Studying for Future Generations

“Do you need a right-handed or a left-handed door?”

“Let’s go with right-handed.”

“Do you need shims?”

“Shims?”

“To help secure the door frame.”

“Well, I have a guy who is hanging it for me.”

“He’ll probably need them. If he doesn’t get it aligned properly, ask for your money back and come back to the store to get some shims.”

“I’ll just take the shims right now.”

“How about door hangers?”

“Door hangers?”

“They help align the door.”

At this point, the Menards employee knew he was dealing with a guy who had no earthly idea what he was doing. He placed the door hangers (which look like brackets) on the door frame and tried to explain how to use them. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I took the door hangers anyway.

“How about paint?”

“Isn’t the door already painted?”

“It’s primed.”

“No paint. A primed door is good enough.”

On my way home, I couldn’t help but wonder how my grandfather, who lived through the Great Depression and could fix anything, would have reacted to my lack of hardware knowledge. Then I remembered a quote from the John Adams HBO miniseries.

When Adams (portrayed by Paul Giamatti) arrived in Paris to ask the French for naval support of the American cause, he found a culture he’s unfamiliar with – one much slower and engaged in the arts. Over a meal, he is asked about music and his response is thought-provoking.

“I must study politics and war, you see, so that my sons will have the liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons must study navigation, commerce and agriculture so that their children will have the right to study painting and poetry and music.”

My grandfather was on the front end of this spectrum in my family. He studied finance and repair, so his sons would have the liberty to study genealogy and photography. His sons studied sales and management so their sons, including me, would have the right to study literature and writing.

This is not lost on me.

When a generation stops thinking about, appreciating and building on the sacrifices of the previous generation, we become self-absorbed. But when we build on the sacrifices of previous generations, it gives us a chance to live beyond ourselves.

I have a feeling my grandfather wouldn’t be disappointed in my visit to Mendards. Instead, he would smile about the fact that his sacrifices allowed me to become a writer. But he would also want to make sure I’m not taking my liberty for granted, and he would want to make sure I’m studying something for the next generation so they will have the freedom to pursue something they love.

He’s been gone for nearly 30 years, but I can still hear the question he might ask me: What are you studying that will benefit and allow the next generation to pursue what they love?

I would tell him technology. I’m not crazy about learning new technology. In fact, sometimes I find it maddening. But in the same manner in which he was able to teach himself how to repair lawnmower and dryer engines so he could fix appliances in my family when they went out, I have a knack for learning technology and then passing that information along to loved ones, which I hope empowers them in some small way.

How about you? I would love to hear about the sacrifices the people made in your family which allowed you the freedom to pursue what you love. And then tell me what you are doing for the generation behind you.

An Unorthodox Christmas

A white Christmas ... a new(er) car ... and the grill (note:
the fire isn't as close to my car as it looks in this photo).

I need a white Christmas.

I don’t think it has anything to do with childhood memories, or even falling prey to Hallmark Channel overload (I watched 13 Christmas movies this year) during which every movie has a snowy Christmas Eve scene thirty seconds after everything has been resolved.

Okay, maybe subconsciously childhood memories or perfect movie endings have shaped my desires, but thankfully we had a snowstorm last Thursday, so I got my white Christmas. We even had a little snow on Christmas Eve, so maybe I am trapped inside a Hallmark movie.

Other than the snow and a few other instances, this Christmas was a bit unorthodox for me. Not in a bad way. Just in the truest sense of the word – it broke with convention.

It started last week when my mini-van was dying. I’m not really a mini-van sort of guy, but at the time I bought it, it was the best vehicle on the lot in my price range. So I became a soccer single guy (doesn’t quite roll off your tongue like “soccer mom,” does it?). But it’s been sputtering over the past month or so and the perpetual check engine light wasn’t just for Christmas decoration. So, I traded the mini-van for a new(er) Ford Focus with a warranty.

When I drove it off the lot a day after the snowstorm, evening was setting in. The melting snow was turning to ice and that’s never a good time to drive a new(er) car for the first time. I was also late for a Christmas party. And I had to drive across town to pick up a friend first.

I crept along the icy streets and was a nervous wreck by the time I picked up my friend. But we made it to the Christmas party safely and I was laughing in no time.

So, unorthodox situations aren’t always a bad thing.

On Christmas Day, my family gathered at Mom’s. We followed our orthodox annual routines – I grilled steaks and chicken in single degree weather, we ate a huge meal and we opened gifts.

Afterward, we went unorthodox.

Rather than watching football or a Christmas movie, I popped in a few home videos (yes, videos) of Christmases past and we oohed and awed over hairstyles, tight jeans and various other fashion faux pas of the 1990s. But once we got past those, we shed tears of joy and sadness over seeing and hearing loved ones who are no longer with us. 

As I watched the videos, I realized how poor my memory can be sometimes. My parents divorced when I was eight and after that my sister and I spent Christmas Eve with my Dad’s side of the family and Christmas Day with my Mom’s side – or so I thought. One video showed all of us together on Christmas Day. I have no memory of that, but I’m thrilled that we recorded it.

After the celebration was over and I was back home, I decided to watch “A Christmas Story.” So many people make it part of their annual tradition, but I’ve never seen it. At the risk of offending nearly everybody, I turned the movie off at the halfway point.

I expected a nostalgic, corny, cheesy trip down memory lane. But the movie stepped over all three lines, into the ridiculous. The scene in which Ralphie envisions himself going blind one day because his mom made him wash his mouth out with soap that contained a dangerous chemical did it for me.

