Its hard to believe that its that time of year again. Soon I will have posted my resolutions on this blog for the third straight year. Time flies... Here's a recap of my '07 list:
2007 New Year's Resolutions (in no particular order):
1. Spend more time in nature. (Including spending a weekend alone in the woods.)
2. Build a treehouse/clubhouse "for Alex."
3. Fix up the old truck in time for fishin' season and learn the art of catfishing.
4. Be a better family man.
5. Be a better friend.
6. Study and practice Buddhism.
7. Laugh more.
8. Make people laugh.
9. Be happy.
10. Make people happy.
Well, I didn't spend a weekend alone in the woods, but we did camp as a family for a week in Colorado. The clubhouse/party porch did get built. The truck got fixed up and is a stellar tailgating truck. I haven't mastered the art of catfishing, but I've got a plan for that in '08. Resolutions #4 thru #10 are going pretty well too, although I have much more to learn about Buddhism. All in all, I think I did a pretty good job of sticking to my resolutions this year. How did you do? Please feel free to leave your comments here regarding your take on New Year's Resolutions. On my next posting I will list my resolutions for '08. Until then, Happy Holidays everybody!
Friday, December 28, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Snow Day '07
I may hate ice, but I don't mind a little snow. In fact, it can be a lot of fun. Alex and I went sledding this morning and the dogs "enjoyed" a brief foray into the white stuff. Well, Woody (Elwood) and Princess frolicked a bit, but Ol' Jake- not so much. He actually stood on the porch and took a dump rather than get his delicate feet wet in the snow. I guess when you're 91 you can crap wherever you want. Lately, Jake has taken to plopping a fresh one in the middle of his bed. So we really don't mind it if he decides to "redecorate" the porch.
Happy Snow Day, everyone! Enjoy some time with your kids (two-legged or four.)
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
A Few Thoughts On Ice
I hate ice. There, I said it. After over half an inch of ice accumulated Saturday night, our power went out. It was out for about 13 hours before the hard-working folks at AmerenUE got service restored. Then it iced again Monday night. Our power was out again until about 7:30 Tuesday evening. In the spirit of Charles Ingalls, I kept the homefires burning while Ma kept food in our bellies and made fireplace coffee and hot chocolate. At one point I ventured out to collect more firewood only to be turned back when a massive tree limb fell onto my woodpile just in front of me. I may not have been killed, but I doubt I would be able to type this had I been hit.
The inch or so of ice on our driveway has made the tailgatin' truck indispensible. Especially when you consider that over a half-dozen trees are bent down to the ground along our driveway obstructing our path in and out of our homestead. I have been forced to drive in the neighbor's field just to get out. Since Bethany's van cannot be driven, I have been driving her to town where she has a company car parked overnight. And I used the truck to pull a van out of an icy patch on our gravel road the other night. The other driver is a furnace repairman who was very grateful and offered his services to us next time our furnace quits (which it has done twice before).
Things aren't all bad, though. I had to take Alex and Bethany to town today, so I got to work way too early- thus affording me this opportunity to do a little blogging before clocking in. While at the gas station in Ashland this morning I got to meet several AmerenUE linesmen. I thanked them for their hardwork and told them to tell their crews how grateful we were to have power again this morning. One guy took a particular liking to my truck and asked if he could have his picture taken by it. I said of course and then he whipped out his University of Illinois hat and posed for some photos that he planned on sending to his son- a Mizzou graduate.
The neatest thing about the Ice Storm of 2007 was taking advantage of the lack of technological distractions around the house. Our family played games by firelight, cozied up together in front of the fireplace, and read together. Per Brother Blake's suggestion, I actually pulled out Laura Ingalls Wilder's "Little House in the Big Woods" and read it to my family last night. I managed to get through the first couple of chapters before our lights came back on. You know what? I kept reading for a little while because I really enjoyed the peace and quiet and the simple pleasures of "pioneer living." A part of me was actually sad to see the lights come back on. But quickly I realized how lucky we all were to have power again and then I microwaved some vittles for us to eat.
After work today I get to cut down a few trees so that Bethany can get her van out tomorrow. Maybe I'll use an ax like Pa Ingalls... Nah. I'm pretty sure he'd use a chainsaw if he had one.
The inch or so of ice on our driveway has made the tailgatin' truck indispensible. Especially when you consider that over a half-dozen trees are bent down to the ground along our driveway obstructing our path in and out of our homestead. I have been forced to drive in the neighbor's field just to get out. Since Bethany's van cannot be driven, I have been driving her to town where she has a company car parked overnight. And I used the truck to pull a van out of an icy patch on our gravel road the other night. The other driver is a furnace repairman who was very grateful and offered his services to us next time our furnace quits (which it has done twice before).
