I played the board game Life with the kids on Thursday night.
At one point, Son #2 was driving around with his wife, who he named "Pink," and his two sons when he landed on the square announcing that he had a new grandchild. He was psyched.
Son #1 then asked, "Wait, how can you have a grandchild when your two boys have been stuck in the back seat this whole time?" followed by, "Oh no! Are you thinking what I'm thinking? About your wife?"
Good Lord. How can something so simple and otherwise family friendly go so horribly awry?
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
My Eulogy
I just went through the 3.5 years of this blog and deleted most of my work-related rants. Why? Partly because I'm very appreciative of this job (which is also well documented) but mainly because it's hurtful. And, while my readers are limited to a few friends and family, I don't want to be that person who intentionally or unintentionally hurts someone's feelings. It amounted to 13 posts over the past 46 months (i.e., roughly one per quarter). In hindsight, not too bad, after all.
The other morning I had coffee with a headhunter who bills himself as a connector. He wanted to meet with me to discuss a business idea he's hatching. Somehow in the course of our conversation, he asked what I wanted said about me during my eulogy. Nothing business-related, I assured him. (Man, could she produce. Have you seen her spreadsheets?)
The topic came up again later that same day when I had lunch with my favorite pastor. He said it's a topic in the bestseller and major snooze fest (my add), The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. To live a noteworthy life, you basically start with the end in mind. For example, he said that he hopes people will always recognize him as someone who truly cared for others. Nice.
But what's my end goal? The question keeps rolling and rolling around with the tumbleweed in my brain.
Yesterday, my mom and I went to my uncle's funeral. His eulogy was centered around his larger-than-life personality, ability to live life to its fullest and can-do personality. He focused his approach to life around a single question: Is it the right thing to do? and, if the answer was "yes," he would say, "then do it."
I have no such defining principles. Or, if I do, I'm not sure they're earmarked as mine and/or shared readily with others.
What would others say at my funeral? She was so busy, I barely saw her anymore? That probably would not be stated aloud. Maybe people would say that I'm nice. Or sometimes funny. A good mom. All of these are good things but they're not strong differentiators.
Who am I? More importantly, what positive mark should I be attempting to imprint on my children? I don't have the answer yet but I'm glad to be posing the question.
The other morning I had coffee with a headhunter who bills himself as a connector. He wanted to meet with me to discuss a business idea he's hatching. Somehow in the course of our conversation, he asked what I wanted said about me during my eulogy. Nothing business-related, I assured him. (Man, could she produce. Have you seen her spreadsheets?)
The topic came up again later that same day when I had lunch with my favorite pastor. He said it's a topic in the bestseller and major snooze fest (my add), The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. To live a noteworthy life, you basically start with the end in mind. For example, he said that he hopes people will always recognize him as someone who truly cared for others. Nice.
But what's my end goal? The question keeps rolling and rolling around with the tumbleweed in my brain.
Yesterday, my mom and I went to my uncle's funeral. His eulogy was centered around his larger-than-life personality, ability to live life to its fullest and can-do personality. He focused his approach to life around a single question: Is it the right thing to do? and, if the answer was "yes," he would say, "then do it."
I have no such defining principles. Or, if I do, I'm not sure they're earmarked as mine and/or shared readily with others.
What would others say at my funeral? She was so busy, I barely saw her anymore? That probably would not be stated aloud. Maybe people would say that I'm nice. Or sometimes funny. A good mom. All of these are good things but they're not strong differentiators.
Who am I? More importantly, what positive mark should I be attempting to imprint on my children? I don't have the answer yet but I'm glad to be posing the question.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Joy of Growing Old
I just had to pick this up from the newsstand over the holidays. Date stamped the week of my 46th birthday. Let life begin!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
My Life at a Glance
1) I have three hickeys. Kitten hickeys. Somehow, against all odds, we got another passion kitty like Stinkers. A face licking, lip sucking, up all night snuggling/purring, chest-not-lap cat. And the impassioned evidence is on my neck (for all my clients to wonder about silently).
2) I'm almost at my baby weight. What the . . . ? And I bought three pints of Ben & Jerry's over the weekend. Must stop the nonsense.
