but also included our dear friends Dirty Shannon in the line-up. We also kicked off activities with Epic Thanks Tampa Bay, an event and organization to which Lee and I volunteered our time, as well as with demolition and cleanup work at the facility that would become the new home of Relevant Church which is the church we attend. Music Experience(s) for the Month: In addition to the road show performances, we also got to see the Sarah Mac Band perform at Skipper’s Smokehouse in Tampa, one of our favorite quaint music venues.

August
August was a very introspective month. I had my mother come stay with us for a week, and she and I were able to share some quality time together which is something we rarely get to do. Having her here in order to celebrate her birthday was also very nice. My daughter also started middle school that month, and it was a lesson in acceptance for me as I wasn’t quite ready to have her move to that next level of growing up. The introspection continued as Lee and I attended the Change Your Mind workshop which was co-hosted by Sister Hazel frontman Ken Block. It was a great experience and allowed Lee and me focus on our goals and dreams and better align our daily activities so as to accomplish and realize them. Upon our return from that seminar, Lee and I got to meet Julia Rettig and Kirsten Becker, Tampa area authors who wrote Our Stimulus Package. Music Experience(s) for the Month: Tahoe Fox, Ingram Hill and Will Hoge at the Straz Center for the Performing Arts. Lee also got to take part in a meet and greet with performer VV Brown.

September
The month began with us once again sailing away on the Carnival Inspiration, but this time it was for Sailing Southern Ground, a music cruise hosted by Zac Brown Band. Similar to The Rock Boat, SSG was filled with tons of great music and we had an amazing time. Upon our return, we spent a weekend at the beach with our good friends (and extended family) Matt and Michelle Harrington and the kids. We took in several Tampa Bay Rays games towards the end of the month, and Lee and I continued our volunteer work with Epic Thanks Tampa Bay. Music Experience(s) for the Month: Joey + Rory at the Dallas Bull.

October
October opened several new doors for me as I participated in the Florida Writer’s Conference in Lake Mary, Florida. It gave me the opportunity to learn a lot about writing, marketing a manuscript, finding a publisher, etc. It also gave me the opportunity to meet lots of authors from across Florida and the rest of the country. Later that month we had a blast at the exceptional Halloween party hosted by our new friends Julia and Kirsten. October was also upgrade month for us as Lee and I both traded in our existing vehicles for newer trucks. Lee got a Durango and I got a Ram 1500. Music Experience(s) for the Month: While in Lake Mary for the conference, I had the chance to swing into Orlando to catch my friend Matt MacKelcan perform at The Backbooth.

November
November was a heart-warming month. It began with the wedding of our friends Heather Brenneman and Rob Sadler. In the middle, we saw the culmination of our efforts with the Epic Thanks Tampa Bay event. I am proud to say ETTB raised over $8000 for Halley’s K9’s for Veterans, an organization that provides trained service and companion dogs for disabled Veterans. That month we also celebrated the promotion of our friend Warren Soong to Colonel in the US Marine Corps with a wonderful get-together at his home. ETTB also featured live musical performances by Tampa area bands November Rush and Tahoe Fox, as well as our friends Dirty Shannon. Lee and I also took part in and contributed to Epic Thanks Day, which is an event that evolved from Tweetsgiving and celebrates the power of gratitude. We wrapped up the month with a trip to Miami for Thanksgiving at my cousin’s house. From there we traveled to Puerto Rico for the wedding of our friends Megan Stockton and Ricky Rodriguez. Music Experience(s) for the Month: Ken Block and Drew Copeland of Sister Hazel at The Venue in Clearwater.

December
The final month of 2010 gave us lots more music to wrap up the year. Lee and I joined our friend Jared Martin and drove down to Ft. Myers for the Almost Acoustic Christmas concert. The show included Christina Perry, Ryan Star, Sara Bareilles, and one of our new favorite bands Michael Franti and Spearhead. A serendipitous surprise with that event was running into our friend Shelbie Langlois whom we met as part of the CYM workshop. Later that month, we were blessed to have my sister-in-law Tammy and her son Hunter drive down from Alabama and join us for the holidays. The year wrapped up with Lee and me joining several of our friends at the new Hard Rock Café Tampa to ring in the New Year with Sister Hazel. The serendipitous surprises continued as we were gifted VIP access passes for the show. Music Experience(s) for the Month: November Rush at The Orpheum in Ybor.

Recov'ry Monday

2010-12-28T11:30:00.000-08:00

OK. What started out as a tongue-in-cheek joke via Twitter to the band Antigone Rising has now evolved as a result of their reply to me.

Not being one to ever leave good enough alone, I decided to modify the lyrics to the song 'Manic Monday' by The Bangles and offer it up to the wonderful women of Antigone Rising as a possible cover for them to perform on The Rock Boat.

Who knows where this will lead: Acclaim, adulation, Grammy nomination? Or maybe just cold shoulders and my wife filing for divorce on the grounds she had no idea I was this level of dork. Either way, enjoy.

----------------------------

Eight o'clock morning time
I haven't even packed all my bags
Now I've got to stand in line
This day's gonna be such a drag
But I can't be late
'Cause they're making me get off of this ship
This is the day
I wish I could just re-live this trip

It's just another recov'ry Monday
I don't remember Sunday
That was my rum day
I guess I'll learn some day
It's just another recov'ry Monday

Have to catch an early plane
Gotta' make sure I get home
Traveling is such a pain
When your head just feels like a stone
And this line to deboard
Is the longest thing I've ever seen
Standing with my suitcase
As we all listen to Andy Levine

It's just another recov'ry Monday
I don't remember Sunday
That was my rum day
I guess I'll learn some day
It's just another recov'ry Monday

All of the cruises
Why do I always have to pick the last night
To get torn
All the while knowing
That I have to get going
When it's the morn
So I tell you through my scratchy throat
Yeah baby, I love The Rock Boat
Time is goes so fast
When you're with Sixthman

It's just another recov'ry Monday
I wish it was Thursday
So we can all sail away
And have some more time to play
It's just another recov'ry Monday

Size Matters

2010-12-23T12:09:00.000-08:00

We live in a world where bigger is better. That’s what we’re told at least. We allow ourselves to become obsessed with enormity. Biggest ever. Tallest ever. We’re so infatuated with size, we combine words that describe largeness in order to make things even larger. Ginormous.

The great irony with this obsession is that as large as our planet is, it really only works the smaller it gets.

The annoying song from the Disney ride notwithstanding, I believe greatness in life can be found in the fact we live in a small world. With the ever increasing reach of technology and social media, the world gets smaller and smaller every day. It’s as if these sites are wrapping their arms around the planet and squeezing us all in a little closer, allowing us to better interact with one another, and inspiring us to do good for complete strangers.

Take, for example, the story of Jenny Lawson (aka The Bloggess) and how she turned the purchase of a stuffed and mounted boar’s head into $42,000 of gifts and toys for people around the world. The fact this was accomplished with no planning and almost completely by accident speaks volumes not only to the power of digital media, but also the overflowing generosity of people wanting to help other people.

A pre-cursor to Jenny’s story is how she decided to help a fellow blogger who was recovering from a stroke. Imagine my surprise when the blogger in question, Anissa Mayhew, is someone I know. I don’t know her personally, but I do know her husband. He and I were once peers at work, and we keep in touch through, you guessed it, social media.

In addition to the newfound three degrees of separation between Jenny Lawson and me - who, by the way, has been added to my list of people to admire - I am fascinated by what I continue to see, experience and read about as a result of social media.

Whereas the world was once ‘out there’, out of reach for the common, everyday person; it is now increasingly available to all of us who are willing to interact and collaborate with one another. It used to be the idea of one person making a difference was laughable. Now, it’s not only very plausible, but it is also becoming more and more commonplace as individuals with large vision and even larger hearts are harnessing the power of the digital age to do social good.

There are millions of things we can do and actions we can take to help make a difference in the lives of others. Although the options may seem overwhelming, I invite you to do one simple thing this holiday season. Introduce yourself to someone new and try to foster a new relationship with this person. It doesn’t have to be anything involved or in depth. Rather, simply make an acquaintance out of a stranger. This way, we will all be a little bit more connected, and the world will become just a little smaller as a result. After all, size matters.

Living vs. Existing

2010-12-20T20:03:00.000-08:00

I recently watched the movie “The Family that Preys” and there is a line in the movie that stuck with me.

“Are you living or are you existing?”

It’s a powerful line. It’s a powerful question. When you stop and ask yourself if you’re getting the most out of life or just getting by, it can bring to light a lot of other questions that were simply overlooked or, more poignantly, purposefully ignored.

There is no doubt in my mind I’ve lived a lifetime in the past six years. I’ve experienced so much, met a world of wonderful people, and discovered so many new things, mostly about myself. It’s amazing and such a blessing, and I am so grateful to God for guiding me through those tough times that preceded my personal renaissance.

Still, I find myself sitting here weighing so many different options and questioning just about everything. My confidence is rattled, my ability to deliver is faded, and I wonder if I can just step back from the living into the invisibility and anonymity of existing. For the first time in a long time, I am questioning my core. The depth of contemplation is cutting and real, and at this moment I simply don’t know what to do.

Well, I know prayer is the answer. Prayer and time. Still, it’s hard to be patient when you feel like you’re free falling and you just want to grab onto something to make it stop. Put another way, I know the lights will eventually come back on, but I don’t like sitting in the dark until they do. And with the uncertainty comes my irrational tendency to revert to “*shrug* Fuck it!” mode.

Am I going to finish writing that book? *shrug* Fuck it!
Am I going to finish remodeling the office? *shrug* Fuck it!
Am I going to make amends and try to be better? *shrug* ……

After all, I only need myself, right? Don’t worry. We all know that question is rhetorical … and idiotic.

The thing about self awareness is how it can at times be a swift punch to the gut. As I sit here and reflect and contemplate, I’ve got nowhere else to run. Through all the mental reasoning and justification, after building wall upon wall to hide behind, I am sitting here staring at this fortress I’ve constructed as a form of protection and all I see is how flimsy and transparent it is.

It’s the ostrich mentality. If I can just fade into existence and not have to deal with the noise that comes with living, it will all be okay. Meanwhile, as I proverbially bury my head in the sand, all I’ve done is stuck my ass further into the air. It’s not a matter of giving up because I know - in my brief moments of rationality - that giving up is not an option. It’s the fact I considered it to begin with that scares me.

Life can be overwhelming at times and I guess it’s our ability to persevere that helps define who we are. But persevering is never easy. It’s never exactly comfortable. It’s almost always a challenge that requires mental focus and the ability to absorb the bad in order to get to the good. It’s stepping out of the shoulder of just existing into the high-speed lane of living. I guess I just have to remember that I am capable of keeping up.

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

2010-12-09T11:18:00.000-08:00

Today has been an interesting day. It’s been one filled with reminders about decision making.