Things aren't all bad, though. I had to take Alex and Bethany to town today, so I got to work way too early- thus affording me this opportunity to do a little blogging before clocking in. While at the gas station in Ashland this morning I got to meet several AmerenUE linesmen. I thanked them for their hardwork and told them to tell their crews how grateful we were to have power again this morning. One guy took a particular liking to my truck and asked if he could have his picture taken by it. I said of course and then he whipped out his University of Illinois hat and posed for some photos that he planned on sending to his son- a Mizzou graduate.
The neatest thing about the Ice Storm of 2007 was taking advantage of the lack of technological distractions around the house. Our family played games by firelight, cozied up together in front of the fireplace, and read together. Per Brother Blake's suggestion, I actually pulled out Laura Ingalls Wilder's "Little House in the Big Woods" and read it to my family last night. I managed to get through the first couple of chapters before our lights came back on. You know what? I kept reading for a little while because I really enjoyed the peace and quiet and the simple pleasures of "pioneer living." A part of me was actually sad to see the lights come back on. But quickly I realized how lucky we all were to have power again and then I microwaved some vittles for us to eat.
After work today I get to cut down a few trees so that Bethany can get her van out tomorrow. Maybe I'll use an ax like Pa Ingalls... Nah. I'm pretty sure he'd use a chainsaw if he had one.
Friday, December 07, 2007
The Rewards of Living Debt-Free
Financial guru Dave Ramsey says, "Live like no one else so that later you can live like no one else." You have undoubtedly read my posts on this blog supporting Dave's plan. Here it is in a nutshell:
1. Aggressively pay off debts. Using "gazelle intensity", focus on paying off one debt at a time beginning with the smallest one first. This "debt snowball" will gather momentum as you pay off debts until one day you become debt-free.
2. What to do with all that extra money (Part 1)?
a. Set aside some money in an emergency fund.
b. Invest in your retirement.
3. What to do with all that extra money after fully funding the emergency fund?
a. Continue to invest toward retirement.
b. Give to charity.
c. Save money to buy things with cash so that you'll never have debt again.
I am happy to report that we are at step three finally. My reward for "living like no one else" is that I get to by a new(er) car. My 1996 ex-cop car is flirting with 180,000 miles. It still runs very well, but is getting a little rough around the edges. Sometime in early 2008, I plan to buy a 2004 Ford Police Interceptor with less than 70,000 miles. Why another cop car you may ask?
#1: More power. The 2004 model is the first to offer 250 horsepower and nearly 300 ft lb of torque.
#2: Better handling. 2004 was the first year that Ford placed the rear shocks outside of the frame rails giving the car a sportier ride and more stability when cornering.
#3: Sleek looks. The newer body style of the 2004 "Crown Vic" is way cool to look at.
Why a cop car in the first place? There are very few choices when one desires a rear wheel drive, V8 powered, four door car. BMW and Mercedes are about the only other options on the market, but who can afford those? The Interceptor also has heavy duty shocks, an oil-cooler, a transmission cooler, a high-amp alternator, and of course- a spotlight to aim at drunks downtown (just kidding). Besides, no one pulls out of the fast lane to let a Beemer or Mercedes by, but you can bet your ass a new cop car will move 'em over.
"Livin' like no one else"- that pretty much sums me up wouldn't you say?
Monday, December 03, 2007
Innocence Lost (and Found)
Can you look back at your life and pinpoint the exact moment that your childhood innocence was lost? It may have been the first time you stole something, had sex, witnessed a murder, etc. I can tell you the exact moment in time that changed me forever.
I was a 17 year old boy living in Hannibal, Mo back in 1988. On a cold, wintry day I went to my friend Rick's house to hang out. When I arrived, Rick said his folks were gone for the day and we were going to raid their liquor cabinet. I initially hesitated, but eventually caved to the pressure. Rick told me if I didn't drink a shot, then he would pour it all over me so that my dad would smell alcohol on me when I went home. Eighteen shots and a bologna sandwich later, I puked my guts out all over his house. A little while later my girlfriend, who was back in town during winter break, came over and tried to comfort me as I recovered from the ordeal. (The irony is that she had been a bit of a party girl before we began dating and I told her that I would not tolerate being with someone who drank. We were only in high school after all. She never drank a drop the entire two years we were together, but after she went off to college, we both made some pretty lousy choices.) I was ashamed of myself, and as I sobered up I realized my dad would be coming to pick me up soon. I knew Dad would kill me as soon as he smelled me, so I made my peace with the universe and prepared to die.
When I got in the car, Dad looked at me and asked, "What's that smell?" My heart skipped a beat as I tried to think of an answer. Before I could speak he added, "It smells like hot dogs." Amazed at my luck, I replied that I had just eaten a bologna sandwich (which was true) and he let it go. Right then and there my life was forever changed. My innocence was gone. One day I was this honest kid who never lied to his parents, never drank alcohol, and never hung out with the "wrong crowd". The next day, I was everything I despised.
