Thoughts on Teenage Boys

It is often the best payback for one's parents to see their kids grow up and have the same headaches with their kids as we put the parents through. I know my Dad laughs when I tell him stories about breaking up fights and things being broken by roughhousing with our two teenagers. I can also see my Mom laughing in heaven as I struggle with the vagaries of the teenage psyche. I went through it with Jennifer, and although I'd certainly say I'd take the headaches associated with a 15 year-old boy than the mind-numbing problems that a 15 year-old girl can dish out, when you are in the middle of it, it can certainly give you pause. Take yesterday.......

We have been having problems with the toilet in the boy's bathroom. When you have two six-footers that eat like those two, it's not a shock that the mandated low-flow toilets in California might have some difficulty staying ahead of the curve. This toilet. though, has had trouble flushing a kleenex without clogging up. This is a major problem, because when the boys have business to attend to they have made a beeline to my bathroom by the remote bedroom which serves as my office. That won't do and I won't get into specifics as I'm already walking a thin line here on this topic.

I finally tired of the paint-peeling intrusions into my personal space and called a plumber. The first plumber took a look at the line and the flush pattern and said that it was simply a weak flush and that the toilet should be replaced. I said, "Thanks....NEXT!" Yesterday a plumber from Bonney Plumbing showed up. They were in the news last week as an Alzheimer's sufferer pulled a gun on one of their plumbers and held him hostage until he could talk the guy into letting him go out to his truck, where he called his office and they sent out the police. So, my sense of humor lead me to comment that the plumber could check the toilet and that I had no small arms in the house. As my luck would have it, the plumber was the guy held hostage! He did a bit of a more thorough job of checking the plumbing and pointed out by use of a mirror, that the toilet roll dispenser bar had lodged up in the neck of the toilet. The boys had told me that they'd "lost" the other roller and I bought them a replacement. Little did I know that these two geniuses had flushed the old one. As most people know, the roller bar has a spring and when it got flushed the spring contracted and then sprung open lodging it in the neck of the plumbing of the toilet. The plumber told me that it would be $83 to have him remove it with an auger, or it would be $177 to dismantle the toilet. I can buy a new toilet for about $170, so I told him to try the auger. He gave it three minutes and two tries and said, "No go." I told him that I'd dismantle the toilet and replace the bowl if need be. I asked him what I owed him, figuring a house call of $35. He called the office and they said that I'd authorized the $83. I said, "No. I'd pay $83 IF they could retrieve it by auger, but not $83 for a token effort. We argued, I told him I was beginning to see the Alzheimer sufferer's point of view. He said he'd reduce it to $75, which I paid under protest and immediately sent a letter to the State Contractor's License Board with a written complaint regarding predatory pricing tactics. We'll see what comes of that.

So, there I was out $75 with a toilet roll spindle hopelessly lodged in the neck of the toilet bowl and a particularly warm feeling toward my two stepsons. I rounded them up and got my toolbox and we went about tearing out the toilet and attempting to dislodge the roller. We worked with an auger and a coat hanger for about 45 minutes and I finally gave up. A new toilet bowl is about $65 and my time is worth more than that. Darla and I took a run to the Home Depot and bought a new bowl and a wax ring to mount it. I had David set about to take the tank off the old bowl and remove the seat and lid and I unpacked the new bowl. David got the seat and lid off, but couldn't loosen the tank. I turned it on end for the umpteenth time to loosen the bolts and out dropped the roller. I'd completely taken apart the packaging of the new bowl and as luck would have it, now I didn't need it. Oy.

I ended up reinstalling the old bowl, repackaging the new one and will return it today. Teenagers, you've gotta love 'em, because who else would?

It is the final week of 2002. It is a year that I'm not too sad to see fade into memory. It has been a good year from a personal perspective and a tough year from a professional standpoint. I exorcised some demons from my mind this year and gained a better perspective on life and my family and how the richness of my life is in direct proportion to, and because of, my family. I learned not to be so uptight about things and let the Obsessive-Compulsive part of my Type-A personality take a back seat in my life and I'm a better person for it. That's not to say that I don't staighten up a room when I walk into it, but I have learned to relax when the boy's rooms or bathroom aren't as clean as I'd like to see them. I discovered that these rooms have doors and that I can close them. What a discovery! It borders on an epiphany actually. I think the boys and Darla would still say that I'm one of the most rigid people that they know, but at least they can say it with a smile on their faces now.

Work has been a struggle. I've been moved out of Underwriting and into Marketing. Sort of a move from someone who actually does something to a person who talks about it. I have a BS degree in Marketing and I've had to use the BS quite a bit as the insurance operation struggles with profitability and issues of corporate restructuring. Our rating as an insurance company has taken a hit this year and the direction that our AVP of Underwriting is taking the company is in direct opposition to my philosophy and training. There is a bit of a power struggle going on and it has been nothing short of exasperating at times. The problem is that my blood is in Underwriting and it is hard for me to sit back and watch the dismantling of a program that I helped build. On a good note, the paychecks continue to cash and I do work out of my home with no direct supervision. I continue to manage a team of marketing reps and direct the agency management responsibilities of the company. The economy is poised for a comeback, our parent company has shown a consistent pattern of profitability and the insurance portion of the company has had two straight quarters of profitability and we are on target to run an underwriting profit for the fiscal year ending March 31, 2003. And I have my health and sanity, so all is not lost.

