Father's Day 2018

Today is Father's Day, 2018. There will be several thousand blog posts about the over 70 million fathers in 'Merica today, and society will click away likes and smiley faces, as a testament to fathers everywhere. They should. Father's are critical components of society. My father, who passed away earlier this year from cancer, would have enjoyed peering through his cheaters at his phone, looking at a photo like this one my sister took, and smiling. Life is not normally continuously caught on camera, so those special moments when we straighten our backs and tug tight our sweaters for a snapshot of history, can be special memories for Dads and Granddads.

The impact of a father, cannot be measured in likes and smiley faces though. There are some better numbers to measure impact.

According to their website, The National Fatherhood Initiative, the US's leading non profit working to end father absence, a few sobering statistics about the impact of a father. Over 24 million children in the US, or 1 in 3 kids live without their father in their home. These children:

Are 2 times more likely to drop out of high school
Are 2 times more likely to face obesity
Are 4 times more likely to be in poverty
Are 2 times more likely to die as an infant
Are 7 times more likely to become pregnant as teens

A large part of fatherhood is just showing up

Showing up sounds easy. 24 million children in the US tell a different unspoken story. Showing up requires love, patience, and effort. There is effort required to be there, often times when other activities demand your time. There is patience needed to overcome frustrations when you are there. And ultimately, there is a significant amount of love needed to make the patience and effort possible. Today I am grateful for the love, patience, and effort my father and step father had. They both showed up in their own ways, and they both did what they believed to be right.

While it is sad that my father has passed away this year, and Father's Day 2018 will be the first for my family without his infectious smile and gregarious laugh, I take consolation in the fact that he would expect nothing less than that as a father, I show up, and do what I believe to be right. There are many father's who do the same every day, not only those that do it for their own children, but men who step in and show up for the children of others. This takes a big heart, and a significant amount more of love, patience, and effort.

This morning I got 2 small hugs, a couple of hand written cards, lots of I love u's, some cute notes about why I'm loved, and some terrible handwriting that when deciphered, made me tear up a little. If I were to summarize what I got out of the morning, it was "Thanks for showing up and doing what you think is right"

To every father and step father who didn't get that message this morning.

Thanks for showing up and doing what you think is right. Happy Father's Day

bvd

What do you get when you cross a candy cane, a pipe cleaner, and a pair of googly eyes?

What do you get when you combine children, 60 candy canes, 60 brown pipe cleaners, and 60 pairs of googly eyes?

I was traveling for almost 2 weeks for work and my first public speaking engagement, and returned home to an opportunity to attend a field trip with my 2nd grade daughter. I've always been extremely grateful and pleased with the opportunities to learn gratitude, humility, and how to connect with others that her school provides regularly, however, I am not sure I fully understood how critical these life skills are. Muhammad Ali once said, "Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth". I don't want my daughter to break the old lease of life, and certainly wouldn't want her to do so before I'm no longer the co-signer on said lease... "Life is about people, we are here to connect." I heard this in the advertisement for a Will Smith movie, seems legit. In the world of business leadership, emotional intelligence has been credited by many as a measure of future success, and is defined in psychology today as, "skill in perceiving, understanding, and managing emotions and feelings".

A few minutes after jumping on the yellow school bus, dutifully finding sticky gum under my seat in the only section I placed my hand, and sitting in the way back of the yellow beast so as to fully test the suspension with my back, we arrived at an assisted living facility near the school. A gaggle of 2nd graders and their 7th grade assigned buddies piled into the center through the front door, packing cheek tiring smiles, candy cane reindeer, and hours of practice in carrying a conversation with the most senior of AARP members. Had their been a professional certification for these conversations, I'd guess these children would have all achieved high marks. Perhaps hours of practice with their own elders, the teacher led practice in school, and years of family induced cheek pinching, pictures, and fruit cakes had already prepared them for this moment. They were extremely comfortable and on a mission to connect. Every group of kids was broken into 3 or 4, and names were assigned of the residents who needed a visit.

