Blog of a Common Man: If I live to be 100...

Blog of a Common Man: If I live to be 100...: My grandma is 90 years old.   She just turned 90, in fact, a couple of weeks ago.   I got a chance to see her the last time my wife and...

If I live to be 100...

My grandma is 90 years old.  She just turned 90, in fact, a couple of weeks ago.  I got a chance to see her the last time my wife and I were in town.  She’s still living on her own.  She drives, and keeps herself in good health.  She’s an active athletic booster for the University of New Mexico Lobos.  She has season tickets and catches as many football and basketball games she can.  She’s also an avid Denver Broncos fan.  She took a trip to Denver recently to watch the Broncos host the Chargers.  She got to meet with John Elway while she was there and even had an opportunity to shake Peyton Manning’s hand and ask him “What the hell happened out there?” when the Broncos lost the game.  My grandma is one of a kind!

If I were lucky enough to live to be a 100 or even as close as my grandma is right now, what would I hope to accomplish in life?  What would make me feel that I live a full life?  Would I have any regrets?  Would I wish I had done things differently?

I’m more than halfway to the century mark right now.  I’d prefer to think that I still have half a century left in my life as opposed to thinking my life is half over.  My life to this point has certainly had its ups and downs, but I chose to think that my life has been a good one so far.

So, what is it about my life that makes me feel blessed?  It starts with family.  My mom and dad are still alive and healthy.  Both parents have always loved me and continue to tell me how glad they are that I’m their son.  I have two wonderful stepparents that love my mom and dad unconditionally.  My step dad has become like a second father to me.  He inspires me with his vision and drive for life.  I’m blessed to be married to my best friend.  I couldn’t imagine my life without her.  She’s my rock and keeps my mind in proper perspective.  Together we have four beautiful children.  I have two incredible daughters from a previous marriage, and two stepchildren that I proudly call my own.  My oldest daughter is one of the brightest personalities I know.  She’s creative, sensitive and always willing to serve.  She’s chosen a career of social work because of her passion for others.  My middle daughter is one of a kind.  She’s athletic, intelligent, and always looking for ways to love others.  Her real desire in life is to love and be loved.  My youngest daughter is smart, talented and artistic; her imagination knows no bounds.  She sings like an angel, and God only knows what’s in store for her as she ventures out into the world in a few short years.  My only son is one of the most sensitive young men I’ve ever known.  That’s not to say he’s weak, just the opposite.  He’s strong until it hurts.  He takes care of his mind and his body.  We’ve never had to worry that he’d make the wrong choices.  He’s a thrill to coach on the field, and he’s the guy I want at the plate when we need a double to win the game.

I’ve had an opportunity to serve my country, first as a submariner for nearly 12 years, then as a civil service employee for another 12.  I’ve been both a public and private school teacher.  They were some of the most rewarding times of my life.  The combination of my work experience and education has allowed my family and I to live in a warm, loving place to come home to each evening.  I’m blessed with numerous friends, past and present.  I stay in contact with former students and athletes I’ve had the privilege of teaching and coaching.  In all honesty, this first half of my life has been sheer joy.  Sure, I’ve had some bumps in the road but my God has been beside me every step of the way.  I have no doubt that as I start the second half He will be right there with me to the end.

I’m a list kind-of-guy.  My wife will tell you that I’ve got mental check boxes.  When I’ve got things to do I place them on a list and check them off as I get them accomplished.  With that in mind here’s my list (with check boxes included) of what I’d like to accomplish as God guides in the 3^rd and 4^th quarters of life:

§ Keep working until my body and mind won’t let me anymore.

§  Keep fit in both body and mind.

§  Keep building friendships and strengthening relationships.

§  Keep coaching and mentoring.

§  Keep my wife happy.

§  Keep my family close.

§  Serve others more often.

§  Think of my own needs less.

§  Stay faithful to my principals and beliefs.

§  Each and every day, strive to be a better person than I was the day before.

§  Keep listening to my God and following His instruction.

Sure, I could make a list of toys I want, trips to take, big ticket items to purchase, but I’d much rather think that life isn’t about all that.  Life to me is about living it the way God intended, with the gifts He’s given me.  He has blessed me to this point, why would I try and change course now?

A Common Man

I saw someone on the street corner the other day…..

A few weeks ago I drove to the grocery store that my wife and I frequent.  Standing on the corner of the main road and the cross section was a rather large, younger woman holding up a sign.  I couldn’t read the sign, but I could tell that she had a coat on, so I assumed she was warm, was wearing what appeared to be clean clothes, and the hair under her hat was combed.