3) Recently I went through my closets to get rid of everything that a) doesn't fit and/or b) hasn't been in style for a gazillion years. I then took the newer, more expensive, still looking fresh clothes and shoes to Lu's Back Door, a local consignment shop. As I wandered around looking at a lot of the old clothes they had on their racks, I thought I had segmented my piles too stringently. Some of the stuff I was giving to Goodwill was much nicer than what they were selling. Lo and behold, when I went to leave, I noticed the majority of my clothes were put aside to be picked up. They wouldn't take most of my items! Brand new pants from Saks that are already too small. No thanks? I was astounded and said to the lady, "You don't want any of this?" and pointed to one of my suits saying, "This is an $800 suit." Her response, "No one buys black here." Seriously? But they buy faded sweaters from the Gap and worn out shoes? Go figure.
4) I went with my girlfriends to see a double-feature this past weekend (i.e., two, one-act plays) at the Black Sheep Theatre. The theater only seats 30 people (talk about intimate) so the action takes place right in your lap. Both plays were mystery thrillers which made for a strange intensity in a space that little. Pretty cool.
5) Son #2's class won honorable mention this year for the book they submitted to the Scholastic Kids Are Authors contest. Although his teacher won the Grand Prize last year and he was hoping for a repeat performance, I would say he's pretty proud of himself/his class regardless. It's very impressive and they put a lot of hard work into it. While most of the student-written comments on the board in their classroom say, "I learned that with teamwork, great things are possible," his quote says something pithy like, "I learned that it takes more than a month to write a really good book." True.
That's it.
2) I'm almost at my baby weight. What the . . . ? And I bought three pints of Ben & Jerry's over the weekend. Must stop the nonsense.
3) Recently I went through my closets to get rid of everything that a) doesn't fit and/or b) hasn't been in style for a gazillion years. I then took the newer, more expensive, still looking fresh clothes and shoes to Lu's Back Door, a local consignment shop. As I wandered around looking at a lot of the old clothes they had on their racks, I thought I had segmented my piles too stringently. Some of the stuff I was giving to Goodwill was much nicer than what they were selling. Lo and behold, when I went to leave, I noticed the majority of my clothes were put aside to be picked up. They wouldn't take most of my items! Brand new pants from Saks that are already too small. No thanks? I was astounded and said to the lady, "You don't want any of this?" and pointed to one of my suits saying, "This is an $800 suit." Her response, "No one buys black here." Seriously? But they buy faded sweaters from the Gap and worn out shoes? Go figure.
4) I went with my girlfriends to see a double-feature this past weekend (i.e., two, one-act plays) at the Black Sheep Theatre. The theater only seats 30 people (talk about intimate) so the action takes place right in your lap. Both plays were mystery thrillers which made for a strange intensity in a space that little. Pretty cool.
5) Son #2's class won honorable mention this year for the book they submitted to the Scholastic Kids Are Authors contest. Although his teacher won the Grand Prize last year and he was hoping for a repeat performance, I would say he's pretty proud of himself/his class regardless. It's very impressive and they put a lot of hard work into it. While most of the student-written comments on the board in their classroom say, "I learned that with teamwork, great things are possible," his quote says something pithy like, "I learned that it takes more than a month to write a really good book." True.
That's it.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
What a Surprise
Ended my fabulous week off with a bang. A rum punch to the head. Last night of vacation spent at Thirsty's with a bunch of out-of-town friends who came in for the weekend. The last day of vacation spent on couch. Floor. Bed. Couch. Bed. Bathtub. Bed. (Never again.) But it sure was fun while it lasted . . .
Sadly, it came directly on the heels of a wonderful, full day of meditation at the Rochester Zen Center. I should have quit while ahead.
Relax. Party. Crash.
Lather. Rinse. Don't repeat.
This week: sorting through 100+ resumes to interview for a local GM position. Attending meetings. And fielding calls from a million clients (okay, maybe four) who desperately need to talk to me as theirmanagement consultant shrink. "Yes, it will get better. I promise."
Today, sunny and warm. Yesterday, however, snow. Snow in Rochester? Wow, what a surprise. How quickly summer's over.
Sadly, it came directly on the heels of a wonderful, full day of meditation at the Rochester Zen Center. I should have quit while ahead.
Relax. Party. Crash.
Lather. Rinse. Don't repeat.
This week: sorting through 100+ resumes to interview for a local GM position. Attending meetings. And fielding calls from a million clients (okay, maybe four) who desperately need to talk to me as their
Today, sunny and warm. Yesterday, however, snow. Snow in Rochester? Wow, what a surprise. How quickly summer's over.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Life's a Dream
Sunshine. Highs in the upper 50s/low 60s. Beautiful sunsets. Heaven!