Christmas 2002 has come and gone. The packages have all been opened, the wrappings secured in the trash and the noise and excitement of another celebration of our Saviour's birth has passed into history. I talked to Jennifer in Georgia early on Christmas morning and wished her well. She was off to a home off base for a quiet celebration with friends. The boys came over at about eleven on Christmas morning and we opened gifts. Daniel handed me a Snicker's Cruncher bar and I opened it and was enjoying the peanuty taste when he said, "Ken don't eat another bite!" He walked over and showed me little red worms all over his candy bar. I looked down at my half eaten bar and gagged. I saw no worms, but imagined the critters crawling all over my intestines. I gulped my eggnog and went and gargled mouthwash and basically felt ill for a few minutes. Don't buy the Snicker's Cruncher. The extra ingredient apparently is live worms.

Darla and I bought David a new watch, a weight bar and weights, and lots of new clothes. Daniel got several new games and a pinball machine as well as new clothes. The clothes at this point go over bigger with David, who is quite image conscious as the big athlete on campus. He is at basketball practice as I write this and I have to run over and pick him up later. Daniel is less particular about his looks and has to be reminded to brush his teeth and comb his hair. He is thirteen. Need I say more?

I did get out and play golf last week on the 26th. We played the newest course in the area, Empire Ranch in Folsom, CA. The weather was windy and showery and we got soaked and cold and basically had a blast. I shot an 87 in horrible conditions and look forward to getting a shot at that course when the weather is benign. One of my resolutions for 2003 was to get my handicap index into single digits (I was a 10.5 in December). Well, the January indexes are out and I've dropped to 9.9 so my resolutions to date are secured. I have a tee time tomorrow at Woodcreek Golf Course in Roseville and hope that the rain breaks and that I can go attack that layout with some friends. I have a tee time on Saturday in Sacramento as well.

New Year's celebration this year will be with friends in Roseville. We don't like to travel on Amateur night and will be in the outer neighborhood hoisting a glass to the New Year and will be in our spa by 1 A.M. The boys are with us and will join us (though not in the spa). New Year's Day will see us in game mode again as our friend's Rob and Cheryl and their family join us for a day of football, cards, dice, dominoes, etc. Darla will likely have a puzzle going on the dining room table and we will ring in the New Year with friends and family.

I hope your celebrations are happy and healthy and, above all, SAFE. Happy New Year to all.

September 11, 2001 Part II
(see Part I below)

Santa Barbara.

The reason for my flight to Phoenix and subsequent trip to Santa Barbara was to terminate my underwriter in that territory. The decision had been made, the paperwork completed and all that remained was for me to show up at his home office, inform him of his demise and collect the $7,000 in equipment that we provide to our employees in the field. This equipment consists of an $800 digital camera, an $800 HP printer/scanner and a $5400 laptop computer with peripherals (ISDN bit surfer, zip drive, extra batteries, monitor and cases, etc).

So I awoke Wednesday morning 9/12/01 with my car at the closed airport, a 24-foot U-Haul truck on the side of my house and a burning need to get to Santa Barbara to close the deal with my soon to be ex-underwriter. I caled my Sacramento Underwriter, Pete Morrison, and asked Pete to meet me at the U-Haul center in Sac, so I could return the truck and have him drive me to the airport to see if I could retrieve my car. I repacked my suitcase, said goodbye to Darla and boarded the big orange beast for the last time.

I met Pete at the U-Haul center and I turned in the truck. The guy who received the truck asked how my move was. I told him that I never cracked the back of the truck and explained about the flight and Vegas. The guy looked at me stangely and said, "Dude, why didn't you get a rental car?" I slapped my head and said, "Why didn't I think of that." We finished the paperwork and I moved my bag to Pete's truck and we headed to the airport. Within a couple of mles of the airport we saw a sign that said in flashing lights: "Airport closed, official vehicles only." Ouch. I hadn't anticipated problems getting my car back. We sat in a long line of cars being questioned at the airport entrance and watched as virtually ALL of them were turned back. We got to the front and we were interrogated by a CHP Lieutenant. He listened to my story of whoa and said that it sounded like I'd been through enough. He couldn't let Pete drive onto the airport, but that he'd have one of his officers drive me to my car. I said goodbye to Pete, picked up my car, and paid my parking fee (strangely enough, although the airport was closed, they still had workers in the exit booths of the parking lots). I drove out of the airport and began the seven hour drive down the coast to Santa Barbara. I called Bob Magruder, my 68 year old underwriter, and told him that I'd be there tomorrow morning and took off.

Santa Barbara in September is a jewel to behold and my hotel room near the beach left me with the smell of the ocean and the sound of seagulls drifting overhead. I awoke Thursday morning with an overwhelming feeling of tiredness. I'd been on cruise control for two days and it was catching up with me. I dragged myself to breakfast and called my boss. We arranged that I would pick up the unbooked business from him prior to telling him of his fate and once I had that in hand, I'd call home office and hand Bob the phone and they'd cut his throat. I'd then collect the equipment and be on my way home, hopefully in time to see David's Freshman football game that night. Oh, the grand plans of men and mice.

I arrived at Bob's little beach home in Carpinteria at 9 a.m. as planned. He opened the door with a pan in his hands and a turkey neck being grilled. I asked him if he was having a late breakfast and he laughed and said, "No. The bone is for the dog." (Who gives their dog turkey necks?!) His house was unusually dirty and when I walked down the hall to his office, I was appalled to see trash strewn on the floor. He looked embarassed and said that they'd had company and hadn't had a chance to clean up. There were empty boxes of spaghetti and cereal and newspapers scattered alll over the wood floor of his office. I still don't know what the problem was, but people tell me that a sign of dementia is unhealthful conditions in a home. I'd been in his house six months earlier and it was immaculate. Anyhow, I collected the new business applications as well as inspections and quotes that he had outstanding. My ruse was to inventory his office. I held them and phoned my boss, Ray, in home office. I told Ray I had the paperwork and handed the phone to Bob. He listened intently and suddenly released a torrent of invectives at my boss, questioning his geniality and threatening to file a wrongful termination suit and an age discrimination lawsuit. He slammed down the phone....and there I was standing in his kitchen, feeling a bit silly at that moment.

