Category Archives: Family

March 7, Not a Bad Day to Change Your Life Forever

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March 7, 1992 was a Saturday.  It was also cloudy and rainy as many March days are, but the sun poked out just long enough for Celeste and I to dash across the parking lot of St. Francis of Assisi Parish in Triangle, VA to celebrate our marriage of exactly 30 minutes with 120 or so of our closest friends and family in the parish’s rec hall.  Bar-b-Q, beer, wine and dancing.  Then it was off to spend our wedding night at the Willard in DC.  Fourteen years later and I don’t think we’ve stayed in anything remotely that posh since.

This morning as Celeste and I were wishing each other happy anniversary I told her that, in retrospect, the first seven years seemed like a dress rehearsal for the last seven years.  Those first seven years were spent working long hours with low pay, popping out kids seemingly every other month and generally trying to figure out what being an adult was all about (for me…Celeste always had it figured out).

I also started a company that eventually failed in 1999–the 7-year mark of our marriage. The year was 1999 and it was a rough one for me and for us, but I look at that time as the forge that cast me as a much better man and cast us as a couple that will endure for the ages…or at least until the aforementioned kids put me six feet under.

The marriage vows say "for better or for worse" and Celeste endured much of my worst for seven years, but thanks to her giving me her best for all 14 years I think she turned out a much better man.  No man can, or should, ask for anything more.

Birders Should Be Recruited for War?

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Okay, the title refers to the war on the H5N1 virus (Avian Flu virus), but I figured it was a little more provocative this way.  There’s an opinion piece in the International Herald Tribune (found via Loose Wire) about the fight against the avian flu and how the spread of the virus shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone since it is following known migratory patterns.  The author, Laurie Garrett, suggests that government officials should recruit birders to the cause:

One of the best untapped resources in this epic battle against
influenza is bird-watchers, who are among the most fanatic hobbyists in
the world. The major bird-watching organizations and safari clubs ought
to work with the World Health Organization and OIE, the World
Organization for Animal Health, to set up Web-based notification sites,
where birders could report sightings of groups of dead birds, and the
movements of key migrating species.

Until a little over a year ago I wouldn’t have paid this any attention because, quite frankly, I didn’t know any birders.  Now I do and I’m finding that the birding community is as fanatic as the author describes. What makes this a particularly good idea is that birders are freakishly attentive to detail and to logging the birds they see, where they see them and how often they see them.  That makes them perfect for this effort.  As long as we don’t ask them to get in front of a camera (these aren’t typically extroverted people from what I’ve heard) the author’s plan should work swimmingly.

Mother’s Day Gift?

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Shotgunshell_chairSee that chair to the left?  It’s made with shotgun shells and besides looking quite interesting the brass of the shells is supposed to provide a very pleasant massage effect (more info here).

I’m considering this as a mother’s day gift, the irony of which will be appreciated by all in our family.  You see when it comes to guns my Mom makes Cindy Sheehan look conservative  by comparison.  My brother and I weren’t allowed to have toy guns, although exceptions were made for water guns.

I’ve taken the opposite approach with my boys: they have a gazillion toy guns and my oldest has an air rifle.  He also tromps around the house in combat boots and cammies, and has decided that he’ll make his fortune designing tanks, helicopters and armed Hummers. Actually his drawings are quite good and he’s pricing them below a million since he’s done pricing research online and has figured out that at $750,000 he’d be severely undercutting the competition. I don’t have the heart to rain on his parade with things like production costs, but my heart is all a-twitter at my budding little entrepreneur.  I’m a little concerned that I might have bred a mercenary, but I’ll deal with that when the time comes. You’ve heard of grandchildren being a grandparent’s revenge?  Well I’ve turned this one on its ear haven’t I?

Anyway, back to the chair.  I might get it even if I don’t give it to Mom (she’d break into hives if she ever actually sat in it).  You see I have this pathological fear of guns, what with the childhood brainwashing, and I’m trying to break myself of it with my own weird immersion therapy.  A couple of years ago I shot skeet while on vacation (got two with one shot I’ll have you know) and I figure if I use this chair at my desk I’ll continue my de-programming.  This might also help increase my masculinity score on the PersonalDNA test I took yesterday.  I’ll keep you posted.

Parental Pride

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I’ve always been proud of my kids, but this past week or two I’ve had several reasons to be particularly proud:

  • Last week my wife and I went to have lunch with Justin, our youngest, at his school.  Justin is in fourth grade and is an avid reader.  His teacher took the time to sit with us and tell us that Justin has more ‘Accelerated Reader’ points than any other kid in his grade and is reading at a 7th-8th grade level. 