First, I read my friend Lindey’s blog about decision making (most excellent post by her, by the way). Her blog entry was sparked by hear reading today’s blog by Steven Furtick (again, a wonderful read). Then I stumbled across the story of Keith Fitzhugh and his decision to stay with his current job as a train conductor than join the NY Jets.

When you think about it, every day is just filled with different types of decisions. Beginning with whether or not to snooze in the morning, to what to wear, to what to eat; our days can be nothing but decision after decision after decision. For example, right now you’ve made the decision to take ten minutes out of your day to read this blog (and I greatly thank you for it). And if we stop to think about the constant process of having to choose we undertake ever day, it can become overwhelming.

As I was planning for a blog entry I want to write later this month, I came across, ironically enough, a blog I wrote years ago about making decisions, and given the theme of the day, I’d like to re-post it and share it with you.

For What It's Worth (Originally Posted December 21, 2005)

One dirty little secret that no one likes to talk about is that for everything in life there is a cost. Whether tangible or not, there is a cost for everything we do and everything we acquire. It’s inevitable. You may be asking yourself, “How so?” Let me try to explain.

In economics, there is the concept of opportunity costs. The cost of taking $1 million and investing it in an expansion to your restaurant, as an example, is what that money would have earned in interest had you just put it in the bank. Similarly, the cost of me going out and riding my motorcycle on a Saturday afternoon is the time I could have shared with my kids or someone else close to me. The reverse it also true. Time spent on such things as family obligations and so forth comes at a cost of individual freedom, personal time, etc.

The difference is that everyone’s level of value with regards to time and money is different. Some people value their time alone, be it for reflection or productive activities, whereas some people just love being in the company of others. Value is the key word here. Value, in economics, is not a tangible amount or number. Rather, it is the psychological equity we place on something. A homeless person places more value on a coat that will protect him from the elements than does a billionaire.

So it really comes down to perspective. As the cliché goes, all things are relative. The question is, what level of cost are you willing to endure for a valued – or more appropriately, desired – return? I have a friend who recently underwent a surgical procedure to correct a problem she was experiencing with her sinuses. Going into the surgery, there was the usual anxiety and headaches that arise from making sure all things are in order. Pre-op visits, blood work, etc. Then, following the surgery there is the typical discomfort and restlessness that comes with the recovery process. The end result, she hopes, is a better day-to-day life. No more issues with not being able to breathe properly or feeling like her throat is swollen. I am confident it will all be as expected, and in the long run she will look back knowing the ‘cost’ was totally worth the ‘value’ she realized.

Although that example is very clear-cut, most decisions in life are not. I believe the reason for this comes down to faith and believing the end result is worth the cost. “I’m not sure if I should. I don’t know if I can.” We all hide behind those words at times, especially when pressed for a decision. “I need more time. I don’t want to ruin anything.” It’s amazing how much more simple our lives could be if only we had more faith in ourselves, in our judgment, and in the people with whom we interact.

It’s not just about risk analysis or return on investments. It’s also about belief. That deep, strong, inner belief that lives in our gut and just tells us without equivocation, “You can do it. It will all be okay.” It’s the knowledge that although the initial ‘cost’ may be painful, it is temporary and will give way to the ‘value’ we seek. It’s okay to think about it. It’s okay to look at it five ways from Sunday. It’s okay to be deliberate in an attempt to be certain. But in the end, you still have to go through with it.

The funny thing is that value is not found so much in the result of the decision, but rather in making the decision in the first place.

Panna

2010-12-01T19:59:00.000-08:00

Colloquialisms are cool. They’re relaxed, informal forms of language that at times form a level of intimacy in dialogue. They can also be terms of endearment. In Spanish - specifically the Spanish spoken in Venezuela - the word ‘panna’ is a colloquialism. It means friend, but more so in the context of ‘buddy’, and it’s derived from the English word partner.

I was thinking of the word partner this weekend following a wedding my wife and I attended in Puerto Rico. During the ceremony, the minister made the statement, “Don't try to find the perfect partner for your life. Rather, try to be the perfect partner to someone else.” It’s one of those quotes that made me look at Lee, she at me and forced us both to hold back a tear. I also think it perfectly defines what one should strive for in a marriage. After all, a marriage is, at its core, a partnership.

This quote stuck with me the following day as Lee and I ventured up and down the streets of Old San Juan. If you’ve never been, the best way of describing Old San Juan is New Orleans meets San Francisco meets St. Augustine. The Spanish influenced architecture is prominent and made more stunning by the vibrant, deco colors of the buildings that are set on oftentimes steep hills. The balconies of the buildings are adorned with wrought iron and there’s no escaping the presence of the fort and protective wall that once surrounded the entire city. It’s an enchanting destination with a world of history, and I can’t wait for my next opportunity to return to Puerto Rico. Still, the best part of the trip was being able to share that experience with my wife and my partner. Or should I say panna.

I am so lucky and blessed to have the relationship I do with her, one where the formality of a partnership is purposefully ignored in favor of the comfort and intimacy of a true friendship. At its best, we finish each other’s thoughts and sentences. It’s no longer surprising to either of us when we do, but I will admit it’s still a little freaky.

At its worst, the fights we seldom have are quickly resolved because being mad at each other usually means being apart from each other, and being apart from each other almost always means being alone inside. This is not good for either of us. The relationship Lee and I share is one where we can only achieve together those things we cannot achieve individually. Our marriage is a working example of Aristotle’s concept of holism whereby the whole is more than the sum of its parts. That being said, Lee will tell you that at its worst the ‘hole’ in the equation is 100% me.

As we come off of Thanksgiving and gear up for the holiday season, I am so very thankful for my wife and everything she’s given me in the nearly six years I’ve known her. It’s hard to remember my life before I met Lee. It’s certainly impossible to imagine a life without her. As I think about all the things I want for Christmas, I know I already have the greatest gift of all. I have a panna I get to discover anew and enjoy every day of the year. It’s truly wonderful. Or should I say, colloquially, awesome.

An Avalanche of Thanks

2010-11-23T08:46:00.000-08:00

Avalanche. The word by itself is menacing and fear provoking. When you take into consideration the natural forces that make up and avalanche, the thoughts are even more ferocious.

An avalanche can reach speeds of eighty miles per hour in as little as five seconds. Its force is massive, its destructive capabilities more so. The thought of being caught in an avalanche of snow is nightmarish, but not all avalanches are terrifying.

I remember cartoons as a kid where someone would roll a snowball down a hill and it would turn into an avalanche. Although that is not how those floods of snow occur, there is some truth, metaphorically, to that animated depiction.

Think for a moment about an object set in motion, encountering other objects and applying its momentum upon them. The force of that object continues to spread and grow. Its impact expands exponentially and what began as a tiny, little snowball transforms into a mammoth avalanche. Now, substitute the object with a person’s vision and dream. Next, consider the impact, reach and influence this dream has on others when coupled with persistence, determination and a sincere sense of giving. The results are not catastrophic. Rather, they’re quite epic.

There are a great many things for which I find myself thankful. The list is almost too long to mention, and if I started today I would most likely not be done by next year’s TweetsGiving celebration. Still, I would be remiss if I didn’t take some time to mention one person in particular to whom and for whom I am incredibly grateful.

I met Cate Calgon (@CateTV) on a whim. There was a Tweet-up event my wife and I thought would be interesting to attend. We went, we mingled, and we walked away with a handful of business cards. As we were leaving, we bumped into a woman we later would be able to describe only as eccentric. She was kind, charming, and spoke a million miles per hour. This casual encounter later led to an invitation to a social media class she’d organized. After that, a wonderful new relationship was born.

Cate Calgon is the driving force behind Epic Thanks Tampa Bay. The event that celebrated a local Changemaker was born from her vision, and the fact a team of volunteers was put together to make it happen was a result of Cate’s unrelenting resolve. Like a snowball at the top of a hill, Cate put into motion a dream that became reality and culminated in an avalanche of giving and goodwill.

Cate also begat a community of individuals who’ve not only given tirelessly of themselves to make Epic Thanks Tampa Bay happen, but have also planted the seed of something great for years to come. It is an absolute honor and privilege to be a part of this community, and words cannot begin to express how thankful I am for being given the opportunity to help make a difference. Being a part of the ETTB team has been incredibly rewarding and inspiring. It’s opened my eyes to the many individuals and groups that are working every day to make a positive impact in the lives of others, and it has also introduced me to a set of peers that I’ve grown to consider family. I don’t think any of this was by design, but just as an avalanche moves with controlled chaos, so does Cate’s influence and impact go wherever it needs to go.

Cate’s a connector, always looking to put a person in need in touch with a person who’s able to satisfy that need. Cate is a visionary. Her thoughts and ideas are large scale, and it’s been a fun challenge to ask her at times to rein that vision in. Most importantly, Cate is a friend. She is a friend you can count on. She is a friend you can trust. And on this day of Epic Thanks, I am forever thankful to be able to call her my friend.

Turn the M Upside Down

2010-11-10T13:16:00.000-08:00

To me, writing is a lot like exercising. I may not necessarily enjoy the physical act of writing, but I do feel a huge sense of accomplishment once I’m done. It’s the satisfaction of having written that I find gratifying. The process of writing, by contrast, can be arduous and even grueling at times.

Just like when you’re in the middle of sit-ups or on mile four of a six mile run - neither of which, by the way, I’ve done since college - there is a sense of despair that can sneak into your thought process once you begin writing. “Should I keep going? Should I quit? Does it matter?” It’s a mental poison that clouds the vision of the goal and can make gravity feel a thousand times more powerful than it is.

Still, through it all, we press on; one more crunch, one more step, one more word.

I miss writing. I wish I had a routine by which I could sit down and just write every day. I am not sure that will happen anytime soon, but I do wish I could drive myself to write with more frequency. I casually call myself a ‘blogger’, yet one post a month does not a blogger make. Bloggers write with regularity. They are timely and current. They generate readership by providing new content. I’m not a blogger, I’m a glorified hack.

As I look back, however, as to why I haven’t written much lately, it turns out I actually have. I just haven’t written much for myself. Most of my recent writing has been within the scope of extracurricular projects. I’ve volunteered my time for a charity organization and event, and I’ve poured much of my imaginative process into that effort. That’s left little time and creative juice for my personal writing. As it turns out, though, that’s quite fine with me.

I’ve come to learn if there’s one thing more rewarding than writing for me it’s writing for others. Being a contributor to this charity effort has not only provided me with a new level of satisfaction as a writer, it has also opened doors and created new opportunities I’d never previously considered. As the title of this post suggests, it’s allowed for my writing to go from being about ‘me’ to being about ‘we’. It’s also served as a microcosm of what I want my life to be as a whole, where my actions are more about giving and less about taking, where my focus is more about seeing others than looking at myself.