Bob said, "I guess you'll want the equipment." I said yes and produced an inventory and we began to gather the equiment. Suddenly the light changed in his eyes and he said, "Screw you! Get the Hell out of my house!" I tried to calm him down and said, "Bob, you know I have to collect the equipment." He said, sure, but I have an opportunity to put it together. Come back at five this afternoon." I said no way, that I was driving back to Roseville that day and that I'd give him until noon to get the equipment together. He said that it was trash day and that he'd pile it up in the gutter and that if the trash truck took it, it wasn't his fault. Further, I was to immediately get out of his house or he'd sik his pit bull on me. I'd seen a little miniature terrier running around and couldn't help but smile. I left and immediately called my boss.

Ray said, "Boy that was brutal!" I told him he should have been standing in that kitchen and filled him in on where we were. He told me to stay on the street for the next two and a half hours and get the equipment precisely at noon. We laughed about the pit bull threat. I went and got some water and found a men's room and then took up residence on his street under a tree, about five doors down from his house. I stopped laughing about the pit bull thirty minutes later when his grandson arrived with a pit bull. I sat reading the paper and listening to the radio and saw the pit bull viciously bite a neighborhood collie who happened by the yard. I decided then that the local police would escort me onto the property while I collected our equipment. I called and talked to the Santa Barbara County Sherriff's department, explained my dilemma and asked that an escort meet me at noon. They were cool to the idea until I mentioned the pit bull and the threat. Bob finally moved the equipment to his front porch at eleven-thirty and the police escort arrived in a brand new Explorer Sport 4-door truck used for beach patrols. The officer was about 6'5" inches and well built. He pulled up to my car and said, "Let's do this."

I backed into Bob's driveway and the officer pulled his truck up onto the sidewalk. The grandson saw us coming and grabbed the dog and put him in the backyard. I walked up the front entrance and yelled to Bob through the open window that I was there to pick up the equipment. He yelled that I had "a F-----g Cop" with me and burst through the front door carrying a cordless phone. He ran by me and stood nose-to-Adam's apple with the cop and started yelling that he had no right to be on his property, blah, blah, blah. I took that opportunity to start loading my trunk. I got three items put in before Bob noticed what I was doing and told me that I couldn't touch another thing before signing his inventory and acknowledging receipt. I told him I wouldn't sign anything before I'd filled my trunk, closed the lid and was ready to leave. The cop agreed and that's what I did.

I got out of there, learning a life's lesson. I've unfortunately handled five job terminations since that day and never again have I gone to the employee's home. I've terminated them by phone and then met them in a public place to pick up the equipment. Live and learn.

September 11th touched me in ways that perhaps others couldn't understand. I never really sat and absorbed the media coverage, seeing those images over and over, because I was on the move and perhaps I'm lucky that I wasn't scarred. That day and those events took a tremendous toll on our national sense of security. Jennifer is in the Army today because of the impact of those events on her and I'm proud to be her Dad. God Bless America.

September 11, 2001 Part I

For those of you who don't know, I had the unfortunate experience of being on a commercial airliner on 9/11 during the tragedy that occurred in New York City, Pennsylvania and Washington, DC. I boarded an America West Airbus A319 in Sacramento, CA at 5:45 a.m. for the 6:10 a.m. flight to Phoenix, AZ. I was flying to Phoenix in part to collect a final paycheck for an underwriter in Santa Barbara that was being terminated due to budget cuts at my company and his own incompetence as an underwriter. I was to be in Phoenix on 9/11 and then catch another flight from Phoenix to Santa Barbara on 9/12. I settled into my first class leather clubseat and tried to get some extra sleep. We took off about 6:15 bound for Phoenix and the lights were turned off and the only sound in the cabin was light conversation and the rustling of morning papers mixed with the aroma of coffee.

Half an hour into the flight, the pilot came on the intercom and informed us that a "jet" had flown into the World Trade Center and that one of the towers was being evacuated. We weren't told if the jet was a military jet or a commercial airliner. Conversation buzzed in the cabin and I shared with my seatmate that I had worked for six weeks in the WTC with Dean Witter. Approximately, 15 minutes later, the captain came back on the intercom and informed us that a second "jetliner" had hit the second tower of the WTC and that the FAA had ordered all commercial flights to land at the closest available airport. He wasn't sure if we would head back to Fresno or fly on to Las Vegas. He came back on a few minutes later and informed us that one of the towers of the WTC had collapsed and that a third plane had hit the pentagon. He also told us that we were cleared to land in Las Vegas. We were in a plane at 10,000 feet and the world seemed to be coming to an end. I shared with my seatmate that it was "impossible" that one of the towers had collapsed and that the captain had misinformation. I'd stood on the observation deck of the WTC and looked out to Manhattan and looked at the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island and a tower of that size collapsing was unimaginable to me.

We landed about 7:15 a.m. in Las Vegas and the airport was utter chaos with people trying to line up rental cars and the line for taxis stretching out for a mile. I called my office and let them know where I was and that I couldn't arrange a rental car. My boss directed me to get to a corporately owned U-Haul Center and then call them back. My company is owned by the same holding company that owns U-Haul. I stood in line for a cab with the multitude and tried to calm down a marketing rep for Johnson and Johnson. She was freaking out and her husband was driving from Dallas to pick her up in Vegas. Most of the detainees were trying to arrange hotel accomodations and I remember thinking that with a terrorist hitting major cities, that I wouldn't want to be in Los Angeles or San Francisco or New York City and there I was in a city that has close to a million people close to the strip at any one time. DUH! I called Darla and let her know that I was safe and that I was heading to a U-Haul center.