Overall though, I enjoyed the mixture of unorthodox and orthodox Christmas moments this year. How about you? Have anything unusual, or even usual, to share about the way you spent the holiday?

Grand Gestures

Clanc-meister turns six today

My mom’s cat, Clanci (whom I affectionately call Clanc-meister), turns six today. I plan to make a big deal out of it, complete with a little cake and a birthday card.

Why do I even know when Clanci’s birthday is and why go to so much trouble for an animal that won’t have a clue why we are singing “Happy Birthday”?

Because making a grand gesture toward Clanci – the cat who keeps my mom company during her routines – will make Mom smile, and laugh.

She will say we are both nuts, and that Clanci is spoiled. And I’ll agree. We’ll enjoy some cake, take a few photos, talk about our favorite Clanci moments and cement another shared memory.

We’ve gone through this routine in the past, but I never really saw it as a grand gesture until I watched the movie Due Date (see the previous post). Peter, who wasn’t all that fond of Ethan early in the storyline, convinces Ethan to toss his father’s ashes into the Grand Canyon by saying, “He deserves a grand gesture.”

Peter didn’t mean Ethan’s father had done anything special to merit a grand gesture, even though he probably had. Instead, he was saying Ethan’s father deserved a grand gesture simply because he was Ethan’s father.

Grand gestures are rooted in love, in the verb sense of the word. It is easy to use the word “love” as a noun – a strong emotional feeling toward someone or something. But using the word as a verb is much more powerful because it shows us what that strong emotional feeling looks like.

Romans 12:10 is a great example.The writer says, “Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.” In context, the writer is referring to fellow believers in Rome, but the principle still applies – one way of loving one another with brotherly affection is to outdo one another in showing honor.

We can honor one another in hundred different ways – birthday celebrations, anniversary celebrations, cards and letters, a phone call on the anniversary of the death of a loved one, flowers, gifts, plaques, certificates, toasts, an invitation to meet for coffee to celebrate an accomplishment and yes, sometimes even buying someone’s cat a birthday cake.

Most grand gestures are simple to pull off. Sometimes though, I get so caught up in my own life that I forget to do the little thing for someone else. Maybe you do too. But God’s mercies are new every morning.

Amazing Grace, Rod Stewart and Bubbly

Usually Latte will pose with the bottle of wine, but this
time she was more interested in the wine than posing

On my quest to find good red wine (and by good I mean somewhere between Kool-Aid sweet and Merlot), I picked up a bottle called Bella Bolle’, Sweet Red.

Bella Bolle’ is an Italian bubbly. I didn’t know it was a bubbly when I bought it, but maybe the design on the bottle should have given it away. Unfortunately, I’m just not that astute.

It looks like Bella Bolle’ only makes Sweet Red and Moscato d’Asti.

Less is more sometimes.

On Sunday night, I poured a glass of the Sweet Red and sat down to watch the movie “Due Date.” Synopsis from IMDB: “High-strung father-to-be Peter Highman is forced to hitch a ride with aspiring actor Ethan Tremblay on a road trip in order to make it to his child’s birth on time.”

I took a sip of wine as the movie started and was reminded of Wild Cherry Pepsi, which makes sense since it is a bubbly and has a combination of ripe cherries and raspberries flavoring. It’s not over-bubbly though, like a champagne. Instead it’s more like a hybrid.

Toward the end of Due Date, Peter and Ethan pull up to the Grand Canyon where Ethan wants to spread his father’s ashes. These two men could not be more different. Peter is a by-the-book kind of guy who doesn’t stray to the fringes of life. Ethan lives in the fringes.

Peter can’t stand Ethan and the way he lives, but he has softened toward Ethan by this point of the movie. Ethan is a loner who is looking for solace after his father died, and while he knows Peter isn’t fond of him, he is hoping Peter will just listen to him to help him get past a difficult time in his life.

They get out of their vehicle at the Grand Canyon and Ethan approaches the edge. “Amazing Grace” plays softly in the background while Ethan eulogizes his father (you can watch the scene here).

Wait a minute – is that Rod Stewart singing “Amazing Grace”? Wow, that is unexpected, but it works.

Ethan tosses his father’s ashes into the canyon as the song winds to a close. And it hits me – this scene is like the wine I’m drinking. I found beauty in the unexpected in both cases.

If you are looking for a unique sweet red wine that isn’t over the top sweet, Bella Bolle’ is a nice choice. And If you are looking for a dramedy that is so silly it is serious, Due Date is a nice choice.

If Someone's Love Can Make Us Better ...

The plot for the movie “One Day” intrigued me when I first heard it. Still does.

Emma (Anne Hathaway) and Dexter (Jim Sturgess) meet on July 15 – the day of their college graduation, and then reconnect every July 15 for twenty years to talk about where they are in life before finally realizing they should be together.

A few years ago, I went to see the play, “Same Time, Next Year,” (based on the 1978 movie of the same name) and it had the same premise (which a blog called Movie Smackdown explores). It had a fatal plot twist though in my mind since both George and Doris were married and were renewing their affair on the same day every year.

I watched “One Day” over the weekend. Unfortunately, it was a bit disjointed. But it is still the better of the two productions.

One particular scene in the movie stands out. But it’ll take a minute to set up. Stop reading here if you don’t want me to spoil the ending. Okay, you’ve been warned.

Emma is more likable than Dexter. You feel her wandering pains more. And you get the feeling that she’s just going through the motions without Dexter. She takes a job as a waitress and settles for a man (Ian) she doesn’t love.

Dexter has his own demons – all the usual suspects. And the truth is, he doesn’t show Emma the respect she deserves.

