Our Dad

Expectations for fathers have evolved over the decades. In some cultures, it’s still common for children to only know their dad as the guy who is married to mom and goes to work so they can afford everything they have and will have. One of my good fortunes in life is having a father that worked very hard but was also present. Till our late teen years he worked multiple jobs, even running his own lawn care service for ten years. And yes, that meant he was my very first boss.

Although we didn’t see him much due to those jobs, his love for my sister and me wasn’t ever in question. Perhaps it was instilled in each of us when he gave each of us our first bath after we were born and home from the hospital. During our youth, my sister and I would usually bargain with him if mom said no, because we knew he was a softy and hated to dash our little dreams. When discipline was needed instead of the fun we wanted to have, and knew deep down that mom was right, we still went to dad anyway to at least have a yes in some fashion, even when mom stuck to her convictions.

When he wasn't working or sleeping, he was the one of the goofiest people I've ever known, hamming it up with anyone who would participate. When in public, he'd never shy to talk to anyone. It was often an annoyance to me when I'd want to get home as quick as possible to play video games, but it left a mark on me that connecting with people matters more than anything in life.

Our dad was born and raised in a household that was sustained by his parents’ farm and gardens. Working hard from dawn till dusk was the only option for the family to survive and thrive, instilling a strong work ethic in him and his siblings that continues to this day for them all. His dad was his first boss too and set the example I was privileged to be a recipient of.

Soon after I was born, he settled into what became his primary job that had him working third shift till I was fifteen years old. He was, and still is, someone who sleeps until he absolutely has to get up and ready to go anywhere. When my sister and I were growing up, we’d hear his alarm go off and he’d hit the snooze button. Back then we didn’t know much about the consequences of being late to work, except it would upset our mother. So, we took it upon ourselves when we heard the alarm to push dad out of bed so he wouldn’t be late! There were days where he wanted to sleep in and wasn’t thrilled about being pushed out of bed, but those were few and far between. Shoving dad out of bed became a fun ritual where he’d pretend to be sleeping and make it harder for us to get him out. He couldn’t stifle his laughter very well and his distinct chuckle always gave away his possum-playing intentions.

When I started working for him, I couldn’t wait to have my own money to buy my own things. I was 12 years old and craved independence and autonomy above my youth, and money was one way of achieving that goal. I didn’t really have much discipline at the time, but I learned the difference between doing something when it needed to be done versus doing it when I felt like it. During the school year I couldn’t wait to get out so I could cut grass. I was already spending the money I didn’t have yet, and I wanted to work more to get more things. What I didn’t know at the time, but realized later in my future jobs, was I was being given a real lesson in life. It was tough at first, but I learned how to endure adversity and enjoy suffering for the greater good.

For the first time in my life, I was able to spend quality time with my dad. It wasn’t something I realized I missed, even while observing other kids having much more time with their fathers. Still, it was nice to hang out with him more often, chatting about whatever he wanted while we drove to the next lawn to cut. All these years later, I’ll still drive to the areas where he had some customers to help me relive those memories. They are very fondly looked back upon by both of us, and never fail to entertain us while we reminisce about the three years I worked for him.

For my sister, she wasn’t shorted quality time either. She and dad would reorganize the garage when the time came. Our mom would show up on the job sites at times with my sister with some food and drinks if we'd run out of what we had or wanted something special. He would make sure to give my sister some attention while mom took over the lawn mower for a few minutes.

With the slivers of time he had, he'd make time for father and daughter outings. To her embarrassment, he'd call her his baby daughter to those he'd see when they were out and about. Nowadays, she embraces the title and signs everything she writes to him as his baby daughter.

When I worked for my dad from 1994-1996, the Packers were doing really well for the first time in decades. Not in the fluky Infante and Majkowski ways, they were a solid team worth cheering in a way that only compared to the Lombardi days. I will always cherish the times we’d do a lot of work on Saturday to be done early enough on Sunday to catch the end of the Packer games. The team of Jim Irwin and Max McGee was the soundtrack to those Sundays, hustling to be done early enough, yelling at the windshield to the picture they painted with their commentary.