Early yesterday evening, as I crested the hill over Irondequoit Bay, there was steam rising over the thawing ice. If I ignored the dashboard of my Jetta (and the restaurant/marina down below), I could see for a split second the gorgeous view that the Native Americans must have cherished. Pale blue sky. Big cliffs. Snow covered lake. Golden cattails on the shore.
I wonder if they ever took it for granted.
Early yesterday evening, as I crested the hill over Irondequoit Bay, there was steam rising over the thawing ice. If I ignored the dashboard of my Jetta (and the restaurant/marina down below), I could see for a split second the gorgeous view that the Native Americans must have cherished. Pale blue sky. Big cliffs. Snow covered lake. Golden cattails on the shore.
I wonder if they ever took it for granted.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
A Life of Joy and Peace
My girlfriend's "Aunt Dolly" died last week. She wasn't just a peripheral figure, she played a major part in raising the entire family -- taking three of the four daughters into her home in the burbs when their section of the city became too wild and woolly to attend school safely. She also took in a million of their friends and/or random strangers (including traveling "hippies from CA") and gave them tea, dinner and a place to sleep as frequently, and as long, as needed.
Even at 96, she was the center of every party (as are her nieces, no surprise) and never, in the 20+ years that I've been friends with these women, have I been to one of their parties, or to a mutual friend's party, where Aunt Doll hasn't been present. Until Saturday afternoon, that is.
Fittingly, her eulogy on Saturday morning was, by far, the most wonderful tribute I have ever heard. I cannot do it justice here because I'm sure I'll get the wording wrong and obviously cannot replicate the voice/tone in which it was delivered but I have never laughed so hard at a funeral in my life or cried buckets of tears of happiness for a life well lived. She deserved the best.
The theme of her eulogy was that she was not cut from the same cloth as many of us. She didn't gossip, was not judgmental, always made room for friends and had a heart as big as Denver. Apparently she constantly broke out into song, too, which I never knew before but now wish I had. Simpatico! Her favorites? Amazing Grace (me too!) and Achy Breaky Heart (hey, she was old). She also loved, more than anything, to go to church. A woman after my own heart.
The best part of the tribute was when Anthony, my girlfriend's husband, said something akin to the following in his deep, oratorical voice. (Although his version was much better, I captured the essence, I hope.)
That's how life should be lived -- and how death should be celebrated. We'll miss you Aunt Doll.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
Even at 96, she was the center of every party (as are her nieces, no surprise) and never, in the 20+ years that I've been friends with these women, have I been to one of their parties, or to a mutual friend's party, where Aunt Doll hasn't been present. Until Saturday afternoon, that is.
Fittingly, her eulogy on Saturday morning was, by far, the most wonderful tribute I have ever heard. I cannot do it justice here because I'm sure I'll get the wording wrong and obviously cannot replicate the voice/tone in which it was delivered but I have never laughed so hard at a funeral in my life or cried buckets of tears of happiness for a life well lived. She deserved the best.
The theme of her eulogy was that she was not cut from the same cloth as many of us. She didn't gossip, was not judgmental, always made room for friends and had a heart as big as Denver. Apparently she constantly broke out into song, too, which I never knew before but now wish I had. Simpatico! Her favorites? Amazing Grace (me too!) and Achy Breaky Heart (hey, she was old). She also loved, more than anything, to go to church. A woman after my own heart.
The best part of the tribute was when Anthony, my girlfriend's husband, said something akin to the following in his deep, oratorical voice. (Although his version was much better, I captured the essence, I hope.)
"When the girls asked me to give the eulogy, I said, 'No problem; piece of cake.' I guarantee any one of you could come up here and say fabulous things about Aunt Dolly. But here's what's noteworthy: I bet not one of you could think of anything bad to say about her. Now that's something to celebrate! Think about that for a moment. Better yet, let's test the concept.That snippet only scratches the surface of what was said that day. What a fabulous send-off. And all true. I cannot think of one negative thing I could even dream to say or think about her.
We'll start with me. I'm sure there are those of you out there who would call me an accomplished man (Note: He's an M.D.). A spiritual man even. Others, on the other hand, might say I'm a pompous ass.
What about my lovely wife? Passionate personality; life of the party! Yes. But many of you might also say, 'loose cannon.'
My brother-in-law? You may call him an excellent multitasker who is able to accomplish more in one day than the rest of us in a week. I say 'classic case of ADD.'
How about Tom here? While some may say, 'Brilliant man. Well versed in many, diverse areas,' others would say, 'Unfettered hedonist.'