I finally worked my way to the front of the line and asked the cabbie to take me to a U-Haul center. He asked which one and I could only stare at him. I asked him to take me to the largest center and he said he knew one. We drove for miles and he finally pulled into Ed's Rental Center, which also offered U-Hauls. I asked Ed where the main U-Haul center was and we proceeded to that location. The cab fare was $35 and I handed over the $40 that I had in my wallet and asked for a receipt. It was at the rental center that I first saw the images that the rest of the nation and the world was glued to. Both towers had fallen by the time I got to the center and I was in shock at the gravity of the disaster. I got to the counter and was told that all trucks were booked. I asked for a phone and called home office. A U-Haul VP got on the line and told the manager of the center to "find" a truck for me and make it a priority. He located one across town and offered to drive me there in his own car, a rattletrap 15-year old Toyota Corolla with a broken rear window (How much do they pay these U-haul guys?).

The only truck available was a 24-footer which got about 5 miles to the gallon of gas. It had air conditioning and a stereo and I was told to get home and not proceed to Phoenix. I was also told that my daughter was frantic and trying to get ahold of me. I called her at the car dealer she was working for and told her that I was safe and that I'd be home that night. I left on my ten-hour drive through the state of Nevada back to Roseville. The truck was newer and was out of service for an oil change. It drove fine, but it cost me $55 to fill the tank each time and I stopped for gas twice on the ride home. I listened to the radio and heard reports from each of the crash sites and hurt for America and for our freedom. I gained a new respect for George W Bush and for how he handled himself during the crisis and I'm proud to say that I voted for him and continue to support him in his fight to eradicate terror in this world.

I arrived home at 11:30, tired and scared and happy to have Darla there to talk to and to give and receive comfort from.

Up next......Santa Barbara.

It is Monday....so, it must be time to update my blog.

Today, I awoke to Sunshine and a light dusting of frost on the grass and rooftops. It is always nice to see a bright blue sky and the frost burns off quickly. I especially enjoy watching the steam rise as the sun hits the frozen fence behind the koi pond. This is the closest that we'll get to a white Christmas in Northern California, so we enjoy it and hum a Bing Crosby tune as we head off to work on a Monday morning on the week of Christmas.

The phone rang this morning as I was about to climb into the shower. I'd bade my wife a good day as she headed off to work 15 minutes before and I almost let the answering machine deal with the interruption, but something caused me to answer. It was Darla. She'd run out of gas on her way to work. She likes to play life in a danger zone, flirting with the red line on her gas tank before finally giving in and refilling the tank. She had told me she was low on gas on Thursday night and still hadn't gassed up. She likes to give Kramer a run for his money on the "E" line (Seinfeld fans will get the reference). At any rate, I hauled out my gas can and went to rescue the fair damsel. She had dropped the car off near the city employees lot in Roseville and, as these scenarios play out, her car phone died when she tried to call me. She walked about a mile to the closest store and called me from the pay phone. I picked her up and drove to the car. We had a dickens of a time getting the car started after I put about a gallon and a half of gas in the tank. Darla tried to start it and I was afraid she'd flood it as she cranked away at the ignition. I got in and pumped the gas pedal and kept pumping it as I turned the ignition. It finally caught and purred to life. I followed her to the gas station and exchanged her dead cell phone for my active one and bid her a better day after refilling my gas can. Quite a start to a Monday morning. I returned home and jumped into a hot shower and washed away the effects of the icy morning from my body.

Our weekend was fast and furious as usual. David had another basketball tournament, although the winner of the last tournament was not in attendance so payback was not an option. Woodcreek, David's team, managed to win the tourney this time around in grand fashion, starting with a 62-32 drubbing of the tournament host and finishing with a 57-47 win over the runner-up. They won all three games that they played and are really coming together as a team. David played well throughout the tourney and has established himself as the starter at small forward. Perhaps, that's why we are winning, David is the starter at "small" Forward at 6'3". Our Center is 6'5" and our Power Forward is 6'4" and about 220 pounds. They play another tournament next weekend that is hosted by the team that beat them in the first tournament, so payback will be an option.

I saw the first two games, but had to miss the final. I've been fighting a cold all week and decided to stay home Saturday night and rest. I took Thursday morning off after being up a good part of Wednesday night hacking and coughing. We had a cold front roll in on Thursday and it rained off and on through Saturday night. I'm starting to feel better, but this is a slow process. I told Darla that I'd rest Saturday night so that I could go to her Mom and Dad's house for a Christmas dinner last night.

We did go to Linden last night. Darla's Mom and Dad live on ten acres in the walnut groves of Linden, east of Stockton, CA. They have a nice home surrounded by walnuts, almonds and cherries. Darla's dad, Earl, is retired from the construction trade and now farms for a living with both walnuts and almonds that are bought by the local packing sheds. It is a different world and my bright white sneakers don't have a place in that world. I still remember sitting in their living room visiting with them when Darla and I were courting and Earl jumping up, grabbing his rifle and shooting a squirrel off the enclosure around the propane tank on his side yard. That'll get the attention of a city boy in a fat hurry. We enjoyed a meal of ham and all of the fixin's and then played dominoes after dinner. Earl and Frances have had visitors, his sister from Idaho, and she taught him the "Mexican Train" game, which is an ethnically insensitive game whereby you attempt to unload your tiles before your competitors and supposedly you are to make a "woo-woo" sound when you win. It looked like a Chinese fire drill to me. Ooops, now I'm being ethnically insensitive.