Then there were the days we’d hit up the local go-kart track to reward ourselves for a hard day’s work. Sometimes our close friend Greg would join us, along with some of his friends and family when the timing worked out. When that group got together, some of us were sure to get yelled at by the track employees. We could also count on at least one of us getting booted from the track for the day while trying to one-up each other. It's a fond memory we talk about to this day.

Just because I worked for my dad doesn't mean I had it easy. He made me work a lot harder than I wanted to, yelled at me when I was slacking off, docked my pay when I didn’t do what he expected, and I barely had days off. He and I are both stubborn, and that made for some interesting days, but he always won. The only times he let me stay home was when my allergies were more than I could bear after trying different masks and/or over the counter medicines. When he was hard on me, he never made it about himself and never disrespected me. He simply expected more from me because I was his kid; he didn’t want nepotism to be why he hired me. He was consistent with it all and we learned more about each other as time went on.

Unfortunately, every boss I have had since then has had to work against the high bar my dad set as my first boss. Those bosses may have seen me as problematic or insubordinate. In reality, I have consistently been disappointed I've had to settle for less than what I was shown by my dad and his stern and respectful ways.

The business eventually grew so much he couldn’t keep up with it. He was trying to hold onto it until I was 18 and could take over, but it got to be too much and he had to sell the business when I was 14. It was successful but not enough to replace his full time income and benefits. It was a bummer for him, but also a relief of the burden it became. He was working a full-time third shift job as well as cutting grass, resulting in very little sleep. Thank God our mom was a competent secretary!

A harder worker than my dad is someone I’ve yet to meet. In some ways, it hasn’t been so good for me; I’ve burned myself out more times than I care to remember trying to live up to the example I was shown. Only in very recent years have I learned how to take better care of myself instead of working myself to the bone. But I’ll never forget the sacrifices my dad made just to make our lives comfortable while his was anything but.

After selling the lawn care business in 1996, we saw dad much more. He remained a hard and dedicated worker with just one job, and for the short time he worked a second part time job. In the twenty plus years since, our dad has become more and more comfortable with himself and his life.

There was a time a few years ago when I had nowhere to go. He took me in, but a couple months later kicked me out because I wasn't living up to what he expected of me under his roof. Even then, in my late 20s, he was still my boss looking out for me and making a hard decision for my benefit when it hurt him more than it hurt me at the time.

He’s made other hard decisions over time to get where he is now, and has done the best he could to make up for what he regrets. My sister and I are proud of how he has been able to overcome the adversity of being teased and treated much less than he deserved by his family and peers, especially in his younger days, to being a confident public speaker despite his still present stutter. Whether prepared or off the top of his head, his genuine good hearted nature always comes through.

That confidence has manifested itself with the courage to be more confident in other areas of his life. Despite what life has handed him, the fact he's remained a simple and humble man while learning and becoming better from his mistakes speaks highly of his character. When the times have called for him to stick up for us and go above and beyond, he was always there.

Last year, his parents passed away 63 days apart from each other. With class and strength, our dad mourned the loss of his parents, even with their deaths so close to each other. My original intention was to have this ready for Father’s Day, but coincidence made this more special; today marks his father’s 93rd birthday. So, on this day, my sister and I celebrate the man that our father is, the man who helped shape him, and we thank them and love them both. We don't even have to ask, because he's shown and told us that being our father will always be his favorite job.

Word To Ponder: Skank

Calling a woman a skank is ill-advised, so don't be surprised about anything that comes your way from it. Begging off while thinking you can convince her you’re referring to the style of dance for reggae or ska music won’t work either.

The problem I have with this word is how laden it is of judgment. Not just with how others use it, but even the way the word is defined. “One who is considered to be sexually promiscuous, especially of a woman” is rife with assumptions.

A woman scantily clad is enough for some to conclude she is easy to bed. Some women may be inappropriately dressed, but isn’t necessarily an indication of how many sexual partners she's had or will have.

How could someone be "considered" sexually promiscuous? Being a flirt, perhaps? A woman who is a scantily clad flirt could be assumed to be sleeping around or have many sexual partners. Still, the picture is incomplete.

