The Best of Intentions

Last night, my son had his eighth grade graduation dance. They called it a "banquet," but I'm calling it what it was, a dance. There were 14 year old girls in dresses and heels that had them teetering and tottering on the edge of disaster. There were 14 year old boys in ill-fitting suits with ties awkwardly hung around their necks. There was a DJ and loud music played on an acoustically-challenged sound system with the bass turned all the way up. And there was dancing. Nothing that would win them points from Carrie Ann, Bruno or Len, but dancing nonetheless.

My son took a date, but he was lucky because about two weeks before the "banquet" they decided to put the brakes on the ritual of asking someone to the dance. Anyone who already had a date, fine. But there would be no more asking of girls by boys to this shindig. Evidently, the rumor and gossip and drama of junior high was just too much and the administration had had enough. For the good of all the students having a good time, they were putting an end to it.

This is a bad idea. I admire the administrators and teachers for wanting to spare kids' feelings and wanting everyone to enjoy themselves. I understand their intentions.

But they are not doing the kids any favors by eliminating the ritual of a boy summoning the nerve to ask a girl to the dance. Of him practicing the request over and over again for weeks, of his friends prodding him to just do it. Of the girls hoping to be asked, or in some cases, of them going through the same machinations in working the courage to ask one of the boys themselves (since he's just taking too long to ask on his own). Of the joy when she/he says "yes." And also of the hurt when that other person says "no."

In fact, it's the latter that's the more important lesson. Unfortunately, rejection is a part of life. Would that it were not that way, but it is. We all know it. We've all had our hearts broken at some point, be it at 14 or 21 or 30 or 50. And everytime it happens, whenever it happens, it hurts like nothing has ever hurt before. But eventually, you learn to get over it and find that new person who makes your heart jump when he or she walks in a room.

Disappointments are coming for every one of these kids. A team they'll get cut from, a party they won't be invited to, the college acceptance letter that doesn't come and the job interview that doesn't pan out. None of them will be easy, but you learn to deal with them because you have experience to fall back on. You know that things will get better, because you've been there before and it did then, so it will now.

Shielding kids from unnecessary pain and suffering is a good thing. Believe me, if I could figure out a way that my kids never had to experience any of it, I would. But it's impossible. And because it is, I know they need to experience it in the small doses now so they can better cope with potentially larger doses down the line.

In the end, pretending that it's not a dance or eliminating dates is not preparing the kids for anything. Sometimes, even the best of intentions are missplaced.

Perspective on Two Wheels

Sometimes something jumps up and gives a little bit of much needed perspective. Sometimes they're life-changing events -- a birth, a death, an accident, a departure. But they don't always have to be so dramatic.

Last week, I was on vacation at home. And I accomplished something that's more important than anything I've done in months.

I taught my daughter to ride a bike.

No, that's not life-altering for you, and frankly it's not for me either. I've done it before, and I've got a younger son, so I'll do it again.

But it was life-altering for her. It was a huge hurdle finally overcome. It was a truly magnificent accomplishment as far as Jessie was concerned. The mystery of balancing and propelling herself on those two wheels was finally revealed. And the look on her face was like a whole new world had opened up for her. I could see her mind working, planning excursions she couldn't take before, trips to places she couldn't go on her own, now suddenly all within her reach. And as I'm often inclined to do in these instances, my mind flashed forward to explorations beyond her bicycle, to reaches that will take her beyond home, that will lead her away from me to a place that's all her own. And inside, I cursed myself a little for taking those training wheels off.

But then she hugged me and thanked me for not letting her fall, for not letting her give up. And I realized that I had really done something wonderful that afternoon. And I was reminded again that it's part of my job as a father. That I'm responsible for letting her fail, and for then encouraging her that the only way to do it is to get up and do it again. For running alongside her as she teeters on the edge of disaster, there to catch her fall and pick her up and put her right back on that bike again.

I come back to work today and confront problems and issues large and small, with clients, with colleagues. There's still bills to pay with a bank account that's forever stretched to its limit. The basement still needs to be cleaned out and I still haven't figured out how to wire that damn ceiling fan. There's plenty on my list of things to do.