At times, it’s hard to understand what Emma sees in him, other than twenty years worth of history. With history comes familiarity though, so I can see why she pines for Dexter. He’s the only one who really knows her.

Finally, they realize they are better together, so they get married. But then, she dies. After Emma’s death, Dexter is lost. He provokes a fight in which he gets beaten severely. And he ends up at his father’s (Steven) place, where they have this conversation.

“So, is this going to be an annual festival, do you think?” Steven says. “Every year, fifteenth of July?

“Well, I hope not.”

“I don’t want a heart-to-heart. Do you?”

“No. No. I’d rather not,” Dexter says.

“Except to say that I think the best thing that you could do would be to try to live your life as if Emma were still here. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can,” Steven says. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past ten years?” [His wife died of cancer.]

Dexter glances over at his dad who has his face buried in a bowl of soup. He nods a couple of times knowing his dad has found a way to go on.

Later, Ian visits Dexter and he is gracious. He tells Dexter that Emma made Dexter decent while Dexter made her happy. There’s a certain sadness in this admission from Ian. He knew Emma’s heart was never his, but he has moved on and found someone else.

Steven’s wisdom, combined with Ian’s observation, provide clarity.

If someone’s love can make us better, then it has the power to keep making us better ... even beyond the grave. Maybe that’s why reminders of people after they are gone help us heal, transforming our tears to smiles of recognition.

Nougar, Manscape and Photobomb

Photo: Stickpen

I’ve been out of touch with young people’s culture for a long time. That was never more apparent than when my 15-year-old niece asked me to buy her some air heads and bug juice in 2005. Yes, I blogged about that.

This past week, I learned three new terms – all of which have more to do with my own generation. I’ll try to keep up as long as I’m able. But at some point, I’m guessing I’ll throw my hands up in the air, and wave them around like I just don’t care. [How’s that for dropping a little 1979 culture on you: “Rapper’s Delight“]

Here are the new terms:

Nougar. According to this blog post, here’s the definition: “Typically in her early to mid-30s – about ten years younger than your average cougar – the nougar (which stands for new cougar), refuses to grow up, ‘take dating too seriously and thinks that because she’s still living like a 20-something she might as well go out with one, too.’”

I’ve never been fond of the term “cougar.” Can’t say I’m particularly fond of “nougar” either. Movies are made (“Failure to Launch“) and songs are sung (“Forever and Always“ by Taylor Swift) about men who are “scared little boys” and refuse to grow up, but I don’t think we’ve hung a demeaning label on them yet.

Maybe we should all just grow up, huh?

Manscape. Somehow, the definition of this word has already made it into the Oxford Dictionary: “The removal or trimming of hair on a man’s body for cosmetic purposes.”

I first heard about this when Kelly Ripa and Michael Strahan were talking about it earlier this week on TV. Apparently he shaves his chest hair. I’m not going to judge.

I will say this though, I inherited my dad’s inability to grow chest hair. He used to say he had three hairs on his chest and he made sure to keep one hand over them while in the shower to protect them from falling out.

So, other than an occasional ear or nose hair that goes rogue, Warren men do not need to manscape.

Photobomb. The Urban Dictionary defines it this way, “To drop in a photo unexpectedly ... to hop in a picture right before it is taken.”

Here is a website with a bunch of examples. The photo in this post is another. Somebody intended to take a photo of some sort of weird looking green fish and the orange fish got in on the act as well.

If you have 20 minutes to waste spare, then Google “photobombing.” You’ll laugh at most of the pictures and be creeped out by others.

Dance in the Moment

Sometimes you just have to pull away from
everything so you can dance in the moment.
Photo: Aunt Owwee

I flipped through the radio dial on a road trip a few years ago and stopped when I heard “Hotel California,” by the Eagles. I’m not a huge Eagles fan, but one particular line from this song has always intrigued me. I listened for it that day.

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes bends / She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friends / How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat / Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

Some dance to remember, some dance to forget.

That line brings back memories of high school dances gone by. In those days, I danced to forget that I was an overweight shy teenager who had little confidence that I could ever attract a member of the opposite sex. Even when I did, I always had the feeling I wouldn’t be able to keep her. But there I was, dancing to a Billy Squier tune in a Catholic high school gymnasium with my girlfriend.

When we get older, we dance (both physically and figuratively) to remember those high school dances, or some other period in our lives when things seemed simpler – better somehow.

We take photos to remember. We listen to music to remember. We journal and write and blog to remember. We read to remember. We celebrate to remember. We drink to remember. We gather with friends at backyard barbeques to remember. We upload photos to Facebook to remember.

Of course, there are times in which we also do those things to forget. I certainly do both, depending on the mood I’m in.

But we shouldn’t forget to dance in the moment.

In the movie Elizabethtown, Claire sends Drew on a 42 hour and 11 minute road trip by himself to deal with his self doubt. She provides him with a scrapbook that includes a map, some photos, and a set of pre-recorded CDs with songs about her and instructions about where to go and what to see. As Drew escapes the pressures he is facing, he begins to relax, and that allows him to get beyond himself and his concerns. 

He talks to a man who has owned a sundry store in Memphis for 38 years. He stops for a bowl of the world’s best chili. He visits national landmarks. He gazes at the stars. And when he is tempted to get drawn back into the cycle of dancing to remember or dancing to forget, Clare makes this statement on one of the CDs, “Sadness is easier because its surrender. I say make time to dance alone with one hand waving free.”

Drew pulls off the road, finds an empty path among some trees and he heeds her advice. He dances alone with one hand waving free. And for those brief moments, he finally seems to understand what it means to dance in the moment – no trying to remember or forget, just a state of being.