I've known plenty of women who simply enjoy and appreciate the attention they receive when they doll themselves up, revealing clothing or not. Some are a tad naïve in their hopes and/or expectations of men around attractive women.

A woman saying they're not interested to a man expressing interest should be enough. The men who can't take that simple statement for what it is will assume the woman is playing hard to get because of how she's dressed.

The kindest rejection is still rejection and an affront to some men's manhood, and the true selves of those men may come out. Mean and hurtful rejections can begin or escalate a negative situation for all involved.

A woman's lively, buoyant personality could also be misinterpreted. Loudness in voice, apparel, or both could be seen as insecurity or someone who is quite sexually active. It could also confuse what is real versus an act.

For decades, there has been the idea of studs and sluts. Meaning, a man who has had sex with lots of women is a stud, and a women who has had sex with lots of men is a slut. I think it's because women are the more intelligent gender and a man just wants what will make him happy in a moment sans big picture.

When a woman lowers herself to a man’s typical mentality, she may not be completely in touch with herself. Women are emotional beings that need to feel a true connection to someone before being intimate, even for a kiss. Chivalry has been utilized for many years to cater to women’s unique emotional needs and give them the security they need and deserve to feel.

Women who are in tune with themselves can spot a ruse masquerading as a chivalrous man with good intentions. A women not in touch with herself could wind up sexually promiscuous. Let me make this clear: a woman who has had many loving relationships is not a skank.

Even if a women is sexually promiscuous, I still abhor the word skank. Assumption is wrong and unfair and doesn't belong, even in this ever non-fair world. Everyone has beauty and a unique journey towards it. For someone to not realize all their potential and waste it on anything below a high standard is heartbreaking.

Someone who is broken needs compassion and empathy, not long stares and dirty looks or other forms of judgement. Something is not right within their soul that caused them to sleep around, drink and/or do drugs to excess, eat their feelings into long term health concerns, etc.

I hope I will live to see the day where snap judgments are rare, and people invest in each other to lift each other up instead of tear each other down. We gain nothing, but highlight our own insecurities, and it needs to stop.

The word skank and its related connotations is just the example I chose to use to make this over-arching point: everybody should feel they have a chance to be their best selves without worrying about others tearing them down about the journey it is taking to get there.

Our Mom

Who doesn’t love their mom? In some regard, I’d bet everyone has love for their mother. At minimum, there should be an appreciation for at least having carried and given birth. Now, that doesn’t mean a lifetime of love and respect is earned, but making sure a healthy baby is born is a very difficult responsibility. My heart will always go out to those whose mothers couldn’t lay off anything unhealthy while pregnant. I’m forever grateful my mom realized that responsibility and made sure I was brought into the world healthy.

I’m not going to pretend my mom and I didn’t have issues. Our ancestors gifted us the lovely trait of stubbornness, which made my teen and early adult years very difficult for both of us. At times I couldn’t decipher between her love and anger, but I’m lucky enough for her to still be around in order to gain a full circle perspective. The years of tumult we put each other through have resulted in a great relationship with each other. She still embarrasses me and drives me crazy at times, but it’s still just part of her charm. Despite the rocky road it was, she’s come a long way from thinking I needed a “mommy” and has made efforts to understand me as a man with boundaries, instead of the boy she was raising and protecting. I am grateful God gave me a mother who made sure I was well fed and clothed and showed me examples of what to do and what not to do.

Some of my favorite foods are sour or fermented, and it's no wonder why. During my mother's pregnancy, she often would crave these same things, specifically fresh squeezed lemonade and pickled beets. How do I know this? My curiosity compelled me to text her while she was at work. Her eagerness to share with me showed through in the verbosity of her message and quick response. She described how her pregnancy with me involved patronizing a place that sold fresh squeezed lemonade every day on her lunch hour while working at a mall. She also remembered many restless nights that were soothed by a visit to the fridge that always had a jar of pickled beets. She even told me what she craved three years later while carrying my sister.