Don’t get me wrong. I still aspire to one day make writing my day job, and I still get a thrill when I am able to produce a piece that provides me with the ego stroke I oftentimes crave. I still plan on writing that next short-novel, and I understand there is a certain aspect of ‘look at me’ in the process of marketing oneself as a wordsmith. That being said, I feel less of a rush to make all that happen and more a desire to lend a helping hand, even though that help may come one keystroke at a time.

Just like that upside-down ‘M’, a change in perspective can make all the difference.

When Betrayal and Chaos Intervene

2010-09-27T22:34:00.000-07:00

Betrayal. It is a word that almost immediately invokes a negative response in people. To have been betrayed is to have experienced an action or event that was previously deemed impossible. We often times hear of betrayal in the context of marriages or in the syntax of politicians, but sometimes it is the inanimate and the unseen that does the betraying.

Chaos. Like betrayal, chaos is oftentimes met with the sickening feelings of confusion and fear. Chaos can be unpredictable. Chaos can be confusing. Chaos is almost always terrifying.

In our world of mixed messages and media overload, where dissertation has given way to 140-character annotation, there still remain some old-school principles in our day to day lives. In a ‘me-centric’ society, it’s uplifting to hear about a stranger sticking up for the little guy. That is, of course, unless betrayal and chaos have anything to do with it.

On September 26, David James was enjoying a Sunday evening with his daughter, playing basketball in the park of his Valrico (Tampa) subdivision. Also enjoying the park were some skateboarders, much to the chagrin of neighbor who attempted to chase them off the courts. 41 year-old James, just recently retired from twenty years of service in the Air Force, came to their defense. It was the right thing to do; stand up for the little guy who is being attacked. It was the common sense thing to do.

That Sunday evening, David James was betrayed by his common sense.

The neighbor in question, adamant in his desire to rid the court of the skateboarders, pulled a gun. The details of exactly what ensued are not known except for the cold and terrifying fact that James was shot and killed as a result. Even more horrifying is the fact this was all witnessed by his eight year-old daughter, who proceeded to retrieve her father’s cell phone from his pocket in order to call her mother, all the while enveloped in the arms of chaos.

I never met David James. I did not know him but I know people who did. It’s for that reason, in part, I felt compelled to write about him and the tragic circumstances that ended his life.

I believe there is a special place in Heaven for individuals who lose their lives for the sake of others. David James was coming to the defense of kids who appear to have been minding their own business and simply looking to have some fun with their skate boards. Still, I can’t help think, with my retrospective, 20/20 glasses, what would have happened had James simply minded his own business and kept to himself.

You can’t predict and you can’t control crazy. The events that unfolded that Sunday evening were chaotic and not any kind of normal. James had no way of knowing or foreseeing that his acting on instinct would ultimately cost him is life. Like he did for 20 years in uniform, David James exemplified courage and honor in stepping in to defend the skateboarders, for anyone can look away and ignore a situation of conflict, but it takes real bravery to intervene on someone else’s behalf.

For the rest of us, we play the result and say James acted inappropriately. We look at what happened and think he made a mistake with his actions. However, right is right and just is just. The betrayal by common sense and the chaos that followed does not make the intentions David James carried any less worthy.

I hope this is something his daughter will never lose sight of as she begins the rest of her life with one less hero to guide her. My heart goes out to her. I hope she also remembers that in the whirlwind of chaos, there is one force that exists to offset the terror and allow peace to settle the situation. That force is prayer, and I ask you all join me in saying a prayer for her and her widowed mother in this time of intense grief and confusion. Ironically, I stumbled across an anonymous quote I feel is appropriate for her as she attempts to make sense of everything that transpired.

"God can heal a broken heart, but He has to have all the pieces." – Unknown

Rest in Peace, David James. You were loved and admired, and you will most certainly be missed.

For more information about this incident, please see tampabay.com (Piece 1 and Piece 2 and Piece 3)

What Inspires You?

2010-09-14T23:42:00.000-07:00

Please visit my guest-post for Epic Thanks Tampa Bay.

Epic Thanks Tampa Bay is a volunteer organization that is raising funds for a local changemaker in Tampa Bay and for Epic Change. Through sponsorships and our event on November 19th, we will transform the life of a local changemaker and support the work they’re doing in a way they never imagined.

Change Your Mind

2010-08-22T15:54:00.000-07:00

It’s not your life … it’s how you choose to look at your life.

It’s pretty amazing what a little change in perspective can do. It’s really amazing what the power of thought can do. These are principles I’ve known for quite some time now, but it was only until recently that I had the opportunity to truly study them and learn to use them in my day to day life.

I’ve been a fan of the band Sister Hazel for quite some time now, and I make no secret about how their music and the community of Sister Hazel fans – affectionately known as Hazelnuts – have had such an incredible influence in my life. One of Sister Hazel’s songs in particular that has been an inspirational beacon to not only myself but to so many others is ‘Change Your Mind’. It’s a song about perspective. It’s a song about point of view. It’s a song about letting go of all the noise that tends to make blurry our priorities and finding clarity in the simplicity of taking a new and different look at our lives.

“Did you ever think there might be another way to just feel better, just feel better about today?”

Over the course of the last several years, Sister Hazel frontman Ken Block, in collaboration with his wife Tracy and his friends at 4th Street Training, Dave Neal and Ray White, has developed a workshop for personal betterment that is centered on the principles of ‘Change Your Mind’. I recently had the privilege of participating in the pilot program for this workshop, and to say it was life-changing would be an understatement.

I’ve always considered myself a very fortunate individual with a personal history void of major hurdles, trauma and catastrophic events. I am very blessed and my life, for the most part, has always been in what I would consider a good place. I did not go into the workshop feeling lost or confused or seeking some higher form of enlightenment. Quite the contrary. I was bursting with excitement and anticipation knowing how much the song has meant to me and so many others, and eager to see how the workshop would be built around the concept of positive thinking. To put it simply, my expectations were met and exceeded, and the whole experience was so positively overwhelming.

From the beginning, the workshop was an exploration into my priorities and core values; understanding what is truly important to me and how I can incorporate those values into my life journey. It was an exercise in aligning my goals and dreams with these core values, and making sure my thoughts and actions support both the short and long term vision of who I want to be and what I set out to accomplish. The workshop showed us how to dream big and then create a plan to realize these dreams. It was eye-opening, thought provoking and, most importantly, inspiring.

It was also very rewarding in many different levels. Having had the privilege of knowing Ken Block for several years, it was very cool to be able to see and appreciate the person he was during the workshop. Ken is well known for being an open, humble and approachable musician. I imagine whatever ego he has is something he displays behind closed doors. Still, during the workshop we got to see Ken Block, the man with the Master’s degree in counseling and the person who lives with a spirit of giving back and doing positive things for others. He was still his fun-loving and jovial self, but it was great to see him be also very deep and passionate as he addressed the group. Pair this with the focus and energy from his wife Tracy, the superb presentation and group management skills of Ray White, and the excellent ‘behind-the-scenes’ work of David Neal and Danny Thomas, the Change Your Mind workshop was an experience like no other.

The best part of CYM is that it does not stop once the workshop is over. The program is designed to be ongoing, with the community of CYM participants working together to support each other’s visions, and to continually make better the program as it grows and evolves over time. Whether you feel stuck in a rut or that life is good and on cruise control, the CYM workshop has something for everyone. It is a program I highly recommend. If you’re unsure about looking into the workshop, just remember that changing your life is as simple as changing your mind.

Please follow these links for more information on Sister Hazel, Ken Block (Facebook), 4th Street Training and the Change Your Mind workshop. You can find the CYM workshop on Twitter at @ExperimentCYM

You know you're a Floridian if . . .

2010-08-17T14:51:00.000-07:00

This is borrowed from an email I received. As a native Floridian (and former resident of Dade County), it’s all true! Enjoy.
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You know you're a Floridian if . . .

Socks are only for bowling.

You never use an umbrella because the rain will be over in five minutes.

A good parking place has nothing to do with distance from the store, but everything to do with shade.

Your winter coat is made of denim.

You can tell the difference between fire ant bites and mosquito bites.

You're younger than thirty but some of your friends are over 65.

Anything under 70 degrees is chilly.

You've driven through Yeehaw Junction.

You know that no other grocery store can compare to Publix.

Every other house in your neighborhood had blue roofs in 2004-2005.

You know that anything under a Category 3 just isn't worth waking up for.

You dread love bug season.

You are on a first name basis with the Hurricane list. They aren't Hurricane Charley or Hurricane Frances. You know them as Andrew, Charley, Frances, Ivan, Jeanne, Wilma, Irene and Rita.

You know what a snowbird is and when they'll leave.

You think a six foot alligator is actually pretty average.

'Down South' means Key West

Flip-flops are everyday wear. Shoes are for business meetings and church, but you HAVE worn flip flops to church before.

You have a drawer full of bathing suits, and one sweatshirt.

You get annoyed at the tourists who feed seagulls.

A mountain is any hill 100 feet above sea level.

You know the four seasons really are: Hurricane season, love bug season, tourist season and summer.

You've hosted a hurricane party.

You can pronounce Okeechobee, Kissimmee, Withlacoochee, Tohopekaliga, Econlockhatchee, Thonotosassa and Micanopy.

You understand why it's better to have a friend with a boat, than have a boat yourself.

You were 25 when you first met someone who couldn't swim.

You've worn shorts and used the A/C on Christmas and New Years.

You recognize Miami-Dade as 'Northern Cuba.'

Don’t Hate

2010-07-29T21:37:00.000-07:00

I am going to begin this blog entry with a disclaimer. Yes, I am a fan of the Miami Heat. Yes, I was born and raised in Miami. Yes, although I currently reside in Tampa, my sports allegiance – with the exception of the Rays in the American League – resides in South Florida. I am an unapologetic Miami homer.

Now, with all that having been said, is there any more asinine and ridiculous column than the one written by Phil Taylor at SI.com about the Miami Heat? (see his full column here).

Mr. Taylor goes on to write, with what I can only hope is tongue-in-cheek disdain, about the new collaboration in South Florida sports: Dwyane Wade, LeBron James and Chris Bosh joining forces in Miami. He talks about loving gifted players who chase greatness, and thus this leads him to hate the Heat? Really? LeBron James making the choice to be a villain, making the choice to take less money, and making the choice to step out of his back-to-back, two-time MVP spotlight in pursuit of multiple championships is a bad thing?

See, this is a perfect example of the complete hypocrisy that exists in the world of sports journalism today. To be clear, I am not a journalist nor do I claim to be one. Still, I’ve been a sports fan and a student of sports media long enough to be able to speak about this matter with a certain, weekend-warrior level of confidence.