There is power in that.

*****

For the record, I know that Mercedes Benz is spelled with a Z, but every lyrics website I visited spelled it the way you see above.

Oh, and if you missed the series of posts I did about Elizabethtown a few years ago, here are the links:

• Substitute People
• Elizabethtown, Part 1
• Elizabethtown, Part 2
• Elizabethtown, Part 3
• Elizabethtown, Part 4

Six Rules from People Like Us

Most doors in this world are closed
so if you find one you want to get into
you better have an interesting knock
Photo: Evan Bench

People Like Us flopped at the box office. I often like flops though.

I still think Howard the Duck was a great movie. Just because a movie flops doesn’t mean it isn’t good. It simply means not enough people cared about the storyline to go see it. Or maybe the movie wasn’t marketed well enough for its potential core audience to even know it exists. Or maybe movie critics tore it up before moviegoers had a chance to make up their minds.

I don’t know why People Like Us flopped, but it kept my attention throughout for a number of reasons. It’s about a salesman named Sam who discovers he has a sister, Frankie, and a nephew, Josh, while he is settling his father’s estate and that causes him to rethink the way he is living.

As somebody who is single and will probably never have children, but does have two nieces and a nephew, the uncle-nephew storyline resonated with me. Josh is picked on in school and is forced to fend for himself much of the time as his mother attempts to put food on the table. As Sam gets close to Josh, he can’t help but want to be a part of Josh’s life. Josh feels the same way.

Sam’s relationship with his own father was contentious, but throughout the movie he hints to Josh that his dad had six rules he lived by and that one day he might share them with Josh. It’s funny how closely a son is tied to his father, even if he doesn’t want to be. When Sam believes Josh is ready for the six rules, he lays them on him.



The Six Rules

1. If you like something because you think other people are going to like it, it’s a sure bet no one will.

Great advice.

2. Most doors in the world are closed, so if you find one that you want to get into, you damn well better have an interesting knock.

True. Every writer needs to heed this advice.

3. Everything that you think is important, isn’t. Everything that you think is unimportant, is.

Deep, but often true. We chase all sorts of lusts expecting fulfillment when we finally indulge them, when in reality, only sacrificial living will satisfy.

4. Don’t s*** where you eat.

Crude, but good advice. It’s an old saying that means you shouldn’t do something that will jeopardize something or someone you care about. If you want to keep your best friend, don’t steal from her. If you want to keep your workplace free of drama, don’t date your co-worker.

5. Lean into it. The outcome doesn’t matter. What matters is that you were there for it, whatever it is – good or bad.

I love this one for a couple of reasons. We rarely control the outcome of anything we do. But leaning into it means we were fully present and we gave it our best shot, and that leads to no regrets.

6. Don’t sleep with people who have more problems than you do. [This one was cut out of the movie clip above by whoever posted it originally.]

This one is moronic for more reasons that I want to get into, but five out of six isn't bad.

It’s ironic that Sam’s father is leaving a legacy through these rules, not only to Sam, but also to Josh, even though he was a deeply flawed man. His own family had a hard time respecting him, but the lessons he learned about life live on in his family anyway.

As I listened to these rules – which are basically truths – being passed from one generation to the next, I couldn’t help but think of the rules my own father passed on to me. I’ll share those in my next post, hoping you’ll share some from your own father as well.

The John Adams HBO Mini-Series, Part 2

When John Adams (portrayed by Paul Giamatti in the HBO mini-series) arrived in Paris to ask the French for naval support of the American cause, he found a culture he’s unfamiliar with – one much slower and engaged in the arts. Over a meal, he is asked about music and his response, as always, is thought-provoking (if you are reading this post via email, you’ll need to click through to the blog to see the video).



“I must study politics and war, you see, so that my sons will have the liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. [I love the reaction by Benjamin Franklin at this point of the quote – he knows he’s hearing something profound even before Adams finishes.] My sons must study navigation, commerce and agriculture so that their children will have the right to study painting and poetry and music.”

Obviously, Adams has thought this out. His generation is responsible for educating itself in politics and war so the next generation has the liberty to study topics such as mathematics and philosophy to enrich their lives, but he says they also have a duty to study navigation, commerce and agriculture to lay the groundwork for a new society so that the next generation can study the arts.

Adams was forward thinking, and in so being, he was duty-bound to the next generation. Some 230 years have passed since then. Should we still study and master topics knowing they will benefit the next generation while also taking full advantage of what the previous generation studied for us? Or are the collective sacrifices of generations past enough?

It seems to me that when a generation stops thinking about, appreciating and building on the sacrifices of the previous generation, we become self absorbed. But when we build on the sacrifices of previous generations, it gives us a chance to live beyond ourselves.

It’s a little more tricky in our day though. We aren’t starting from ground zero, like Adams. If we were to live according to his philosophy in our modern culture, each family in each generation would need to consider where it has come from and where it is going, and act accordingly.

As I think about my own family, my grandparent’s generation comes to mind. One of my grandfathers was the go-to guy for my family. He worked hard, saved money, educated himself about the basics of survival (he grew up in the Great Depression) and he always had an answer for family members in need, whether it was how to fix a car, how to build a nest egg or how to fix a marriage. Looking back, the way he spent his leisure time had more to do with the helping the next generation than it did with satisfying his own wants.

As I’ve discussed my grandfather’s life (he died in 1985) with my own father (who died in 2000), I’ve learned that, like everyone else, my grandfather had his own dreams. He dreamed of developing the land he lived on into apartments, which, now that I think about it, even that probably had something to do with offering the generations to follow an established business if they so desired it, but the timing was never right, and maybe the finances weren’t either, I don’t know.