When we were old enough to read, she regularly brought my sister and me to the library for us to borrow books for education and entertainment. We’d fill a huge tote bag with books as long as we promised to read them by the time we had to return them. She made us laugh with her commentary while watching television and what she thought our cats were thinking when they’d do, well, anything. She brought us to a variety of restaurants on Friday nights before we’d go grocery shopping, and it was quality time we looked forward to.

Our mom has followed her mother’s example of selflessness and generosity, despite her not always having much herself. Her ears and heart have not been shut for my sister and me, even when it wasn’t easy for her. There were many times her maternal instinct overrode logic, like remembering things I totally forgot and not being mad at me for not having this post done for Mother’s Day.

Whatever life presented to her, she always did the best she could with what she knew at the time. A surprise gift here and there for no occasion other than she loves her kids is still something she does, and also gives us things she no longer needs or uses. My sister loves it when she gets a call or text from mom for a random shopping trip. They never tire of those adventures, especially their yearly trip to one of their favorite destinations.

What made this year’s Mother’s Day different for our mom is that it’s the first one she had to spend without her mom; our grandma. She was a sweet and special woman who showed us all what love and family are about, giving us a high bar to match.

No matter the company name on the top of any of her paychecks, or a signature at the bottom, the job she loved the most was also the most selfless; being our mother. Through everything all our lives, and there has been a lot, we’ve never had to doubt who we came from or if we were loved. And that’s why we love our mom.

Word To Ponder: Impudent

Impudent means offensively bold or offensive, insolent or impertinent. A second meaning from the 1700s and earlier is immodest.

This word made me wonder why some people enjoy the blunt nature of an individual. Sure, some impudent people can be entertaining while saying what others keep to themselves. However, there is a danger in rewarding those who don’t exercise sensitivity and proper timing when speaking. Some of them can’t be helped and won’t care because all they’re doing is “being honest.” Again, it’s all about a time, place, and if it needs to be voiced.

There’s a reason all the best art in the world goes through phases before completion. Some art can be improvised, but even improvisation is a time-honed skill that a novice can’t pull off consistently, despite any beginner’s luck.

It’s a shame more people don’t look at what they say as artful expressions. I’ve been blunt. I’ve been reserved. I've been around plenty of examples of both, as we all have. There are many more times I’d love to take back what I said without thinking, whereas I’m proud of when I held back for better words or time.

The majority of impudence, fleeting or chronic, is a lack of reflection. Like anything worthwhile, reflection will not be easy at the outset. Not everybody will gift themselves any benefit of reflection in order to understand how they’re coming across. The tone of voice or delivery and body language is also something that must be exercised and reflected upon. Sometimes it’s just as or more important than what you say.

It saddens me when complacency stays with someone. Impudence has the non-reflective connotations which can impel a person to feel they’re not accepted for who they are. I would suggest the impudent person isn’t being rejected for who they are, but are rejected for not having a strong enough sense of themselves and manners overall.

Unhinged circumstances are only enjoyable in small doses for those who need to escape the realities of life. Not limiting impudence to small doses requires some digging in for a person who cannot, or refuses to, confront tough realities or situations.

I encourage you to confront yourself and be honest about your words and actions. Self-reflection will help remove your own impudence, thus strengthening your relationship with yourself and others. It won't be easy, but I promise it will be worth it.

Word To Ponder: Colonnade

A colonnade can be a row of columns supporting a roof. It can also be a row of trees or other tall objects. While I certainly love the natural beauty of rows of trees, I want to focus on columns that support a roof.

Structures large enough to necessitate supporting columns are impressive. Whether it’s a mansion or public venue, such magnificent architecture is met with awe. The amount and origin of awe depends on the person.

We all know people plagued with house intimdation while inside homes that have colonnades and other grand architecture. Others factor in how close or far away they are to buy or finance such a home.

No matter if it's a structure with colonnades, a luxury car, or private jet, I’ve always wondered why something expensive can make a person feel small. The ability to afford something should have nothing to do with having or lacking confidence.

Too many people are indebted to their insecurities of feeling poor or not making enough money. Living within realistic means should be something everyone strives for. Believe me, I’ve been there and enjoys nice things as much as anyone, but the limits of reality need to be instilled and adhered to.