Years later, I broke off the friendship that started me down the wrong path. I asked myself how I let someone influence me in such negative ways. Sure, I had a lot of fun during my "party days", but at what cost? The biggest cost was paid in the form of another friendship that virtually ended at the same time that my friendship with Rick developed.
Trey Latta was my best friend from fourth through tenth grade. For seven years, we were inseparable. We both were products of divorced parents, enjoyed the same activities, and lived a few blocks from each other. Its fair to say I spent more time at Trey's house than at my own during those years. In fact, my mom rented and occupied the basement of Trey's house for a few years. We were more like brothers than friends. When high school rolled around, I spent more and more time with Rick, who sat beside me in band. Eventually, Trey started spending more time with other people too, and after a time, we stopped hanging out altogether. Trey didn't go out drinking every weekend. He didn't lie to his parents. He didn't turn his back on his childhood friend. But I sure did. Although I cherish my other friends now, I've never had a bond with any of them nearly as strong as the one I had with Trey. My best friendship was lost at the same time as my innocence back in 1988. I ran into Trey during college once in a while, but until this past weekend I hadn't seen nor spoken to him since our ten-year reunion in back in 2000.
Thanks to my blog, Trey found me and contacted me a few weeks ago. We emailed back and forth and he said that he is living in St. Peters, Mo now. I told him that I would be in his town for the grand opening of our new Treats Unleashed store on Dec. 1 and we made plans to get together. When I saw him walking into the store, my anxiety instantly faded away and smiles spread over both of our faces. I met his beautiful wife and children. He met Alex (Bethany had to work that day). We asked about each other's parents, siblings, grandparents, etc. We watched his 18 month old son eat cookie after cookie while my son was sneaking even more behind my back. We laughed about old memories and talked for over an hour. In that short amount of time, all of those warm feelings of our childhood returned, without any ill feelings or resentment whatsoever. It was great to see Trey again.
I've come a long way since that day at Rick's house. (I hate to say this) I've matured. I've learned. I've healed. I am pretty much the person I want to be. Its been a long process, but when I spoke to my old friend that day I got the sense that I had found what was once lost: A best friend. A brother. My innocence. My self. And for the first time in decades, I realized that I actually like who I am. That's a pretty good feeling. Thanks Trey.
I was a 17 year old boy living in Hannibal, Mo back in 1988. On a cold, wintry day I went to my friend Rick's house to hang out. When I arrived, Rick said his folks were gone for the day and we were going to raid their liquor cabinet. I initially hesitated, but eventually caved to the pressure. Rick told me if I didn't drink a shot, then he would pour it all over me so that my dad would smell alcohol on me when I went home. Eighteen shots and a bologna sandwich later, I puked my guts out all over his house. A little while later my girlfriend, who was back in town during winter break, came over and tried to comfort me as I recovered from the ordeal. (The irony is that she had been a bit of a party girl before we began dating and I told her that I would not tolerate being with someone who drank. We were only in high school after all. She never drank a drop the entire two years we were together, but after she went off to college, we both made some pretty lousy choices.) I was ashamed of myself, and as I sobered up I realized my dad would be coming to pick me up soon. I knew Dad would kill me as soon as he smelled me, so I made my peace with the universe and prepared to die.
When I got in the car, Dad looked at me and asked, "What's that smell?" My heart skipped a beat as I tried to think of an answer. Before I could speak he added, "It smells like hot dogs." Amazed at my luck, I replied that I had just eaten a bologna sandwich (which was true) and he let it go. Right then and there my life was forever changed. My innocence was gone. One day I was this honest kid who never lied to his parents, never drank alcohol, and never hung out with the "wrong crowd". The next day, I was everything I despised.
Years later, I broke off the friendship that started me down the wrong path. I asked myself how I let someone influence me in such negative ways. Sure, I had a lot of fun during my "party days", but at what cost? The biggest cost was paid in the form of another friendship that virtually ended at the same time that my friendship with Rick developed.
Trey Latta was my best friend from fourth through tenth grade. For seven years, we were inseparable. We both were products of divorced parents, enjoyed the same activities, and lived a few blocks from each other. Its fair to say I spent more time at Trey's house than at my own during those years. In fact, my mom rented and occupied the basement of Trey's house for a few years. We were more like brothers than friends. When high school rolled around, I spent more and more time with Rick, who sat beside me in band. Eventually, Trey started spending more time with other people too, and after a time, we stopped hanging out altogether. Trey didn't go out drinking every weekend. He didn't lie to his parents. He didn't turn his back on his childhood friend. But I sure did. Although I cherish my other friends now, I've never had a bond with any of them nearly as strong as the one I had with Trey. My best friendship was lost at the same time as my innocence back in 1988. I ran into Trey during college once in a while, but until this past weekend I hadn't seen nor spoken to him since our ten-year reunion in back in 2000.
