Must Be in the Blood

Though he's only 13, I've taken my grandson to weekly PT with the Marine Corps recruiters and poolees on delayed entry.  The kid's been crushing it!

Last week we did an Indian run, with the added twist of a medicine ball.  The boy kept up and actually outperformed a good number of the poolees and other guests.  Yesterday, we did our monthly Initial Strength Test, which consists of each person doing a max set of pull-ups, a timed plank, and a 1.5 mile run.  The boy did 7 pull-ups, planked for the max time of 3:45, and ran the 1.5 miles in just over 10 minutes.  He outperformed poolees and other guests in every single event.

After we all finished our pull-ups, I asked the poolees to raise their hands if they did 10 or fewer pull-ups.  About half raised their hands, and I said "Congratulations, you just got beat by an old man."  I then asked the poolees to raise their hands if they did fewer than 7 pull-ups.  About a third kept their hands up.  To them, I continued with "Congratulations, you just got beat by an old man AND a thirteen year old boy."  When we finished the planks, the kids who hadn't maxed their time at 3:45 were standing in a group off to the side.  I looked over at them and said, "Congrats on getting out-planked by a 13 year old boy and an old man.  You suck!  Do better!"

I didn't do that for the run, though I should have.  The boy was one of the fastest ones there, finishing fourth, and I pulled out a personal best run time of 12:18, finishing faster than about 1/3 of the kids.  The recruiters seem to be enjoying the boy's presence.  I'm sure it is disheartening for these kids to get their asses kicked so mercilessly by the boy and me, and it should motivate them to do better.  Lord knows I'm proud of the boy.  It must be in the blood.

Not the Way

As this Cyclosporiasis thing is still going strong because of bad lettuce, I'm now reading there's a problem with jalapenos.  It's almost as if the universe it trying to tell us that a global mega food chain, full of an exploited work force, while simultaneously woefully lacking in product diversity, is not the way.

 #EatLocal

Some Things Stick With You...

I saw the movie Parenthood almost 40 years ago.  There's a scene from that movie that really hit home, even as a young man who hadn't yet had children. I still paraphrase the scene, and try diligently to live by it when I'm feeling overwhelmed.  I'd love to share the clip with you.

The Forgotten Art of Personalized Service

One thing that online retailers and big box stores cannot provide is highly personalized service, and I had forgotten the wonder of that level of attentiveness and expertise. My running shoes were wearing out and it was time to replace them. As is the case with many consumer goods, there is a dizzying variety of choice, and finding the best option can be a bit overwhelming. I've done the whole research-to-death thing, and quite frankly I'm a bit tired of it, so I decided to hit a store that specializes in running shoes, and I'm glad I went. 

I chose my spot, and the sales guy provided the exact expertise I need. We started by verifying my shoe size with a podoscope, which measures not just foot size, but arch height and other smaller details to provide a more customized fit. Next they asked me to run on a treadmill for a minute so they could record my running gait, again to find shoes that would match my body type. In this instance, they were looking for indication of excessive ankle rolling. From there, we discussed the frequency, distance and terrain of my typical run, and then Andy brought out about a half dozen shoes for me to try. Next, I walked around the store directly comparing different shoes. Wearing one of each shoe allowed me to directly compare and contrast, making it easy to select the best shoe for my needs. He also showed me inserts and socks to try out. The inserts didn't do anything for me, but I did pick up a pair of socks.

Another really cool item to note:  I was prepared to pay a small premium for the additional service, but was pleasantly surprised to discover that prices were in line with far larger competitors.  In fact, I received a discount for being a veteran, so I actually paid less.  It was great to rediscover the forgotten art of personalized service.

We have a boy!

Wifey and I fetched older grandson from Chicago yesterday morning.  We’ve got him for an extended visit, and I’m excited that he’s here.  After picking him up, we drove to downtown Chicago for a bit of sightseeing.  The original plan was to take him to the observation deck at Sears Tower, but the tickets were about $50 bucks a pop, and we had to wait for an hour, so we passed.  Wifey had considered getting advanced tickets, but we had no guarantee that we’d be able to make it, considering flight and traffic delays.

From there, we walked through the park, showing off the bean and the public water park area, after which we walked down Michigan Avenue.  We stopped in a couple of shoe stores at the boy’s request and introduced him to Pizzeria Due’s deep dish Chicago style pizza.

We left Chicago around 5:00 PM, at the peak of rush hour.  GPS sent us home via a path that's different from my tried-and-true method, and from there I made a mistake that cost us an extra hour of drive time.  Instead of following the GPS start to finish, I followed a US highway that I usually take.  Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that road cuts south, and goes through a ton of towns in the previously unexplored area.  The result was that I drove more miles, at a slower pace.  That’s a mistake I won’t make again.  Instead of getting home at about 9:30, we got home at 10:30.  Oh well, live and learn.  In the grand scheme of things, this is a first world problem.

Oh, on the good side, I got record high MPG in my little Murano.  I had a portion of travel where my average MPG was 32+ MPG, and the average mileage was 28 MPG for the tank. To put this in perspective, EPA estimates are 28 MPG highway, and my driving was combination.  My mileage was about 15% better than advertised.  And no, I didn't drive like a grandpa.  I'm too young at heart for that $h!+.