I’m embarrassed to say it, but my first thought was, “It looks like she could skip a few meals rather than begging for one!”  I immediately felt bad for my instant judgment and took a closer look at her.

What I saw was an overweight but attractive young woman.  She didn’t seem proud to be standing there holding up a sign asking for help, but she didn’t appear to be smug about it either, as if to say that the world owed her something.  I thought to myself, “I’ve got everything in the world I need.  Why can’t she have the same?”

I ran into the store and headed down the aisles with my list in hand.  I’ll be the first to admit that I hardly ever stick to it.  My wife will send me with specific instructions and I usually find something else that we “really need” or I “really want!”  It’s nice to have the luxury for sure, but is it fair considering that there is a young woman standing on the street corner begging for food?

As I wandered through the store looking for things on the list I asked myself what a conversation would be like with her.  What would I ask?  How would she reply?  Would she be offended by my questions?  Would I feel inclined to help her once I knew her story?

Just down the way there is a Starbucks.  I imagined myself going up to her and asking if she’d like a warm cup of coffee or some hot cocoa.  Assuming she’d agree, I’d take her to the Starbucks, pay for her beverage and offer to buy her something to eat as well.  Once seated I would ask her name, find out where she’s from, find out if she had any family close by, tell her something about myself, and talk just about everything other than the obvious, “Why are you standing on the corner begging for food?  What brought you to this place in your life that you felt you had no other choice than to stand there with a crudely made sign asking for someone to give you something?”  Of course, my hope would be that as we talked the information would eventually come out, but then what?  What would I be willing to do about it?  Anything?  Would I feel obligated since I bought her coffee and listened to her story?  Would I feel responsible for her if I ever saw her again?

Perhaps that’s why I didn’t stop when I first noticed her.  Perhaps I saw the conversation fast forward in my mind and didn’t like the outcome.  Perhaps I chose to use the excuse, “Give to them and they never learn to take care of themselves.”

But I’m not like that.  I know I was created with a tender heart.  I feel terrible that she’s out there, in the cold, and I’m standing inside a fully stocked grocery story, able to afford just about whatever I chose to put in my cart.

So where do I go from here?  The next time I see her will I simply ignore her again?  Act like I don’t see her as she holds the sign a few feet from my truck?  Roll my window down and offer her a dollar, feeling like I just paid her rent for the month?  Or will I stop, ask her if she’d like a warm cup of coffee and try to get to know her a bit better? 

She’s God’s creation, no different from me.  I hope I’m a big enough man the next time I see her I would do more than immediately cast judgment.  I would help someone else would do the same for me.

A Common Man 

Hey Grandpa, Do You Have Time for a Few Questions?

If you're anything like me, you have always wondered what it would be like to sit down and have a conversation with someone that you've always admired.  Just the two of you, with no time limit and an endless number of questions to ask.

I've given it a great deal of thought recently on who that one person would be.  I can think of dozens of athletes I'd love to talk to.  Mickey Mantle comes to mind.  Satchel Paige would have a lot to say about his experiences here on earth.  Peyton Manning would be a fun conversation.  The great Muhammad Ali during his prime would have been a blast!

Many brilliant minds such as Einstein, Plato, Socrates or Edison would be intriguing to meet, although I doubt that I'd add much to the conversation.  Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln, Mahatma Gandhi or Nelson Mandela would be fascinating to meet and speak with.  No, if I had the chance to sit down and speak with a single person, ask as many questions as I liked and really pick his brain it would have to be with my grandfather.

I was 31 when my grandfather passed.  Yes, I did know him quite well and spent several summers with him and my grandmother when I was younger, but I never had the chance to talk with him man to man.  As my life has progressed I have thought of him often.  I would have loved to have had him close by so I could have sought his advice, or picked his brain when big decisions came up.  I would have asked him how he and his family survived the depression.  I would have been interested in learning more about his 11 brothers and sisters.  I would have told him how much I admired his intelligence, even though he never went to high school.  I would have asked him how he met my grandmother and how he knew that she was the one for him.  I'd have been interested in finding out what his he had hoped his life would become when he was a young man.  I would have asked him about his own ancestors, and what brought them to America.  I would have wanted to know how life was different for him at 30, 40, and 50 years of age compared to myself at those ages.  I would have asked him who he admired growing up, or who he wanted to be like.  I would have sought his advice on raising children and points of wisdom to pass on to my own grandchildren.

