If you notice, the sun comes up a little later each day. Your kiddies are back in school. Then there are the bees. Lots and lots of bees. The radio is blasting the UW Badger "Bud" song. Yep, summer is over.
We are all the "result" of our mother's warnings. You know! "Don't cross your eyes because they might stay that way".
Your Mom also conditions you for your eating habits with her insights.
"An apple a day keeps the doctor away?"
"If you have a cold, you need Chicken soup."
"If you want muscles like Popeye, eat your spinach." Mom never convinced me.
"If you don't drink your milk, you won't grow big and strong,"
As the years have gone by, I have adopted a regimen of eating too much and exercising too little. If someone says that I am too heavy, I rationalize that I am too short for my weight. If I were 6 inches taller, my weight would be perfect. Or, I'm not heavy, I'm just "big boned". You get the idea. I've got good reasons for being like I am.
The comic Jay Leno helped me put things in perspective. He observed that he has been in training for the Olympics all his life. Michael Phelps eats 10,000 calories per day to supply all the energy he needs in the pool. Leno says he has the 10,000 calories down. now all he has to do is develop a swimming routine. Don't we all. I've got the calorie requirement down. Now all I need is lots of exercise. I plan on starting tomorrow (or maybe the day after).
The lesson Grasshoppers is that our nutritional lives are filled with myths and dillusion. The reality is that we eat too much. We eat the wrong foods. We rationalize that what we do is okay. For sure, it is not our fault. I know, blame it on Mom.
Love,
Dad
I watched the Olympics in Beijing. One of the ads was of a car tire hitting debris in the road and "blowing out". But fear not! They were Bridgestone tires with "run flat" capabilities. An inner tube of air keeps the tire inflated enough to keep driving until you can get the tire fixed.
Some new cars do not carry a spare because the "run flat" feature eliminates the need for it. If your tire goes flat, just stop at a tire dealer and have them fix it.
Great idea, huh? Guess again!
Most "fun flat" tires can not be repaired because the internal air tube prevents getting to the inside of the tire to repair it. Sometimes (and I emphasized sometimes), a small nail hole can be "plugged" from the outside. The net of all this is, if your "run flat" tire blows, you probably have to buy a new one. There goes $250.
Next comes the availability factor. Run flat tires are not stock items. So if you need a run flat tire replaced, you have to wait. One day? One week? One month?
Then you need the same brand tire to match the three tires that didn't go flat. The dealer you stopped at may not have that brand and you are screwed. Yes, you can search dealers until you find the right tire.
So some people order an extra "run flat" tire so that it is available in case of failure. Oops! There goes another $250.
It is a bullsh-- system!
The lesson Grasshoppers is that for now, stay away from "run flat" tires. Some German designer in Europe came up with a better idea. He (or she) needs to get out in the real world.
Love,
Dad
During my morning exercise, a young lady that has hardly acknowledged me for years, tapped me on the shoulder and said "my you smell good"! Whoa! I told her that was the best compliment I've had in years. I guess I'm still attractive to 70 year old women.
Previously I mentioned that at age 12, 13, 14 and 15, I worked in the Stokely fields during the summer weeding beets. When I turned 16, I was now elgible to work in the Stokely factory "canning" the early crop of peas. No more hot work in the sun. And I was elgible for the big money jobs.
Again my neighbor, Harry Zelm (plant superintendent) made sure that I got a job in the plant. Not only did I get a job, I was a "pea inspector". Now there is a title to relish. I was Chief Pea Inspector. I started at $1.06 per hour. Once Stokely would begin to harvest the peas, I would work 15-16 hours per day (no there was no overtime), seven days a week. Still for a kid, earning over $100 per week, I was always in "pocket money". There were interruptions when it rained but I usually found alternate work in the Stokely warehouse.
As I look back on summer employment, I realize that there were many positive lessons. First, I was taught financial independence. Having my own money allowed me to do many things without having to involve my parents. Second, I developed a "work ethic". There is no shame in earning money. Third, I learned that I didn't want to work in a factory all my life. It is an honorable job position but I just wanted to have Harry Zelm's job as superintendent or better.