Words Matter

At my reunions this month, I was reminded how much words matter, specifically mine in this case.  During both of these events, I had people tell me about things I had said that stuck with them, sometimes for decades.  In many of these cases, I was just being a smart@$$, making off-handed comments.  That makes it all the more interesting, because my off the cuff comments somehow managed to have a lasting impact on people.

One of my high school classmates thanked me for the last minute reminder on Facebook.  He said he thought the reunion was a week later, and would have missed it if I hadn't sounded off.

One classmate's spouse reminded me of a work tidbit I had shared with him years and years ago.  I said "Those who can't do, manage.  Those who can't manage, do."  In this context, I was referring to managers vs. staff in the workforce.  He and I were coworkers at the time.  To me, it was a tongue-in-cheek variation of the old adage "Those who can't do, teach."  But it somehow stuck with him for twenty years.

I had multiple people, classmates and Marines alike, tell me that they appreciate my writing, because I come across as thoughtful and reasoned.  In this context, they were referring to my posts on Facebook.

One guy told me that he appreciated how I had called him out on some previous bullying behavior.  There are other instances, but they all follow this line of thought, and I believe I've cited enough specific instances to make my point...

There are two things I'm trying to communicate here:  1) I'm low key celebrating the knowledge that my tidbits of wisdom occasionally make a difference.  Too often in life, it feels like my words fall on deaf ears.  It's good to know that's not always the case.  2) Every piece of feedback was about good things I said.  I know that I am sarcastic and blunt in my delivery, but I try diligently to live a life that spreads the good and the love... you know... like a f*ck1ng hippie.  It's good to hear that my attempt to celebrate the good strikes home at least sometimes.

Class Reunion

I just returned from a high school class reunion.  It was a blast!  This was the third reunion I've attended, and each time it's a little different.  The first one was not too long after graduation, and it was a bit like an extension of high school.  People tended to kind of hang around with their high school cliques, reliving their glory days.  A few even tried to assert social dominance like they did in school.  It wasn't exactly bullying; it was more like bragging and exaggerating accomplishments.  At that reunion, I appreciated my friends and welcomed new real connections with classmates that had moved past high school, but the primary feeling I left with was contempt for the high school elite who wanted nothing more to relive their glory days and brag.

The second reunion I attended was another milestone reunion, and I saw a significant change in my classmates.  While we did focus on catching up with our close high school friends at first, we also quickly engaged with classmates we knew but didn't necessarily hang out with a lot.  There was still reliving of the glory days by those who had peaked in high school, but for the most part, we had collectively moved past those days.  The ones who wanted to relive the glory days kind of ended up in a corner, talking amongst themselves, while the rest of us enjoyed getting reacquainted and sharing life stories.

This reunion essentially saw the complete disappearance of high school drama and hang-ups.  Yeah, there were still one or two people who had peaked in high school trying to relive the glory days, but they were essentially ostracized.  They'd kind of insert themselves into random conversations, make one or two comments that were ignored, and they'd move on to the next group.  It was kind of pitiful, except for the fact that they brought the reactions themselves based on their behavior.

We spent a lot of time at a local sports bar, which was okay, but not ideal.  It was great because it was big enough to fit everyone, and it offered food and beverages for everyone, but it was kind of loud.  But there was an underlying understanding that we wanted to ensure that we made the event free to attend, so that nobody was excluded for financial reasons.  The bar scene also provided ample opportunity to mingle.

We toured our local high school, which recently had a massive upgrade and expansion to the athletic center.  There was a new swimming pool and a new indoor track and field center, both of which were spectacular.  It's unfortunate that this is being built at a time when school enrollment is falling due to declining birth rates, but them's the breaks.

The older (academic) part of the building was much as we remembered it, though many of us commented that things felt smaller than when we were kids.  For me, the band room in particular brought back a lot of nostalgia, because that's the single area where I spent the majority of my time.

It was awesome to see a lot of people I hadn't seen since graduation, and it was great to catch up with everyone (aside from the one or two reliving their glory days.)  It was also wonderful to know that most of us had moved on.  I had one classmate ask me point blank if I'd go back.  I said no, I'd choose a lot of other points in my life to revisit, but not high school, adding on that I pitied those who peaked in high school.  She fully agreed, and we had a moment.

None of that, however, was my favorite part.  For me, the best part was catching up with my second set of parents.  I stayed with the parents of my friend Greg.  For those of you who don't know (or don't recall,) Greg was my best friend for years and years.  We knew each other since sixth grade, and we were inseparable until he committed suicide a bit under 11 years ago.  I've always loved, respected and appreciated his parents, and it was a no-brainer to ask if I could stay with them during the reunion weekend.  I made a point to spend time with them each day, and spending time with them was the highlight of the weekend.

If you're a regular reader, you know that my relationship with my parents is... strained.  That's a side note to this story, but I felt the need to bring this up for anyone who wondered why I didn't stay with them.  My main point is this:  I am blessed.  Within the last month, I was able to attend two reunions with two completely separate groups of people who had an outsized impact on my life -- my Marines, and my high school classmates.  I have a pair of chosen parents that I love and value just for who they are, not because I owe it to them.  I have a great wife who happily joined me, even though neither group is "hers."  And these friends accepted her for who she is, without reservation.