We implore our celebrity athletes to be open and honest. We chastise them as greedy when they leave championship caliber organizations in pursuit of more money (see former 49’er Ricky Watters, former Cowboy Larry Brown and former Buccaneer Dexter Jackson). We hold them to higher moral standards than we do ourselves. Yet, when LeBron James makes the gut-wrenching decision of admitting he cannot, by himself, achieve the level of greatness he seeks, when he reveals a level of humility and vulnerability that is rarely, if ever, seen in an athlete of his stature, our first response is to vilify him. Admittedly, the delivery of the message was awful. ‘The Decision’, as aired by ESPN, was a nightmare, and the reception in Miami, a party which was indeed wretched and grossly premature, was embarrassing. However, the court-jester messenger should not take away from the message; that being what LeBron did in leaving Cleveland for less money, less spotlight and a ton of hatred is unprecedented in modern day sports.

Speaking of money, Mr. Taylor goes on his column to minimize the financial sacrifice the Miami Three have made in order to play together. “I hate that we have become so accustomed to the overwhelming greed of superstar athletes that when the Heat's threesome accepts roughly $110 million each when they could have had closer to $120 million, some people want to fit them for angels' wings,” he writes. Let’s analyze that for a moment. Mr. Taylor is suggesting – scoffing really – that $10 million dollars is nothing for these already wealthy, superstar athletes. When you look at the $10 million as a percentage of the total contract (9%), things aren’t quite so clear. I have no idea of how much Mr. Taylor earns yearly as a writer for SI, but I wonder if he would flippantly shrug and say “No big deal” if Sports Illustrated asked him to take a pay cut of 9%. That would be the equivalent of going from a $100k salary to that of $91k. I am hard pressed to find anyone I know in my circle of friends who would voluntarily take that type of pay decrease in pursuit of a passion or dream. It’s rare.

Mr. Taylor goes on to dismiss the idea that players coming together, collaborating as friends and sacrificing collectively in pursuit of greatness, as something to be celebrated. “If the NBA turns into a top-heavy league, I'll hate the Heat even more for starting the process.” What? Why doesn’t he instead direct that hate to Danny Ainge, the general manager of the Boston Celtics who made key moves to obtain Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen, establish the modern day NBA model of the ‘Big Three’, and subsequently win an NBA championship? Do you think Pat Riley would have been inclined to aggressively dump salary and clear cap space in Miami had it not been for the precedent set by the Celtics?

Furthermore, Mr. Taylor indirectly bashes D-Wade, LeBron and Bosh for wanting to play together. My counter argument is this. With the exception of Peter King, why does anyone still read Sports Illustrated? Steve Rushin is gone. Rick Reilly is gone. Sports Illustrated as a media entity has slipped. Does Mr. Taylor mean to suggest that if Rick Reilly were to call him up and offer him the opportunity to write columns for the pages of ESPN the Magazine, in collaboration with Reilly and Steve Rushin, he would turn down the offer and cite the argument of pursuing greatness on his own? Seriously, any national sports writer who has less Twitter followers than I do (and I’m a nobody) is not going to achieve greatness on his own.

Finally, we get to the point where Phil Taylor starts to make some sense. He describes Miami as a city full of front-runner loving, bandwagon jumping, hype-engulfing fans. Mr. Taylor, tell me something I don’t know. Have you BEEN to Miami? That city redefines vanity. The only thing shallower than water in a puddle is the general approach to sports fandom in South Florida. Much in the same way men on South Beach pay a gross amount of attention to women with cinnamon tans and implants, all the while ignoring women who tend to not be surgically enhanced, Miami fans will love a team when it’s winning and not give that same team the time of day when it’s losing. That’s Miami. If you don’t have the bling, the glitz and the glamour, don’t bother. LeBron, DWade and Chrish Bosh ARE the bling, the glitz and the glamour. Of course all Heat fans are going to be infatuated with that. It’s what we do best.

Mr. Taylor, I know I was rough on you with my blog. For that I apologize. Still, hate the Miami Heat all you want because I am going to love, love, love reading what you have to say next summer when the ‘Three My-Egos’ (as you put it) are celebrating their first NBA title.

Epic Thanks Tampa: An Exciting New Endeavor

2010-07-25T17:45:00.000-07:00

Asante.

It’s a simple enough word to say. Even without knowing what it means or the language from which it comes, there’s a rhythmic flow to the three syllables that make up the word.

Asante.

It’s all too easy to get lost in the clichés of our day to day. The rat race, the hustle and bustle, the daily grind; we so easily allow ourselves to be consumed and enveloped by the arbitrary parameters these clichés impose on our lives. We’re too consumed to notice, and so oftentimes too busy to care, about not only the environments and communities in which we live, but also the many individuals that stand to benefit from our actions.

When I stop to look back at my life and the many blessings with which I’ve been graced, it’s overwhelmingly apparent to me that much, if not all, of what I have, value and possess was made possible by others. Parents, sibling, spouse, friends; they’ve all contributed in small part and in large to the life I find myself living today. My moment of reflection and introspection can best be summarized to just one word. To three little syllables. Asante.

Thank you.

The list of things for which I am grateful is endless. From the smallest item to the largest accomplishment, I am thankful for the combination of opportunities, series of events, and generosity of others that made it all possible. It’s with complete gratitude on which I look back on my life, and it is in the spirit of this gratitude with which I set forward on a new and exciting endeavor.

I am so thrilled to be a part of the team working on Epic Thanks Tampa (ETT), an event scheduled to take place on November 19 to celebrate all it is for which we are thankful. ETT is also a charity fundraising event to benefit both the EpicChange organization as well as a local change-maker in our area. What is a change-maker? A change-maker is a person or group that selflessly devotes their time and resources to positively impact the lives of others. In keeping with the mission of the EpicChange, the ETT event seeks to identify one Tampa area change-maker and amplify their voice and impact on the community. There is a lot of work to be done between now and November 19, but we are confident that we’ll not only get it done, but also the event will be spectacular.

There is a ton more information about Epic Thanks Tampa (http://www.epicthankstampa.com/) coming soon, as well as the efforts currently being made in Tanzania by EpicChange, so please stay tuned for more details. I also hope the efforts of all involved inspire you to contribute in your own way, because at the end of the day, it’s all about gratitude.

Asante for reading.

Wishful Thinking

2010-07-09T10:10:00.001-07:00

Perhaps it's the unavoidable need to entertain the pessimistic voice in my head. Perhaps it's the Friday morning hangover following the single-most celebrated free agency acquisition in the history of the NBA. Perhaps it was the 5 pints of beer I consumed while feverishly watching 'The Decision' on ESPN. Whatever the reason, I find myself hurling back to earth following the high of LeBron James deciding to play for the Miami Heat.

I am a Heat fan. I am a fan of all teams from South Florida. Although I reside in Tampa (Go Rays), my sports heart will always be tied to the 3-0-5 and the franchises that call Miami home.

The euphoria with which the news of LeBron James' decision was received in South Florida is understandable. The idea of a super-trio of basketball stars sharing the court at the American Airlines Arena, three friends, all Olympic gold medalists, paving the road toward more championship hardware. It is Miami's own dream team. The question, however, is simple. Can Dwyane Wade, LeBron James and Chris Bosh avoid the slippery slope that can quickly devolve this dream scenario into a nightmare for Pat Riley?

This has nothing to do with ego. What these three professional athletes have done is unprecedented. They have left money on the table – millions of dollars in salary – for the opportunity to win championships. Not just one title. Multiple titles. And that is where the intricate planning of Pat Riley, a plan he set in motion over two years ago, can all come unraveled.

From here on forward, the expectations are simply ridiculous. Anything short of an NBA title will be viewed as a failure. Anything short of multiple titles will be viewed as a failure. There's no argument these three players, all of whom are in their prime, are capable of delivering two or maybe three NBA championships to South Florida. Still, what happens if they don't?

The situation staring the Miami Three in the face is akin to the joke by comedian Eddie Izzard: Cake or death? There is no middle ground. There is no acceptable level of accomplishment that does not culminate with obtaining a ring. LeBron has reached the NBA Finals on his own. Chris Bosh has experienced early playoff exits in Toronto. Yes, Wade has a ring, but it's a title marred in some circles by the questionable officiating of the 2006 finals and the 'Stern hates Cuban' conspiracy theorists.

In a culture where winning is everything, Pat Riley and his Heat are in a no-win situation. If they deliver one title, it will be celebrated but diminished by the expectation of the ones still to come. If they don't win titles at all, then this will all be regarded as a colossal failure and the media backlash will be more insufferable than it already is. Their only option is to win a slew of titles over the next five years. Only then will everyone be able to look back on this Heat team with positive praise.

Compounding the problem is the fact Miami invented the concept of 'fair-weather' fans. With all due respect to the handful of loyalists that are at every game, Miami is a city driven by trends and what's hot. Marlins pitcher Josh Johnson may very well go on to win the NL Cy Young award this year, but no one will hear about it because for the next eight months there will be no topic hotter than the Heat. Even the Dolphins will take a backseat to the NBA this fall, with only an improbable Super Bowl run being the one thing that would avert our attention from the Heat's Triple Threat.

Miami fans are analogous to the guy at the bar buying drinks for the hot girl only to leave her standing all alone so as to pursue the other hot girl that just walked in. Can you say 1996 Florida Panthers? We're fickle. We're impatient. We want to be seen courtside, but we attend games only when it's convenient to us, and only if the team is winning. Yet this is what we wanted. This is what we hoped for. We wanted to be the landing spot for the most coveted free agents in the league. We wanted to be the center of the NBA universe. Now that we're there, let's just hope the old adage isn't true. Be careful what you wish for.

BamaJam – One Helluva Party

2010-06-03T18:53:00.001-07:00

There is something special about music. It reaches into our hearts and soul and grabs a hold of all those memories and emotions that make us who we are. There is something even more special when you hear a song for the first time the pulls on those heart strings and makes you remember why you enjoy having a love affair with music. It's been my absolute pleasure to experience that over and over these last five hours at BamaJam. From the LoCash Cowboys to Danny Gokey to Chris Young, it's been wow moment after wow moment for me. Having said that, the night is still nowhere near being over and I tip my hat to the many other artists performing on the other stages here at BamaJam that I will unfortunately miss.

Day one of the BamaJam experience gas simply been spectacular. The food is great, the weather is perfect (well, there was that giant rain cloud that blew over, dropped some water and cooled everything off), and the service and smiles of all the individuals working the event have made me feel welcomed and right at home. There is definitely something to be said about Southern hospitality.

Well, Miranda Lambert is about to take the stage and then I need to scramble over to the other stage for Zav Brown. More to come later tonight. Rock on!