But today I feel accomplished and important. And perspective rides along with a 7 year old on two wheels with silver streamers flying from her handlebars.

Yeah, sometimes life IS good.

Save that paper towel...

An upfront confession that I am a sports fanatic. And like so many, I place WAY too much importance on the outcome of games involving "my" teams -- particularly my big two -- the Chicago Bears and the Chicago Cubs.

I get too emotionally involved, yes I do. I spend an inordinate amount of time combing sports pages, reading magazines and surfing sports related websites. And lord knows, I spend A LOT of waking hours watching games on TV. I think the lone saving grace for my poor wife is that at least I'm not involved in the subculture of fantasy sports leagues. No question, we'd be divorced for sure if I was into that. But I have indoctrinated my sons into sports and my teams, she had no choice there.

Yesterday was a wonderful day when I heard the news -- my beloved Chicago Bears had executed the trade of the century and got a real, honest-to-goodness QUARTERBACK from the Denver Broncos. Jay Cutler is a Chicago Bear. I think I might have peed myself just a little bit at that moment. And again as I write this...

Being the sports idiot that I am, I couldn't wait to get in the car and switch on sports radio for the long, hour and a half commute home (more on that another time). And it was glorious, sharing the unbridled glee of my fellow idiots, all now anxiously counting down the days to Bourbonnais.

But I was reminded of a curious Chicago sports phenomenon. Yes, in the middle of all the joy, of all the platitudes thrown at the Bears, of all the reverie, there was the downer. The guys who felt compelled to call and say the Bears gave up too much, that Cutler's not that good, what about those draft picks, what about his attitude, who's the back-up, etc, etc...

I'm not going to debate all that, at least not here. But it reminded me of a great quote by Mike Royko I heard once. He was talking about Cub fans, but I think it could apply to all Chicago fans. He said that an optimist looks at a half glass of water and says, "it's half full." The pessimist looks at it and says, "it's half empty." But the Chicago fan, well the Chicago fan looks at that same glass of water and says, "when's it gonna spill?"

I love that quote because it captures our Chicago sports essence. We've had our collective hearts broken too many times. Hell, not just broken, ripped from our chests, thrown to the ground, stomped on and then handed back to us (see Chicago Cubs -- 2008, 2003, 1989, 1984, 1969; Blackhawks 1992, 1973, 1972 -- you get the picture). We don't believe in love and good fortune anymore. With any good, there's got to be tenfold bad to go with it.

Well, save that paper towel, this glass ain't spilling. Not for me, not this time. I'm going all in on this one. I'm embracing the giddiness, to hell with it. Sports are supposed to be about entertainment. They're supposed to be a diversion from the mundane existence we have to otherwise lead. Call me a homer, say I've drunk the Kool-Aid, I don't care. I still always believe my team's going to win, every game, every season. If you don't, I don't know why you watch. What fun is that?

So, I can't wait to watch the Hawks hoist the Cup, to see the Cubs finally win the Series and to watch Jay Cutler and my Chicago Bears grab the Lombardi Trophy next January (or February, still doesn't have the same ring to it). Who's with me? Party's at my house people, and you're all invited. But leave the pessimism at the door, there ain't going to be any room.

One Man

A little piece inspired by some of the best men I know...

On a cold November morning
One man gets up and rises from his bed
He takes his badge, gun and holster
Kisses his wife and children on the head
He takes his place in the daily battle
On city streets where blood gets shed
He sees young lives wasted, given up
So easily left for dead
When he tallies up the costs each day
He knows they aren’t getting ahead
But tomorrow he’ll be back
And he’s just one man

In a classroom at the blackboard
One man sharing the ability to think and teach
To captivate and inspire and let them know
The world they want is within their reach
Just like the one man trying to save lost souls
With just his power to pray and preach
They each know to some they’re getting through
And some they’ll never reach
But they’re still there
Even if they’re just one man