My grandfather was something special.  He always had a smile to give and his love was tender and genuine.  He didn't ask for much, but he gave of himself completely.  I miss him.  It's hard to believe that he's been gone so long.  As my children grow and have kids of their own, I hope I can inspire them the way my grandfather inspired me.  I hope they can look up to me and want to spend time getting to know me.

Life is a gift, and at times people come into our lives and give us more than we were would have every expected.  My grandfather was one of them for me.  I can't wait to reunite with him again and say, "Hey Grandpa, do you have time for a few questions?"

The Common Man

     

Airplane Dust...

My wife and I recently returned from a quick trip to see my parents for Thanksgiving.  The trip in of itself was great; it was the airline experience that always seems to be something less than desirable….

I like to fly.  I get geared up when it’s time to book a flight, pack my bags and head to the airport.  Fantasy seems to crash to reality as soon as I get to the airport.

First, there is checking of bags.  Most of us seem to be familiar enough with printing out our tickets ahead of time.  I even have an app that lets me hold on to my boarding pass on my phone!  It’s pretty cool to go through security and the gate with my phone as my boarding pass, let me tell you!  It’s not the boarding pass at the ticket counter that gets me, it’s checking the bags.  There is a 50lb limit on each bag; otherwise you have to pay an extra fee.  Most airlines now charge a fee just to check a bag.  I have a friend who recently told me the airline was charging him $20 to check a bag or $25 to carry one on!  Are you kidding me??

Next is the security line.  I’ve got my electronic boarding pass in hand, my bag has been checked, and I now get to stand in line so someone can verify I actually belong there!  Side topic…Have you ever noticed that the one who bypasses the normal security and head straight to the “Premier” line carry themselves with a bit more pious than the rest of us, or is it just me???  Oh well, I digress.  So here I am in the “cattle” line waiting for the TSA agent to check my boarding pass and ID against my actual face.  I’ve often wondered if I went for several tanning sessions, shaved my head and my goatee, and started wearing glasses, would they not let me in because I didn’t look like the picture on my driver’s license?  What if I gained a bunch of weight and my license says I weigh less than my actual weight (wait a minute; I already do that…never mind!)  I finally get to the head of the security line (why is it that I always seem to get behind the family of six with four kids that ALL need to have their tickets checked??) and the TSA agent looks at my electronic boarding pass, my ID, compares my face with the picture, clears me through and sends me to the next line.  I wonder what the TSA agent would do if I made a face when they held my ID up to me to compare the picture??  I’ve always wondered that….  Ok, so I’ve made it through the first layer of security.  Now comes the disassembly portion of air travel - pockets cleaned out, belt off, shoes off, laptop computer out, toiletries out…  I get everything loaded on to the conveyor belt so another TSA agent can look into my personal belongings just in case I packed something I shouldn’t have, such as more than 4 oz bottle of shampoo, etc.  Still another TSA agent waives me through the body scanner, tells me to raise my hands above my head, don’t breath (makes me feel like I’m getting an x-ray at the doctor’s office), then has me step out.  One more TSA agent pats me down because I failed to take my watch off, then finally lets me retrieve my belongings.  Here’s where the reassembly begins….I’ve take my belt, shoes, money, boarding pass, laptop, backpack, jacket, etc. and scurry to a bench so I can redress and repack.  Whew!  I’m finally through and I haven’t lost my cool yet!

Now it’s time to head to the gate.  I find another line for $10 coffee, pay it because they have me captive, and find my gate.  I look around for a place to sit, but of course one guys is taking up two seats (him and his bag), another is laying across three more, a third is yelling at her child to “Get over here, NOW!” and a fourth doesn’t look like they want company.  I finally find a place to sit on the floor and wait for them to board the plane.

“Welcome to Super Duper Airlines, flight XXX, with service to XXX.  We will begin general boarding soon; first we would like to offer early boarding for all our elite members and first class passengers.”  Now don’t lie, you know just as well as I do that you immediately begin to measure yourselves up with those “elite” travelers, don’t you?  Are their clothes any nicer?  Are they more attractive than me?  Do they even look “elite?”  What makes them more special than me?  Finally my boarding group is called.  It’s funny how defensive we get when someone “cuts” in front of us as we’re waiting to board the plane.  I’m just as guilty as the next guy, let me tell you!  I have to remind myself that the plane isn’t going anywhere until everyone has boarded, anyway.  I think it’s the race to get your bag (that you paid $25 extra dollars to carry on!) into an overhead bin that’s not already full.  Nothing’s worse than having to place your carry on in a bin that’s NOT directly above your seat!  What if I need something out of there during the flight?  What if someone mistakes my bag for theirs and carries it off the plane before I can retrieve it?  Oh, the anxiety is nearly too much to bear while in flight!