I haven't had a chance to play any golf since last week, but have two games set up for Thursday and Friday this week and I hope the blasted rain stays away. I wish all of you a healthy and an enjoyable Christmas and I will add to this later. Ken

Finally, I see blue sky peeking out of the clouds above. We have just endured four straight days of heavy rain, winds and storms. The Roseville Golf Club tournament was usurped by the driving rains of yesterday. Luckily, my club had our Christmas party on Thursday and the board went out and played golf that morning. I'm the Handicap Chairman and I shot a 78 at Woodcreek, that included an even par 36 on the back nine...and the guys owed me some moolah at the end of the round. I'm at the point in my golf life that the score is more important than winning money, so the cash was a bonus. I just walked out in the back yard and saw that one of my goldfish in the backyard pond was a victim of the storm. We have about 80 fish in the pond and this is just the second that I've lost in three years.

The storm also caused some water damage at my rental home in Galt. The tenant called to inform me that they have a leak in the laundry room that is coming from the ceiling, draining through the cabinet, along the wall and onto the dryer. I called that in to my homeowners carrier this morning and they will be out there hopefully by tomorrow to survey the damage.

When it rains, it pours...and that is a sad pun at this point. I took the Explorer in to have the damage estimated from the garage door incident. I was WAY off on my estimate of $1800. The actual cost is $1414.72. They have to replace the window, repaint and re-install the wiper assembly. The job will take three days and I take the rig in on January 6th for the repairs.

Our weekend was soggy and spent indoors. David had a basketball tournament at Roseville High School and they ended up taking second place in the three day tournament with their only loss coming in the championship game..where they lost 55-54 on a last second layup. We had a 54-52 lead with 12 seconds left. They got the ball in to their best shooter and David breathed on the guy and drew a foul ( I think the ref anticipated a foul). The play was set by our coach to double on their best shooter as soon as he got the ball, but before we could rotate another defender to him, he drew the foul. He made the first shot, missed the second, but we didn't box out and they scored on a layup. We had a final try for the win, but the shot was short. David took the loss hard and said it was his fault, but it wasn't. We didn't box out on the free throw and really David didn't foul the kid. As an athlete, he took the loss hard. It looked like we won the game, but it wasn't to be. It is a character building loss....or that's the cliche at least.

Darla and I went out Saturday afternoon with Alicia, her sister, and saw the movie "A Big Fat Greek Wedding". For those of you who have missed this cinematic treat, go to the theater while it is still on the big screen. It is a hilarious portrayal of life in a Greek family that has emigrated to the US. Take someone you love and prepare to laugh until you cry. The movie was written by a Greek actress who had trouble getting parts because she is...um, not a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty. She wrote the movie as a play, ran it in Los Angeles and Rita Wilson happened to see it and bought the film rights. Rita is Greek and saw a winner. The actress who wrote the play stars in the movie and it is a treat.

I talked to Jennifer this weekend. She is being promoted today to E-3, Private First Class in a ceremony in her batallion. The commander will replace her medals on her collar with the PFC designation and then she has to perform 10 times her rank in pushups (30). It is a right of passage. Her roomate is being promoted to E-4, Specialist at the same time and will have to perform forty pushups. Congratulations to the soldiers. Jen will be in Augusta over Christmas and will be sadly missed here at home. Her e-mail is iimor4unklsam@msn.com for anyone who wants to send her a message. I'm proud of her accomplishments. She will be going to Arizona in January for another nine weeks of fibre optics installation training at an Air Base outside of Tuscon. She is looking forward to getting out of the ice and cold of Southern Georgia and into the sun of Arizona. Send her a note and wish her well.

That is the news for now. I hope you all are doing well and prepared for the celebration of Christ's birth next week.

Monday seems to be the day that I update this running dialogue of life with the Lyon's here in California. This weekend was hectic and harried and I wish I had a few more days to rest from my weekend. David played in his second JV basketball game on Friday night. The regular center had twisted his ankle and David, as is his wont, stepped in from his small forward position to pick up the slack and he had his best overall game since he began competitive basketball. He scored 15 of his team's 61 points, had eleven rebounds and scored a key three pointer in the second quarter to put his team in the lead to stay. David is a natural leader and his coaches love him because he is never afraid to take on a new position or to have the team lean on him when times are tight. It is a joy to watch him grow and mature as an athlete and as a man.

Darla and I had a little incident with the new SUV this weekend. When we returned home on Friday night from David's game and a delicious Chinese Food meal, and as I was entering the house with my hands full of stuff, I accidentally hit the button for the alarm on the truck. It began honking and flashing and generally turning a quiet neighborhood into South Central LA. The sound of that alarm in a closed garage was deafening! I scrambled to turn the blasted commotion off and hit every button on my key fob to no avail. I finally inserted the key into the ignition and the cacophony finally subsided. The next morning I had some work to catch up on as I'm leaving for Santa Barbara this afternoon. Darla and the boys decided to dress the house for Christmas and hang ornaments on the tree, etc. (Actually, Darla decided and they had no choice in the operation). She went into the garage and opened the electric garage door opener and screamed. My office is just down the hall from the garage and I bolted out to see what was wrong. Apparently, in my frenzy the night before to silence the deafening alarm, I'd hit the button for the pop-up window on the rear of the Explorer and it had opened and as the garage door raised, a bolt head caught the edge of the casing of the glass door and tore a hole right through the casing. The hole is at the bottom of the door and is about the size of my thumb...but I will get it repaired. We have a $500 deductible and they will likely have to replace the whole window. I'll take it in when I get back from SB, but I'm guessing $1,800. I'll let you know. This, by the way, is all my fault. I've already drawn a line on the wall, so that I can be sure to clear the garage door if the hatch window ever accidentally opens again. I guess I'm closing the barn door a little late.

