Wednesday, September 29, 2004

sheesh.....*

I made a nice comment/compliment to my wife in an earlier blog entry today, and I got an e-mail from her accusing me of trying to score brownie points. In my defense, I can only say this: You mean after 17+ years, you're just now figuring that out? It's no secret, I'm all about the scoring of brownie points! I have to score brownie points because I do so many things (allegedly not listening at all times, being gassy, being her 3rd child) to have brownie points deducted. Remember? I'm a guy.....

* The previous entry was done completely in jest. While the Plaintiff did, in fact, accuse said Defendant of attempting to obtain said brownie points, the Defendant is/was not offended. This entry should in no way, shape or form be interpreted as the beginnings of an argument. Plaintiff and Defendant often exchange "for-fun" barbs with one another. Also, Defendant enjoys sleeping with Plaintiff, hence the need for brownie points.

friday for me.....

Yes, that's right, today is Friday for me. I'm taking a couple of vacation days, but not necessarily to relax. I've got a kitchen ceiling to paint Thursday (jealous yet?) and I'll be running with Sara at the annual Moore Miles event Friday morning. I had actually planned to paint the garage, but there's too much prep work involved - spider webs and dead bugs to get rid of. Me, lazy? No, just picky about certain projects.

You know you're getting old when you hurt yourself and you don't remember how you did it. I was fine yesterday afternoon. Came home, went running, then went to softball practice. Came home and had a very sore lower back. Still sore this morning. I have no idea how I did it. Other ways to tell if you're getting old:
  • You are proud of your lawn mower. (not guilty now, mine is too old, but I can see it; lawn mower envy? that's another thing entirely, but still a good indicator)
  • You sing along with the elevator music. (guilty; the 80's get further away every day)
  • You constantly talk about the price of gasoline. (yeah, but who doesn't these days?)
  • People call at 9 pm. and ask, "Did I wake you?" (or teenagers call at 10:30 and actually wake you up; but that's early for them)
  • You answer a question with "Because I said so!" (I've been using that one for years)
  • Your ears are hairier than your head. (you know you're in trouble when the batteries are so weak they can't handle the foliage)
  • You talk about "good grass" and you're referring to someone's lawn. (constant competition on our cul de sac, but no one would EVER admit it)
In closing, I've always believed that God has someone for everyone. The more time I spend with my lovely wife, the more I believe it. We had a discussion the other day about how appreciative I am of her, mainly because of a situation I had encountered earlier that day. So anyway, as far as I'm concerned, Susie's 'da bomb.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

is this me?

I ran across one of those sites that tells you what your name means. Here's what mine said:

Although the name Wade creates the urge to be reliable and responsible, we emphasize that it can cause a superior, interfering expression whose favorite expression is "I know" when not combined with a balanced last name. This name, when not combined with a balanced last name, can also frustrate happiness, contentment, and success, as well as cause health weaknesses through worry and mental tension.
Your name of Wade gives you a clever mind, good business judgment, a sense of responsibility, and an appreciation of the finer things of life. You are serious-minded and not inclined to make light of things even in little ways, and in your younger years you had more mature interests than others your age. Home and family mean a great deal to you and it is natural that you should desire the security of a peaceful, settled home environment where you can enjoy the companionship of family and friends. Whatever you set out to accomplish you do your very best to complete in accordance with what you consider to be right.


OK, let's break this thing down:

Although the name Wade creates the urge to be reliable and responsible, we emphasize that it can cause a superior, interfering expression whose favorite expression is "I know" when not combined with a balanced last name. Is this saying I think I'm a know-it-all? Hmmm....

Your name of Wade gives you a clever mind, good business judgment, a sense of responsibility, and an appreciation of the finer things of life. "Clever" must be another way of saying that I'm a smart alec; good business judgment and responsible, I'll agree with; I do appreciate the finer things in life, but I can rarely afford them. Let's continue....


