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