Saturday night we ordered pizza and watched two movies, "The Rookie" starring Dennis Quaid and "Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Motherhood" or something like that. The boys and I enjoyed The Rookie, a baseball flick and endured the YA YA show, which is the epitomy of a chick flick. Not bad, but a little too much whining for me. If I want to hear whining, I'll just bring out my bath towel and show it to Darla. I have yet to replace it. While we were watching the movie, Darla got up to turn on the Christmas lights on the tree and kicked over my soda, which was sitting on the floor at the base of the sofa. She let me know what she thought of my choice of placement of my beverage as she mopped up the mess. Again, 100% my fault.

We went to church yesterday prior to my settling in for a day of NFL football on satellite. We adopted a young boy as his Christmas Angel. His name is Josiah Pete , he's 11 years old and lives in Stockton. His father is incarcerated in the state penal system and I only ask you to pray for this young man and hope that he can break the chain of crime that envelops his family. We are buying him a winter coat and some action figures for Christmas.

Things are good with us here in Nor Cal. The weather is awesome. Daniel continues to grow. He is a backup center on his eighth grade basketball team and has a gas powered scooter that has become an obsession of his. He tools to school daily on it..actually riding it to his Grandma's house, who lives close to his junior high and walking to school from there. His Grandma likes it because she gets to see him every day. Daniel likes it, because he looks cool on his scooter.

Well, that's it. Stay calm during the holiday season and as stress enters your life, remember that Jesus Christ died for us, was hanged on a cross and he rose again and sits in heaven as our Saviour. Get to know him, he's the best and most loyal friend you'll ever know.

Just another Manic Monday. Today is one of those bright blue autumn days, where you almost feel that if you look straight up and strain your eyes, you could make out heaven. There is not a cloud in the sky and not a breath of wind in the air.

Thanksgiving has come and gone and my shadow has widened and I don't think it has anything to do with the rotation of the earth and how it turns on it's axis. We spent Thanksgiving Day at Quail Lakes Baptist Church in Stockton with Darla's extended family on her Father's side. There were numerous cousins and Aunts and Uncles, not to mention too many second cousins to even attempt to keep track of names and who belonged to whom, etc. There were 55 of us in all. We had the kitchen, a tv room, a dining room and the gymnasium at our disposal. Our boys were able to play basketball and use up the full allotment of energy that God gives young people. David was able to play one-on-one basketball with one of Darla's second cousin's husbands. The guy is 22 and has some hops. David represented well on the court and had a few nice moves. The guys tried to get me to play with them along with another 30-year old cousin or husband of a cousin or who knows? My funny bone has a bad cramp in it so I had to beg off. I was never a basketball player on my best day and unless the basketball game that I'm being called into involves spelling something like the word "Horse", I'lll generally take a pass.

We all ate much turkey and all the trimmings with pie for dessert and much of it was "laid to waist" as they say. After the gym was swept, the kitchen cleaned and tidied up and the dining room had it's floor properly mopped, one of the aunts decided that before we all left to our own homes and lives for another two years, the brothers and sisters should have their pictures taken. Darla and I had bought a new Nikon camera for the holidays and this was pressed into my hands by Darla and I was asked to snap pictures as Darla was working her Mom's camera. I'd just opened a can of Root Beer and as I struggled with the new camera to find the on switch and see something through the lens, the gathered brothers and sisters began to chuckle. I looked down to see a spreading stain on my shirt and felt the cold sweetness of the soda begin to permeate the cloth and make contact with my skin. I was able to lean forward and keep the sticky mess from invading my Docker pants, but a small puddle was created at my feet and the hot warmth of embarassment crowned my face. Leave it to me to get a good smile out of the assembled posers.

Darla and I took a ride in our new SUV up into the gold country on Friday. I had several insurance inspections to do in Auburn and Placerville and we drove the old Highway 49 through the town of Coloma, where gold was discovered in California back in the 1840's. We had a nice day and stopped for lunch along the way and enjoyed the sunshine on a great Fall day.

I went and played golf on Saturday and shot a smooth 80. I took my wife to dinner that night, already feeling lucky. Life is good. Hope your holiday was as good as ours.

Thanksgiving Day. A time to reflect on the riches in our lives and to pause to give thanks to the Lord for the blessings that have been bestowed in our lives. I give thanks for my wife and family. I give thanks for the freedom that we have in this country to pursue our own way with limited intrusion by our government. I give thanks for the many friends and acquaintances that touch my life daily. I give thanks for the opportunity to gather with friends and family today and celebrate all that has enriched my life and to give thanks to our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, for all that I do and all that I am. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.

I did a real "husband" thing recently. My wife loves to decorate the house and she enjoys color and texture and she has the real right brain thing going on. She is the creative one and I'm the person who thrives on order and the pursuit of perfection in an unperfect world. Darla bought some new bathroom towels recently and changed the look of our master bath with new rugs as well. The theme changed from green and burgundy to dark and medium blue. I got the medium blue bath towel to use along with the dark blue towel that sits with it for looks (not to be used except in an extreme emergency).

I was showering the other morning and noticed that the shower had a small spot of fungus that was starting in the grout of the tile and I decided to blast it with a shot of Tile-X. While I had the bottle, I went ahead and gave the shower a good spraying and wiped down the tiles. Unfortunately, I was wearing the new medium blue towel and rubbed my backside across the tile as I was getting in to the shower to wipe down the walls. My new medium blue towel is now medium blue with a large bleached-out spot on the back. When I realized my faux paus, my immediate reaction was to run back to the mall and get a replacement towel, but I'm a grown man and I felt I could admit my mistake and then replace the towel.

Well, so far i've admitted my crime and have yet to replace the towel and to Darla's credit, she's only brought my offense up twice to me. I publicly admit that I'm a bonehead and deeply apologize for my indiscretion with the new towels. And yes, I do have an SUV and a golden retreiver. I'm no longer cool, but then was I ever really?