My daughter and her two 7th grade buddies went to Bernice's room. It was beautifully decorated with a wreath on the door, smelled of cookies and pine from the wreath or the small tree on her nightstand, and the sweet tooth she told us she had. Bernice had a wonderful smile, was vibrant and happy, and was extremely grateful to have visitors this deep into her 90's. Bernice was a hoot. She proceeded to share with us some of the memories she cherished. The children dutifully asked questions to lead the discussion, and intently listened to Bernice recall the names of her family members who's photos were placed with gentle hands around her mirror next to her favorite rocking chair, and they patiently watched as she pointed and paused at several images who's name escaped her for a brief moment. The conversation bounced from stories of her childhood, the crucifix at the center of her wall, to gratitude for the visit, to discussion of the reindeer candy cane's googly eyes. My favorite part of the conversation was a brief moment when Bernice was struggling to remember our names and the names of several others in her photos. She paused on one of her pictures after furrowing her brow in mild frustration, she chose instead to smile, and then proudly declared, "I can't remember his name, my memory is a little squirrel, but I love all of them and you for coming to visit"

We found something special in our attempt to find the next room. As we walked down a hallway, we could hear singing. The kids smiled and moved confidently forward to find the noise. We emerged into a sitting area, and saw roughly 15 residents of varying degrees of engagement, singing silent night while one staff member led the group in prayer. The children could barely wait until the prayer was over to pass out their candy canes, Merry Christmas, and smiles. It was quite moving to see the residents interact and become excited to receive the attention of the kids for that brief moment.

I often wonder, if we taught children humility and gratitude in the same quantity and with the same fervor we teach them English, wouldn't we communicate with each other a lot better?

Bernice had migrated from her room and was in the lobby as we passed by, she did not stop wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and waving her reindeer at us. As we got on the bus, I heard stories of some of the residents sharing tears of joy with their visitors, and I couldn't forget the smiling eyes of everyone we met and the connections that were made.

So back to the question:

What do you get when you combine children, 60 candy canes, 60 brown pipe cleaners, and 60 pairs of googly eyes?

You get a little emotional intelligence training and you give a little light

Merry Christmas

Here is hoping you get or give your own candy cane reindeer this season,

bvd

It's a winter wonderland

All yesterday evening, the news peppered Wisconsinites with bluster and fear of the impending snowstorm we received yesterday evening and will be continuing most of today. The weatherman on our favorite station was accurate, I have to give him credit, but he had a less than hidden dose of excitement coming through his eyes. It was a bit too much eagerness. I often wonder like an athlete preparing for a big match, if weatherman get psyched up for impactful weather events? Do you think they sit in mirrors doing tongue twisters about clouds while their producers coach them on how they can be better than the opposing weatherman on the other station? I can picture a grizzled veteran producer with coffee in his veins giving the talent the pep talk, "You got this Don, Ted on channel 6 defaults to polar vortex when the snowfall is over 6" and we all know the viewers like to hear about La Nina. Make me proud Don, win one for the Gifford tonight."

Weather prep was so intense, the Power Rangers cartoon was interrupted this morning, and you don't interrupt Power Rangers for anything unless it's more serious than their commercials for light up shoes and legos that shoot things. Wisconsin did not receive as much snow as some states, Ohio I heard received 30" in some places, and we all know Buffalo is giggling at the "light dusting" they consider 30" of snow to be. Fun fact, anything over 12" and you should suggest your maintenance department verify the structural integrity of your commercial flat roof at work, wouldn't want any snow falling on your heads while you shop Amazon during work hours the next few weeks.

As I prepare this morning to go outside and shovel, I get mildly excited learning that it's clearly light and fluffy, knowing less ibuprofen will be needed post shoveling for back soreness. However, it's how my daughters reacted to seeing the snow this morning that reminds me why it's critical for me to do my best not to screw up how my children already are, instead of trying my best to make them more like me.

My oldest awoke at 4:30 am because she was excited. When I was awoken at 6:00am, she let me know it was snowing outside, with a gigantic smile, kinda like the weatherman from the night before. When I finally rolled out of bed to get coffee, she rushed me to the window and squealed, "Dad, it's a winter wonderland outside!"

Like the weatherman who can't wait to get up and tell you about something they enjoy doing, I am reminded of the pure enjoyment children bring to new experiences, and how infectious that can be. After a 12 year run of having the same fake tree, my girls convinced us that we needed a real tree. So before the mini blizzard, we chose to secure our tree. Our experience yesterday morning to grab ours before the snow came was a little more work than plugging in the Ole Plastic Tree, however, the trip itself has become tradition. We now "cut your own", and found a nice sustainable tree farm which made the experience fun, with warm apple cider, a couple of kids who throw it on the roof of your car for you, and not too far a drive. Both girls carried the saw and the plastic tarp for dragging the cut tree with glee, excited to participate in choosing the arbor.