    What made me particularly proud, though, was what she told us next.  There’s a girl in Justin’s class who struggles with reading and Justin’s teacher has teamed him with this girl to read along with her (out loud) to help her with her comprehension.  Apparently it is working well, but Justin’s teacher is worried that Justin may be missing out on his own reading so she asked him if he’d be willing to read into a tape recorder at night and then the girl can listen to the tape while she’s reading during class.  The fact that he agreed to this extra work makes me more proud than I can possibly describe.

  • My oldest son, Michael, is in the seventh grade.  He has been selected by his teachers to be an ambassador for the school.  In the near future fifth graders who will begin attending his school next year will be taking tours of the school and Michael’s job will be to escort them, and their parents around the campus.  Anyone who knows Michael knows that he’s an extremely articulate and personable young man and I think he’ll make a wonderful ambassador for the school.  Again I can’t adequately describe how proud this makes me feel.
  • Last but certainly not least my daughter Erin, a sixth grader, came home with her second consecutive straight-A report card.  She’s a wonderful student, works diligently at every aspect of being a student and is more "together" than I’ve ever been.  On top of that she’s a beautiful young lady, both in body and spirit and I’m now officially freaked out about boys.  Let this be a warning to all boys out there: I’m watching and I’m loaded for bear.

I’ve now gone on record with my parental pride and this post can also double as a place I can go to remind myself of how great my kids are the next time they really screw up.

How to Keep Friends and Family Friendly and Familial

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Anyone who has done the "friends and family" financing thing will appreciate a service called LoanBack.  It’s basically a site that lets you set up a loan, either as the lender or the lendee, and then generates a custom promissory note with whatever interest rate you agree to.  You can even set it up so that multiple people can make loans to the same person, which is ideal for someone trying to get a small business off the ground.

This is one of those ideas that is simultaneously simple and brilliant.  Wish I’d thought of it.

Is This Retro, Cheap or Just Sad?

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XmturntableI’ve had my XM Delphi Radio Roady2 for about 8 months and until now I’ve kept it in the car.  A while ago Celeste got me the home kit for it, but I just now got around to putting it together in my office.  It plugs into any stereo with standard white/red auxilary cords, so instead of going out and getting a new setup I just grabbed an old hand-me-down stereo that my sister-in-law gave my kids years ago (see the picture; click on it if you want a larger version).  How old is it?  It has a turntable.  I guess you could say it’s an XMtable.

What the hell; the speakers work and now I have XM for my own version of Muzak.  The handy-dandy remote allows me to channel surf without leaving the computer.  Nice.

Flying, Flu and Cheerleaders: The Longest Day

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On Tuesday I had to fly to Orlando for a meeting and then fly home in the evening.  Here’s how it went:

  • Up at 4:00 a.m to catch a 6:00 a.m. flight from Greensboro to Dulles, connect to Orlando.
  • Meet up with client, go to Disney’s Coronado Springs, do the tour thing and have lunch, meetings.
  • Back to airport, catch stomach bug that seems to have gone around.
  • Flight
    to Atlanta delayed about 2 1/2 hours so I’m stuck (with stomach bug) in
    airport lounge with bitter travelers and the Moorehead State University
    cheerleading team.  Chipper and bitter/sick just don’t mix.
  • Thankfully, Orlando’s airport has relatively clean bathrooms (I’ll spare you the details).
  • Get to Atlanta, my connecting flight is four terminals away.  Long walk to train between terminals, surrounded by chipper cheerleaders talking incessantly about how much sex they’re going to have at their destination.  Know I’m sick when I use the words "incessantly" and "sex" in the same sentence.
  • Connecting flight is delayed an hour, which they didn’t bother to post on the status board so I wouldn’t have to run.  Thanks Delta.
  • Sit
    on puddle-jumper waiting for takeoff for 1/2 hour while they try and
    figure out how to get a wheelchair bound passenger on the
    plane.  Seriously wondering if it would be better to be dead,
    or at least comatose.
  • Miraculously don’t lose my lunch in the puddle-jumper as we do as near a proximation to dive bombing as I’d like to get.
  • Land, again miraculously, and drive home like a bat out of hell.
  • In bed at 2:00 and next thing I know it’s 10:30 and I’m still alive, although not by much.