Tell it all to the factory man
Working hard both day and night
Because he knows just making ends meet
Is a minute-to-minute fight
And he’s got to do whatever he can
Regardless of wrong or right
While the wheel just keeps on spinning
And there’s no happy end for him in sight
But he does what he can do
Even if he’s just one man

One man seldom realizes
The power he commands
To love, to heal, to hope
To make a difference
To understand
To change the course he’s walking
He holds it all within his hands
It takes the courage and conviction
To get things started and make a stand
Sometimes it just takes one man

On a sunny summer day years ago
Back in Washington DC
One man stood and told us all
That in his heart he had a dream
All these years later
One man has the chance to bring it all to being
There’s a lot to do, it’s gonna take the cop,the factory man
The teacher and the priest
We just gotta share the weight
It’s gonna take more than one man

But it all still starts with one man...

A little self-righteousness

Last night, my wife is telling me about a woman who came into the library where she worked and needed some help with some books. No big deal, but in the midst of it, she launches into this whole diatribe about President Obama. She tells my wife, "I'm not an Obama supporter, and I don't know how anyone who is a true Christian could be."

So yet again, we have another so-called "true" christian who decides it's their job in sit in judgment of everyone and anyone who does not hold onto the same idea of right vs. wrong. And, as it always does, this incensed me. So here's a little self-righteousness of my own.

First off, let me go straight to the point here. If you are the "true" Christian you'd like to paint yourself to be, then simply go back to your Sunday school lessons to see where your comment is wrong-headed and offensive. It's simple -- only God can sit in judgment of man. If you're a TRUE believer, then you know that free will is one of the greatest gifts we've been given. And when judgment day comes, only God Himself will judge whether the choices made in this life were the right ones or wrong ones.

And while she didn't say it, I'm betting this woman's position was based upon a pro-life stance. OK, I'm making my own sweeping generalization there, but my own experience tells me that once she uttered the "true Christian" line, the pro life diatribe was coming next. Whether Obama is a good president or not hinges on that one issue and that one only for her.

That's as unenlightened as you can be. You CANNOT base your whole decision on abortion rights. That’s short-sighted and small-minded. And incidentally, it’s about being PRO-CHOICE, NOT PRO-ABORTION. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m personally against abortion. But I don’t think it’s a decision that the government should make for a woman. It’s one of the most, if not the most difficult decision any woman may be faced with. What gives me or anyone else the right to dictate to her in that moment? She should be free to make her own decision based on her own beliefs and moral compass. I’m every bit as much a Christian as any one of the fundamentalist, right wing, Bible toting elitists who feel they’re in a position to postulate as to what God wants her to do. But the last time I checked, the Big Man hasn’t put anything down in writing since Moses came down from the mountain. So, she needs to make her own peace with God on that decision. And the government should not be involved in it.

There are other issues we need to be concerned with — our economy is failing, prices are escalating, the quality of public education is deteriorating, our position of leadership in world affairs is gone and the gap between those who have and those do not grows wider every single day. We need a president who can and will address all of these problems, who cares about the legacy we leave our children. The privileged few can afford to focus on a single fundamentalist issue. They don’t have to worry about feeding their kids, paying their mortgage, saving for college or dodging gang warfare and drug dealers on their way home from a substandard public school or a minimum wage job. But they’re missing the point.

America is supposed to be about a fair chance for everybody. We’re supposed to care about helping those who have less, at home and overseas. We’re supposed to recognize that “nobody wins unless everybody wins.” Or to steal from another song, “them who got got out of town, and them who ain’t got left to drown” -- that isn’t good enough for America. And many Republicans, who like to wrap themselves in the flag and bask in American traditions and values, simply don’t get it. That the promise of our country was to be a shining light for the world, a place where everyone was welcome and where freedom wasn’t for the few, but for all. Instead, they’re good at putting up walls — around their communities, around our borders and in front of those who look different, speak different or would have the audacity to present a different idea or point of view.

You see the stakes in this game are higher than one issue. I worry every night about what the future holds for my kids. What opportunities are going to be there for them? Can they really still be anything they want to be?