BamaJam – The Adventure Begins

2010-06-03T13:42:00.001-07:00

It's hot. Damn hot. Thankfully there's a nice, cool breeze flowing through the rows of campers and RV's that make up the series of makeshift streets on the campgrounds for the third annual BamaJam Music Festival in Enterprise, Alabama. As Debbie Ingram, writer for the Dothan Eagle, describes it, BamaJam is "known both locally and regionally as a redneck party complete with girls in short shorts and cowboy boots and a few thousand good 'ol boys with rebel flags proudly displayed on their pickup trucks." As I sit here in the shade of my camp site, people watching as I try to stay cool, Ms. Ingram's description is pretty accurate.

To simply call BamaJam, however, a redneckpalooza is not doing the event justice. I am very much impressed with the level of organization that has gone into planning and executing the event. I will get a much better feel for it once Lee and I venture to the actual site where the concerts will be held, but so far it's been a fantastic experience. Yes, there are many rebel flags flying – along with 'Bama, Auburn and the obligatory collection of driver specific NASCAR banners – but this is not an event full of toothless, backwoods music fans. BamaJam organizers have sold tickets in 43 states and 4 foreign countries. That's a very broad and eclectic mix of audience members.

The appeal, in my opinion, is in the lineup of musical performers. There is no question the reason I am here is to catch the Zac Brown Band. The Grammy Award winners are one of several big-name artists scheduled to perform over the next three days. With other artists including Kenny Chesney, Hank Williams Jr., Dierks Bently, Gretchen Wilson, and Miranda Lambert (hubba hubba), BamaJam rivals any other music festival in terms of value and experience.

I will have to dedicate more time in my next entry to our camping experience. This is my first time staying in a camper/trailer, living off a generator and dealing with the specifics and logistics of 'camping' (i.e. bathroom), but since we're sharing the experience with good friends, it has all had a sense of educational charm.

With that, Lee and I are off to peruse the concert area and find our spot first show (LoCash Cowboys). I can say this: BamaJam's schedule is very reminiscent of The Rock Boat. Shows do not start until later in the afternoon and last well into the morning hours. With the beer free-flowing and the crowd a'rocking, we are sure to feel right at home. Rock on!

Rock by the Sea and FourSquare Day

2010-04-12T08:35:00.001-07:00

Our music has become digital, our communities virtual, and all too often our truest of priorities get pushed to the peripheral. Still, there are moments in time when we can come together as one, a group of people in the actual, and listen to some of our favorite artists while at the same time doing something good and giving back to those in need.

Rock by the Sea is one of those moments in time. From April 15 – 18, Harry A's on St. George Island, Florida, will host this annual music festival that is dedicated to not only the celebration of music, but also the assistance of worthy charities. In addition to being an event full of performers, entertainment and sunshine that delivers an excess of fun to be had by all, Rock by the Sea is an extended weekend that focuses on hope. It is a reminder of how the power of giving can be exponential, growing from the first contribution and feeding on the generosity of many.

Speaking of exponential, there is an added twist this year to the normal abundance of smiles and camaraderie exuded by the RBTS faithful. With the introduction of FourSquare Day on April 16, Harry A's will be also be home to an official FourSquare Swarm Party at which participants will be able to 'check in' and collectively earn the coveted 'Swarm' badge. Individuals will even be able to register for FourSquare at the venue so as to take part in the festivities.

Please visit the Rock by the Sea website for more information about the event. In addition, we invite you to learn more about some of the charities that are the beneficiaries of RBTS's hard work and generosity. Those charities include:

Finally, please follow these links if you're interested in learning more about FourSquare, FourSquare Day, and the RBTS Swarm Party, or you can send an email with any question you may have about 4Square Day at Rock by the Sea.

Five Mistakes Writers Make

2010-04-02T12:20:00.000-07:00

Five Mistakes Writers Make, by D.B. Grady

My sincerest thanks to Gil for hosting the penultimate day of the Red Planet Noir virtual book tour. This post was scheduled to be written for April 1st -- April Fools Day -- but I'm late on the draw. For full effect, have Sherman set the Wayback Machine for yesterday, because Gil cleverly suggested a themed post on the foolish mistakes we make as writers. As I have made them all, this presented little difficulty.

Based on observation and experience, below are five common mistakes writers make:

1. Don't read enough

I'm a member of a lot of writing groups, I know a lot of aspiring authors, and I've been writing for a long time. It's a time consuming process in a world whose axis seems to be spinning at an increasingly-frenzied pace. Finding two hours to spend behind a word processor is like trying to find oil with a divining rod. (And just as valuable.) Writers understand that something needs to be sacrificed, but nothing says NOT SERIOUS like a writer who says, "I just don't have time to read."

To maintain one's craft, reading is just as important as writing, if not more so. Stephen King describes reading as putting tools in the toolbox. Through the works of others, we learn as writers how literature works, and how to make it work for us. Speaking personally, I'm never quite sure if something I've written is good -- self-criticism is my specialty -- but I always know when something I've written is terrible. By reading voraciously, I know how my betters have done it, and I know when I fail to reach that mark. Those are the parts that I fix or delete. Obviously, taste is subjective -- I've had critics savage things I'm quite proud of -- but generally speaking, being well-read has never been a hinderance.

Looking for extra time to read? Turn off the giant picture box in the living room.

2. Don't write enough

Writing is hard. Except for freelancing, or once a publishing contract is signed, you are your own boss. And with that power comes the ability to give yourself the day off.

"Ah, the muse isn't with me today. I wonder what's on television?"

This power is like a drug. Once you give in to temptation -- once you close Microsoft Word and open Facebook, it's over. It's much easier the next day to do the same, and the day after that, and the day after that.

The only way to write a novel is to write every day. To quote Hemingway, "No matter what has happened the day or night before, get up and bite on the nail."

THERE IS NO MUSE. There is never a moment when 80,000 words will flow from your fingertips onto the page or into the word processor. The only way to get from "Once upon a time" to "And the lived happily ever after" is to write.

I operate under the assumption that must first draft will be terrible, anyway. And for good reason. My first draft is always terrible. But once it's complete, I've got that giant slab of marble to chisel away at.

John Grisham, I think, said it best, and every writer would be well-advised to tape this to his or her monitor: "Write a page a day or you're not serious."

It's the only way to move a book from your head to the real world.

3. Blog about our manuscripts instead of writing them

This is for unpublished writers. Stephen King can blog until his fingers bleed, because he's got something to say. But unless you've got a book on the shelves, you don't have advice to share. Certainly nothing of value. And except for mom, nobody cares how the manuscript is shaping up. Blogging is a fun warmup exercise -- review a book, discuss your dog -- but stay away from the manuscript. The most I'll say about my next book is that I'm writing one.

(Note: I'm sure somebody will find a counter-example, but that's the exception that proves the rule.)

4. Signing too early

This is a delicate point from my point-of-view, and certainly yours if you're staring at a contract.

Here's the deal: if you thing you've written a novel of literary merit worthy of serious consideration, don't immediately sign with the first publisher who says yes. Do your homework. Bill's Indie is lightyears away from Scribner. DO NOT SETTLE.

Once a writer starts the query process, he or she will quickly become inundated and brutalized by rejection letters. The terrible reality that a Twilight payday is not around the corner will become unbearable. So when that first "Yes" arrives in the mail, it's like being asked to the prom by the Homecoming Queen.

Unless that Homecoming Queen's name is Doubleday, think it over. Consider whether you can do better. (Note: Agents will do the thinking for you. This is for the lone wolves out there.) Once you settle for a small or independent press, you're locked in to a very small box. Award eligibility is rare. Reviews are hard to come by. Writing organizations aren't particularly interested. And shelf space at the Big Boxes is non-existent.

(Yes, there are exceptions. But again, they're just that -- exceptions.)

This might not matter to you. And if it doesn't, autograph that contract and slap a stamp on it. But if you've got lofty goals, wait it out. You might regret it. Or you might be the next J.K. Rowling.

5. Buying "How To Write A Book For Dummies"

There's an entire section of Barnes and Noble dedicated to the art of writing an novel. I'll save you some time and money: the only way to write a novel is to read a lot and to write a lot. You have to write 100,000 words before you can write 10,000 good ones. You have to read 1,000,000 words before you can even do that. All of the answers are in Steinbeck and Fitzgerald and Atwood and McCarthy and Chandler. You'll see them immediately.

--

D.B. Grady is the author of Red Planet Noir.

He can be found on the web at http://www.dbgrady.com.

Valentine’s Day is a Day for Lovers

2010-02-14T11:53:00.001-08:00

Check out my guest blog at Alex Rodriguez Photography.

My Letter to Paul Shirley

2010-01-27T21:04:00.000-08:00

Paul Shirley, a former NBA player, wrote an incredulous blog about the situation in Haiti. You can read his words here. The following is my response to his position on the situation in Haiti.

***********
Mr. Shirley,

The offensive and flat-out ignorant content of your blog aside, I write to you this evening out of sheer disbelief with the words you've chosen to share on your site. It is absolutely incredulous to me that you would publish such soulless, dismissive and apathetic sentiments toward a people that are suffering from the after-effects of a natural disaster. Not only do you make a juvenile attempt to present an argument from a perspective of hindsight, your myopic view of the world outside the fantasy bubble in which you live is wholly laughable and, quite frankly, upsetting.

In your blog, you blame the Haitian people for their own misfortune. You question how they allowed themselves to get to the point of living in abject poverty to begin with. You debate the usefulness of donating money and rebuilding an island nation that will likely suffer another natural disaster in the future. You cite a woman who is crying out for help, not sure who is responsible to provide the help, but obviously hoping for any form of assistance in her time of crisis and obvious grief. Your response to her is a flippant, “I don’t know whose responsibility it is, either. What I do know is that it is not the responsibility of the outside world to provide help.”

Wow.

It’s rare that such heartless discussion is made available for public consumption. It’s hard to believe that you actually chose to publish those words and reveal your apparent lack of decency and humanity. For someone who’s been given the gift of athleticism and has earned more money in one month than most people earn in one year, your lack of compassion and humility as a citizen of this planet is horrifying.

What’s truly astonishing is you were born in Redwood City, California, which is a suburb of San Francisco. Applying your less-than-sophomoric logic to your home town, why should there continue to be a sprawling metropolis sitting on top of a fault line in California? Why should the victims of the Embarcadero Freeway collapse during the earthquake of 1989 been tended to or rescued? Surely they knew better than to drive on a freeway in a city susceptible to earthquakes! I could go on and on, but it’s obvious to anyone with any form of common sense – or a human heart for that matter – that such backward thinking logic is completely moronic.

And that is what your blog is; 1900 words of moronic gibberish. I will also tell you what it’s not. It’s not the work of a decent and honest human being. It’s not the opinion of someone who is grateful of their current situation and blessings, and who understands it was sheer luck he was born to a family in Redwood City, California and not to one in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Your blog could be described as having been written by a monster or an agent of evil. Rather, I think the appropriate word is coward.