This now makes two terrible trips I’ve had since Independence Air went out of business.  I think they’ve put a curse on all their old routes. Note that I’m not blaming the airlines since for the most part it’s just bad luck, but that’s what a curse amounts to, right?

Don’t Trust English Majors. or Departments, with Money

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A university in Florida (of course) has fired two administrators in its English Language Institute for failing to deposit checks worth about $275,000 (story here).  Checks were found under books, in desk drawers and other niches within the office.  Some checks were almost a decade old, and checks worth about $133,000 were too old to cash or deposit.

As an entrepreneurial English major (oxymoron?) I can tell you it is neither safe, nor wise to put money in an English major’s hands.  While we may be energetic and creative we are at a loss for how to manage the green stuff.  Celeste, my patient and brilliant wife, has learned that lesson the hard way and has taken our finances into her capable hands.  Amazing how much better we’re doing since that happened.

Along the same tangent, Celeste’s first job after college was running the Professional Center at George Mason University. Her greatest achievement was figuring out that the center was owed about $200,000, primarily from the IRS and the Air Force for training space they had rented over the years (this is in the early 90s).  They hadn’t paid because the invoices were not prepared properly so Celeste figured out what information was needed, re-submitted the invoices and collected all of the money that was owed.

That’s why she does the books for the Lowder family enterprises.

Hoggard Came Home to a Party, I Came Home to Another Floater

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I read here that Dave Hoggard, supreme Greensboro blogger who I was privileged to meet in October at ConvergeSouth, came home on New Years Eve to a party thrown by his son (with permission).

I, on the other hand, came home on New Years Day, to find another floating turd within an hour of my arrival.  As I’ve pointed out before, I am the "Turd Man."

“Dad, what’s a master debater?”

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Yesterday was the last day of school for my kids before the Christmas holidays so my daughter, Erin,  invited two friends to sleep over.  Last night I was working on my computer and the girls were on the kids’ computer which is also in my office.  They found some website that was dedicated to kittens so I had to endure a seemingly endless string of "Oooooh, he’s so cute" coming from three sixth grade girls.  Then, after about 10 minutes of this Erin suddenly asks me, "Dad, what’s a master debater?"  What follows was our discussion:

Me: "Huh?"
Erin: "What’s a master debater?"
Me: "What do you mean?"
Erin: "Well it says here that any time someone master-debates a kitten dies so I was wondering what a master-debater is."
Me: Chin on floor.
Erin: "Well, what is it?  Is it a bad thing?"
Me: "I don’t want to talk about it right now."
Erin: "So it’s a bad thing?"
Me: "It’s a play on words, but it’s not something I’m gonna talk about right now."
Erin: "Okay."
Erin, to her friends: "When Dad won’t talk about it that means it’s bad and probably something about sex."
Me: Trying to type, but have no idea what I was typing.

The girls quickly moved on to something else and forgot all about it. I however couldn’t forget it.  I had visions of the girls’ dads showing up at my door and belting me in the nose for their daughters being exposed to ‘master-debater’ on my turf.  Yikes!

I don’t know how this happened but over the last few years I’ve become the de facto birds-and-the-bees speech-giver in this family.  A couple of years ago I was sitting in the car with the kids while Celeste ran into the grocery store to get milk and bread.  In the five minutes she was in there I managed to get cornered into giving the whole "how babies happen" speech after Erin informed her brothers that she would never kiss a boy because she didn’t want to get pregnant.  She was operating on the assumption that she had a multitude of eggs stored in her belly and that a kiss was like watering those eggs and causing one to grow.  So much for the much-vaunted "You and Your Body" class the kids had at school.  Anyway, when Celeste got back in the car she took one look at me and asked, "What happened."  I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.

And just last week my oldest son, who’s in 7th grade, laughingly told me and his siblings about a boy who had to get up in front of his class to do a presentation with a full tent-effect going on in his drawers.  That led to a private half-hour conversation between Michael and me that began with why it’s inappropriate to talk about that kind of stuff at dinner (and in front of his 9 year old brother) and progressed into practical advice on handling such situations for himself in the future.

I told Celeste (my wife) about the master-debater incident and she agreed that I seem to be the one who gets stuck with all these questions/issues.  We also decided that she needed to have a little talk with Erin since there’s no way I’m talking about master-debation with my daughter. 

It’s times like these that I wonder if I can resign my commission as a dad.  We definitely don’t get paid enough for this.