The allure of making lots of money to over-compensate has been going on for hundreds of years. This world has seen millions of people sacrifice large parts of their honor and dignity for the sake of having more money and/or material goods. Current society shows us that this won’t change anytime soon; I would be happy to be proven wrong.

Money is only as good as what you do for it, with it, what it’s bringing into your life, and who you give it to. Be careful not to give ownership of what’s intended to be priceless: your integrity. What truly is most important in life to be happiest is quality relationships.

Don’t be intimidated by anything that costs a lot of money, including something so large it needs colonnades. Instead, be your own colonnade by focusing on what you need and who you care about, and who reciprocates it without judgment or material expectations.

End Limited

Fresh, full.
Deep and pure.
Vast and endless.
Hollow yet optimistic.

Expanding, while grass gets further away.
Contracting while gathering all you get,
Then know how grass feels.

Perspire to attain, bleed to know, cry when shunned.
Intuit, forward and upwards.
Trim to need, dispel noise.
Fulfilling should always happen when achieving.

Grass needs tending.
Knowing which to prosper and which to brown
Needs auditing through roots and water.

You are the sun, shine always.
Your field will show your diligence.
Is it dense with value?
Or is it too big for what you’ve grown?

Means to be lived within are never long.
The best it can be is all, it can be done.
The more you learn, limits are realized, and the
True meaning of what you need comes through.

Your end is limited, but will live on through
Who sees you do the most
With the least.

Phrase To Ponder: More Than You Know

Today I’ll deviate from a singular word to focus on a phrase I’ve heard a lot in my life.

When life hands someone the grace of assistance, telling the person or group their help means “more than you know” rings a little odd to me. Is there a false humility or embarrassment happening? Why leave it to the imagination how far the appreciation truly goes?

Don’t be shy; be honest to the extend of your truth. Expressing gratitude with a mere "more than you know" can be misleading. Leaving it to that person's or group's interpretation is short-sighted and lazy.

Too often, there are examples of the opposite: getting hurt and acting out, letting that person know exactly how they made you feel and perhaps going over the line.

Emotions can be strong when triggered, but is not an excuse for dishonest behavior in either direction.

Word To Ponder: Natter

To natter is to talk idly, or chatter.

Small talk seems to have those who love it and who despise it. There are people who love to talk with strangers about the weather and other fluff topics. There are also some who prefer to save all their socializing time for people they are close to so they may have an interesting and meaningful conversation. The middle ground is mostly for those who can natter, depending on the day or their mood. It can be as simple as saying someone is introverted or extroverted, depending on the atmosphere they are presently in.

My relationship with nattering is very extensive. Being in retail for decades, I understand small talk is a must. What I’ve experienced as a customer is people who don’t belong in retail due to social anxiety or introversion, or those that fake their way through the day. Putting on an act is fine enough, but it must carry some authenticity otherwise it ruins the experience for that customer.

There are individuals perfect for retail and selflessly serving others, though I worry if they find the time to care for themselves. That kind of selflessness can trickle into real life, or they are already selfless and found a job where they can be the same. Either way, balancing self-care with selflessness is key and different for everyone.

When working with people, you are bound to see some of the ones you serve when you’re in public. Then, there is a choice you need to make. Will you potentially be the same hollow “work” version of yourself, or will you decide to just be yourself? At that moment, whatever image you put out there is a representation of the company you work for. None of us may totally agree with it, but it’s just the way it is.

Though nattering seems mostly present in the workplace, its presence is also felt in our personal lives, specifically our families. I’d wager there is a large percentage of people who say family is an obligation, which breaks my heart. If a person is only engaging in small talk with their family, is there really a point spending time with them? The idea of being around people you don’t want to be is such a waste of life. Sharing blood shouldn’t equate to anything more, unless a true bond and affection for a relative is there.

Pay attention when you find yourself nattering, and not able to open up to someone. It is because they’re a stranger and you can’t trust them? If you’re at work, you’re not paid to represent yourself, so nattering can make a customer feel welcome. Be mindful of how you’re coming across, even if this means you’re hearing things you vehemently disagree with. This also goes for your co-workers. Just be the best teammate you can be in order to get the job done. Then, you can go about your life with the people you choose to be with, who can see through whatever nattering you had to do that day.