“I would like to help, but only if I feel that my assistance is deserved and justified.” Those are your words, and I still fail to understand what part of 150,000 deaths* is undeserving and not justified of your help. I simply hope you never find yourself the victim of an accident or natural disaster whereby your survival depends on the intervention of others. At that moment, would you really want the thoughts of the person able to save your life to be, “Is my assistance deserved and justified?” Based on the words in your blog, you have a long way to go before you even come close to meeting that requirement.

*source Australian Broadcasting Corporation

Snapshots

2010-01-26T19:08:00.001-08:00

So this isn't exactly a blog entry as it is a heads up that I wrote something in memory of my father. He would have celebrated his 77^th birthday on January 27, and it's the fifth birthday without him since he passed away in 2004. I hope you cherish the memories of those close to you as much as I do. Enjoy.

http://bit.ly/snapshot_JRG

A World of Thanks for a Year to Remember

2009-11-25T21:46:00.001-08:00

Turkey Day is upon us and I sit here reflecting on what I feel has been one of the best years of my life. I am purposefully restricting myself as I write this because the list of people to which and for which I am thankful is so long, if left unchecked this blog can easily go 10k words long.

As I look through my calendar for the year, I see it is chock full of events and moments that continue to fill my life with smiles and beautiful memories. It is also a reminder of everything for which I am thankful and why I feel so incredibly blessed. I mentally recapped these events, and I cannot properly describe how special each moment was and how alive each memory continues to be. To say I am surrounded by people I love is a gross understatement. In addition to my biological family, I hold dearly the relationships that transcend the normal boundaries of friendship and create bonds of family as strong as those I have with my relatives.

I am thankful for the creative opportunities that were presented to me this year, and for the world of support I've received as I tackled these new endeavors. (Thanks, JT)

I am thankful for a renewed sense of spiritual direction. My faith and belief in God has never wavered, but my feeling of belonging and sense of community was dead and gone. I found that again this year, and I am so thrilled I get to share it with such a supportive community of people. (Thanks, Kurt)

I continue to be thankful for my beautiful children who are such a blessing and terrifically great kids. They may be hard to handle from time to time, but that is really the rare exception to the rule.

I am thankful to my mother and my new mother-in-law. They continue to provide me with guidance and unwavering support in all I do, and I am so fortunate to have what is, in essence, a never ending source of love.

Most importantly, I am thankful for Lee, my saving grace, biggest fan, best friend and, I am proud to say, my wife. We both traveled broken roads to find each other, and in coming together as one, we've created something special and magical that will forever be greater than the two of us. It's with eager anticipation that I look forward to the rest of my life with Lee. It is a life I will not spend with her, but rather share with her.

I keep replaying the events of this past year and there are so many individuals that come to mind who shared in the various moments. I want you to know how thankful and appreciative I am for your friendship, love and support. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Finally, I say a prayer for the many individuals who will be alone this Thanksgiving Day. I feel for them and their loneliness, and I pray they find some solace on a day that is meant to be spent surrounded by those you love. I pray God's grace gives them the strength to endure and reminds them that even they may feel all alone, they really never are.

Generic Sentiments

2009-11-09T06:30:00.001-08:00

This year's college football season kicked off with one. New Mexico women's soccer produced another. We see it all too often on SportsCenter, be it from the NCAA, NFL, NBA of MLB. The generic apology. The modern day athlete's get out of PR jail free card.

It's almost as if every media relations person for any given team or athletic program reads from the same manual. A player on your squad does something stupid? Have them issue a first-person mea culpa with the following baseline structure: "I (sincerely / whole-heartedly) regret my actions. I (lost my cool / got caught up in the heat of the moment / let my emotions get the best of me), and I apologize to (victim, fans, teammates, organization) for my behavior."

Even apologies from the coaches appear to be scripted. The remarks usually center on how that behavior is not condoned by the team, how the player is a good person who made a mistake, and how the situation will be addressed directly with the individual, usually internally. For once I would like to see a coach or manager come out and say, "That was stupid and reckless and I don't want that player on my team. We don't need fools like that on the field hurting others and impacting our ability to win."

Instead, we get cookie-cutter responses that come wrapped in a bright yellow box. It's the same apology and statement you heard last time and will hear again, probably sometime next week.

To be fair, in the cases of Oregon football and New Mexico soccer, the respective schools reacted firmly and decisively. Oregon's LaGarrette Blount was kicked off the team for punching a Boise State football player following a loss at the beginning of the season. New Mexico's Elizabeth Lambert was suspended indefinitely for her violent actions against BYU. In contrast, University of Florida's Urban Meyer gave player Brandon Spikes only a half game suspension after he purposefully and deliberately attempted to gouge the eyes of Georgia's Waushaun Ealey. Spikes imposed on himself a full game suspension, a move I doubt he would have chosen to make had their upcoming opponent been Alabama rather than Vanderbilt.

Still, the follow-up to all the 'regrettable' behavior is a statement made publicly by the players in question and their respective coaches. What is truly unfortunate is these individuals may indeed be sorry for their behavior. They may truly feel remorseful, as well as embarrassed, for how they acted and the results of those actions against another human being. Yet their feelings of contrition are painted over by the broad brush that results from us seeing this all too often, as is the case with this blog.

There is no solution for this problem. Individual players will continue to make individual mistakes. They, in turn, will issue yet another generic apology that will cause us to roll our eyes and think, "Yeah, whatever." That is what's truly regrettable.

Stupid Is as Stupid Does

2009-10-28T09:40:00.001-07:00

Winston Groom, author of the novel 'Forrest Gump', introduced us all to the line of "Stupid Is as Stupid Does". This line may mean different things to different people, but it clearly speaks to the identification of stupid actions. This is not to say that someone who performs a stupid act is therefore a stupid person. Brilliant people make mistakes, stupid mistakes, all the time, and our only hope is that individuals will learn from that particular event and not repeat the stupidity in the future.

The story of Forrest Gump also allowed us to take a look at racism and the historical impact it had on our American culture. The character created by Winston Groom was immersed in real racial events, from school segregation to the KKK to the Black Panthers, and it was those events from the sixties and seventies that help mold the era of political correctness in which we live today.

Bob Griese was recently suspended by ESPN for one game for comments he made in the telecast of the Minnesota-Ohio State game. ESPN was promoting ABC's coverage (both networks are owned by Disney and often times cross-promote each other's programming) of the upcoming NASCAR Sprint Cup race in Martinsville. A graphic was shown listing the top five racers of this year's Sprint Cup chase. Fellow analyst Chris Spielman inquired as to the why NASCAR driver Juan Pablo Montoya was not listed, to which Griese quipped, "he's out having a taco."

Griese apologized for the comment following the game and then again during ESPN's College Gameday Scoreboard show later that evening. Various media outlets, mostly blog sites, have ruled Griese's comments as racist. ESPN's decision to suspend Griese for a game can be considered as a necessity so as to show proper disciplinary action towards Griese and avoid any potential racial fallout as a result.

I agree with ESPN's decision to suspend Griese. Not because his comments were racist – they weren't and they were clearly meant in jest – but because they were stupid. When you're an on-air personality and you don't have the presence of mind to refrain from a comment involving race, you deserve to be suspended.

Griese is a Hall of Fame quarterback and is viewed in the context of NFL history as one of the smartest players to play that position. He's the "Thinking Man's" quarterback, and when you think about all-time, smartest QB's to have played in the NFL, his name is definitely in the conversation. That's what makes Griese's comments during the broadcast so incredulous. He knows better. Forget the comical error whereby Montoya is Colombian and not Mexican as the 'taco' comment would imply. That's Bob Griese having a blonde moment. The real stupidity lies in Griese thinking it's okay to joke about anything racial on national television.

We live in an age where political correctness rules all. The only way you're allowed to joke about race is if you're making fun of the minority group to which you belong. I am Hispanic of Mexican and Cuban descent, and I can joke all I want about stealing the rims off your car or being proficient at building makeshift rafts. However, I won't dare joke in public about African-Americans, Asians or any other minority groups; and I'm not even a public figure.

Griese and all sports broadcasters who are hired to do a job of providing analysis and insight to a game or particular matchup need to steer clear of any and all racial pitfalls. Regardless of how funny they think a comment may be, there will always be some watchdog group ready to pounce and make a mountain out of a mole hill comment. Griese's gaffe was not racially insensitive. Rather, it was simply stupid. Forrest Gump was on to something. Let's hope Griese remembers that going forward.

Read Dan LeBatard's column on the same topic.

Everything Happens For a Reason (Right?)

2009-10-07T22:00:00.001-07:00

"No hay mal que por bien no venga." That's one of my mom's favorite phrases. Translated, it means: There is no bad from which good does not come. Now, regardless of how much it sounds like a Yoda quote, I feel it does hold true. The phrase we most commonly use is "Everything happens for a reason". It's a phrase that makes us feel better about a bad situation and has us seeking the proverbial silver lining in the cloud. I believe in it whole-heartedly, but I do feel it's often overused. Today, I've been over-using that phrase in my heads for hours.

Lee and I have been trying to buy a house, quite literally, all year. Our process began back in January when we decided to take a stab on a house that is exactly six doors down from the home we're currently renting. It's a gorgeous house with a three-car garage, open foyer area, wall-to-wall tile in the first floor, and a pool with a hot tub. It's almost too perfect. The house was available as a short sale and we knew the process could be time consuming. The principle lien holder accepted our offer and I thought we were all set. Then the secondary lien holder wanted an adjustment to their payout amount. The first lien holder agreed to the adjustment, the paperwork went back to be redone, and then the whole thing just died on the vine. After six weeks of 'WTF?' waiting, Lee and I decided to walk and look at buying a house the old-fashioned way. What makes it more frustrating is that lien holder one and lien holder two have since merged and are now the same bank. Thank you for that, WaMu and Chase!

We asked our Realtor to pull some listings and found two great houses we loved. The first one got an A+ ranking. The second house received an A++. We weren't even done seeing the second home when we turned to our Realtor and said, "This is the house. Let's do it. This is the house we want." We were giddy like kids on Christmas Eve. The excitement was palpable and we were already envisioning filling our home with friends and family for parties, get-togethers and cookouts. Thirty minutes later our Realtor called. Turns out the listing agent for the A++ house is also the owner and he'd just bought the house and was trying to flip it. Well, that's fine and dandy, except for the fact we were approved for an FHA loan and you can't use an FHA loan to buy a house that was purchased by someone else in the previous ninety days. Thanks for that, non-full-disclosure listing agent and government regulations!

We took in a deep breath and exhaled.

The good news was we still had the A+ house available, and we decided to make an offer on that one. A good friend of mine who is a home builder came out and did the inspection and said the house was basically flawless. We had our bank work up a new Good Faith Estimate for the property, and the sellers both accepted our offer and agreed to contribute money towards closing costs. The home appraisal came back slightly above the selling price, the bank underwriter formally approved our mortgage, and we were all set. Excellent!