You are serious-minded and not inclined to make light of things even in little ways, and in your younger years you had more mature interests than others your age. The first part of this one caused me to "make light" of this part of my name definition; I can find humor in the cracks and crevices of situations where most people can't (also known as "making fun"). Sometimes I'll say something in jest in Susie's presence, and I'll get a look from her that says "you're a sick, morbid individual." The second part, however, was pretty accurate. I always hung out with older kids in junior high and high school growing up.

Home and family mean a great deal to you and it is natural that you should desire the security of a peaceful, settled home environment where you can enjoy the companionship of family and friends. Dead-on accurate. I do enjoy a peaceful environment at home. Looking back on a fight scene between Sara and Meg, I can find humor; however, I don't think it's too funny when it's "in the moment". I prefer security as opposed to chaos, so shoot me.

Whatever you set out to accomplish you do your very best to complete in accordance with what you consider to be right. This is a big part of my personality. If you're going to do something, do it right. Otherwise, why do it at all?

You can try your name out and see how closely it resembles your personality at http://www.kabalarians.com/Index.cfm. I did one for all my girls, and I'll share it with them tonight. Should be alot of fun.....

Monday, September 27, 2004

there's a little hotel called the shady rest.....

Ever get a song in your head and can't get rid of it? For some odd reason, the theme song from "Petticoat Junction" has been going round and round inside my skull for the past 3-4 days now, and it won't go away. Very irritating.

I remember watching "Petticoat Junction" in the afternoons after school in my late-elementary/early-junior-high years. That, and "Gilligan's Island", "Gomer Pyle", "Andy Griffith", and many others. "PJ" wasn't a small-screen miracle, just waiting to be handed an Emmy. In fact, the shows almost always seemed to be pretty much the same. Occaisionally characters from other shows would appear; characters from "Green Acres" and "The Beverly Hillbillies". I guess the thing that intrigued me so much was the fact that in the opening credits, three teenaged girls apparently bathed or swam in the water tower. But remember, I was somewhere between 9 and 12, and seeing something like that just naturally caused me to be interested. Now I think back on it and wonder why these three girls were allowed to swim and/or bathe in the water tower. Was this water used only to irrigate the crops? If so, that's fine. But if they swam in the water tower, and the local residents then drank the water, that's another thing entirely. (This would probably explain why Uncle Joe was "a-movin' kinda slow at the junction"; he was drinking polluted water.) However, at 10 years of age, a boy doesn't tend to think much deeper than what he sees, and this boy simply saw three wonderfully facinating young ladies swimming and/or bathing in a water tower.

Meanwhile, I'm still hearing the theme song to "Petticoat Junction". If anyone has a cure for such a malady, I would deeply appreciate it if you'd send the suggestion my way.

Friday, September 24, 2004

i'm trying, i swear.....

People. You can't live with them, you can't ball your fist up and slug them in the mouth without some kind of retribution. I guess I'm just a picky person. I feel like I'm pretty easy to get along with, but every now and then I'll run into someone with whom I just don't gel. I try to give them the old "benefit of the doubt", but for some reason that runs out on some people faster than it does others.

Then sometimes I wonder if people feel the same way about me, and it's very possible. (Except when it comes to Susie; I know she LOVES everything that I do in her presence!) I've told people before that I was blessed with the tongue of a smart-alec, and I use my gift quite often. Sometimes it goes over well, other times it can bomb. When that happens, I understand how a stand-up comic must feel when they tank.

Then I take it to another level and wonder how thin God's patience runs with me. Thankfully, there's that thing called grace.....and it actually is amazing.

In chapel this morning, I was able to understand any problems I might have aren't that big. Three representatives from local non-profits talked about things they do to make life better for those less fortunate. From helping a disabled single mother with four teenagers (3 with physical/mental issues), to helping disabled children and young adults, they're involved on a daily basis with challenges I'll probably never deal with. The word grateful doesn't start to describe how I feel. Grateful for a healthy family, my job, and all the many other things that mean so much.