But I do know he was a satisfied man.

And I’m challenged by that.

The John Adams HBO Mini-Series

I'm three years late, but I'm finally getting around to watching John Adams, the mini-series based on David McCullough's biography.

It's powerful and something I wish everybody who was running for public office would watch. Check out this scene in which Adams (portrayed by Paul Giamatti) speaks before the Continental Congress about the notion of declaring independence from England.

I especially love this line, "I see a new nation, ready to take its place in the world. Not an empire, but a republic -- and a republic of laws, not men." We've strayed so far from this principle in our day.



In addition to being inspired by Adams, the leader, I've also been inspired by the love story between John and Abigail Adams. And it really makes me want to read The Letters of John and Abigail Adams. In his biography about Adams, McCullough includes this bit of information about Abigail's letters to John:

From Abigail came long letters filled with news from home -- of family, of politics, of her day-to-day struggle to manage expenses, cope with shortages, and keep the farm going, a responsibility for which little in her background had prepared her. 

From what I can tell, their love story is warm, practical and sacrificial. It's the sacrificial portion that intrigues and inspires me most.

The Lovely Bones – Heroes

The Lovely Bones is one of many books I picked up a couple of years ago intending to read soon, but then put it aside when other books caught my eye. I ended up seeing the movie version first, which was probably best because I generally don’t like the movie after I’ve read the book. But when I see the movie first, I’m usually neutral on which one is better.

The Lovely Bones is the first novel I’ve picked up by Alice Sebold, so I had no frame of reference when I started reading it recently. As you probably know, the novel is told from the point of view of a 14-year-old girl named Susie who is brutally murdered. She can see and hear her family, friends and killer from heaven. It's an interesting concept, but the author looses me at times because Susie’s observations seem more like an adult’s than those of a 14-year-old girl. So it doesn't really work for me. For example:

Late at night the air above hospitals and senior citizen homes was often thick and fast with souls. Holly and I watched sometimes on the nights when sleep was lost to us. We came to realize how these deaths seemed choreographed from somewhere far away. Not our heaven. And so we began to suspect that there was a place more all-encompassing than we were.

To me, this sounds more like the point of view of a 38-year-old.

But one scene gets it right, even though it has a couple of awkwardly worded sentences, and it’s the one I want to focus on in this post. Susie is watching from heaven as her dad tries to carry her brother, Buckley, piggyback in their yard – the way he used to before Susie’s death and before he had knee surgery. And in the most ordinary of circumstances, she ends up seeing her dad as a hero for his effort.

So, awkwardly, in the beautiful isolation of the yard, where if my father fell only a boy and a dog who loved him would see, the two of them worked together to make what they both wanted – this return to father/son normalcy – happen. When Buckley stood on the iron chair – “Now scoot up my back,” my father said, stooping forward, “and grab on to my shoulders,” not knowing if he’d have the strength to lift him up from there – I crossed my fingers hard in heaven and held my breath. In the cornfield, yes, [that’s where she was murdered – and I guess Susie is saying her dad’s head is still there in the cornfield?] but, in this moment, repairing the most basic fabric of their previous day-to-day lives, challenging his injury to take a moment like this back, my father became my hero.

Heroes come in a lot of varieties – from people who risk their lives for people they don’t know to people who choose professions or volunteer positions to better their communities. And sometimes a hero can be found in the smallest of actions – like a father running the risk of embarrassment, or worse, just to make his son feel the special bond they used to share during piggyback sessions in the backyard.

5 Movies with Jennifer Aniston

It’s been a while since I’ve written a post for the Name 5 series. If you are new to the blog, I got the idea from the board game called Name 5. The premise is pretty simple – players advance on a by naming 5 items on a list from a card they draw. In this particular case, one of the cards says, “5 Movies with Jennifer Aniston.”

In my opinion, Aniston has been in a couple of great movies as well as a number of duds. Now that I look of my list of her five best movies, I would only watch two of them over and over – the first two I’ve listed below.

1. Marley & Me. By far my favorite Aniston movie. Loved her role as Jennifer Grogan. I particularly loved the scene where she thumbs through her husband’s (John) former columns near the end of the movie and suggests he put them in book. She reminisces about the role Marley played in their lives and you can feel the passage of time as she flips through the columns John wrote about the bad and funny deeds the dog committed over the years.
2. Management. I wrote quite a bit about this movie last July. Aniston plays a woman named Sue, a traveling art saleswoman who is trying to cut ties with a motel manager named Mike. Sue is aloof, unsure of what she wants, and going through the motions in life. She needs Mike, but she just doesn’t know it. Mike is immature, unsettled, and a bit of a wreck. But he’s in love with Sue and it makes him want to be a better man. What’s not to love about that?
3. Bounty Hunter. This is more of a comedy than anything, which is fine, but usually not my thing. Aniston plays a reporter named Nicole. I thought the chemistry between Nicole and her ex-husband Milo (played by Gerard Butler) was believable. I saw this one twice at the movie theater, but I doubt if I’ll watch it again.
4. Rock Star. The music reminded me of the 80s – when my hair was long and my socks were too. Aniston plays the girlfriend of a guy, Chris, who gets a shot to sing for his favorite band. They get caught up in a crazy lifestyle and it takes a toll on their relationship. You really feel for Aniston’s character, Emily, as their relationship dies.
5. The Good Girl. Aniston plays a store clerk named Justine in a small Texas town and she feels stuck. I’m a total sucker for a story like this one. But this one never quite did it for me.