From my parents perspective, they always knew where I was during the summer (I was at work) and it kept me out of trouble. Other than dating that girl from "up on the hill", I'm sure my parents felt like they were in control. Ha.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that good things happen from early employment. The lessons are numerous. There is nothing wrong with hard work. The "big money" isn't bad either.
Love,
Dad
One of my favorite movies is "Born Free". The music is classic and haunting.
A young motherless female lion cub (named Elsa) is rescued from the wilds of Africa by a childless couple. As the lion grows up, she is very docile and loved by all.
But little lions become big lions. It becomes obvious that Elsa's natural pedigree requires her to live with "her own" in the wild. There is a great deal of pain by her adopted family in dealing with the return of Elsa to the wild. The effort begins. Elsa is placed into settings natural to a female lion to see if she can break away from domestication. She keeps coming home. It turns out to be a very painful process but eventually Elsa learns to exist on her own.
The parallel to life is uncanny. Children grow up as part of a close family. There is an unwritten law that once kids graduate (or try to graduate) from high school, they will have to move out of the house and begin to support themselves. The reality is similar to Elsa the lion who had no clue about how to survive. Some kids make the transition with relative ease and some kids would be content to live at home forever.
Like Elsa, the transition to independence needs to be made. It is a natural part of life's process. Each person should be allowed to grow and evolve on their own terms. Why would you deny a child the opportunity to become President or a neurosurgeon?
The lesson Grasshoppers is that life is meant to be lived. Children should be nutured to develop as many skills as possible but the evolution to becoming independent needs to be made. Forcing your kids to learn meaningful skills should be a priority.
There is one poignant scene in "Born Free" where Elsa wanders into the camp of the couple who raised her after she has been on her own for several years. There is a stark realization that Elsa remembers and loves her previous home and she brings her two lion cubs with her. But Elsa also meanders out of camp to pursue her new life. Everyone (and Elsa) understands that what has happened is "right".
And then the music theme of Born Free begins in and everyone cries.
Love,
Dad
My next door childhood neighbor was John Zelm. John was an only child and lived above Kaestner's clothing store. John's dad Harry (he was built like a suma wrestler and he drooled snuff), was the superintendent at the local Stokely Van Camp canning factory in town. Harry was my ticket to summer employment.
Once you turned 12 years of age, you could work in the farm fields owned or managed by Stokely. So in April, 1952 when I turned 12, I was elgible to earn "big money" toiling in the sun for the local canning company. Getting a job was not an issue. Harry Zelm made sure I was at the top of the hiring list.
I am reminded each morning as I go for my walk of the morning heat and the high humidity that was ever present when I went to work "weeding beets". The concept was not difficult. Stokely contracted with farmers to plant row after row of beets (those vegetables that all kids love). Thousands of rows. As the beet plants began to grow and mature, there were those awful weeds that tried to choke them out. That is where I came in. My job was to manually pull out all weeds encroaching on the beet plant. I got paid by the row. The length of the rows varied and some fields of beets had more weeds than others. The payment structure was designed to give us $8-$10 per day. The faster you went, the more you could earn provided you did a good job. So in a good week with no rain, I could earn $45-$50. For a kid there were no taxes so I got to keep it all. By the end of the summer I accumulated $500. I guess today that would be equivalent to several thousand dollars. Imagine your kid at age 12 earning thousands.
Each morning my Mother would fill a gallon thermos jug with ice cubes and kool-aid (sugar was not the considered evil). I had enough sandwiches to last all day and there was always a banana or apple. Occasionaly I would get a second small thermos with soup. Soup was always a treat. Never, ever did I get peanut butter and jelly. I hated peanut butter and jelly.
So from an early age, I accepted work as being required. The money I earned in the summer along with additional cash from working during the school year at the City Club kept me in "spending cash".
In looking back, the beet weeding gig was a life lesson. I earned good money for a kid. I was kept busy all summer and I learned a lot about the reality of life. I did not have time to get into major trouble. Throw in a few sports activities and there was almost no time for girls.
The lesson Grasshoppers is that it is good to keep your kids busy. Meaningful work can be very rewarding. Tired is sometimes good! My parents knew if I was busy I couldn't get into trouble. Dah! Imagine that!
