Oh to have the energy of the youth

Posted on January 7, 2016 by Bob Martin

I have written before about being an older dad and the joys of seeing the world through the eyes of an eight year old. I love having talks with my daughter and letting her share her imagination and point of view. Her innocence is uplifting. I envy her naïvety. However, today has nothing to do with her imagination or her dreams of the world. It is her energy – boy does she have a lot of it.

In my 50 years, I have often heard, and even at times muttered it myself, that people wish they could have some of their energy while pointing to a group of youngsters. They run around all day long and could go deep into the night if allowed. Many times I wonder if my daughter knows anything about being tired. According to her, she never gets tired.

I am finding that as an adult I, and from what I can tell those adults I hang with, wish not to be young but to have the feeling of youth. We want to be more energetic. We want to run. Hell – there are days I just want to stay up long enough to see Leno, no wait…… well whoever took over for Carson. Once again, I learned, through an eight year-old, that this is possible. It is not about the energy; it is about the attitude.

I came home the other day tired. We just started back at work after the Christmas break. No matter how rested you are when you go back, the first day seems like it will never end and it just saps you. My day did just that. I actually had a great day at work, but it just took a lot of energy. I longed to be back on vacation and taking walks in the snow. By the time I came home, I was ready to be a 50 year-old. I wanted to have dinner, sit in my chair, watch a little TV, and nod off. Life knows better.

After dinner, I had to sit down with my little one to practice piano. Sitting down to practice piano with a child can be related to … well I am not sure. You never know what you are going to get. If she is tired, there will be a lot of eye rolling and banging on keys with the “I can’t do it.” If she had a new song that she likes, there will be focus and quality attempts at the work. However, even this can become frustrating for her if she makes the same mistake over and over. The good days can be a lot of fun. The music just seems to happen, and I can enjoy rocking in my chair listening to the notes just float out about the room. Then there was the night in question, it was none of those.

My pianist had ENERGY!!! This little musician had joy and humor abound. Everything was funny. I had to make a decision. I could force her to sit and play or I could let things roll. I chose to let things roll. I wish I could say that my decision was based on making my daughter happy, but it was that I chose the thing that took less energy. I chose right.

She made mistakes, but would start again with a little giggle at her mistake. She started adding notes and making chords that weren’t in the music. She actually added to what was on the paper. She danced her fingers along the keys happily tapping out scales – scales!!! She hates them. Then it happened.

Kia, our four-legged, furry cat, decided to partake and jumped up on the keyboard. She walked all the way from the lower register to the highest key. Giggles could not be stopped now. The giggles were no longer a single voice. How could I not be laughing with Beethoven Jr.?

The lesson lasted longer than normal, but no one seemed to care. We ended it and turned off the keyboard. As we got up from the lesson, it hit me. I was no longer tired. I had some energy. I felt like I could run into the night. My daughter had given me some of her energy, and yet did not seem to be any worse for wear. Adults often want the energy of the youth, but cannot figure out how to get it. I tripped upon it. All I had to do was choose to let it happen.

Now I can see the world through her eyes and gain some of her energy. Being a dad is great.

Just for the record. The energy she provided does seem to run low quicker in an adult than a child. While she provided me with some energy during our time together. I still didn’t make it to see who is on after the news.

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Doing the right thing can be hard – Where is karma when you need it?

Posted on January 6, 2016 by Bob Martin

Tonight, while pulling into the parking lot to go see my daughter dance, I backed into another vehicle. The parking lot is dark and the gray car was difficult to see. I wasn’t going fast and my back end bumped in to the other vehicle’s back end. I immediately pulled aside, put on the four-ways and checked for damage. Both cars had a couple of scratches. Now the decision to be made – walk away, go into the dance school, and forget about it, or……….. do the right thing.

My mind brought forth all of the lessons that my wife and I have been teaching our daughter. They can all be summed up in a single thought – Do the right thing even especially when no one is looking. All of my scout lessons when I was a leader, my talks at confirmation class, and conversations with my daughter led up to this moment. What type of character do I have? DO I practice what I preach? Would I be able to live with the Catholic guilt?

I chose to do the right thing. The dance school is in a small little strip mall with about five businesses. I checked the dance school employees and parents, I walked to all of the businesses – even the one across the street. I could not find the person. I started thinking of just leaving a note, but with Los Angeles actually getting rain today, I feared that the note would fall apart. I stood in the parking lot and waited.

The gentleman came from a business outside the area. Wait a minute, he shouldn’t have been using this parking lot. Did I think that? I need to remain focused on the task at hand. I informed the driver what happened and we pulled out our phones to use flashlights. Inside I was hoping that he would say, “Eh. It’s just a little scratch. Don’t worry about it.” No such luck. He looked at me and said, “Well this will have to be fixed. It will be $200.”

