Tag Archives: life

April 29, 2012 · 6:08 pm

A Scout is…

Nothing like a little controversy to get me writing again…

As I have discussed occasionally in this blog, I have been involved as a dedicated Cub/Boy Scout leader for about six years. My son and I started at the earliest levels of Cub Scouts and have progressed through the program, joining the Boy Scout Troop this past November. I chose to continue on as a leader as I believe in the program and the benefits, the personal development, and the leadership skills it provides to young men as well as the volunteer adult leadership. Plus, it’s just plain FUN! It has been an amazing experience that has had a profound and lasting effect on both of us.

Today I read a disquieting article about a female Cub Scout Leader in Ohio, who was recently removed from her position for being Lesbian. This woman did nothing other than volunteer as a Den Leader for a Cub Scout Pack that her son wanted to be involved in. She did nothing other than choose to sacrifice her own personal time, something the majority of parents would have been too lazy or disinterested to commit to.  Of course, as most people are probably aware, the B.S.A. has held a longstanding policy excluding gays from participating in their program. This storyline has been replayed over and over again through the years as this topic continues to resurface and plague an otherwise wonderful and valuable program.

I won’t rehash all the details, you can read it here.

Although I disagree with this stance, I won’t give up on the Boy Scout program. I believe the benefits it provides far outweighs the downsides of this one ignorant policy. I believe myself and my fellow leaders have, and will continue to, provide a positive and influential program for the youth in our local Pack and Troop. Perhaps naively, I believe that in many cases this policy would not be… and is not… supported on a local level, it is only forced down from the National organization.  But I did feel the need to speak up, if only in the limited capacity that I am able to through this blog and through social media. I believe this is a policy that should be reevaluated and ultimately changed, especially during a period in the B.S.A.’s proud history when membership is declining and gaining financial support for the programs is challenging.

In 2000, the Supreme Court upheld the B.S.A.’s right to exclude gays from their ranks, as it is a private organization and has the right to establish its own rules.  I’m not denying the B.S.A. the right to carry on a ridiculous, archaic policy like this, but I am questioning the judgment of an organization that declares to teach young men to be Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean and Reverent.

Perhaps they need to add Discriminatory to that list.

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July 9, 2011 · 11:11 pm

Crybaby!

When did I become such a crybaby?

I know… sometimes I post stuff that might make you think I am an insensitive ass… but…

The other night we were sitting outside and my daughter was playing music on her iHome which is basically a dock for her iPod with an outside speaker.  I wasn’t really paying attention to the songs, but at one point heard pieces of a song that was mostly acoustic guitar and a nice female voice and that always tends to catch my ear.  A while later I asked her what the song was and she skipped back a few and we eventually tracked it down.

The song was “The House That Built Me” by Miranda Lambert.  My daughter played it again and I liked it because of the guitar fingerpicking, but I didn’t really listen to the words at first.  I asked her to play it again and this time listened a little closer.  It’s basically about someone that goes back to the house they grew up in as a kid.  You can listen to it if you want.  Maybe you’ve heard it already.

The song made me tear up.  Yeah, seriously, it did!  Then my daughter was trying to talk to me and I had to hide my face in my blackberry.  Of course I’d had like eight drinks so my “drunken sorority girl that’s like just been dumped by a totally hot guy she met a week ago” emotional buttons had been pushed. You’re surprised?  Go listen to the song and see if it doesn’t make cry you heartless sociopath!

Anyway, I used to be a pretty stoic guy.  I could sit and watch a sad movie and be completely untouched. My wife on the other hand would cry at everything, movies, news stories, hallmark commercials, whatever… it never took much.  Maybe that’s why we get along so well.  There’s nothing wrong with being emotional, I think its okay.  In fact, it’s probably healthy!  But, not me, I’d sit there and watch them haul “Old Yeller” into the back field and shoot him and not shed a tear.

Not anymore…

Now stuff makes me cry all the time.  Movies, books, songs, even the damn McDonalds commercial with the Apple Tree song!  In fact, I’m pretty confident that these days any time I hear sad violin music playing I am going to start to cry whether I am watching a movie or not. I’m beginning to wonder if I need to ask my doctor about Testosterone Replacement Therapy if there is such a thing or maybe have my tear ducts removed.  I try to fight it, the tears, the lip quivering, the sobbing and sniffling… but I just can’t hold it back anymore.  Now when we watch a movie with the kids my wife and I will sit there balling our eyes out and the kids look at us like, “dudes, seriously, it’s just the Sponge Bob movie, what is wrong with you two!”

I’m not sure when things changed.  I suspect it has something to do with having and raising kids and the emotional responsibilities that comes with that.  But I don’t know, I guess it’s been some kind of a growth process, something that comes with aging and seeing loved ones pass and knowing that my kids are growing up and won’t be living with us much longer.

Regardless, here I am, like a guy at an AA meeting saying “Hi, I’m Steve, and even though I have spent months and months developing this image of me being this kind of rugged, handsome Marlboro Man, on my ranch, caring for wild mountain goats and tending fences and doing other manly stuff, now I’m going to come clean.” Awhile back my family sat around one evening and watched Toy Story 3. My wife and I cried like babies!  Yep, you heard me right, TOY STORY 3!  At the end, Andy turns over all his toys to another kid.  Tears were flowing, tissues were flying, snot was dripping.  Disturbing…

After the movie I opened my Facebook account and posted “should I be concerned that I just watched Toy Story 3 and cried like a baby?”