Love,
Dad
For the second time in a month I was blocked from getting into my blog to create a new entry. Something strange is going on (Grasshopper No.5 manages the controls). Hmmmmm!
I know that I am not real "hep" with the ways of life but I filled up my gas tank today (after getting a loan from my local bank). I pulled up to the "pre-pay pump". You can not pump gasoline until you go inside to pay the amount you are willing to spend on gas. I understand the concept but why wouldn't you just hold the pump handle until you rang up the correct dollar amount. The lady said that some people always run over and with this pump they were guaranteed they would not overspend. Another Hmmmmm!
If you are into the Olympics you must have seen Micheal Phelps get his gold medal for being part of the 400 freestyle medley team. He got the medal because a team-mate swam the final leg of the race in fantastic fashion edging out other competition. The hero wasn't Phelps but he gets all the accolades and "press". This doesn't seem fair. Then it dawned on me that the female reporters are all "ga-ga" over the tremendous physical shape Phelps is in. My guess is that it didn't hurt his swimming suit was pulled down to the "point of revelation" as he cheered his team-mates on. Hmmmmm!
The Green Bay Packers debuted their new quarterback last night and he got rave reviews. I know he didn't fall down. That was good. He did makes some completions although one was the result of an under thrown pass and another got his receivers helmet knocked off because he threw it into close coverage. We Packer fans need to cling to something. Way to go Aaron. Didn't the Packers lose? Hmmmmm!
Then there is John Edwards. He had an affair in 2006 while his wife was battling breast cancer. There is a child involved but John says it is not his. Best of all he confessed all this to his wife and all is forgiven. What a guy! Wasn't John a Democratic candidate for the Presidency late last year. Those Democrats are a virile bunch much in the tradition of Slick Willie. The "Press Corps" have been tremendously kind in the treatment of John Edwards. Wait! Aren't news service groups notoriously Democratic? Hmmmmm.
I guess there are many things I don't understand in life because they are presented with spin. Yep Grasshoppers, the lesson is that things are not always as they seem. Hmmmmm.
Love,
Dad
The Packers and Favre have been going through a divorce for several years.
Brett kept telling the Packers he didn't know if he wanted to be married to the team any more. Each year he had to be convinced to come back and save the Packers. Last year was different because he finally said he didn't want to be married any more. So he officially retired to a tearful Wisconsin fan base. It was over. He left the "house".
But no! Wait! Brett wanted to give marriage another chance. The Packers had grown tired of his antics and just said "they had created a new life without him". The Packers (the other member of the marriage) had moved on and was tired of Brett's childish behavior. It was over.
This wasn't your usual marriage because there was a pre-nup contract and Brett could force the Packers to take him back for the pittance of $13 million per year. So he exercised his contractual right to come "home". The Packers made it clear they didn't have to play him. He might have to sleep in the attic. So in a very mature fashion, Brett said he wanted to be traded. Screw the Packers. He wasn't loved any more and he would just move on.
Favre had a good looking blonde (Tampa Bay) that looked very attractive and suited his lifestyle. It turns out that Tampa just wanted to be good friends. So a temptress (N.Y. Jets) in a green (their team color) dress came calling. The seduction took place and now Brett is being bedded in New York. It must have been the green dress. To make the seduction complete, Brett is getting a heros welcome including the keys to the City from Micheal Bloomberg, the Mayor of New York. New York does that. If you come their city, even as a teaching assistant, they throw you a ticker tape parade. So now his relationship with New York begins. The Green Bay divorce is final. The marriage is over!
Brett Favre ain't happy. He is New York with a bombshell in a green dress. It is just a matter of time until the Lady in Green starts booing Brett's performance and he discovers that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Out of spite, he will honor his commitment to her for one year. I'm not sure about future years.
Alas, Brett is really a good hearted soul. He will always be loved by the Green Bay family and even though he can't recreate the marriage the way it was, he will be invited to family reunions. The marriage is over but there will always be good feelings and a warm reception. Brett destroyed his own marriage. What did he expect?
The lesson Grasshoppers is that sometimes we don't realize how great things are until we lose them. Don't let the great things in your life slip away!