Wait! How does he know the price? He informed me that the car just came out of the body shop for the front end. We started talking about whether it should be through insurance. Now he states that it is probably $300. I requested a quote on paper. Now it is a wait and see game. He got in his car and left. While I wasn’t expecting a bunch of pleasantries, a “thank you for waiting around” would have been nice. I could not help but wonder if this person would have stuck around had the tables been turned. STOP, STOP, STOP. I can’t think that way.

So how does karma play in to this story? After sorting out the above incident, I went in to watch what was left of my daughter’s class. My phone vibrated and the notice stated that I had memories on Facebook. I scanned through them looking for something to lighten the mood. Instead…..

Facebook felt the need to remind me that three years ago something similar happened. A person had dinged my car and left a note. I contacted the person and he asked for a quote. He also had his son apologize for being careless. When I found that a ding not even the size of a penny would cost $700 (the body shop said it was because it was on a door), I told the other person to forget about it. The dad was happy and even told me he might not have been so nice.

People always talk about how “what goes around, comes around.” I always here people tell those who have been slighted, “Don’t worry karma is a b…. and they will get theirs.” It would be nice if karma worked the other way as well. I knew when I did the right thing that it would most likely hit the pocket-book. I knew that most people would not walk away from a new paint job. It would have just been nice if it felt better.

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Mourn or celebrate?

Posted on January 4, 2016 by Bob Martin

It feels odd as we finish off the “Most Wonderful Time of the Year” to be writing about the effects of mourning. As I drive through my neighborhood, lights are still up, blow-ups are still full of air and waving, and, depending on the station, the odd Christmas song can still be heard. Love and joy are still in the air. You can still go to the supermarket and find customers being nice to each other. The eggnog has yet to wear off. So why go to such a sad subject?

In the last two weeks, I have read about or been notified of the deaths of two former military colleagues and one gentle soul from our church. There is an old saying that death comes in three. Once again, it has lived up to its reputation.

Death is odd. Every single day, you hear the news reporting a number of fatalities especially since I live in the Los Angeles area. I have the news on during breakfast and hear the reports in-between crunches of cereal. Some days the numbers are very high, others one or two. I take a moment and feel sadness for the families, and then the story changes to the next topic. I move on with my day. Death has been heard but it is not felt.

The odd thing is that when you hear of situations with large numbers of deaths the feelings are sometimes not felt since it is too much for the mind to wrap around. You sit in disbelief when you hear the number of fatalities from a tsunami, tornado, or war. It is hard to think of individuals when you hear those numbers.

But when Death decides to take people that you know – then it gets personal. You stop what you are doing. It is no longer news in passing, it affects you. The mixed emotions start. Do you mourn the loss of a friend or celebrate the life of the individual? Can you do both? If you are a person of faith, shouldn’t you have feelings of joy for the person? Death brings so many ingredients into the mix.

It is also interesting to examine your thoughts of those who have passed. The first of the three fell to a heart attack. He lived far away and it has been a long time since we last worked together. However, a sadness still filled me. I could not help but think of his family and the sadness; even more so considering the time of year. Keith’s services brought together a number of former colleagues, and I read each of their posts. They talked about Keith, but more about how we are all aging and how sad that it is something like this that needs to happen to bring everyone together.

Two days after Christmas, I read in shock of a second passing. This one was of another colleague who passed due to an accident at home after an illness. I could not help but stop and think that Julie should still be with us. She was too young to die – then again death does not judge based on age. Social media started filling up with how she was a bright light to the world. Comments came about how much Julie had done to make others feel better about themselves. Her young son put up a post about now living without a mother. Death cheated many people from knowing this beautiful person.

Today death once again surprised me with another passing. A dear friend, John Whittet, passed. John had lived a long and full life; he was just shy of 86. Some might consider his passing to be a fact of life at this age. However, while I am saddened by each; it is John’s passing that affected me the most. The world lost a gentle soul with is passing.

As I mentioned, though, death brings a mix of emotions. At first I had sadness fill my heart, but, oddly enough, joy, happiness, and celebration started to grow. It grew to the point that sadness had no choice but to leave.

My celebration and joy was not only for the life that John led in the time that I have known him, but I also celebrated the fact that I got to know him. I got to learn from John. John worked in many ministries within our parish. We sang together. He greeted people. He played sheriff at our fiesta. He worked hard to make our church welcoming. John also was the Safety Officer for our school. It was within this position that I truly got to meet and know John. Every morning he would stand at the gate and greet each and every student and family. He smiled. His smile was neither small nor a smirk. It was the biggest smile one could ever have, and it was genuine. He loved his job and it showed.

