Tuesday, October 18, 2016

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What do you call it when your dog has eight puppies? Octuplets? Ocpuplets? I don't know. Years ago, our Radio Production Manager, well, he probably would have just said you call it a handful. His dog was Sister. No, not a relative; that was her name-had eight puppies. He got to look after them until he could find homes for them. Apparently eight can be a challenge. He told me about one day when he was just trying to get them back into their pen. He said, "I was doing all I could to push those puppies back in. I'd get two or three in. Then while I was reaching for another one, one or two would kind of wiggle back out." (You can probably almost picture this can't you?) After a lot of pushing and shoving, he finally gave up for a while. He said, "You know, here's the funny part"-actually, I thought the picture of him losing to those puppies was the funny part-but he said, "within 10 minutes, guess where those rambunctious puppies were?" All of them were inside by the pen, without any pushing from him! They chose to do what he couldn't force them to do!

Monday, October 10, 2016

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Moving day! Good news, bad news. The process of moving is horrible. The result, once you find everything you packed, is wonderful. Years ago, my Administrative Assistant got to experience all that good news and bad news. Actually, the bad news turned out to be not so bad. It could have been bad. She was just one woman with some heavy stuff to move; refrigerator, stove, piano, plus lots of smaller things. Now, I was out of town when she moved, which was good planning. But I talked to her a few days after the big migration. And all she could talk about was the difference her friends had made. The guys pitched in on the especially exciting things like the piano. The women carried some of the other items. And even her little nephews joined the team. They carried the little nephew sized stuff. Each person carried what he or she could. Gayle said, "You know, when I look at each piece of furniture in my apartment, I think of a person; the one who helped carry that particular burden." The burdens turned out to have a lot of blessing in them because of friends who helped her carry what she could never carry alone.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

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When you eat in a hurry you sometimes leave some traces of the meal on your face, and you sort of wear your food. There are some crumbs maybe, or some tomato sauce, or this little spot of chocolate. Of course, you don't know it.

Now I have to eat on the run a lot of times, and that means sometimes you might be able to tell. Of course, I don't mean to carry it around with me. I mean, you know, my wife or my son in the past have told me that, "You know, you've got food on your face!" Well, I want to tell you it's embarrassing to hear, but I need to hear it. Of course I don't always say "thank you" to them. Sometimes I'll just say, "Oh, yeah, you know, I'm saving it for later." Yeah, right! Which doesn't seem to please them, but I have to say that I do clean it up after someone points it out to me. Of course, if I'm not looking my best, I'd rather hear it from someone who cares about me, right?

Thursday, September 15, 2016

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I'm a tornado and hurricane kind of guy. I mean I don't like them but, I've lived where you learn about those things. I'm not an earthquake kind of guy. I've never lived where those mattered much. But when I was in San Francisco, I was where earthquakes are a big deal! Most people there still have dramatic stories to tell about what happened during that big quake in 1989, the one that interrupted the 3rd game of the World Series. Some of the heaviest damage and injury was in the Marina District of San Francisco.

Monday, September 5, 2016

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Years ago, when my son-in-law lived in the Chicago area, he was in his "heyday" because it was the "heyday" of the Chicago Bulls. That was hard for me, being in the New York area as a New York Knicks fan. But, listen! Back then the Bulls had one of the most amazing teams in basketball history. Actually, I think my son-in-law had to go into a recovery program for Bulls addicts back then. But he reminds me of the Bulls' greatness regularly. In the days when they were building their basketball juggernaut, I was told the players would get in a circle and one of them would ask, "What time is it?" And they'd answer louder every time they asked the question, "It's game time!" They seemed to know what time it was almost every time they got on the court. In fact, Bulls fans told me back then that the players weren't really that close off the court. Reportedly, it was pretty quiet when they were traveling, didn't even talk to each other much. When it's wasn't game time they didn't get together off the court. But, when it was game time, the differences didn't matter, they had a job to do. They were a team!

Thursday, September 1, 2016

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I'm really not too excited about the fact that a lot of the commercials on television are for beer. And, unfortunately, a lot of them are pretty well done and hard to forget. I remember some years ago, actually, there was one that had a punch line in it that people would jokingly quote all the time. The problem is that it inadvertently portrayed how alcohol does make some people act. Maybe you'll remember it. This guy said to his Dad in this kind of sensitivity that the new man is supposed to display, "I love you, man." At which point his Dad says, "You're not getting my beer." Okay. And who wants it? In another commercial the same loser is telling a girl, "I love you." But she also knows he's saying that just to get her beer. Why? Anyway, now, the guy is saying all the right words, but it's to get something. In this case, something he shouldn't have in the first place.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

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I got a "boo-boo." It happened when we were in the middle of major outreaches on Indian reservations with our On Eagles' Wings team of young Native Americans. It was just a scrape on my wrist. I don't even know how it happened. It seemed like no big deal at the time. And it might have been no big deal if I had thought to clean it at the time, but I barely knew that it happened. I woke up two days later to see red all around the wound and red lines starting up my arm. Is that bad? Yeah. I offered myself a brief medical opinion – "uh-oh." Our team nurse seemed pretty concerned about it as she carefully cleansed it and treated it. She recommended some antibiotic to keep it from getting into my veins. Several days of twice-a-day treatment and some antibiotic did the trick. I hate to think what would have happened if I'd let it go any longer.

Friday, August 12, 2016

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When you hear a helicopter going over, you probably look up. I know I do. But it's probably not a major emotional experience for you. It is for Megan's Dad. She told me that she and her Dad were outside recently when a chopper flew over. In her words, "My Dad suddenly hit the deck." In other words, he just instinctively fell to the ground. Now, you could look at that reaction and say, "Is he a little strange, or what?" No, not strange. He's a Vietnam Veteran. Obviously, Megan was really surprised by her father's unusual behavior. So she said, "What's wrong, Dad?" He said, "It's just part of post-Vietnam trauma. When I hear a chopper, it just triggers something inside. I'm suddenly in combat again." That's when Megan understood.

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

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Did you ever notice what great scorekeepers kids are? They are really adept at measuring how they're being treated compared to the other kids in the family, right? Our oldest child was followed about two years later by her younger brother. It was our son who introduced me to this scorekeeping aptitude that children have. He had this simple 4-word question. "How come my sister...?" Which would always be followed with his presentation of some perceived injustice in how we were treating him compared to how we were treating his sister. She apparently got something good that he didn't get or he got something bad that she didn't get. When I was on a trip, I sure thought twice when I was buying gifts for my children. I knew that any hint of favoritism could get me in big trouble.

Friday, May 6, 2016

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While I was growing up in an apartment in Chicago, my wife was growing up in a very different world. She grew up on a small dairy farm. It was her Mom and Dad, and two "sons". Actually, the sons turned out to be daughters. So, those girls had to be the sons who helped their Dad on his meager little farm. My wife says she'll never forget the day the county farm agent came for a visit. He walked around with Dad, inspected his crops, looked at his books, and started lecturing Dad on all the things he could do better – all of which would take money and help that they could never afford.