Love,
Dad
Several decades ago, the world's knowledge base doubled every 4 years. Now I think knowledge doubles weekly or faster. What has this got to do with you? It means you have to keep learning new things to make yourself more valuable. You can't stop. You need to keep reinventing yourself. Each day you need to become "the new you".
If you go back 50-60 years, the norm was to find a quality company and a quality job. The perception was that the company would take good care of you if you put in a dedicated effort. If a person changed jobs 2-3 times in a lifetime, that was a lot. Today people are changing jobs 10-12 times during their career.
The competitive global marketplace doesn't allow companies to "screw" around. If someone has marginal performance or if their job skill becomes obsolete, that person is replaced. Sometimes it isn't anyone's fault.
Shelby Jr. for example has training and job skills to transcribe doctors verbal medical information about different patients into printable form. Guess what? Now they are developing voice activated transcription software so that they don't need a person to bridge the gap from voice to written form. Apparently the software isn't perfect yet so there is a requirement to proof read the doctors information. Suddenly the skill of her job is being transformed significantly. So what does Shelby Jr. have to do? She needs to reinvent herself into a new person (and she is keenly aware) with new skills. So now she can go back to school and become the neurosurgeon she has always wanted to be.
Becoming the "new you" is a continual process. It takes a mindset that says I'm going to keep going to school to get more knowledge and develop more skills. Then the world becomes an opportunity rather than a steady flow of disappointments because your job is being eliminated.
I used Shelby Jr. to make my point of becoming a "new you". No one escapes my premise. It applies to all the Grasshoppers and your families. It includes your Mom. It includes me.
I guarantee the world is going to change (faster and faster). Embrace it. You'll like the new you.
Love,
Dad
I listen to the exploits of my Grandsons at their summer baseball programs. It brings back memories of my Plymouth childhood.
When I was 10-11 years of age (at 12 I had to go "beet-weeding" for the local Stokely Canning Company) I would ride my bike up to the Plymouth "Big Park" to play baseball. The Plymouth Recreation Department hired Warner Finke (he coached football, basketball and track at the High School) to run the summer program. If you showed up before 9:00 AM, you would get chosen to a team and you would play 7 innings of hardball. So I would jump on my used Schwinn bike and pedal to the park.
Finke would bring out a bag of baseballs and bats from the permanent shed. The bag always smelled musty. He would toss a bat to one of the boys. The youngster would catch the bat and whatever distance existed between his hand on the bat and the end of the handle would become part of the "choosing process". The guy catching the bat became one captain and Finke would name a second captain. The second captain would place his hand next to the original bat "hold". The original captain would then place his other hand next to the opponent's hand. Slowly the two captains worked their hands in alternate fashion to the bottom of the bat until they ran out of wood. At the bottom of every bat is a knob. The captains had to decide whether the knob could be grasped from the bottom by your fingers in a clawlike action. If clawzees were allowed and you got to grab the knob, you would choose first a member for your team. Usually a good hitter or pitcher was chosen first. Then in alternating format, each captain picked guys they wanted on their team. Some choices were made for talent. Some choices were for friendship. Last choices were to fill out the roster.
The process of getting chosen to a team was pretty simple. If you were older (15-16) and a good player, you were selected for your skills.
If your good buddy got chosen as a captain, you would have an agreed pact that he would chose you fairly early and of course you would chose him too. Skill was secondary.
The agonizing process was when you didn't have a close friend as a captain and you were one of the youngest kids and nobody cared if you were on their team or not. So you just waited and waited and waited until your name was called. I don't think I was ever the last selected but there were a few times I came close. The process didn't do much for your self-esteem.
The ultimate morning baseball game was when my Dad (Bucky) would show up and he would be one of the captains along with Finke. It made for excitement because both my Dad and Finke were left handed and could hit long home runs over the short stone fence in right field.
Actually it is really gratifying when your own Dad selects you for his team. It gives real meaning to "Dad, you are the greatest".
Yep. It is Aug.1. It is hot and humid. Baseball is the game of summer. I remember playing ball every morning. It was a good time. It was the best of times.
Go Dominic. Go Tommy. Go Mitchell. Go Grant. Go Collin (whoops, soccer is the game of choice). These are days of your life!
Love,
Dad