John also had stories. I am ashamed to admit that there were times that when I saw John, I would check my watch to see if I had time. Most mornings I did, some I did not. I am sorry for those mornings when responsibilities told me that I could not stop. I missed out on a great story each and every time I passed him by.

I think that this is part of why we mourn for people. We realize what we missed by the way we treated them. We understand that there is no longer a chance to rectify the wrongs. We immediately start to miss what was best about that person even when we did not understand it while we had them right in front of us. We see the good in them that we hope will one day be seen in us. That is what John was good. Good that the world still needs and now the rest of us must now carry on.

I celebrate John. I thank him for giving me the time of day even when I did not think I had it for him. I appreciate how he looked after my child and all the others at the school as if they were his own. I am joyful that he was part of my life.

So I hope that Death is done for now though I know tomorrow morning I will hear the news. I will hear more names. I will hope that those connected to those names will be able to, after a bit, celebrate the life that was.

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Words can hurt – when they echo back

Posted on January 2, 2016 by Bob Martin

I find it appropriate that my first entry occurs on New Year’s Day and that it centers on quitting. The two seem to go hand-in-hand for so many people. Many people might think I have this backwards. New Year’s has nothing to do with quitting – it is all about starting or starting again. Look at me, I am starting this site on that oh so special day of resolutions. This day is not about quitting or is it?

So why talk about quitting?

This morning, while trying to put together some writings, my daughter joined me with her little notebooks, pens, plain paper, and clipboard. She likes to sit and draw while I write. At the age of 8, she is determined to be an artist. The interesting thing is that this has been her choice of careers for over four years now. While she states this, she is not always willing to work towards the goal – she is 8.

As I sat at my keyboard, playing some great jazz, the budding artist kept asking to watch a YouTube channel. Her friend had introduced her to a great site for showing children how to draw. I played an episode and then she walked away to her place. A few minutes later she would jump off the bed with a huge smile and a finished product. She amazed me as she offered up almost an exact likeness of what had been shown in the video. Her smiles showed that she understood her talent and how much joy it brought. Then it happened…

We watched an episode on drawing an animated cupcake. So cute, yet much more difficult to get like the video. She went to her spot and tried. I heard a grunt or growl followed by the eraser removing the first attempt. The sounds went quiet. I looked over to see a totally focused youngin’. I could tell with the tongue hanging out. This attempt ended much like the first.

She brought her clipboard back to the computer. “Daddy. This is hard.” I could hear defeat. We watched the video once again. She tried while standing at the computer. No luck. She stopped drawing. “I can’t do this.”

I tried to talk her through her steps, but the decision had been made. It would not happen. “This is too hard. It doesn’t look like the picture. I CAN’T DO IT!” Words of encouragement failed.

My teaching brain kicked in and I saw this as one of those moments. “Are you quitting?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you a quitter?” I went too far. The tears started and off she ran. Daddy screwed up.

I let her be, I let her think. She returned within five minutes telling me that I hurt her feelings. Words I hear about all too often now-a-days. “I am not a quitter,” she whispered. We talked about what quitting means. We talked about the difference between setting something down for a while and quitting when things become difficult. She took up pencil and tried for fifteen more minutes before taking a break.

Yes, my words hurt her, but hopefully she understands. Then the echoes started and the words started attacking me. I realized once again that children take after their parents in many ways. I looked inwards and realized that she learned to quit from me.

How many things do we, as adults, start but stop as soon as it proves to be more difficult than first thought. How many things do we start with the best of intentions but stop due to – not enough time, other obligations, not the fun we thought, or worse – we stop without even realizing that we stop.

I have tried weight loss only to find myself nibbling a few days later thinking it is okay, one should not go cold turkey. The nibbling continued with that thought and the exercise waned as the days became busy.

I have tried learning languages. The first week, I worked at it every day. I learned a few words or phrases. Then I missed a day – no problem. I missed another day, must get back to it tomorrow. Tomorrow never came.

As I pondered my past, my daughter moved my keyboard. It is a cheap keyboard and one leg broke off days after getting it. The little artist found a harmonica propping up the keyboard, “What’s this?”

Outwardly, I tell her what a harmonica is and how it works. Inwardly, I stated – a failure. Something I quit.

So today I start this blog. I look to put thoughts to electrons. I will work to show my daughter that when you are doing something you want to do, quitting is the last option. Work, determination, and perseverance are the things needed to succeed.

So back to my comparison of quitting and New Year’s. So many make resolutions to better themselves, improve the world, start a new hobby only to drop off by mid-January. I wish upon all of you that if it is truly something you want that you don’t quit. Try each and every day and if you falter, oh well. If you falter, remember to get up and try again even if that means starting over.

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