Dragging a tree half a mile back from cutting it to the car is not the first thing I'd choose to do, however, my children approached this experience like Al Roker approaches a storm front. Eagerly grabbing the rope, with their tiny gloved hands, and yanking until they couldn't drag it any further.

It's a lesson I hope to keep learning. Life is a winter wonderland, you just need to look at it through a joyful lens and get excited about doing rather than complaining. Merry Winter Wonderland my friends!


bvd

Dolphinette

In a survey of over 57,000 respondents in August of 2016, people were asked to choose the best Olympic summer sport. It was indisputable that volleyball was ranked 1st and dead last was "equestrian events". As a volleyball coach, I clearly understood why volleyball won, and to this day firmly believe that the instant transition in the sport from offense to defense has no equal. I also know, had the census been fair, the survey would have asked horses how they felt. Clearly, had some of the equines voted, equestrian events would have finished higher than last, even if they failed to get out the Pony vote. I won't go into the negative aspects of the blatant species-ism of this survey here, the country is still trying to heal. So it leaves me with no choice but to declare the second to last place finisher as the true worst sport in the Olympics according to this clearly species biased survey. The worst summer Olympic sport is therefore: Synchronized Swimming. I linked to the article because as we know, everything on Facebook is true.

While I may get some hate mail from this blog, I am looking forward to receiving beautifully decorated envelopes and cards piled in my mailbox in both a choreographed arrangement and exceptionally timed arrival.

Somewhere in a likely sweatshop in Arkansas, a screen printer who clearly lacks self respect, has chosen money over pride, and decided to print the shirt in this image above. First, the word, Dolphinette is not a Webster's recognized word. In other words, don't try it in scrabble. The picture of this female dolphin looks more like a pissed off Narwhale missing it's horn. I'd be mad too if I was forced to rotate upside down in the water with my toes pointed and my nose pinched shut to avoid water entry. I think we all can agree that water should only enter one orifice, and that's only when you are thirsty.

So my wife, in an effort to punish me for everything I've ever done wrong, has signed our oldest up for synchronized swimming and purchased this shirt for me. As I write this, I'm wearing it in a car on a 2 hour drive to a synchronized swimming meet listening to Christmas music while it's snowing outside. If that isn't waterboarding, I don't know what is.

My daughter got a 6th place ribbon at the last meet. I've never seen a 6th place ribbon in my life until that day. Why not 7th, did the Russian judge get bribed?

All kidding aside, I'm just going to shut up, golf clap when the rest of the parents do, and smile and ask my daughter if she had fun at this physical activity when it's over. There is a beauty to watching your child do something they like, even if that involves nose plugs and oysters (my daughter's favorite move)

I just passed a farm and saw several horses smiling. We were driving pretty slow, and I thought I saw one of them mouth the words, "Ed you won't believe what I just read, some guy had a shirt on that said proud..." The horses are laughing, man card revoked.

Enjoy

bvd

Teen Relativity

My oldest daughter celebrated her birthday earlier this month, turning 8 years old. I attached a 3 generation photo from dinner at the hibachi restaurant which helps explain why my children are blond, and clearly indicates that I got the shaft in the old gene pool of flowing manes. For reference, prior to obtaining my currently overcooked burnt popcorn color and more hair on my chest than my head, I formerly basked in the golden glow of a 90's bowl cut and had aspirations of growing a pony or a man bun. Shattered dreams pave the road of the follicular challenged.

Incidentally, in dog years where you multiply the age of your dog by a multiplier like the commonly believed but incorrect 7, to give you the equivalent in human years, you are able to gauge the maturity level of your canine friend fairly accurately. If you are interested in learning more about this, here is a link to an article describing where the myth originated and the information from the study. The oldest recorded living dog, Max, a terrier dachshund beagle mix, made it to almost 30 human years before deciding to head to the big doghouse in the sky. The study generated evidence suggesting that dogs age quickly in year 1, then subsequently their aging slows, and varies widely depending on breed and sizeTurns out as an example, a Schnauzer at the age of 1 human year, has the equivalent maturity of a 14.6 year old in "dog years"

I am sure this study done in the 50's, given inflation, would cost many millions to perform in today's dollars, and I have decided, as a dad with daughters, that there needs to be an investment to understand a different age to maturity ratio, that will help fathers everywhere.

Why does it seem all ages equal 14 for your own daughters?

Having just turned 8, every time I see her smile and hop into her booster seat, I picture having to drive a 14 year old to a middle school dance in my dad car hoping that it's winter so she is bundled up in a snowsuit and long underwear for the evening.