Then came word our lender decided to run a corollary review of the houses in the same neighborhood and some houses sold for far less than the asking price of the house we were purchasing. Our lender decided to have a second appraisal performed and that one came in at $15k less than the first. The inability for both us and the sellers to make up this gap, not to mention mutual level of frustration directed at our lender, killed the deal. I can go on for pages on how I feel about the tactic employed by my lender, but I will spare you the rant. All I will say is; Thank you for that, SunTrust!

So here we are, back at square one, with no new home and our same month-to-month lease. Lee and I have decided to take a breather from the whole house purchase thing, regroup, and give it a go again early next year. I am, however, surprisingly not as upset or disappointed as I thought I would be. Yes, I was livid at first and I know I definitely burned bridges with the mortgage agent at SunTrust who was helping us (I basically killed the messenger, but I did so in a classically and poetically written flaming email, so I don't feel too bad about it). Still, I know there are worse things in life, and fretting over a house – or should I say houses – that never was is not tops on my priority list.

I know I will chalk this up as a learning experience, and I will be more confident as a consumer when we try this again next year. I look at the ups and downs of this roller coaster ride and I smile because I think about the many friends who lent an ear or gave their advice and guidance through the process. I am once again reminded of my beautiful circle for family and friends, and what a blessing it is to have them. I remind myself to put this all into perspective. There are thousands of individuals who will go to bed tonight on the streets because they have no home, rented, owned or otherwise. My children have a roof over their heads, my wife and I have a roof over our heads, and we're very comfortable – and blessed – with all we have.

To be upset about our house deal falling through today would be silly. After all, everything happens for a reason.

Scrubbed

2009-08-25T13:17:00.001-07:00

Lee and I have a great relationship because we share a mutual passion for various things. In addition to our love for music, electronics and sharing time with friends, we also have an affinity for living our lives with a sense of adventure. There is something totally fulfilling about being able to just shrug your shoulders ans say, "Let's go. Let's do it."

So was the case Monday afternoon when we both ditched work a little early and drove from Tampa to Cape Canaveral in our hope to watch the Space Shuttle Discovery launch into space. STS-128 and it's mission to carry supplies to the International Space Station was scheduled to blast off from Kennedy Space Center's launch pad 39-A at 01:36 ET the morning of August 25, and it was our goal to be there, up close and personal, to experience it.

We were fortunate enough to be able to purchase tickets to the causeway viewing area near KSC. We new traffic would be bad which is why we made the decision to leave early and head East to Florida's space coast. I am happy to admit we did not encounter any traffic problems getting to KSC, and we were quite early in arriving which left us with some time to kill at the space center.

After enjoying an amazingly riveting IMAX movie about the International Space Station, Lee and I proceeded to spend the next 90 minutes or so in line after line after line as we waited for the buses that would transport us to the causeway viewing center to arrive. It was 9:45 PM, it was a hot, August evening, and we still nearly four hours left before the event that would take our breath away.

As with most things that require you to stand and wait in line for extended periods of time (think Disney), the waiting and queuing came with its share of frustrations and aggravation. They were mostly brought on by the other people in line who were either too busy complaining about the wait and the process or were too clueless to have remembered to put on deodorant earlier in the day. Nonetheless, it was all part of the experience of witnessing history and continued progress in mankind's exploration of space.

After a relatively short bus ride over to the causeway, Lee and I found a perfect spot to set up our 'camp' – we each had folding camping chairs – and wait the three hours until launch. There in the distance, a mere three miles from where we sat, was the space shuttle Discovery, prepped and ready to force itself away from earth with over 7 million pounds of thrust. It was amazing to see it sitting there under the lights. It was awe inspiring.

We knew the lightning in the distance would be a problem. Lee and I had been checking our Black Berry's periodically, following both @NASA and @ExploreSpaceKSC on Twitter for up to the minute statuses on the launch preparation. The voice over the PA system confirmed there were no technical issues with the shuttle and the weather was the only item for concern. As we approached ninety minutes to launch, all weather parameters were in condition 'Red', and it was not looking good. Still, the approximately ten thousand people gathered on the strip of causeway three miles south of the launch pad remained optimistic the thunderstorms in the area would quickly pass.

As we reached forty-five minutes to launch, there was word the weather in the area was dissipating. The tweets from various sources following the launch came fast and furious, as did my status updates to Facebook and Twitter. It was on. This was going to happen. Lee and I were going to watch a shuttle launch. FINALLY!

The next half hour zoomed by. It was 1:15 in the morning and the energy level along the causeway was palpable. It felt like the last thirty seconds of a close Super Bowl or the bottom of the ninth in a tight World Series game 7, only more electric. There, off in the distance, seven astronauts had been waiting for hours while strapped into their seats, and we were minutes away from watching them take off into the night sky.

The voices on the PA continued with their final system checks as the countdown continued. On voice called out a series of acronyms, followed by another voice with an affirmative and responsive, "Check!" System after system, check after check. "Here we go" I thought. "This is going to be amazing."

"Weather?"

The voice that was supposed to respond with a loud and affirmative confirmation was instead replaced with a very hesitant pause. No one on the ground said a word.

With a sense of painful deliberateness, the responding voice almost quivered as you heard him say, "We really tried to push this as far as we could, but we are no-go for launch." My heart sank, as did those of the other ten-thousand spectators there. We were so close. So close.

And just like that, the launch of STS-128 for 08/25 was scrubbed, and with it, Lee's and my hopes of watching a live shuttle launch. With only a handful of STS mission on NASA's schedule before the program is retired, this was our one window of opportunity. Although it was feasible for us to return the following evening and try again, the nearly three hour drive and overall lack of sleep would simply not be a prudent thing to do. It was bad enough we did not get back home to Tampa until 5:30 AM. To try and duplicate that experience two nights in a row would be reckless and irresponsible.

Even though the level of disappointment weighs heavy on us, it was still an adventure Lee and I were able to share together. We pray for a successful and safe launch the morning of the 26^th, and Lee and I will step out into our lanai at 01:11 to hopefully see the flame trail in the distance left by Discovery taking off into space.

My Mission

2009-07-19T08:12:00.001-07:00

Today at church, our pastor spoke about missions. God wants us all to take part in a mission in His name. Now, for most people, we hear the word mission and we think about traveling to a third world country and preaching to people that most likely do not speak the same language as we do. Growing up Catholic, I have a good understanding of missions, and my brother traveled to the Dominican Republic his last year in high school to take part in a mission effort. Missions are wonderful things, but they're also foreign concepts to many of us.

Today's message, however, was that we need to find a mission in our everyday lives. It's not only about making a commitment to travel to Africa or Central America. It's also not about taking only one hour per week to give to God. Living a mission for God is about making it part of our every day. It needs to be the cornerstone of what we do and who we are.

This got me thinking about something my dad once told me. I need to caveat what I am about to say with this: My dad was my hero. I loved my father with all that I had, and losing him in 2004 had a profound effect on me and my life. I lost a parent and a friend, and every memory I have of my father, most good and some bad, comes with a little life-lesson. He tried in everything he did to teach my brother and me something new, and he felt it was his obligation to better prepare us for the world.

Still, my father was not perfect. Not by a long shot. The one thing in particular about which I never saw eye-to-eye with my dad was his notion that you never get something for nothing. His life and his experiences lead him to believe that everyone had an agenda. He did not inherently trust people who performed kind gestures for him. What's ironic is that he was so giving and he instinctively gave of himself with no agenda at all. He just liked to help out whenever he could.

It pains me to say that my dad was wrong. Although we must be vigilant of others and not just blindly place our trust in strangers, I do believe that you can get something for nothing. I believe there does exist in people the ability to give to others without an expectation of reciprocation of any sort. Just as my dad always gave of himself to help others, there are others who also give of themselves every day. And it's possible someone who has chosen to live a giving life may interact with you and, as such, give to you something for nothing.

I believe my mission in God and with God is to live my life as best I can to be a giving person. To be someone who, every day, gives someone else something for nothing. I think it's ironic that in proving my father wrong I am able to prove my Father right. And I think my dad would be okay with that.

The Rita Recap

2009-07-06T20:30:00.001-07:00

I struggled with how to begin this post. I literally did not know where to begin. So instead I decided to just list thoughts at random and with each one thank God for the blessing that it was.

Lee and I hosted a party on Friday, July 3, to celebrate our marriage in June. We knew we wanted to target about 100 people for the shindig, and we also knew that given the party was on a holiday weekend, many of the invited guests would likely have previous commitments or would not be able to afford travelling in from out of town. We thought we'd do well with about 50 - 65 people showing up for the party. There were actually over 90 individuals who attended our Rockin' Rita Celebration, and Lee and I are so blessed to have the friends and family that we do.

The party itself is a bit of a blur, not so much because of all the adult beverages that were consumed, although that does play a bit of a factor in the hazy memories, but mostly because it was one of those nights that were so much fun, time just zipped by. It was a sensory overload of music, laughter, great food and tequila shots. There was so much going on, it was hard to spend enough time on any one thing. Lee and I are so blessed to have had the opportunity to work with a great party planner and host such a fantastic event.

The night began with music by our friend Chris Glover. Not only was Chris gracious enough to perform at our party, he also provided the complete setup for the musical entertainment that evening. He lugged his equipment, including show lights, from his home in Orlando all the way to Treasure Island, Florida. That's at least a two hour drive, and the party would not have been the same without his help and participation. Lee and I are so blessed to have such talented and giving friends.

Lee and I then took part in our Unity Cocktail ceremony. Many of you have heard of unity candles and sand mixing ceremonies. Our Unity Cocktail was like that …. but only better. Our dear friend Matt Harrington performed the ceremony in which we took the ingredients of a margarita, each of which represented Lee, myself and our family and friends, mixed them together and produced, dare I say, one of the best margaritas I've ever had.

Matt then proceeded to surprise Lee and me with his gift. Now, I have to clarify that Matt is a talented musician – regardless of what he'll tell you – and he once had his own band back in the day. It had been over five years since Matt sat down and wrote a song, but that's exactly what he did for us as our gift. It was beautiful and heartfelt and completely amazing. I don't think there was a dry eye in the room. Lee and I are so blessed to have such creative and selfless friends.

The night progressed with a sunset toast outside of the venue on the soft sand of Sunset Beach. It was so amazing to look around and see so many people out there who traveled both near and far to share in that moment with us. We had visitors from New Hampshire, Alabama, Philadelphia, Washington D.C., Miami, North Carolina, Tallahassee, the Orlando area, and one near miss from Brazil via New York (we really missed you at the party, Juli). It is so humbling to have so many individuals willing to travel to be with us, and Lee and I are again so very blessed to be surrounded by such loving people.