Ok, I’m on the plane and making my way to my seat.  I’m looking to see if the “double armrest guy” is sitting in the middle seat.  You know the guy; he’s the one that thinks he’s entitled to take up both armrests during the entire flight because he’s stuck in the middle.  I guess I’m that guy too whenever I get the middle seat…it’s just a rite of passage for all of those “middle seaters.”  I say hello and point to the window seat next to him.  He grunts and tries to make himself skinny while I contort myself into my seat.  The seat in front of me is literally an inch from my knees, my butt does it’s best to fit, and I try to settle in.  Until we take off I flip through the Super Duper Airlines Magazine and read about all the great places they go.  The pictures are glossy and photoshopped to enhance the attraction of going there.  At that moment the memories of baggage claim, security, the gate and boarding process is still fresh in my mind and I swear I will never fly anywhere again!  They can have their getaway, glossy photos and all!

Midway through the flight I realize that I probably shouldn’t have bought that $10 coffee before I got on the plane.  The middle guy is sleeping, the aisle guy is reading, and I’ve got to go!  I gently nudge middle guy, ask him if I can get out, get a glare from aisle guy, and slide by as I head to the back of the plane.  I don’t dare go to the front of the plane; oh no, that’s for first class passengers only!  I wonder if their bathroom is nicer than mine?  I stand in line once again, waiting for my turn in the bathroom.  Of course, I’m waiting for the kid who’s in their playing with the water.  He’s the same kid whose mother told him at the gate to “Get over here, NOW!”  I guess if I was him I’d probably lock myself in the bathroom for the duration of the flight too… He finally steps out and I say, “Hey little man, did you leave any water in there for me?”  He just stares blankly at me and reluctantly returns to his seat next to mom.

Finally, after what seems like an all day long flight, we are wheels down and getting ready to land.  Middle guy grips both armrests, aisle guy acts like he’s done this a million times, but I can see the fear in his eyes, and we touch down.  Cell phones are turned on, voicemails are retrieved, phone calls are made, and we slowly taxi our way to the gate.  What seems like an eternity to begin, people start deplaning.  Aisle guy is now standing in the aisle, middle guy is standing next to aisle guy, and I’m seated, watching to make sure that neither of them takes my carry on out of the bin!  I promise you both, I will get that mother over here and she’ll scream at you to “Put that bag down, NOW” if you do!  At last, I’m off the plane and walking to the terminal and baggage claim.  It’s time to get my $20 checked bag, flag down the car rental shuttle, retrieve my car and head to the hotel.  As I settle in I decide to shower off the “airplane dust,” as my wife refers to it, and try to muster the strength to do it all over again on my return trip home.

A Common Man

The Cat Lap...

I never grew up with cats.  I was a dog lover.  I had numerous dogs when I was growing up, but cats never struck me as a pet I wish I had.  Like most boys I was fascinated with all things crawling - turtles, frogs, toads, lizards, etc.  In fact, I even had a pet frog for about 10 minutes until I dropped a brick on him while I was “building” a home for him in the backyard.  Poor frog never had a chance with me as his owner!

Another reason why cats didn’t do much for me was my allergies to them - BIG time allergies!  I would sneeze, my eyes would water, and my throat would swell up….not a pretty sight!  I took allergy medicine when I was younger, but not to combat cats.  Cats just weren’t my thing.

Fast forward 40 years…I am now the proud owner of four, very different but unique cats.  So what happened?  Did I all of a sudden become a cat fan, or did my allergies mysteriously disappear??  On the contrary, I married into them!  My wife has always loved cats.  She grew up with them and couldn’t imagine living without them.  She had two when we got married.  Since then we’ve brought two more into our home.  Now don’t get me wrong, I’m still very much a dog guy…but cats have become a part of my pet owner mantra late in life.

Let me tell you about each of these obsessive, but loveable creatures of ours.  The first one is named Squirrel.  Squirrel is the only male, and struts around like he owns the place.  He has little to do with the other three cats.  He’s bigger, and he’s the only outdoor cat we allow to come and go as he pleases.  He always comes back - a bit beat up at times, but lays he head at our home each day and night.  Squirrel has a drooling problem as well.  He’ll come up to you, stick out one of his front paws  like he wants to shake your hand, then proceeds to drool all over as you pet him. 