Every time she fails to listen to her mother, I picture the selective hearing of a 14 year old teen deciding that an eventual electronic takes precedence over her matriarch while her father prepares to intervene before another remake of "Clash of the Titans" occurs in my home. We all know sequels rarely ever turn out better.

When I get to listen to my 8 year old explain why she verbally lashed at her younger sister for being in her room and taking her toys, it's natural for me to imagine a 14 year old ripping a dress from her cat burglar of a younger sister who managed to extrapolate the one dress her sister would notice was missing, from a closet that couldn't fit a loose sheet of paper it was stuffed so full of garments already.

I'm resigned to the fact that this won't likely change, and the anecdotal evidence suggests that as she ages, my viewing lens won't alter much.

I've surmised when I see her at 18 or 20 studying for an exam, my default will be memories of lazy Saturday mornings reading together on the couch, perhaps picturing her reading Lord of the Flies or Catcher in the Rye 

When she calls someday at 25 to talk about someone she met who melted her heart, Ill think back to some whispering conversation from the kitchen between a 14 year old and her mom, about a crush her dad wasn't supposed to hear about from the living room, but that her little sister was all so proud to document with some recording app on her phone and playback loudly while running around the house with her sister chasing her.

When she visits for a Christmas with her new family, and I see her slide her broccoli to the side of her plate, covered smoothly with some uneaten mashed potatoes and wink at me. I'll picture my 14 year old who used to wink with both eyes and a wide open mouth, to let me know she and I were operating on the same wave length.

I look forward to doing my own study on this theory of teen relativity. I have a feeling in the immortal words of Randy Bachman of Bachman Turner Overdrive, "You ain't seen nothing yet...."

Enjoy!

bvd

Shalom My Friends

Went for a walk with my girls at a local wildlife sanctuary called Shalom a little while back, and I grabbed some photos while we were there. I was sitting on this blog for a few weeks, and after a long week of watching a number of my friends deal with the stress of trying to find club volleyball teams for their daughters to play on while other friends try to make these teams from groups of individuals and parents, it felt right to write.

Shalom is a Hebrew greeting meaning "Peace" or "Harmony" according to the Oxford Dictionary. Apparently the Oxford folks got the definition of Shalom correct. Having been burned by the Yiddish meaning of the word "Schmuck" once after using it in a discussion with a Jewish friend who kindly enlightened me, I learned to verify with multiple sources before attempting to use a word from another culture or religion of which I have very little knowledge. I therefore triple checked to make sure Oxford was correct on Shalom.

What struck me about Shalom Sanctuary was how well they communicated their values. Start to finish pulling in to leaving, there was no doubt about what they believed, and how they planned to share the meaning of their name. Here is a link to their site if you care to explore or you happen to be in West Bend Wisconsin in the future and decide to visit; Shalom Wildlife Sanctuary.

The Shalom sanctuary is nestled in a rural area, well off the freeway in southeastern Wisconsin. It has gorgeous paths through a beautiful wooded forest, surrounded by large open roaming areas for unique wildlife. Herds of endangered albino deer, elk, white tail, buffalo, camels, and more roam in an open format like Jurassic Park without the computer generated terror. The interaction with the wildlife there involves viewing and feeding the animals as you casually stroll around the several mile trail. You purchase stale corn in a large white bucket, and must earn the trust of the hoofed creatures roaming the pastures to get to feed them up close. It's kinda like the brilliant family dog who hears the freezer open and comes running to greet the 3 year old. The dog knows he is going to get his ears tugged and some weird looks, but he likes his odds that he will get to lick the ice cream cone before it hurts. There was a very tranquil silence as we walked through the woods, and the animals went about their ways in a relaxed and peaceful pace.

Shalom had signs placed throughout the trail, and one in particular caught my eye and made me stop for the photo above.

Ego vs Eco

I immediately began to think of all the successful people I have been blessed to meet, all the successful families that pop in and out of my life, all of the successful businesses I've seen or been a part of, and of course sports teams I've watched or been a part of. My head went to teams I've coached where the entire season was spent trying to obtain Eco together, and eliminate Ego. I could substitute people in place of the animals in the Ego image, and pretty well sum up most of the BS happening in the world these days. It felt relatively obvious, and yet most days, it's difficult to see the forest through the trees.