Following the festivities outside, we all moved inside for music by Dirty Shannon, photo booth fun by Elise Schreiner Photography, and continued joviality provided by our emcee and good friend Kurt. It was a whirlwind of fun and excitement and more shots of tequila, and the night was marred only by me forcing cats to commit suicide by singing along – on microphone, no less - to The Outfield's 'Lose Your Love'. Other than that, the night was perfect.

Lee then surprised me with my own groom's cake in the form of a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. It was chocolate, it was awesome and ultimately it was very messy. Everything was just as we'd hoped it would be, with the exception that it all went by too fast and we didn't get a chance to spend quality time with everyone. (FYI. We registered on SeeYouThen.com so that those of you who attended can share your pictures from the event with everyone else. I tip my hat to the team at SeeYouThen.com for their fantastic work in putting together the template for our site: http://gilandlee.seeyouthen.com/)

Personally, I need to thank everyone once again for coming out and for making it one of the most memorable experiences of my life. I also want to apologize to you all for not getting around to sitting down with you, saying hi and just catching up. I guess with so many guests it was a nice problem to have, but still I feel that I missed so many of you, and for that I am truly sorry.

When I stop to think about and reflect on that wonderful evening, my heart feels like bursting from all the love you all have given Lee and me. I am also both graciously overjoyed and sincerely humbled by the many blessings that fill my life. Thank you, each and every one of you.

Associated Content -- Transformers 2 Movie Review

2009-07-06T09:51:00.001-07:00

Please check out my movie review of Transformers 2 on Associated Content. More posts to this AC site to follow.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/danacreative

Q's House

2009-07-02T00:36:00.000-07:00

I had the fantastic opportunity of being on Q's House earlier this week to discuss The Lives Project, working with John Taglieri on the effort, and just writing and blogging in general. The inteview is now available via podcast on iTunes (search for Q's House) as well as other online resources. The name of the download is 219_The Projects.

I hope you take a moment to listen in, if for no other reason than to listen to Fight Together by Sci-Fried. Funny song, but only if you're a geek like me.

Leap of Faith

2009-06-21T19:27:00.001-07:00

There are times in your life when you have to let go of everything you know and reach out for something new; when you have to take a chance on the unknown and believe in yourself that you'll land on two feet. This is not one of those times.

Sure, I could play dramatic on your heartstrings, but this entry is not what its title suggests.

I have no crisis of faith. I have no doubt in my mind that God exists. I have no doubt He gave us His only son, Jesus Christ, for our sakes. I believe with absolute certainty in the Holy Trinity, the Blessed Mother Mary and the glory of Heaven. These are unshakable beliefs I possess, and I will always hold true to them.

Still, it was time for me to let go of what I know in terms of Sunday mornings and try something new. I needed to take a chance on a Sunday service unknown to me, and I did so with a firm belief that everything will okay. As such, Lee and I trekked down to Ybor City in Tampa with the kids to Relevant Church.

Why is this such a big deal? Well, I am a creature of habit for starters. I am also a cradle Catholic, and I have never attended a regular, weekly service (i.e. not a funeral or wedding) that was not a Catholic service. From a perspective of formality, I was going against 36 years of upbringing. I was going counter to my spiritual foundation.

Still, there we were, on the second floor of The Italian Club in Ybor City, staring at a stage setup with musical instruments and a Goin' Country theme. I was already feeling comfortable having been warmly received by several individuals, including the parents of the church's pastor, when all of the sudden I heard the familiar music of the Zac Brown Band.

"I thank God for my life, for the stars and stripes, may freedom forever fly, let it ring…."

I was sold. This was going to be a wonderful new experience.

Upon beginning with a greeting that included a mini-monster truck race (tough to explain but very funny to watch) and Christian music from the church's live band – three songs that can only be described as totally rock'n – the preacher, James Adair, began his sermon about Father's Day. However, sermon is not really the right word to use. It was more of a witness talk; a testimonial, if you will, about his experiences both with his dad and as a dad. James' words were not preachy nor overly evangelical. Rather, they were conversational, understandable and relatable.

In addition to being gracefully and tactfully intertwined with passages from the Bible, James' words were comforting and made me draw on my memories with both my dad and my kids. I am very fortunate to be able to say I have no holes on the retrospective thoughts of my father. As I've said before, if I can be half the dad to my kids that my father was to me, I will be alright. I also smiled at the thought of this new experience for my children, both of whom were one floor above us in the church's child development area.

Upon the conclusion of the service, both Natalie and Daniel presented me with hand-made Father's Day cards they made while Lee and I were taking in James' marvelous testimony. We wrapped up experience with lunch in Ybor with our friend Kurt, who introduced us to Relevant Church, and his two kids.

I am not sure if I am completely done with the Catholic Church. It's still hard for me to think I can simply walk away from all those years of homilies and Holy Communion. Still, it feels like forever since I've been excited about Sunday service, and I am really looking forward to making it out to Relevant next weekend. It's not necessarily a leap of faith, but it is a significant step for me in finding in my spirit what I feel has been lacking for quite some time now.

So I’m Getting Married…..

2009-06-12T22:03:00.001-07:00

I vaguely remember the lonely nights in 2004, sitting in my shower and letting the hot water run out as I questioned everything in my life at the time. I had recently lost my father to cancer. Two weeks before that, I ended my marriage and walked away from my family in pursuit of what I thought at the time was true love. And as I waited for this true love to match my actions and walk away from her family – and waited and waited and waited – I found myself in a very dark and lonely place, day in and day out. Every night concluded with the same, similar routine; sleeping pills, booze and tears. There was one night in particular for which I prayed to not see the next morning.

I vaguely remember those nights. The memories of the loneliness and despair are almost surreal afterthoughts in my mind, not as if they occurred years ago, but rather lifetimes ago in a distant and faraway place. It's almost as if they occurred to someone else; a character in a story told to me by someone who heard it from someone else. It's a fictional feel to a not so fictional tale of love, loss and lack of lucidity.

As I look back on the cloud and haze that surrounded my life back in 2004, I think about the person I was then and the feelings I carried with me in my heart. I was so steadfast in my beliefs that I was blinded to the reality that surrounded me. I was so consumed by thoughts of passion and juvenile romanticism, I could not fathom for one second I could be wrong. I invested 100% of myself into a dream, only to find the dream to be a mere illusion and my ass planted firmly on the cold stone of an emotional rock bottom.

I find myself reflecting about my past tonight, on the eve of my wedding and on the verge of yet another new chapter in my life. Following the trials and tribulations the consumed my life from late '04 through the end of '05, I would have sworn that I would never marry again. I hid behind the same clichés and emotional arguments that you hear from people who've been hurt by love. I lived on both sides of that coin as both the victim and the villain. On one side, an ex-wife whose own life and dreams I shattered. On the other side, a "soul mate" that never was and someone who chose the comfort and security of the status quo over me. I was done with the idea of meaningful relationships with women. Or so I thought.

On February 15, 2005, I met the woman who will today become my wife. It was an encounter that would set in motion the story that culminates this afternoon on the sands of Isla Mujeres, Mexico. It was an evening that reset the meter on an expiring heart and, for all intents and purposes, saved my life. Looking back at how Lee and I came together, and the respective trials and tribulations we each endured as I struggled with my past; those memories, too, seem as if they occurred many lifetimes ago. Lee and I have lived a lifetime's worth of experiences since we met four and a half years ago, and it's hard to believe it's been such a brief period of time given all that we've shared together.

There are not enough words for me to describe the woman I am about to marry. All the pages in all the books cannot contain the volume of emotion I feel for Lee. I could try, but I know I would never be able to finish whatever I write because my love for her continues to grow with every day we share together. I look forward to the vows we will exchange knowing there's no doubt in my mind nor in my heart about me feelings for Lee. I go into this, my wedding day, with complete clarity and absolute commitment.

In many ways, the chapter for the Gil and Lee that met back in February 2005 comes to an end today. In its place begins a new chapter, one that tells the story of Gil and Lee as husband and wife. It is a story that is bound by a lifelong commitment to grow together, live together and love together, regardless of what challenges may lay on the road ahead. It is a story that is possible in part because of the choices I made way back when and the subsequent consequences I had to endure.

I smile when I think about those vague memories from 2004. I smile knowing those moments brought me to this, my wedding day. It is a day I embrace with a zest and a vision that is crystal clear in both my heart and soul.

King Mustafa, HELP!

2009-06-01T15:06:00.001-07:00

I lost Daddy points today. Yep. I messed up and grossly underestimated my daughter's reaction this afternoon.

It all started with my ex calling me earlier in the day to let me know she had taken one of her cats to the Vet and had the cat put down. Enlarged liver, issues with the cat's nervous system, etc. It was a lost cause for an old cat (15 years), and through her own tears she let me know about the situation. We discussed how to best let the kids know, and I decided I would tell them when I picked them up from school. The reason for the decision was based on the fact Natalie had seen the cat in the morning and had alerted her mother to the cat's condition. The cat was no longer able to stand on its own, and Natalie suggested her mother take the cat to the Vet's office. I just knew Natalie would inquire about the cat's condition when I picked her up.

Sure enough, 4:00 rolled around as I was at the school to take them home. As I walked through the door of the after-school area, I saw Natalie spring to her feet, run to me, and ask me if I had spoken to her mom about the cat. "Did momma tell you about Figaro? Is she okay?" I told her we'd talk outside in the car, reached into my pockets and pulled out a pack of Skittles I'd picked up as a pre-emptive, soften-the-blow measure.

We walked to the car and talked about school and the new play set they'd just installed in near the after-school area. We settled into our truck and I delicately broke the news to the kids. I don't know why I thought it would be accepted with a casual sense of "Oh. That's sad. Oh well, it's for the best." Instead, what followed was me having to get out of my seat and climb into the backseat with Natalie to console her. She was devastated. She was inconsolable. She was bawling so hard I had to verbally direct her to breathe. "Nice going" I thought to myself. Ugh! What a totally wrong approach to take with Natalie regarding the subject. I should have known better.

I was struggling to try and explain it all to her. I was digging back in my memories of the last time I watched 'The Lion King', scrambling to paraphrase as my own the whole circle of life explanation given to little Simba by his father. I was worried about Natalie's tears mixing with the skittles in her hands and leaving a rainbow mosaic all over my seats. It was just bad all the way around.

I was also surprised by my son's stoic reaction to all of it. He didn't cry. He didn't look sad. He just was. It was almost spooky the way he simply looked at me then looked back at his skittles and proceeded to eat them without hesitation or reservation. His reaction was the exact opposite of Natalie's, and his stoicism rivaled that of the legendary Tom Landry.

We drove home and Natalie settled down. She spoke to her mom on the phone and by the time we go to the house she was all better. Still, I can't help but second-guess myself and think about how I should have better addresses the situation. They still have one cat at their mom's place, and we have four. I know I will face this challenge again and again in the years to come, and I hope I do a better job at it. Time to pull out those old Disney DVD's.