The President has an unbelievable burden placed upon him. He's going to make some mistakes, he's going to need time to right a ship that's been rudderless for a long, long time.

I believe in President Obama because I think he embodies the idea that America is for ALL Americans. There isn’t a red America or blue America, or black America or white America. There's our America, and right now, it just isn’t good enough.

As for that lady, there's a lot of books I'd like to recommend to her. But since she's a "true" Christian, I'd recommend she start actually reading that one that she likes to present as her barometer, her truth. She might learn a few things about tolerance, acceptance, faith and love.

The Daily Show

If you missed the Daily Show with Jon Stewart on March 12, be sure to check it out online. In fact, run and do it NOW! Because what you'll witness is one of the great tv interviews of all time. Stewart did a wonderful job of not being overtly antagonistic, while staying tenacious with a guest who was overmatched -- Jim Cramer of CNBC's "Mad Money."

I just thought Jon did an absolutely spectacular job. He nailed it in terms of how I think so many of us feel about the mess on Wall Street. He captured our outrage that our investments, our 401(k)'s and pension programs financed the "adventure" these guys at Bear Stearns and everywhere else went on in their short-sighted, short-trading orgies. I loved it when he told Cramer that his problem with Cramer's "Mad Money" antics were that "this isn't a fucking game." Absolutely classic.

Stewart also captured something else in his work tonight that I found most important. It ws subtle, but oh so very important. Our worth is based on work, not on quick money schemes. Somewhere, somehow, it seems like a lot of Americans lost the idea of work and its intrinsic value, beyond just the wages paid for it.

My father was poor as a kid, never graduated high school and has worked his ass off since he was 7 years old. He always has believed in that oft-ridiculed but seriously never trite concept -- an honest day's work for an honest day's pay. I remember a lesson he taught me -- "you make money for the man, and if he's any kind of man, he'll make money for you."

That got lost somewhere along the way I think. For many entry-level folks before the bottom dropped out, there was often a sense of entitlement, a sense of hey that work's beneath me. No one wanted to pay dues. No one wanted to do the grunt work and make their reputation. And so you get a bunch of people who didn't know what the hell they were doing.

At the same time, we had owners and managers who lost sight of the value of the people doing the work. Oh, they talked a good game about how our people are our greatest asset, but when push came to shove, the people on the front lines were just numbers on a balance sheet. They'd say we were a family, but you don't shove Grandma outside when the bills get tight, do you? But they did.

I come from a union family. Union wages put food on our table, clothes on our backs and a roof over our heads. My father and his father before him preached the gospel of organized labor and the glory of being a union worker from my earliest days. And it took. Union men and women built this country. Our periods of greatest prosperity coincided with the heyday of union membership. The great American middle class did not just materialize -- it was paid for in blood (sometimes quite literally) by union men and women.

But even while everyone was thriving, the rich owner resented having to share the wealth. They resented having to sit and negotiate fair contracts. They resented their kids sharing schools with the kids of those they employed. The blue-bloods NEVER bought in and in the era of Republicanism that began with Nixon and really continued through Ford, Reagan and Bush I and II (with brief stops in the action for Carter and Clinton) they got their opportunity to start taking it back. And they made the most of it.

And what have they wrought? Look at the newspapers (or least those that are left) everyday and you'll see. We're in sad shape, with an economy resembling a Third World country. Mighty General Motors, symbol of American manufacturing might is teetering on the edge of disaster. And union membership is at its lowest point in 40 years.

My point? I don't know, maybe it's just a rant. But Stewart's comment about the value of work, and thus to me, the American worker, struck a chord. We have to get that back, we have to TAKE it back if we must. Because we can't be truly great again, and truly realize our promise and purpose, to provide freedom and opportunity for all, until we get back there.

25 Things About Me

So this little Facebook time-waster has taken off like you wouldn't believe. And it's really one of the few things that are actually interesting. I mean, I don't really care 'Which 80s Movie Defines You" or about planting electronic trees in a "Lil' Green patch." But people writing about themselves in this manner is interesting and often quite revealing. And that's what makes this social networking stuff actually worthwhile, when you actually get something out of it that gives you a better understanding of the person you're "talking" to. I mean, that's the purpose of human interaction and emotional expression, right?