It is another week of work leading up this time, to Thanksgiving. I'm trying to get caught up on my inspection writeups and marketing call reports. Darla is off work this week. She went to visit her grandfather yesterday with the boys and is off to visit her hairdresser today and pass on some of our money to this person for keeping her beautiful. The wind is supposed to kick up this week, but so far it has been sunny and calm. The forecasters have been predicting a huge wind storm over the last three days that seems to have fizzled out. No complaints here as I have 21 trees on my property and most of them are deciduous.

This past weekend was quiet and enjoyable. We had David's football banquet on Friday night. He won the award as the Most Valuable Defensive back and was a Captains Choice for offense.They have one for offense and one for defense. The hardest award to swallow was that the other quarterback made MVP of the offense. He threw for 369 yards for the entire year with three touchdowns, seven interceptions, five fumbles and -26 rushing yards. Hard to believe we only won three games with him as the offensive star. David WILL likely be the starter at quarterback for his varsity team next year according to the head coach. They don't have any junior qbs and he wants an ATHLETE at quarterback. Adam, the other qb, is a good passer, but is slower than an Arkansas cowboy doing calculus and is flat out afraid of contact. David creates contact on both defense and offense and the Varsity coach has noticed.

I had a good trip to Reno last week. The gambling part is fun, but I think I enjoy it too much. I can play for hours on end. I lost early on this trip, but hit another Royal Flush, this time with only five coins in for $200. I had hit the Royal Flush two months ago with the full twenty coins in and won $896. This is on a nickel poker machine. Not bad. The weather was great up in Reno and I was turning the territory over to my Phoenix based marketing rep. When the agents asked why, I said that I was taking over the Bay Area territory, but really my gambling problem had more to do with it. Just kidding.

The ant-festation in our house is winding down. We've again put borax out and we are slowly killing the colony. It gets old, but at least it's not termites. Right, Dad?

Both David and Daniel are involved in basketball. David is the starting shooting guard for his JV team and Daniel is a reserve center. As much as I'll miss football, there is some contentment in sitting in a heated gym watching basketball when the weather is cold, rainy and blustery. I'll miss the football, but not the nose running cold that permeates your body. Besides, I have a moustache and it's a bit messy.

I will add more to this later. Jennifer is doing well in the Army. She just passed her Hummer test, so she can drive the military Hummers. She took the beast off road and I think it was considered work, but she had a ball.

Finally, I have a good friend, Tami Tuel, who is going through some medical difficulties with some partial blindness in her vision. She is being tested and will be in for an MRI tomorrow. Please pray for her. She has been an angel in my life and I can only ask God to hold her in his arms now.

Ken

It is Monday morning. The backyard is littered with leaves and branches and my hard work of vacuuming the backyard with my leaf vacuum on Saturday afternoon seems, in retrospect, a complete waste of time and effort. It is a bit overcast with a high, thin fog and the sun is struggling to break through.

The weekend was interesting, if not dynamic. Darla and I were able to put a large dent in our Christmas shopping as we were up early on Saturday morning and off to the local Galleria for a day of shopping. Friday night saw the last of David's JV football games for the year. The entire coaching staff had been pink slipped during the week due, I suppose, to complete incompetence. It seemed that they were out to prove the athletic director a genius as the team stuggled through yet another game of inept play calling and bizarre substitutions. For those who don't know, David plays quarterback and strong safety. He lost his starting qb position three games ago after a fight before a game. David was knocked unconscious and ended up with a mild concussion. The backup qb had been elevated to starter and unfortunately is one of those players deathly afraid of physical contact. In this game, the qb threw an interception in the first series and it was run back to the goal line. When David finally was put in, he lead a brilliant drive to the 10 yard line, where he threw an interception. The coach grabbed David as he was leaving the field and yelled, " If my quarterbacks can figure out what the f**k is going on, we might have a chance to win this game!!" One of the parents behind me asked what he said. I said, " He said I'm a FAT ASS!" ( THe coach is pushing 300 lbs and is a lard). Darla and those around me laughed having put up with this dough head all year. What I didn't realize until later was that the coach's wife was sitting behind us.Oh well.

Saturday night, I decided to take Darla to dinner. We stopped again at the Galleria and put our name in at Max's Opera Cafe. We wandered the mall for forty minutes looking at Crate and Barrel and the Home Design Company and The Bombay Co. We were finally seated in a dark corner of the restaurant and I noticed that the spot light above our table was burned out. I ordered and enjoyed a Fresher sandwich of barbecued brisket with red potato salad and Darla had a smothered chicken sandwich (smothered with mushrooms). Our problem was that once our food was delivered, we were invisible. I couldn't get the waiter to refill our drinks, he had to be asked twice to get us "to go" boxes and he took 15 minutes to bring us the bill. We were finished eating for twenty minutes before we finally flagged him down to get the boxes and then I had to ask him again. When he finally brought the bill, I told him that it must be hard to see us in the corner with the light burned out. He didn't quite pick up on my sarcasm as he said, "No. I can see you fine, but we need to replace that bulb". Apparently the fixture was not the only dim bulb in the restaurant. Our meal came up to $28.96 and I left a $1.04 tip and wrote on the bill: "Terrible service. We felt like lepers." Hopefully he got the point, although he probably just thinks I'm cheap.