So next time I get frustrated with someone, I'll try my best to remember those people I saw this morning. Surely that would bring things into their proper perspective.....

Thursday, September 23, 2004

rare "cool" parenting moment

There are moments in the life of a parent that are both infrequent and uncommon. This is one such event:

A couple of days ago, Susie was transporting Meg and a friend back to their respective houses, having come from a friend's birthday party. (Please don't tell the police that we don't have a chaffeur's license, because we seem to be running a taxi service for young teens these days.) After dropping the friend off, Meg tells Susie about what the bithday boy's mom did and how this lady acted during the party. After the story, she said something like, "Mom, I know I talk about how some of my friends' parents are so cool, but I'm glad that you're my mom." Simple as that. I think Meg could have told Susie that she had just committed grand larceny and she would have forgiven her with a statement like that.

Things happen to parents these days. Relationships can be broken, addictions can be overwhelming, and the stress of some jobs can cause all kinds of problems. Sometimes, when these things occur, parents can tend to overcompensate and try to be their child's "friend" rather than their parent. Don't get me wrong, I want my daughters to like me. But I also realize that having them like me isn't first and foremost in my list of "job duties" as a parent. I'll have to admit that Susie does an excellent job of balancing these two seemingly divergent tasks. She spends time with Meg every night before she goes to bed. Sometimes I wonder what in the world takes so long, but then again, I'm a guy. Keeping an open dialogue going with kids, especially teenagers, and also letting them realize that there are still boundaries in which they are expected to operate, is key.

So anyway, this was an especially rewarding conversation for Susie. As the girls have grown up over the years, we've been told (by them, many times) that we're mean parents. All it takes is one little statement like the one Meg mad to cover up all those other times.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

back home and settling in

I had planned on blogging yesterday, but the day went by much faster than I had anticipated. It's amazing how loads of e-mail and snail mail can eat up your time.

It's great being back home! Susie surprised me at the baggage claim area in the airport. She was supposed to just pick me up at the curb, so this was nice. However, after standing there for about 30 seconds, she asked me where the bathroom was. Aha! The ugly truth reared its head.....she needed to go to the bathroom! That was the real reason she came in! Alot of you may not know this, but it's my wife's lifelong quest to visit every rest room in the United States before she dies. She's well on her way to accomplishing that feat.....

My experience with San Antonio was very positive. From what I saw of the city, it's great! I stayed at the Marriott Rivercenter on the Riverwalk, and it was very nice. The river is man-made, about 15 feet wide and 4 feet deep, and it winds through the downtown area. Plenty of shops and restaurants along the river. The food was very good, and I didn't shy away from eating at any time during the trip. I had my first taste of Blue Bell Ice Cream, and it's as good as Texans have always told me. My favorite flavor was Bannana Pudding. Good stuff. There was a mall attached to the Rivercenter, so that was very convenient.