As I watched my girls bound to the next herbivore and prayed they wouldn't get hoof and mouth disease or trampled by an elk who realized the chicken wire can't stop a chicken, I took pleasure in knowing that there are signs like this in our everyday lives telling us to stop and think about what our needs or wants do to others. Many are not as blatant as this, and might show up in the form of someone helping you unexpectedly or achievements you can look back on where a teams needs took precedence above your own wants, and something special was achieved. I kept thinking about the times people did things for my daughters they didn't have to, and were completely selfless.

I wondered how best to communicate this concept to my girls, and make sure they grew up to see the value in Eco over Ego, not in the hug a tree eat grape nuts and granola sense, but in a little more complete picture on the effect we have on other people. I'm pretty sure I'll screw this one up, but I now know I can take my kids to a cool wildlife sanctuary, buy them a bucket of corn and make them read the sign every time we go there...at least until the elk figure out the mother load of corn is on the other side of the chicken wire that can't stop a chicken.

Cheers to kicking over whatever chicken wire might be holding us back from seeing the signs

Enjoy!

bvd

The maple tree in my yard is still there

First, thank you. My blog passed over 1,000 readers per month, even after I took a 2.5 week sabbatical. Why is that important? It's not, other than I feel I don't say thank you enough for the little things, and that doing so might make the world a little better place. I've never seen someone accept a thank you tossed their way with an angry face, so I've got that going for me.

Over the past several weeks, autumn twinkle-toed in gracefully like a well choreographed ballet followed by a Nov 8th prime time bout that many thought resembled the shock that the world had when Tyson bit Holyfield's ear off on national television.

I learned:

The maple tree in my yard is still there

Fall in Wisconsin is beautiful, and in particular, this fall has been filled with exceptionally nice weather. As a well insulated individual, the autumn in Wisconsin is quite a wonderful time to accessorize my wardrobe. I've found that a nice 60 degree day is perfect weather to put on crocs with socks or wear a sweater vest, you know, for those certain days where your chest might be cold but your guns are hot and need a little air.

I was wearing my sweater vest, and decided to rake leaves after work. The maple tree in our front yard was planted almost 17 years ago, and has done well. This particular afternoon, it had shed most of it's leaves and the kids were anxious to help create some fun. I dutifully raked and my girls excitedly jumped in to the pile. Every time the season changes, I'm reminded that the maple tree in my yard is still there.

While wearing a sweatshirt outside with shorts and sandals, I had to rake again a few days later as more leaves fell. This time, my daughter decided she wanted to climb the tree and read a book in the crook of the lowest branch. Odd, but creative, I obliged with a boost, and continued raking leaves. A few minutes later, I snapped a picture of her reading in her branch engrossed in a story about dolphins or such, and I was reminded that the maple tree in my yard is still there.

After I helped her down from the tree, she and her mother told me my daughter was worried that her birthday, on November 9th, would be ruined by the fact that 1/2 the country would be in a bad mood the day after the election, no matter who won. I gave that some thought, and tried to remember some of the things that I knew had not changed every time there was a change in presidents, and I was reminded, that the maple tree in my yard was still there.

One of my favorite books as a kid was "The Giving Tree" by Shel Silverstein. If you haven't read it in a while, it's a quick read. I clearly failed to understand the symbolism of the book as a child, as I probably dreamed about eating the apples the tree handed off and getting to wear a sweater vest when I was more insulated. As an adult, the meaning has changed a bit for me, and as I saw the book in our house the other day, I thought about how it applied to my girls and me.

Clearly, the unconditional love the tree had for the child most parents can relate to. On the flip side, it could symbolize an example of a horribly toxic co-dependent relationship, I have no clue what Shel's life was like and what kind of partying he was into.

Clearly, one could look at the tree like we see many of the most wonderful people we have all likely met in each of our lives, those that give what they can afford to, expect nothing in return, and always find happiness. We can look at the boy as those that always take more and always live unsatisfied. However, after the sadness and depression that many of my friends and family felt Wednesday morning, in comparison to the satisfaction (not joy) the other half of my friends and family felt for the election outcome, I'd offer up another takeaway that I relayed to my daughter when she worried that half of America would be sad on her birthday, regardless of who won;

There are still people who give what they can afford and expect nothing, and there will always be people who take and will never be satisfied, whether it is a gaggle of donkeys or a herd of elephants prancing about Washington. This doesn't change what kind of person you choose to be to others.

I'm reminded today, the maple tree is still in my yard, and every morning I get to choose to be the tree or the boy

Enjoy

bvd