I won’t share the responses…

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June 27, 2011 · 3:59 pm

The Patchwork Cat

One day when I was a little kid, my brothers and I were sitting around the house bored on a gloomy, rainy summer day.  My Mom, being one of those Moms that always had something for us to do, pulled out three plaster cats, the kind you can buy at the craft store, to paint.  She set us up in the kitchen at a table covered with newspapers, a bunch of paint and paint brushes and water to rinse them in.  “Have fun”, she said.

I was five years old at the time, I hadn’t started kindergarten yet and my painting skills were about what you’d expect from a five-year old.  My brothers on the other hand, were respectively three and four years older than me and although still in elementary school, old enough to be able to know how a cat should be painted. So we painted and painted and painted.

My oldest brother painted his mostly black, like a Halloween cat, with some silver highlights here and there.  He spent most of the time on the eyes using yellows and greens and whites and diligently adding all the fine details that you’d see when you look at a cat face to face.  He painted the inside of the ears a mix of black and pink, just like you’d see on a black cat. He painted the claws.

My other brother painted his orange and black.  No, these were not jungle animals, they were cheap craft store domesticated cats.  But he made his look like a fierce tiger with crisp stripes down the sides that ended in sharp points.  He also painted the eyes, although not quite as realistically as the Halloween cat, and the ears and the claws.

I painted mine… red and blue and yellow and green and purple and orange and brown and white and black and…

A red splotch here, a blue smear there, a purple blot here, a red smudge there, an orange stroke here, a green splash there.

Then my brothers teased me.  They teased me because my cat was all different colors.  They said “it doesn’t look like a cat.”  They said “cats aren’t red and blue and green and purple.”  They teased and teased and teased and then I started to cry and I ran to my room.  Yep, I did… I cried my eyes out.  Of course, I was only five!

A little while later, my Mom called me back out.  She said “I have something to show you.”  So I came back out to the kitchen and there was my cat sitting in the same place I had left it.

But it was different.

Around each and every splotch and smear and blot and smudge and stroke and splash, my Mom had painted tiny little lines and stitch marks. It looked like a cat that had been sewn together with little pieces of colored fabric.  She said, “what do you think? It’s a patchwork cat.”  It was amazing and I thought it was the coolest cat in the world at that moment.  My brothers actually kind of liked it too.  Sorry, I don’t have a photograph to show you, you’ll have to use your imagination.

My Mom kicked ass as a Mom.  I couldn’t have asked for one any better.  We lost her to brain cancer back in 2002.  I’m not here to mourn, but instead to celebrate. Not for any particular reason, this story just happened to pop into my head the other day and I thought I’d write it down.  Perhaps one of these days I’ll try to turn it into a real kid’s story and dedicate it to her.  She’d like that.

Wherever she is now, I can only imagine she has a cat with her… a cat that’s all sewn together out of pieces of fabric.

A patchwork cat.

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March 23, 2011 · 10:13 pm

Father and Son

To all of you reading this for the first time, although it sounds as if I may be referring to my father thankfully he is still around although admittedly with his share of health problems. I did lose my mother to cancer at age 60 back in 2002 so I have experienced the trauma of losing a parent early in life.  I am trying to conceptualize the lifelong relationship between a father and a son. That could be me with my father as he gets up there in age, my son and I, or anyone of us. As I was writing this I guess I was thinking more in terms of my son’s relationship with me and the events he will experience and possibly have to deal with as he grows older.  Whether this makes you smile or cry, I imagine most of you will relate at some level.  Thanks for reading.

waaaah
Da da
Daddy
Daddy read to me?
Daddy I love you!
Daddy wanna play catch?
Hey Dad, thanks for coaching my team.
Dad I’m so mad that we lost!
Dad are you coming to my game tonight?
Dad can you drive me to the movies?
Dad I have a girlfriend.
Dad can I talk to you about birth control?
Dad how did you know when you were first in love?
Dad when I’m at away at college I promise to call once a week.
Dad I got an A in my chemistry class.
Dad I met a girl that I really like.
Dad I’ve been accepted into the junior year abroad program!
Dad I’m nervous about graduating and finding a job.
Dad thanks for helping me pay for college.
Dad let’s go grab a few beers somewhere.
Dad I got a really great job offer.
Dad I’m getting married!
Dad they want to promote me but it means moving away.
Dad we finally closed on that house we love.
Dad were going to have a baby.
Dad its a boy!
Dad how’d you and Mom survive these toddler years?
Dad how about you and mom coming for Christmas this year, the boys would love to see you, its been awhile.
Dad do you think you and Mom can make it to the graduation in June?
Dad congratulations on your retirement, you deserve it.
Dad are you keeping busy?
Dad I miss you, maybe we can come visit this summer.
Dad, Mom said you haven’t been feeling too well.
Dad we’ll be on a plane tomorrow to come see you.
Dad you’ve lost a lot of weight.
Dad you look so old to me.
Dad thank you for everything you’ve done to make my life so special.
Dad you’ve lived a great life and accomplished so much.
Dad I’ll be sure that Mom’s okay.
Dad its okay to let go.
Dad I love you.
Dad everyone in attendance today is here to honor your life. You were a blessing to so many people, a wonderful husband to Mom, a caring father to your children and a friend to so many.
Dad we will miss you.

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