I skipped the end-of-conference party on Saturday night so that I could watch the UT/Florida game. I was pretty near to having a coronary all during the first half, between the offense moving the ball up and down the field and the defense doing their impersonation of Swiss cheese (too many holes). With 6 minutes left, a friend of mine called from the lobby and told me to come down and finish watching the game with her and her husband. I told her that I just couldn't, I was too worked up, but that I would be down after the game, win or lose. I had worn my UT golf shirt during the meetings that day, and got several comments on it. One guy said something to me about it in Tony Roma's, as I was getting some take-out to take back to my room before the game. Turned out he was an attorney from Nashville, so we ended up talking about the game. When Wilhoit missed the extra point, I screamed "NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" and threw the remote down on the bed with quite a bit of force. However, rather than my normal reaction (they've blown it, it's over), I'm not sure what came over me but I actually said out loud, "they can still win it with a field goal." From then on, it was very exciting. When Wilhoit hit the winning field goal with 6 seconds left, Susie called and my first words were, "it's not over, there's still 6 seconds left". Cindy called from the lobby, and I said the same thing to her. When there was no time left on the clock, I went down to the lobby. I got more comments about my shirt as I got off the elevator from some people I didn't even know, and I responded by giving them the signal for a successful field goal - hands in the air, with a "yeah, baby!" thrown in for good measure. When I got to the area of the lobby with the projection screen, my friends were all there and I gave them the same signal. High fives were exchanged, a little bit of celebratory yelling. All in all, a great night for the Orange Nation. You may wonder why I chose not to watch the game with my friends. I can only watch UT football with VERY close friends and family members because I tend to get a little out of hand with my cheering/yelling/screaming. Our neighbors to our right even commented to Susie that I was very quiet during the game because they couldn't hear my reactions. Susie said, "Oh, he was in San Antonio." Our neighbor said, "Oh, OK, that makes sense. We knew he wouldn't be able to be that quiet." Hey, at least I can admit it when people are right about me.

So I'm back home, back at work, and normal life resumes. Back to budgets and spreadsheets, homework and Playstation 2, and snuggling with Susie at night. Life could be much worse......

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

visiting a new land

Last day of "real work" for a few days. I'm heading to San Antonio in the morning for a conference. Trying to make sure everything is covered here before leaving.

There's a certain amount of anxiety about me whenever I'm going out of town. Did I get everything finished before leaving? Did I change my voice mail and e-mail messages? Have I packed enough stuff for the trip? Will I get ripped off by the cab driver because I don't know the city that well, and he ends up going through Galveston? Anyway, it should be a good trip. I've never been there before, and from the looks of things, the Marriott Rivercenter is close to everything so there will be plenty to do and see.

I've actually been "banned" from talking about the restaurants there in front of Susie. She didn't want to hear about all the nice places since she couldn't be there. And that's understandable. She's always been a big fan of "Hooters", and knowing that there's one in the hotel and she can't go has got to be troubling to her.

Well, time to go meet my lovely bride for lunch. It will be nice to spend some time together since I'll be gone for a few days. You know, the best part of leaving is coming home. I'll miss my three girls, and it will be nice seeing their beautiful faces next Monday.

Monday, September 13, 2004

that was close

Ever started a blog, read it, and deleted it immediately because of something you wrote?

Yep, I wrote this blistering blog earlier this morning to vent some frustrations. And, boy, did I feel better after writing it! Then I read it. And re-read it. And re-read it again. After the second re-read, I realized I couldn't post it. I try to maintain a great deal of anonymity when it comes to work-related stuff. And even though this wasn't very descriptive, those closest to me who read this on a regular basis would have called me on it.

Wouldn't it be nice if our daily conversations sometimes had a delete key? Maybe you're different, but there are times when my mouth just isn't big enough for both of my feet. Sometimes I come out with these great zingers that could have gone unsaid. I'll admit, I'm a smart-alek. It's always been my nature. I'm not bragging, just being honest. I can spar verbally with the best of people. My humor is mostly self-deprecating, but I so tend to zing people on occaision (usually much to the delight of everyone in the room except the one being zinged).

I'm alot better about it now than I used to be, although I'm not completely cured. Most of the time I'll think of something, then tell Susie about what I was going to say later. She usually laughs, though sometimes she'll say "you're terrible" or "I can't believe you would have said that!". I was never the class clown, but rather more of what Billy Crystal called the class comedian - I thought up the stuff for the class clown to do, but would never do it myself. I guess as I grow older, I know my audience better, and know better when it's safe to say things.

In the meantime, I'll see if I can work on that delete button for conversations.....I'll keep you posted.....