Now try it on Aunt Dolly. See? There's only one side of the equation: warm, happy, non-judgmental and loving."
That's how life should be lived -- and how death should be celebrated. We'll miss you Aunt Doll.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
Monday, October 26, 2009
H1NE1?
Son #1 was reading a library book last night on wizardry and decided to read my palm. Not that I believe in this stuff but my lifeline fades and splinters mid-palm for a good quarter of an inch, regains strength and continues until it reaches my wrist. Since I'm quickly rounding the age bend toward 45, I'm thinking I've gotta be entering the fractured, mid-palm stage of life right now.
And given that I've been sick with what I'm calling "the plague" for over five weeks and, once again, have tissues stuck up my nose today at work (i.e., stunningly gorgeous, as always), I'm thinking this is the beginning of the end. Or at least the beginning of the prolonged "life support season" of my apparently fragile-but-lengthy existence.
Thankfully with all of the (justified?) pandemic paranoia going around these days, my kids have really long, thick, lifelines. I just pray to God every night that they remain safe, healthy, happy and filled with wisdom to make the right choices in life -- especially if I'm no longer around as God continues thinning the herd.
On a related age note, we watched the Wanda Sykes HBO special over the weekend. She, too, is 45 years old and makes a few great jokes about her aging body (and her bulging midsection's demands for bread and alcohol). Sounds familiar. She even delivered the following zinger:
And given that I've been sick with what I'm calling "the plague" for over five weeks and, once again, have tissues stuck up my nose today at work (i.e., stunningly gorgeous, as always), I'm thinking this is the beginning of the end. Or at least the beginning of the prolonged "life support season" of my apparently fragile-but-lengthy existence.
Thankfully with all of the (justified?) pandemic paranoia going around these days, my kids have really long, thick, lifelines. I just pray to God every night that they remain safe, healthy, happy and filled with wisdom to make the right choices in life -- especially if I'm no longer around as God continues thinning the herd.
On a related age note, we watched the Wanda Sykes HBO special over the weekend. She, too, is 45 years old and makes a few great jokes about her aging body (and her bulging midsection's demands for bread and alcohol). Sounds familiar. She even delivered the following zinger:
“I used to pack an extra pair of panties in case I got lucky. Now I pack an extra pair in case I sneeze.”Afterward, she dropped to the floor pretending that she had a Kegel-induced charlie horse. If only it wasn't so funny . . .
Friday, April 17, 2009
Me Jane
I went out for dinner and a mai tai the other night with a girlfriend from my old neighborhood who I haven't really spent any time with in almost 30 years (yikes!). Her status update on Facebook later that night said, "Enjoyed reconnecting with my past ~ and hopefully enriching my future."
She must have stopped by the library on her way home . . . ?
Speaking of enrichment, I met up with the hubby and kids after work at B&N last night. Son #2 wanted to see Peter Brown, the author and illustrator of Chowder, who had also spoken at their school earlier in the week. Afterward, the kid was racing around desperate to buy yet another book.
Note: We have millions of books. We visit the library weekly. And we place orders with Scholastic Books through the school (which annoys me: do my kids really need to go shopping at school? answer: yes, apparently). It just never ends.
Last night, Son #2 was looking for the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series that he's enamored with lately and came across a shelf with just a handful of copies of those we've already read. His face registered disappointment. A moment later, he spotted another entire shelving unit filled to the brim with the series and ran over. Upon seeing it, I said, "Whoa, there are tons of them here" to which he responded, with more sarcasm than I would have thought possible for a seven year old, "Uh, yeah, it's a BOOKSTORE."
Duh.
She must have stopped by the library on her way home . . . ?
Speaking of enrichment, I met up with the hubby and kids after work at B&N last night. Son #2 wanted to see Peter Brown, the author and illustrator of Chowder, who had also spoken at their school earlier in the week. Afterward, the kid was racing around desperate to buy yet another book.
Note: We have millions of books. We visit the library weekly. And we place orders with Scholastic Books through the school (which annoys me: do my kids really need to go shopping at school? answer: yes, apparently). It just never ends.
Last night, Son #2 was looking for the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series that he's enamored with lately and came across a shelf with just a handful of copies of those we've already read. His face registered disappointment. A moment later, he spotted another entire shelving unit filled to the brim with the series and ran over. Upon seeing it, I said, "Whoa, there are tons of them here" to which he responded, with more sarcasm than I would have thought possible for a seven year old, "Uh, yeah, it's a BOOKSTORE."