The Ramen Girl

Brittany Murphy plays Abby
(Photo: Daniel Case)

A couple of nights ago, as I was browsing Netflix for a lighthearted movie to watch before I fell asleep, I ran across a movie called The Ramen Girl. It was billed as lighthearted, set in Japan, and starred Brittany Murphy.

So much has changed since this movie was released in 2008. Murphy died a year later. And Japan – well you know what Japan is experiencing right now. This perfectly preserved bit of art, in which time is frozen, seemed to be just what I was looking for.

Murphy plays an American named Abby who travels to Tokyo to be with her boyfriend, Ethan. He leaves her early in the movie. The logical thing for her to do would be to return to America, but something is drawing her to stay in Tokyo.

She spots a quaint neighborhood ramen noodle house near where she is staying and she drops in one night during a rainstorm. The place is closed but the owner, a man named Maezumi signals for her to sit down. As she does, the realization that she is directionless in life overwhelms her and she begins to sob.

Maezumi is busy making her a bowl of ramen noodles when his wife, Reiko, sees Abby. Since neither Maezumi or Reiko can speak English and since Abby cannot speak Japanese, Reiko can only wonder what’s wrong with Abby.

“What happened?” Reiko says to Maezumi. “What’s wrong?” [Subtitles are in use.]

“Who the hell knows?” Maezumi says. “I guess she’s hungry.”

“Is she hurt?” Reiko says. “Do you think she needs to go to the hospital?”

“Maybe if she eats, she’ll get out of here,” Maezumi says.

Abby continues to sob at her table while Maezumi prepares her bowl of ramen noodles.

“Do foreigners eat spring onion?” Maezumi says to Reiko. “They must eat spinach.” He drops some into the bowl with the noodles. “Popeye loves spinach.”

Reiko adds what looks to be a piece of pork and Maezumi walks the bowl over to Abby.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with my life,” Abby says to a confused Maezumi. “I’m a complete mess. My cousin, Heather, just got her Ph.D. Here I am, four years out of college – Phi Beta Kappa – and I’ve got nothing to show for it. Not one single thing. And I thought I was so brave coming to Tokyo, but Ethan ... just ... left me .. and I’m, I’m ... so alone.”

“Eat,” Maezumi says. “Girlie. Eat. Eat.”

“What?” Abby says.

“What did she say?” Reiko says to Maezumi.

“No idea,” Maezumi says. “She’s a lunatic.” He hands Abby some chopsticks. “Eat, please.”

“Thank you,” Abby says.

“She’s nuts,” Maezumi says to Reiko.

“Eat,” Reiko says to Abby.

“Thank you.”

Maezumi and Reiko begin to clean up the place while Abby eats her noodles. As she finishes, her countenance is difference. She’s even able to smile. Maezumi and Reiko refuse to take any money from her for the food. She hugs Reiko and before she can leave, Maezumi stops her to give her an umbrella, which she takes.

Two simple acts of kindness – a bowl of ramen noodles and an umbrella – help her begin to pick up the pieces of her life. Maybe that’s why we do luncheons after funerals in America. Maybe that’s why friends, family members, and neighbors bring each other casseroles after a tragedy strikes. And maybe that’s why friends who have lost touch share a bottle of wine on a Sunday afternoon.

The irony of all this is that so many people in Japan at this very moment have been without food and water since the earthquake and tsunami hit. In the spirit of The Ramen Girl, maybe we could all find a way to donate a few bucks to a relief effort that will provide much needed food and water for people in desperate need.

5 Famous Kevins

Kevin Appier

The best part of doing a Name 5 series on my blog is that I’m not subject to the suspect judging I normally have to encounter when my answers get a little creative.

I'm still holding a grudge over one of my answers being disallowed a couple of years ago when playing Scattergories. The card said to list something you’d find in a souvenir shop that starts with the letter “p.” That’s easy: pickles. The judges didn’t allow it. Since then I have found several places online that prove I was right.

Let’s see how creative my answers would be if I were to pull the “5 famous Kevins” card in the Name 5 game:

1. Kevin Costner. He’s been in a ton of baseball movies and chick flicks, so he has to be at or near the top of my famous Kevins list. Loved his roles in Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, Tin Cup, Message in a Bottle, For Love of the Game and The Upside of Anger.

2. Kevin Appier. I might get a few arguments on this one, but the former pitcher for the Kansas City Royals is the Royals’ all-time strikeout leader (1,458), won more than 100 games, finished third in the 1993 Cy Young Award vote with an 18-8 record and a 2.56 ERA. More than anything, he was one of the few bright spots on my favorite team that did nothing but lose during the 1990s. By the way, you can vote for him to make it into the Royals Hall of Fame this week.

3. Kevin Eubanks. I don't think the Tonight Show has been the same since he left. He was funny and he’s a great guitar player. I loved his work on this version of Leno theme song in 2009.

4. Kevin James. He was hilarious on The King of Queens, and I liked his roles in 50 First Dates, Hitch and Paul Blart: Mall Cop.

5. Kevin Seitzer. Here’s where I would get the argument from the board game police. “Kevin Seitzer was never famous,” they would say. “He was famous in my household,” would be my response, “and he should have been famous in yours.” The former Royals’ third baseman was the ninth AL player with 200 or more hits in his rookie season. He was on the 1987 All-Star team. And he was a career .294 hitter. Oh, and he’s on the Royals Hall of Fame ballot too.

How about you? Can you name 5 famous Kevins.

Old Stuff Day, Part 2

On March 2 last year, I wrote about Old Stuff Day – a day that, according to the Holiday Insights website, is a day set aside to “recognize the boring nature of your daily routine, and make some exciting changes.” It goes on to suggest finding new activities, projects, and hobbies.