Friday, September 10, 2004

like being around grandparents

I attended a retiree meeting this morning, had my 5-minute presentation for them, etc. It's always great being around these people. My company's sponsor has an annual fellowship for the retirees, and I always go so I can keep in touch with them. Seeing them here in the building, renewing old friendships, is great. There aren't many companies who do this kind of thing for their retirees. There also aren't many employees who would want to keep in touch with so many former co-workers these days.

I'm by far the youngest person on the agenda at these meetings. They all come up and talk with me, and it's like being around my grandparents. Always a handshake, a smile, a pat on the back, a "you're doing a great job for us" kind of thing. And that's always nice. Not that I'm ignored on a daily basis, by any means. Being the boss here, it's my job to do the same for my employees. I guess the hardest part of encouraging others for me is putting aside personalities and show support and approval based on the individual's achievement.

I hope as I grow older that I can have the same kind of encouraging attitude towards those I come into contact with, whether they're people I see often or just those I bump into every now and then. Actually, I guess I don't have to wish for that for just when I get older; I could hope for it now. I openly admit that I'm an OFIT (old fart in training), but hopefully I'll never graduate past the "in training" part. That's a hope my wife and daughters probably have, also.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

things change

I had planned to write about open house at Centennial HS last night. About how strange it felt walking through high school halls again. The teachers seemed nice, the building was great, all that stuff.

But this morning I saw a clip of the twin towers in NYC being destroyed on September 11, 2001. My attitude changed immediately. My internal posture went from normal to pure anger. Every time I see that video footage, I get furious. And what's even more frustrating is the fact that these kinds of nuts are still out there causing people all over the world all kinds of grief. The recent events at the middle school in Russia comes to mind.

It's hard to believe how our outlooks have changed over the past three years. It's also hard to believe that it will have been three years this Saturday. We'll all pretty much go about our lives that day. There will be soccer and softball games played, college football games watched. But do yourself and others a favor on Saturday - stop and remember the lives lost, not only on that day three years ago, but also those lost since then because of terrorism. Think about the families left behind. Pray for our troops around the world defending our freedom.

I sometimes have a hard time dealing with things over which I have no control. That's part of my personality. Things change, that's just life, and I understand that. I can deal with things like changing a blog topic, because I made that decision to do so. For the big things in life (well, really for everything), I guess it all boils down to faith.....faith in Someone Else other than me. I'm glad I can have that kind of faith, because without it I'm not sure how I'd handle things these days and times.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

quick observation

There's nothing quite like the sight of seeing a rather rotund woman put BOTH hands down the back of her pants and scratch.....there, I'm not hungry any more.....thank you, oh ye of considerable dimension, for keeping me from eating a mid-morning snack.....

so this is what 108,625 people looks like

That was the look on Sara's face when she turned to me and said, "whoa, Dad!" as we walked into Neyland Stadium Sunday night.

She'd been looking forward to this for a long time. Sara loves UT football, and I don't know where she gets that from (yeah, right). Chris and Landon picked us up at Mom and Dad's around 3:00, and we were in Knoxville by 4:30. We headed for the strip and walked around, watching the sea of orange all around us. Sara was mesmerized by it all. After a quick supper, we headed towards campus. In front of one of the party places before games, the Vol-ette's were performing a routine with a live band. Smokey Jr., one of the mascots, was out front shaking hands. He saw Sara, put his arm around her, and walked up the street with is for a little while. She loved it! After that we showed her some of the dorms and the library, and she couldn't believe how big everything was. Sara always says UT is where she is going to college. Alot could happen over the next 8 years, but she seems pretty sure of it. We headed up to "the hill" to watch the "Vol Walk", where all the players and coaches file down to the stadium to dress for the game. Sara and Landon were on the inside, so they got to "shake hands" with alot of the players and coaches. Her favorite to shake her hand? Brent Shaeffer, freshman QB phenom. (Meg said that the other freshman QB phenom, Eric Ainge, was REALLY cute.) There were also about 300 former lettermen on campus for the game, and they did the walk, too. Tee Martin, Willie Gault, Bill Duff, Bill Bates, and alot more. We walked around some more, went down to see the "Vol Navy" on the river, then finally into the stadium.

