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
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.
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.
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!+.
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.
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.
I broke my first poolee at Marine PT yesterday. And when I say broke, I mean that I single-handedly broke the will and spirit of a poolee to the extent that he dropped from the program.
Before you create a narrative in your head that makes me sound unusually harsh, badass or sadistic, let me clarify that I didn’t go full drill instructor or anything like that, but I was probably about as close as I get with these kids. I am fully cognizant that I am not an active duty Marine, and my job is to serve the recruiters, further the mission of the Marine Corps, and represent the Marine Corps League. It is not my place to weed out the weak, and I have never actively tried to do so. Here’s what happened…
We had a new kid, who kind of reminded me of the kid I called private Pyle… the kid who washed out earlier this year. We were doing bodyweight exercises, such as push-ups, burpees, planks, etc. and we were running.
We were broken up into two teams, with me leading one team, and a young reservist Marine leading the other. It was a contest, and I was pushing my team. Bear in mind that I was also doing the exercises with them. I was leading them as if I were active duty, which means ensuring they were sounding off loud and proud, and giving their all. This kid in particular had a hard time keeping up. At first I kept yelling for him to push harder. When his body was physically unable to do so, I’d give him a couple of reps off, yelling that he’d continue with us when we hit the next five. For example, he dropped on push-up twelve. On rep 13, I told him that he would join back in at 15.
This continued for a while, until he dropped on an exercise, which we finished without him. He was sitting on the grass, arms wrapped around his knees, head between the knees. I asked him if he was ready to join us, in a conversational tone. He looked up at me and his face was a snotty, tear streaked mess. I took him to a recruiter, saying in our Marine Corps, joking-yet-seroious demeanor “I think I broke him.” This was far enough out of the ordinary that I wanted a recruiter to step in, because again, I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. I went back outside and continued with my team.
A short time later, the kid jumped into a vehicle with a recruiter and left. As the kid entered the truck, he popped his head back out and hollered Thank you for the opportunity, Marine Evan. I suspected that meant he was permanently finished, but was focused on leading my team of poolees, so I set the comment aside for a bit. When we finished PT, I talked to the recruiter, who confirmed that the kid was indeed done, permanently, and he told me the story.
It turns out that the kid has an abusive mom, who yells at him a lot. This means he’s really sensitive to it. He had hoped that PT sessions could get him used to it before boot camp, but unfortunately, it triggered him and he broke. He told the recruiter that he appreciated the opportunity, but he needed to go back on his antidepressants. So, I did not actively seek to break anyone. What really happened was that I stumbled across a fatal flaw and brought it to light. From my perspective, it’s less offensive that the kid find out now, rather than breaking while in boot camp. In that respect, I guess I did help further the mission of the Marine Corps.