As I thought about how much has changed since last March 2, it seems as if I don’t even need to actively search for newness – it just finds me.

I lost my beloved cat of 20 years and rescued a different one from a shelter. The publishing industry is shifting from print to online and e-books at rocket-like speed. I was flirting with the idea of buying a Kindle 2 last March 2 and now I have a Kindle 3, on which I buy 90% of the books I read. I had a different car than I do now. I stopped buying DVDs for the most part because Netflix allows me to watch anything I want for one low monthly price.

Makes me wonder what will change the next time Old Stuff Day rolls around.

The Book of Eli

Photo: Falkenauge

My only problem with The Book of Eli is that it should have been titled “Eli’s Book.”

If you haven’t seen the movie, it’s is set in a post apocalyptic world in which nearly everything has been destroyed. Food is hard to come by and water is even scarcer. Violence is a way of life as a man named Eli (played by Denzel Washington) travels on foot across the country toward the west coast.

He possesses the last copy of the Bible and he believes he has heard from God, who told him to travel west, so he obeys, believing that somehow God will preserve and protect his Word. That’s why this movie should have been called “Eli’s Book” – it has nothing to do with anything he has written, as the movie’s title suggests.

During one scene in the movie, Eli stops for supplies. He encounters a man named Carnegie who has been searching for a copy of the Bible, believing he can manipulate people with it. Carnegie sends his concubine’s daughter, Solara, to seduce him, hoping Eli will willingly give up the Bible. Eli turns her down which gains Solara’s respect.

Then she sees him reading from the Bible and praying. His actions awaken a spirit of hope within her, where previously there was no hope and that prompts her to asked Eli what life was like before all the devastation.

“People had more than they needed,” Eli says. “We had no idea what was precious, what wasn’t. We threw away things people kill each other for now.”

As difficult as life can be, Eli’s analysis of life as we know it was dead on.

Sometimes, I open my deep freezer and find food I had forgotten about. Many of us have multiple copies of the Bible on our bookshelves, some of which are rarely, if ever, opened. How would our attitudes change if we lost our food, our shelter, our Bibles and our creature comforts?

Last Surviving WWI Veteran Turns 110

Local paper says America’s last surviving World War I veteran, Frank Buckles, turns 110 today. Hope somebody is capturing his story.

That’s what I tweeted and put on Facebook yesterday. And then, being curious enough to Google his name, I found out that someone did capture his story. This comes from a West Virginia television website:

A kickstarter.com campaign launched Jan. 31 with hopes of raising $150,000 for a feature-length documentary about Buckles’ life. The film, “Pershing’s Last Patriot,” is the culmination of four years of footage and interviews with the former soldier collected by [David] DeJonge [the family spokesperson and Buckles’ biographer], a portrait photographer from Grand Rapids, Mich., who began researching war veterans in 1996.

The same website says Buckles served in England and France during WWI, serving as both an ambulance driver and a prisoner-of-war escort. And amazingly, he was also a POW in a Japanese prison camp during WWII. The website goes on to say:

4.7 million American’s served in WW1 and Frank is the last voice of a generation that has slipped through our fingers without documentation and without a national memorial. Frank is the last breath and the last soul to have witnessed the Western Front of World War One.

Check out the footage of Buckles from the website:



NBC Nightly News did a story about him a while back and it captured how he felt after returning home from WWI to find that nobody even acknowledged he had been in a war:



I’m thankful that someone like David DeJonge has spent as much time as he has to listen to and record Buckles’ story. But Buckles isn’t the only elderly person with a story and DeJonge isn’t the only one with a camcorder. Most of us now have the technology to conduct video interviews with our parents and grandparents. Why not set aside some time to do so?

Two years ago, I began interviewing my mom with a digital audio recorder. We’ve done interviews about her childhood, her pets, her school years, her courtship with my dad, and we’re up to her work years. It’s been a while since we’ve done one of these interviews, but it’s time to get back to work. And now that I have a camcorder, I’m going to shoot video of the interviews as well as using my digital audio recorder.

A Country Strong Mom

Photo: Philipp K.

We sat down in the front row of the second section of the movie theater. Mom had a small popcorn and a small Diet Coke. She looked at the seat cushion pointed at the sky and seemed to wonder how she was going to manage the pop, the popcorn and the seat.

Things have changed in movie theaters since she’s been to one. She said it had probably been 15 years. It had been much longer since we went to a movie together.

“When is the last time we saw a movie together?” I said after we were both settled in. We thought about it. “Was it Rocky? That was 1976.”

“We saw Return of the Jedi,” Mom said. “I took you and some of your buddies.”

“I think you are right – 1981 maybe?” Turned out to be 1983.

Somehow, 28 years had passed. She’s never been a big moviegoer, and time just moves so quickly. Then she had a stroke in 2007. After that, she was afraid to walk in large groups of people because she wasn’t steady on her feet. But during her recovery, I kept telling her we needed to go see a movie when she felt better and she kept saying we would.

Mom is a country music fan. When I mentioned going to see Country Strong with her a couple of weeks ago, she said it would be fun. She was right.

She put her popcorn down and I held the seat down for her. After she got situated, I pulled down her arm rest and told her it had a pop holder in it. She learned that the seats rock too.

Finally, the movie started.

I watched Mom watching the movie and if felt good to see her enjoy herself. She didn’t look away from the screen. Maybe it was because the movie is about a country singer who was trying to come back and it reminded her of her own comeback. Or maybe it was because she’d forgotten how much fun the movie experience can be and she wanted to take it all in.