Thanks to my blog, Trey found me and contacted me a few weeks ago. We emailed back and forth and he said that he is living in St. Peters, Mo now. I told him that I would be in his town for the grand opening of our new Treats Unleashed store on Dec. 1 and we made plans to get together. When I saw him walking into the store, my anxiety instantly faded away and smiles spread over both of our faces. I met his beautiful wife and children. He met Alex (Bethany had to work that day). We asked about each other's parents, siblings, grandparents, etc. We watched his 18 month old son eat cookie after cookie while my son was sneaking even more behind my back. We laughed about old memories and talked for over an hour. In that short amount of time, all of those warm feelings of our childhood returned, without any ill feelings or resentment whatsoever. It was great to see Trey again.
I've come a long way since that day at Rick's house. (I hate to say this) I've matured. I've learned. I've healed. I am pretty much the person I want to be. Its been a long process, but when I spoke to my old friend that day I got the sense that I had found what was once lost: A best friend. A brother. My innocence. My self. And for the first time in decades, I realized that I actually like who I am. That's a pretty good feeling. Thanks Trey.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
What Really Matters?
Sure, the Tigers blew their chance at a national championship. Did it make me and thousands of other Mizzou fans physiclly ill? You bet. But does it really matter? It is just a game afterall. Why then, do we allow ourselves to spiritually live and die through a sports team's successes and failures? It can't be that football or other sports are so important that the universe will cease to be if the games weren't played. There must be something else that compells us to invest so much of our hearts and souls on the outcome of a game played by people we don't even know.
My theory is that watching sports is an attempt to fill a void in our lives. Somehow, being a fan of a team is a replacement for something we perceive to be missing in our souls. Being a vicarious part of a team somehow gives us something to live for, even if we have a family and friends and a great job to fill that role. We all yearn to be a part of something greater than ourselves. Religion has primarily served in this capacity for thousands of years. Man needs to know that he fits into a bigger plan. He needs to feel like there is something more than working, eating, sleeping, and dying. Religion and sports give him something else to live for.
Why does man feel this need to be a part of something bigger than himself? Why can't we be content with enjoying the simple pleasures of our daily lives? Savoring a good meal, breathing in fresh mountain air, completing a difficult task at work, holding hands with a spouse, listening to a child's laughter, and waking up refreshed after a good night's sleep are all simple things that we should derive great satisfaction from. A Buddhist would say that we should practice right-mindfulness. We should take the time to stop and appreciate these gifts we receive everyday. They are not complicated, yet when we take a moment to appreciate them, we realize how fortunate we are to have them. We understand how incredibly lucky we are to have a family, our health, an occupation, etc. When we pause to contemplate how blessed we are to experience these great things, then we find joy and true happiness in this life. We no longer need to look outside of ourselves for something more to satisfy us. We don't need to live vicariously through a sports team in order to feel that we are a part of something wonderful. We already are a part of such a thing. It is called life.
Be grateful. Be joyous. Be in the moment. Be content. The key to happiness is simply to take a moment everyday to realize how blessed we are. If the Tigers win, then that's just icing on the cake.
My theory is that watching sports is an attempt to fill a void in our lives. Somehow, being a fan of a team is a replacement for something we perceive to be missing in our souls. Being a vicarious part of a team somehow gives us something to live for, even if we have a family and friends and a great job to fill that role. We all yearn to be a part of something greater than ourselves. Religion has primarily served in this capacity for thousands of years. Man needs to know that he fits into a bigger plan. He needs to feel like there is something more than working, eating, sleeping, and dying. Religion and sports give him something else to live for.
Why does man feel this need to be a part of something bigger than himself? Why can't we be content with enjoying the simple pleasures of our daily lives? Savoring a good meal, breathing in fresh mountain air, completing a difficult task at work, holding hands with a spouse, listening to a child's laughter, and waking up refreshed after a good night's sleep are all simple things that we should derive great satisfaction from. A Buddhist would say that we should practice right-mindfulness. We should take the time to stop and appreciate these gifts we receive everyday. They are not complicated, yet when we take a moment to appreciate them, we realize how fortunate we are to have them. We understand how incredibly lucky we are to have a family, our health, an occupation, etc. When we pause to contemplate how blessed we are to experience these great things, then we find joy and true happiness in this life. We no longer need to look outside of ourselves for something more to satisfy us. We don't need to live vicariously through a sports team in order to feel that we are a part of something wonderful. We already are a part of such a thing. It is called life.
Be grateful. Be joyous. Be in the moment. Be content. The key to happiness is simply to take a moment everyday to realize how blessed we are. If the Tigers win, then that's just icing on the cake.
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