Word To Ponder: Peregrinate

To peregrinate is to travel or journey from place to place, especially on foot. As a transitive verb, its definition is to travel through or over; traverse.

Old fashioned, old school, and the way things were. In some cases, the way things should still be. That is what the word peregrinate got me thinking about today. Going for walks to get some fresh air and feel nature under your feet is still in fashion and an important part of one’s daily life. Doing so without the distraction of whatever one spills into their earbuds can bring the best results of a walk: a wonderful sense of calm and meditation.

But, when was the last time you walked to go somewhere, to run an errand? Or, when was the last time you had no choice but to do it on foot? Have you ever been there?

Sure, some of us live in neighborhoods where our vehicles are an option, but walk to a nearby convenience or grocery store for a few items light enough to carry back home.

My grandfather was the only boy of his family. When they all reached an age to begin learning responsibility and discipline, they were taught different roles. One of my grandpa’s roles as a boy, starting at 8 or 9 years old, was to go to the store while his dad was at work. He bought the food his mother deemed necessary for what they could afford for dinner. The lone vehicle the family had was his father's transportation for his job.

My grandpa was to get exactly what was on the list and bring back the exact change. If he dropped any of the groceries on the two mile trek back home, he would find his rear end difficult to sit on, no matter how noble his intentions. If he deviated from the list in any way, he was to walk back and rectify it. With money being tight, he had to quickly learn math to make sure the cashier made zero mistakes. When a mistake occurred, he’d have to go back and make it right, even if he got back more money than he should have. It was a very loving but strict household that saw everyone graduate to disciplined adulthoods with high integrity.

About a year or two after doing the store errands, my grandpa got his first job to contribute to the household income. His father had a recent handicap that required special assembly to his car to drive to his job, which sapped what little money they had saved up. His father could still do his job despite the handicap, and it was the same meager pay.

My grandpa’s first job was picking weeds and planting crops for one of the farmers who had some land all over the city. He walked about four miles one way to work a 10 hour shift for ten cents and hour. Once in a while, when she deemed it appropriate, his mom gave him a nickel to keep. His pride swelled each and every time he earned money for his family and himself.

My grandpa grew up to become one of the hardest working people I ever knew. He was a wonderful man who never let anything get in the way of providing for his family. Working up to four jobs at once to feed and shelter them was only part of it, he was also providing an example to live up to. The same could be said for his wife, my grandma.

She and her sisters walked everywhere as kids, including their first jobs. Just like her future husband, she picked weeds and planted crops in the fields of the farmers in the rural area they lived. In her later years, even before she recently died, she was still able to proudly identify the specific fields and what her and her sisters planted. Their salaries were for pennies an hour and also went towards the tight household finances.

My grandparents were an excellent couple who had four great people that became positive contributors to my life and the world. My mom and her siblings have and continue to be the best versions of themselves based on the examples their parents showed.

The sense of hard work and value of a dollar was ingrained in my grandparents very early. The fact they had to walk to run errands and to their first jobs gave them something else. If they were driven by vehicles to their jobs and to run errands, I believe their work ethic and value of a dollar would still have been there. Without the determination created by walking those miles, a sense of humility and a desire for independence would not have been so deep. Each of them grew up in large families, so walking also provided a necessary reprieve from the crowded houses they lived in.

So, what about you? What can represent peregrinating for you? The examples I gave of my grandparents were taught to them at young ages and they maintained it for the entirety of their lives and passed it down to their kids.

As we age, we never stop learning. Thus, we must keep looking for and finding what can keep us humble, hungry, and to never lose sight what the value of a dollar is and how it feels to earn something.

Cold

Not by choice, survival is why.

No benefit of the doubt, need more currency

Than you can afford.

Need your debt as proof but I’ll still need more to

Begin to thaw.

Face value is a lost art, or at least my reciprocation expectation

Is lost on me.

Why should I, why you wanna?

My depth is far from shallow

Without a net.

This is your only warning.

Bring your heat

To balance my cold.