Cat number two is Skyla.  We adopted Skyla a few years ago for our daughter.  Skyla is very skittish and doesn’t tolerate people, but for some reason has recently adopted my wife and me.  It probably has something to do with the fact that our daughter was adopted by a Puggle we brought home a couple of years ago, but that’s another blog for another day.  The stories I could tell you about that dog…….but I regress, this is about our cats.  Back to Skyla - she refuses to drink water from any other place than my bathroom sink.  Not my wife’s mind you, but mine!  She follows us into the bathroom, jumps up on the counter, and then expects us to turn the faucet on for her.  It doesn’t stop there either; Skyla wants to be petted, but only in our walk-in closet.  If you try and pet her anywhere else in the house besides the closet she runs away and looks at you as if to say, “What the heck are you thinking??”

Molly is our third cat.  My daughter and I adopted her for my wife a couple of years back to replace a cat she lost awhile back.  Molly’s name at the humane society was Lasagna, but who wants to be named that??  We changed it to Molly and it sticks with her.  Molly is fairly independent, but does love sitting in a lap.  She likes to be around where the action is, and if she had it her way she’d be hanging outside with Squirrel all day.  She sits at the back door and stares at what her life would be like outside the house.  Poor girl!

Kevyn is cat numero four.  How Kevyn got her name is somewhat unique.  When my wife brought her home about a year ago she immediately named “him” Kevin.  We all thought it was a cute name, so it stuck.  A few weeks later I took “Kevin” to the vet for “his” first checkup and shots.  It’s there that we discovered that “Kevin” was a “her.”  The vet said, “So what are you going to call her now?”  I said, “That’s easy, it’s now Kevyn with a Y!”  Everyone got a good laugh out of that, so it’s been Kevyn with a Y ever since.  Kevyn is most certainly a lap cat.  She will seek a lap of anyone sitting down.  She seems to be especially fond of my lap, for some reason, but she walks around the house just waiting for someone to sit down so she can take her rightful place in the lap.  Of course, when she’s not in a lap petting is completely off limits.  Like Skyla, you can only pet Kevyn on her terms!

So, about the cat lap…it belongs to me.  Being that I was never been a fan of cats or had a reason to own one, I now find that each of the four seem to prefer me over the others in the household.  At various times throughout the evening one or two of them will seek me out and promptly make themselves at home in my lap.  It doesn’t matter to them if I’m on the computer, reading a book or playing a video game, my lap is where they end up.

They say that dog owners don’t pick their dogs, dog pick their owners.  I’m beginning to believe that’s certainly the case with cats as well… J

A Common Man

It's the Little Things...

Through social media I learned that a former student of mine was going to be appearing on national television.  She had written an op-ed piece in the Wall Street Journal that caught the attention of the major news networks.  I found out the date and time she would be on and tuned in to watch.  I literally had chills when I saw her on my screen!  There she was, speaking with a prominent news anchor about a major social issue.  She carried herself very well, appeared confident and ready to take on all comers.  She wasn’t on for more than a couple of minutes; a segment of a half hour program, but she shined in those two minutes and made me proud to know her.  Her 15 minutes of fame will carry on.  She is corresponding with well-known political anchors and her story is gathering momentum as I write this.

This particular student was somewhat of a challenge to me when I had her as a high school student, but in a good way.  She carried herself a little different than the rest of her classmates, but this was purposeful.  She dressed a bit differently, she was a bit too loud at time, she laughed at most things that no one else seemed to find humor in, but she was unique – one of a kind.  There was something about her that told me she was going to be a success in life.  She went on to Princeton University after graduating from high school.  Not bad for someone who graduated with a class of no bigger than 50 seniors!  She moved on, found her purpose and is staying true to the course.

These are the students that stick in a teacher’s mind the most.  These are the ones that challenge us, but also make us proud when they’ve accomplished something extraordinary.  These are the little things in life that make me glad I had an opportunity to know her for a short while.  Thank you, Princeton grad!  Thank you for giving me a glimpse of who you’ve become and where you’re heading in the world!

A Common Man

The Holidays Cometh....Really?? So Soon??

I know I’m not the only one out there that notices holiday decorations begin showing up in stores immediately following Halloween this days. 

I walked into Costco not too long ago to pick up a couple of small items.  In the center of the warehouse were all the tree and yard decorations for Christmas.  Christmas music was playing in the background and I found myself wanting to tune it all out.  I entered a Walmart a short time later and discovered the same setup; decorations galore and Christmas carols echoing through the speakers around the store.