Afterward, as we walked to the car, we talked about the plot of the movie. We traded thoughts and opinions – both agreeing that it was a good movie. Then she mentioned The Fighter, as if to say, “Let’s do this again soon.”

And we did. I asked her if she wanted to see The Fighter, but she said she wanted to see True Grit. She’d seen the original ions ago. So True Grit it was. Afterward she said she wasn’t afraid to go to the movies anymore. And I smiled, because at the age of 74, my mom made a comeback.

Journalism is Literature in a Hurry

Photo: Katie Tegtmeyer

My dad had a small printing business. He wanted me to become a classical musician. My mother wanted me to be a novelist. They were 0-for-2. So I became a reporter. Not quite a novelist, but as we all know, journalism is literature in a hurry.

The quote is from the movie, Runaway Bride. Ike, a reporter who is doing a story about a woman named Maggie who keeps leaving grooms at the altar, is driving in a car with Maggie shortly after she had to rescue her alcoholic father again. She asks him not to write about her father, saying his drinking got worse after her mother died.

Ike, it seems, has a different sort of parental problem – he isn’t living up to his parent’s expectations, as he described in the quote above. I love the line he uses at the end, “but as we all know, journalism is literature in a hurry,” which is a quote attributed to Matthew Arnold (1822-1888), a British poet.

I don’t know the context of Arnold’s quote, but the context of Ike’s usage of it shows our natural inclination to want to live up to the expectations of our parents. Even when we don’t, we try to convince ourselves that we have in a different sort of way. Of course, just because Ike’s parents wanted him to pursue certain professions, it doesn’t mean either path was right for him. Even so, he felt the weight of their expectations.

My parents never tried to point me toward any one profession. They divorced when I was young and maybe that had something to do with them going easier on my sister and me, but I doubt it. Our family was broken and we experienced all the hardship that comes from brokenness, but both of my parents were supportive of my interests and I’m grateful for that.

With that said, I still think I know how Ike felt. A while back, I wrote a post about one of my earliest memories of wanting my dad’s approval. I was around 10 at the time and my parents had split by then. Here’s a portion of the post:

My grandmother pokes her head out of her front door asking me if I want anything to drink. I tell her not yet. I’m in the middle of game.

With sweat dripping down the sides of my face, I tap the tennis ball into my baseball glove in my grandparent’s front yard and throw my next pitch toward the steps leading up to the side door their garage. When you don’t have anybody to play baseball with, you make up your own players and you make up your own rules. In this case, the steps served as hitters. After throwing a pitch, the steps would shoot the ball back in my direction – sometimes on the ground, sometimes over the front porch awning.

If I fielded the ball cleanly and could throw and hit a nearby tree, the runner was out. If I caught the ball on the fly, the runner was out. If the ball got past me on the ground, it was a hit. If it got away from me it was a double or triple. If it went over the awning, it was a home run. I was always aware of how many ghost-runners were on base and my goal was to keep as many of them as possible from scoring.

I didn’t feel sorry for myself. I was having the time of my life. But negative thoughts can creep up on you when you play baseball by yourself. Was I good enough to play against other kids without them making fun of me? I was athletic, but overweight. Would Dad be proud of the way I could throw and catch the ball if he could see me? Was I missing out on something by not having my dad out there with me?

I had no idea.

Fast forward some 35 years. If I were in the car with Maggie and shared that story with her, I think I would have told her I never became a baseball player, but as we all know, sports writers are former athletes who know how to capture the thrill of the game.

And I envision her nodding her head and saying, “You know, your dad really would have been proud of the way you could throw and catch a ball when you were a kid. And he’d be proud of the way you write about the way other people do it now.”

The Happiness List

Photo: Joe King

Over the years, a number of variations of the bucket list have appeared and they all contain the same basic premise – make a list of things you want to accomplish, track them, and check them off as you go. It’s intentional living rather than reactional (I think I just made up a new word) living. 

I first heard about the idea in the movie, A Walk to Remember. Jamie had a list of 100 things she wanted to do before she died. Then I heard about 43 Things – a website where you list 43 things you want to do and you interact with others who are working toward the same goals. Then, of course, there was The Bucket List movie. More recently I read about The Mighty Life List. Just yesterday I read about a variation of these ideas called a Happiness List. It is similar to some of the other lists, but it also contains a twist.

This might be Rainbow Rowell overkill, but I read about the Happiness List in her latest article called New year’s disillusioned? Resolve to be happy. It is about a guy named Nicholas Schnell who chucked the idea of making an annual resolution list in favor of a happiness list – a list of stress-free items. On his list, he wrote things such as watch the original Freaky Friday with two of his friends and re-read Pride and Prejudice so he could read the zombie version.

But here’s the twist, he suggests getting friends to make lists, so on some lazy Friday night, when you can’t think of anything to do, you team up to help each other check something off your lists. If one of the items on a friend’s lists is, “try the new Italian restaurant downtown” and another friend’s list includes “check out the independent film festival,” you make a night of it and do both.

I love this idea for so many reasons.

First, for me and my friends, it would mean not going to Borders for the 43rd consecutive Friday night because we couldn’t figure out what else to do. Second, it means getting involved in activities our friends enjoy which will give us a view of who they are in their element. You can learn a lot about a person when he or she is in her element. Third, it would expose us to new things. Most new hobbies and passions begin after someone introduces us to them. I’m also thinking it would make for some great memories.

As a variation, I’m thinking it would be a good idea to list 50 items that could be done with one or more friend and 50 items that could be done individually. 

What do you think?