Duh.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Just Waiting on a Friend
There's a girl standing on the corner of East and University with a handwritten sign asking for money. She's wearing jeans, Converse sneakers, a knee-length black raincoat, big black sunglasses and a cute little black and white polka dotted kerchief/doo-rag.
She reminds me of me somehow. Pre-suits. Pre-kids. Or maybe just the weekend version of myself (sans sign).
I want to pull over and ask her what happened in her life. Simply down on her luck? Drug addiction? MBA loans too much to handle? Former AIG employee?
I also wonder if her parents are alive. They would probably be heartbroken to see her. I'm heartbroken to see her.
She reminds me of me somehow. Pre-suits. Pre-kids. Or maybe just the weekend version of myself (sans sign).
I want to pull over and ask her what happened in her life. Simply down on her luck? Drug addiction? MBA loans too much to handle? Former AIG employee?
I also wonder if her parents are alive. They would probably be heartbroken to see her. I'm heartbroken to see her.
Friday, January 9, 2009
What Punctuation Mark Are You?
| You Are a Comma |
 You are open minded and extremely optimistic. You enjoy almost all facets of life. You can find the good in almost anything. You keep yourself busy with tons of friends, activities, and interests. You find it hard to turn down an opportunity, even if you are pressed for time. Your friends find you fascinating, charming, and easy to talk to. (But with so many competing interests, you friends do feel like you hardly have time for them.) You excel in: Inspiring people You get along best with: The Question Mark |
Monday, September 22, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Life is Good
Three visits from the Tooth Fairy in one week for Son #2. (So darned cute right now until those big honkers start growing in and he no longer looks like a sweet, little kid.)
Son #1 earned a yellow belt in karate last night. Yeah!
I had an Abbott's chocolate custard turtle for lunch while stopping, briefly, to enjoy the sunshine at the beach in Durand Eastman Park.
Hubby planted little flowers in our front "garden" yesterday.
All is well.
Son #1 earned a yellow belt in karate last night. Yeah!
I had an Abbott's chocolate custard turtle for lunch while stopping, briefly, to enjoy the sunshine at the beach in Durand Eastman Park.
Hubby planted little flowers in our front "garden" yesterday.
All is well.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Lighten up Francis
I was telling my nephew last week, who after his freshman year in college has not yet firmly decided on his primary course of study, not to sweat it. Why add so much pressure to "get it right" when you're young given that life -- in and out of school -- is a path of learning?
When I was a senior in college and graduating with the presumably useless B.A. in English, I called my mom weeping. I was grappling with some serious angst about my inability to define myself when my girlfriends were going off to medical school or jobs as graphic designers and engineers. "What am I going to do with my life?" I sobbed.
Her response, "Don't worry about it. I'm 50 and I still have no idea what I want to do either."
Although it may sound dismissive, they were the most loving and accepting words I had ever heard. And they immediately took the pressure off; I didn't need to have clarity right then and there.
What I didn't realize until much later was the profound nature of my mom's statement either. That 22 years later (and probably for the rest of my life) I would still be in the process of defining myself, trying to determine what talents I have been given (!) and searching for answers regarding what's next.
Right now, I feel confident that I am exactly where I need to be. And instead of forging my way into the next experience blindly and later assessing the collateral damage, I'm waiting for divine inspiration (intervention?) to guide my way.
You never know what God has up his sleeve. I'll probably become America's Next Top Model.
When I was a senior in college and graduating with the presumably useless B.A. in English, I called my mom weeping. I was grappling with some serious angst about my inability to define myself when my girlfriends were going off to medical school or jobs as graphic designers and engineers. "What am I going to do with my life?" I sobbed.
Her response, "Don't worry about it. I'm 50 and I still have no idea what I want to do either."
Although it may sound dismissive, they were the most loving and accepting words I had ever heard. And they immediately took the pressure off; I didn't need to have clarity right then and there.
What I didn't realize until much later was the profound nature of my mom's statement either. That 22 years later (and probably for the rest of my life) I would still be in the process of defining myself, trying to determine what talents I have been given (!) and searching for answers regarding what's next.
Right now, I feel confident that I am exactly where I need to be. And instead of forging my way into the next experience blindly and later assessing the collateral damage, I'm waiting for divine inspiration (intervention?) to guide my way.
You never know what God has up his sleeve. I'll probably become America's Next Top Model.
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