Now, I’m not a scrooge by any means.  Quite the opposite, I love the holidays!  I love decorating the house with lights inside and out, I love that my wife has a “baking weekend” with the girls in the December, I love creating Christmas music playlists on my iTunes account, I love listening to Christmas music 24/7 on my local radio station.  I love it all, but Christmas immediately following Halloween just doesn’t sit well with me.

I understand that all of the efforts for “Black Friday” events, and getting holiday goods in the hands of the consumers quicker are marketing efforts to get us to spend earlier and more often.  It doesn’t escape me that major holidays means big dollars for retail stores.  I suppose if I was the CEO of a major retail outlet like Costco or Walmart I’d be pushing the holiday product out to the consumers sooner rather than later as well, but come on…Christmas in October??  Really??

So how does a guy like me that loves the holidays but hates the hype deal with it all?  It’s pretty simple really, I creep into it!  Prior to December 1^st I do my best to avoid the Christmas aisles.  If my radio station starts up with the Christmas carols before Thanksgiving I find another station to listen to.  I refuse to pull the decorations down from the closets and garage rafters until Thanksgiving.  I restrain myself for creating my latest Christmas playlist until the spirit hits me to do so.  I glean through the store advertisements but not to buy, just get ideas.

I absolutely LOVE the holidays!  I’m a big kid in a grown man’s body on Christmas day!  I can’t wait to pass around gifts and open my own.  I love our Christmas breakfast where we’re still in our PJs and our hair is mussed up!  I love it all, but I truly find that the spirit of Christmas doesn’t quite hit me until we get closer to celebrating our Lord’s birth.  Don’t worry; I’ll get our Christmas cards out in time.  I’ll get my online purchases made with time to spare.  I’ll have that Christmas playlist blaring in the house at full blast before too long, but can I please wait until all the leafs have fallen, the skies get a bit darker earlier in the evening and the snow and fog start surrounding the mountain tops before I get too excited??  Please!!! J  

Happy Holidays to each of you!

A Common Man

And So it Begins....

I find it interesting that as I approach the later half of life I have this compulsion to start sharing more of myself, my thoughts, my faith, and my time by putting it into word.

It started a few months back when my step-son and his fiancé asked if I'd preside over their wedding vows.  I was honored, but not sure how to proceed.  I found out that becoming "ordained" to do such a thing is as simple as going online, paying a fee, and poof - now the power is vested in me.

My step-son shared with me that they wanted something quick and simple.  They didn't have anything planned, so it was up to me.  My future daughter-in-law did give me a basic format, but gave me the liberty to say something during the ceremony.  So it began....I wrote something that I thought would be personal enough to them, but understandable to everyone who attended.

The videographer who was filming the wedding really liked what I said.  She asked if I'd recite it again so she could dub it over the video she was putting together for the kids.  The videographer is extremely talented, and the video was amazing.  It still comes as a shock to me to hear my own voice dubbed over while watching the film of their wedding.

I thought about that experience and realized I'd never written anything like that for my wife.  I started to feel guilty and felt that I needed to write something for her that reflected my thoughts.  I was amazed at how quickly the words flowed out of me.  I envisioned her in every word that I put to paper.  The result was simply titled "You."

As like most of us, I have a Facebook account.  I use it to stay connected with family and friends, former students I've had the privilege of teaching and athletes I've coached over the years.  I posted "You" on my wife's Facebook timeline and was surprised at the positive comments she received from it.  From that point on I felt compelled to write two more (for lack of a better definition) poems and posted those as well.

Now, I really don't consider myself a poet by any stretch.  I never studied poetry, learned how to write it, or even cared much for it, to be perfectly honest.  What I did discover, however, was that I enjoyed putting pen to paper and writing about something that has touched me during my morning devotions, or thought that occurred to me, or a reflection in life that inspired me.

All of that has led me to this blog.  I consider myself a common man.  My family and I don't live extravagant lives.  We are a two income house with dogs and cats.  We live in a comfortable community with a mailbox down the road, schools close by and a park in our backyard.  We have a mortgage, car payments, and a little bit left over after every paycheck.  We dream of retiring in Maui some day and taking our daughter to Greece before she graduates from high school.  We have Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners with our large, extended family every holiday season.  I consider myself extremely blessed to have fathered two girls and become the step father of two others.

I'm a common man that has decided to create a blog.  As I progress down this new writing journey of mine, I looked to inspire and be inspired by those that wish to read it.

A Common Man