She was into the whole game. She was completely enthralled with the players running through the "T" onto the field; she loved singing "Rocky Top" over and over; she loved participating in and watching "the wave" as it went around the stadium; she loved the fireworks after every Vol touchdown. I thought she might want to go to the concession stand about every 10 minutes, but she didn't. She even said, "thank you, Daddy" when we did go, and that was nice. She couldn't believe that a bottle of water cost $3! Ah, yes, I'm raising her right.....

We got home around 1:15 Monday morning. As we were walking up the driveway towards the deck, Sara looked up at me and said, "that was so cool!" And she was right, it really was. Chris was nice to invite us to share his tickets with him and Landon, and we really enjoyed ourselves with them. 11th row in the South endzone makes for a great view, especially when UT scores in that endzone. But being with my daughter, my best friend and his son, that's even better. Here's to a great season for the Vols......

Friday, September 03, 2004

"i'm old enough to ask this question....."

These were the words out of Sara's mouth last night about 7:45. She had just had her bath, her hair was still wet, and was dressed in her normal bedtime garb - one of my t-shirts.

When she said this, I thought, "Wait, this sounds like a "girl" thing, so why are you asking me?" I looked toward Susie, and she evidently knew what Sara was going to ask. I'm processing things in my head as fast as possible, because sometimes you don't really want to answer questions that your kids come up with. So she said, "Is Santa Claus real?"

Sara is 9 1/2. We've made it this far. The past two years, Susie and I have thought every Christmas that "this would be the last year" she believed in Santa. Meg was 10 when she "cracked the case", and was quite proud of herself.

So the question is out there, hanging like a dead limb on a tree that you know you're going to have to cut back. I did the normal thing and hedged, hedged like crazy. "Well, what do you think?" That's how psychiatrists respond to everything on TV and in the movies. That doesn't always go over well in real life, especially with my daughters. She shot back with "just tell me!" We tried some other lines like "how else would all these presents appear?" and "you've seen him at the mall and at other stores", things like that. We kept going round and round, with Sara refusing to give up her inquistition and Susie and I hanging onto this piece of childhood innocence. Maybe we were wrong for being so protective over this belief. Let's face it, when you use reason and logic, there's no way a fat man could break into your house and millions of other houses during a 24-hour timespan and do what he does. But maybe that's the reason - we didn't want her to use grown-up logic. We don't want to keep her from growing up, but she was the last child we'd ever have to question the idea of Santa.

By this time, Sara was getting angry. She's crying and yelling "just tell me!", and we're both looking at each other like "you tell her, I don't want to!" So I came up with the classic line "Santa is what you believe him to be in your heart", to which she responded "then he's not really real!" and started to bolt of the room crying. I held her on my lap in the recliner, just trying to calm her. After several more "just tell me!" rants, I finally let her go and she stormed upstairs. Why was this so hard to just tell her? Couldn't tell you. When she left my lap, I knew that we had turned a momentous corner in Sara's life. We decided to let her calm down a little bit before talking to her about it.

About 15 minutes later, I went upstairs to the bonus room to check my e-mail, then I went to Sara's room and knocked on the door because it was locked. "Go away, leave me alone!" came from the other side of the door. I persisted, and she finally let me in. After staying behind the door for a few seconds, she got in her bed and we talked, and it was obvious that she was more relaxed now, having processed things for a few minutes. I asked her why she was so angry, even though I already knew the answer. Was she mad at us for "lying" to her about Santa? She said that wasn't it. I asked if she was just sad that she "found out" about Santa, and she nodded. We talked a little more, and she was starting to smile. I told her that Meg was 10 when she made the same discovery, and Sara said that she was much more mature than Meg, and that's why she figured things out earlier. I asked that she promise not to tell "little kids" about Santa, especially her cousin Grace since we'll see her this weekend, and the other kids on the street. Sara then said, "What about the tooth fairy? Is that you too?" I tried to hedge again, but she was obviously on a roll. Susie came in, and we all talked some more. I told her that I found out about Santa when I was 6 because I had been snooping and found some of my Christmas presents early. Sara asked who called every Christmas Eve and pretended to be Santa. "Is it Granddaddy?" We relented and told her. I said, "And years from now, when you have your own children, I'll do that for them!" I told her goodnight, gave her a kiss and walked out of her room. She went into Meg's room to talk about her revelation, and Susie came up to me in the hallway and said, "What about the Easter bunny? Did she ask about that????" I said that she didn't, and that we'd had enough discoveries for the night, so we'd just leave that one for another time.