We returned home and watched a movie. Buddy, our golden retriever, came in and took up residence on his rug by the door. About ten fifteen, Buddy began to seizure and crawled over to me on all fours and had a terrified look in his eyes. He ran down the hall and hid in our room and I had to run him back out where he hid behind the couch. I went in the kitchen to get him some water and the counter was filled with ants, crawling and pulsating in the dim light. I have to admit I came close to losing it at the point and sprayed ant spray like a foaming maniac. We have a pest control service, because an ant nest was built inside our walls. I had the service out five days in a row and we finally solved the problem by placing borax in several spots in the house where the ants took it back to the nest and killed the colony. This was back in the Spring of this year. With the weather change, they're baa-aack. The pest control guy will be out after lunch today when we will resume our acquaintance. Buddy seems to be over his latest problem. he had a bad bout of Parvo as a young pup and still has seizures occasionally. It is not fun to watch and I feel so sorry for him.

So that was our weekend. I hope yours was a great one. I'm off to Reno and will be back Thursday night.

Friday...glorious friday!

The weather had finally turned cold as Halloween 1962 approached. Frost was dusting the rooftops and the leaves were scattered on front lawns and piling up in the street in Vancouver, British Columbia. Halloween was less than a week away. The chance for this 7 year old to dress up as Popeye and load up on candy followed by fireworks in the alley ( a tradition on Canadian Halloween nights) was almost too much for me. I was bugging my Mom and she ordered myself and my eight year old brother out of the house. We got together with a couple of friends from the neighborhood and tried to find something to occupy our time. As we walked down the alley behind our house kicking rocks and being bored, my eyes travelled to a very well kept pumpkin patch in the back yard of one of the neighbors. We hadn't got a pumpkin yet and there were so many in the patch. They wouldn't miss a couple would they?

We climbed over the fence and picked out four of the smaller gourds and pulled them free of the vine. I wondered how we would explain the pumpkins to my Mom when one of our friends said how lucky it was that we found these pumpkins laying in the street. That sounded good to me and we climbed back over the fence and carried our treasures home. Not noticed in the excitement was the neighborhood crank, Mrs. Gandolph, who stood on her porch watching our departure with what I'm sure was a scowl of distaste mixed with pure evil on her face.

We arrived home flushed and excited at our discoveries. Mom was overly interested in exactly where we had found the pumpkins and were they definitely in the alley and not the backyard. We acknowledged that the pumpkins were indeed in the alley. Mom again asked us if we were sure. We looked at each other and said certainly. Mom sent both of us to our rooms to wait for Dad to get home. Like a dope, I got out my Quik Draw McGraw coloring book and went to work on the Hannah Barbera cartoons and waited for dinner. My brother, having a keener sense of reality, stole out of his room, admitted the theft and blamed me for the idea.

Dad arrived home from work tired and cranky and was met by Mom who explained how Mrs. Gandolph had called her and told her of our adventure in the neighbor's yard. She said that Darryl had admitted the theft, but that I was adamant in my denial. I had to endure the sound of my brother's punishment next door at the end of a wooden spoon as I realized for the first time that the gig was up. Tears formed in my eyes and I had developed a full blown sobfest by the time Dad finished with my brother. He asked me where we got the pumpkins and I tearfully and shakily told him the truth. He told me that coming clean was the right thing to do, that he was proud of me and that I should drop my pants and turn over on the bed. The stinging blows hurt, but not near as much as missing the "trick-or-treating" that Halloween. We were forced to march with the pumpkins back to the neighbor's house that night and admit our folley and arrange to rake leaves for the neighbor and Mrs. Gandolph. The owner of the patch was a nice lady who told us to keep the pumpkins and next time just ask her if we wanted one. We begged her to keep them knowing our fate if we returned home with the pumpkins.

Mrs. Gandolph sat in her front window watching us as we raked leaves the next day and she must have been cleaning the house, because I swear she was sitting on a broom.

Jimmy crack corn and I don't care.

It is with trepidation that I set my fingers on the keyboard and begin to tell this story. It is a chance for me to purge my feelings of fear and shame. I was ten years old and had a walk of over three miles to school and back each day. I would often ride my bike, but at times I'd just walk to feel the cool air of Tacoma, Washington in the fall. I would join with friends and we would laugh and make the journey seem somehow more than simply getting from one place to another.

I was late getting out of school having stayed behind to help my favorite teacher clean the chalkboards and prepare for the next school day. I was about half way home, carrying a broken tree limb and thinking about having a bowl of Post Alpha-Bits when I got home when it suddenly hit me. An overwhelming and cramping need to go to the bathroom. If it had been number one, I'd have ducked down an alley and peed on a telephone pole, but the need was more urgent and more private and I'd need toilet paper. I walked on trying to think of other things when a particularly strong wave of cramping hit me and with dread, I realized that this baby was going to be born before I reached the safety of home.

Suddenly and uncontrollably a torrent released from my bowels and the moist and implacable heat of a fresh bowel movement filled my backside. I duckwalked the final few blocks to home with a sweat breaking on my brow and a deep fear of discovery filling my very soul. I arrived to find my Mom and brothers gone. I stole away to the safety of my room and changed out of my pants and underwear. I placed the soiled underwear into a grocery sack and ran to the bathroom for one of the first afternoon showers of my life. I quickly and thouroughly cleaned up myself and the tub and rushed back to my room. I carried the offending sack of steaming underwear to the yard where I buried it behind my Mom's rhubarb plants.

It was the following Spring, that Mom found my underwear while working in her garden.

This is the first in a very random and not very well documented blog. I am, like many, a busy and often unorganized person of moderate computer literacy. I tell people that I'm a fish with feet when it comes to my ability to handle computers...and I say that as a self styled Christian man! I just got back from a wonderful weekend of sun and fun in Carmel, CA. I played golf at the famous Poppy Hills golf course in Pacific Grove and thoroughly enjoyed spending time with my wife, Darla, and best friends, Tami and Jerry Tuel. My golf could have been better, but I parred six holes and birdied number 9 and some pros don't do that at the AT&T Classic. Nice. Ciao.