Anyhow, for you non-Facebookers out there (what are there, like 4 of you left?) -- here's my "25 Things About Me" list, thanks to my sister-in-law who got me to actually do it. And remember, if you think it's pretentious, so is the whole concept of personal blogs anyway...

1. I'm actually quite quiet and shy, although I've gotten a lot better with it over the years. I still tend to not speak until spoken to and wait for people to make the first move. I guess sometimes I'm difficult to know.

2. All that said, I'm extremely loyal to my friends, maybe to a fault. If you're one of my friends, you're there for life.

3. I hate the cold. I honestly don't know why I stayed in the Chicago climate, as winter depresses the hell out of me every year. Give me the warmth and the water.

4. If I ever won the lottery, I'd never wear socks again. See number 3.

5. As an addendum to #4, I guess I'd wear socks to baseball practice, because if I won the lottery, I'd just coach baseball. It's just about my favorite thing, coaching the kids. There's nothing I find more rewarding.

6. My kids are my life. They're my greatest joy and my proudest achievement. At the end of the day, they're how I hope I left the world a better place than when I came in it.

7. Yes, I'm a Bruce Springsteen fanatic, and have seen him over 30 times, but I love all types of music. I'm pretty eclectic in my musical choices. I still think that the "Theme from Shaft" is one of my favorite pieces of music, just for the arrangement. I love the way the instruments are layered into that piece by piece. Isaac Hayes was a true genius. But "Thunder Road" is still the greatest song ever written. I literally still get goosebumps when the instrumental coda hits. It makes me feel ALIVE.

8. My life is the quest for the Ultimate Cheeseburger. The winner so far? Still the Abbey Pub right next to St. Norbert College in DePere, WI. I don't know if that place is even there anymore, but it's still the best I ever had.

9. I love to play guitar. I don't play well at all, but it's something I enjoy doing for myself. I wish I was better. And I wish I could sing.

10. I've owned 17 cars. My first one was a 1971 VW Bug that I got when I was 15.

11. I also love motorcycles. Never had one, but have always wanted one. I even have it picked out.

12. I drink Miller High Life because it tastes good. I like some of the other microbrews and stuff too, but I'm not a beer snob. But I like beer in a bottle, not a can.

13. My sports idol has always been, and will always be, Walter Payton. And it's absolutely true, I gave him a ride on my back once. My true hero though is my dad. He's always defined everything a man is supposed to be to me and he was all I wanted to be when I grew up. One of his friends once told me, "your father is one of the few truly good men I know." I aspire to have someone say that about me someday, I don't think you can do better than that.

14. I write as a cathartic exercise. It might be song lyrics, or short essays or even poetry. But it's my coping mechanism. Someday, maybe I'll publish it all.

15. Any house that I live in has to have a fireplace. That's non-negotiable.

16. I can name that Brady Bunch episode within the first 15 seconds...

17. I think my best physical feature is my chin. My worst? My hair.

18. Yes, I do impressions. And don't get me started, because I'll annoy the hell out of you. I think my Marlon Brando in The Godfather is my best...

19. I'm afraid of heights and I'm slightly claustrophobic.

20. I like to put the Christmas lights up right after Thanksgiving and they need to come down right after New Year's.

21. My favorite holiday is actually Independence Day.

22. My wife tells me that I'm actually a clothes hound. My closet is more full than hers. It's just that none of it's stylish, so no one would know. And I have a hard time getting rid of clothes.

23. I like to vacuum. I don't know why.

24. My favorite meal to eat out is breakfast.

25. I have a bottle of champagne waiting to be opened when the Cubs win the pennant. I've had it for over 20 years. It was on ice in October 2003, but alas, still unopened. It may be the vilest substance known to man when it finally happens, but it's going to taste sweet. And I'm going to open it someday. Someday.