This Christmas will defintely be different at our house. Sure, Santa will still come, but Meg and Sara will probably both look at each other and grin when we talk about it, like it's a sister-to-sister inside joke. This is all a part of growing up, both for the girls and for Susie and me as parents. The girls both know they can ask us any question they want to ask. We may not give them the answer they want to hear, but we'll always be there with an answer. We know there will be things that we have to deal with but would rather not, just like last night. We also know that we can handle it all because we have each other - all four of us......

Thursday, September 02, 2004

heading into the weekend

First of all, congrats to Kathy on her gall bladder surgery. You know you and your friends are getting old when you congratulate them on a successful surgery. I'd also like to publicly state that Kathy Moffitt is indeed older than me. Much older, in fact. There, I feel better now.

Tomorrow night I'll go to my first high school football game in almost 20 years. (Saying things like this is another way to tell you're getting old.) Centennial's first home game is tomorrow night against Ravenwood. Meg may be a little nervous about her parents coming being at the game. Hanging out with friends is one thing, but know that Mom, Dad AND younger sister Sara are at the same game - that's entirely different. If I'm feeling mean, I may actually talk to her in front of her friends. Oh, the horror.....

Heading to Johnson City Saturday morning for two reasons. First, to visit Mom and Dad. We've not been up since the July 4th weekend when we were on our way back from North Myrtle Beach. Second, Sara and I are going to the Tennessee game Sunday night with Chris and Landon. Sara's never been to a UT game at Neyland, and she can't wait. Great seats, 11th row, south endzone in the corner. Being there with over 100,000 fans is an unbelievable experience, and I can't wait for her to be a part of it. We'll head back sometime Monday morning, but hopefully not too early. We won't be back from Knoxville until around 1:00 that morning.

Not quite sure why I'm writing about the weekend on a Thursday. Must be that illness I have about always looking forward to things.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

doors

What is the purpose of a door? To keep things out? To keep things in? If you've ever watched any scary movies, there's always something frightening behind those doors. On Let's Make A Deal, there are chances to win great (or terrible) prizes.

We walk through physical doors every day without any regard for them. Some are nuisances, although necessary. Sometimes I'll stop long enough to look admire the structure of a particular door. To me, a front door can make or break a house aesthetically. Sometimes a door will have sidelites that allow one from the outside to peer in and check out what's on the inside. Doors often have a peephole that permits those inside to view outside without opening the door.

Another definition for the word "door" is "a means of access or participation", as in reference to an opportunity. Honda has an ad on TV now where "Mr. Opportunity" is knocking, offering you a great deal on a lease for an Accord. (Yeah, I'd like to flush $2k down the toilet up front and have nothing to show for it 3 years later. Oh, and can you add some extra mileage fees on the back end? Thanks ever so much!) Opportunity will often knock; it's up to us to consider the rewards and/or consequences. At times you make keenly accurate assessments; other times you don't.

I closed one such door today. I thought I closed it when the same opportunity was offered almost a year ago, but it came back. While the opportunity would have been a great fit for me, after much consideration all the pieces just weren't going to fit.

Looking back, I'm confident that I made the right decision. This isn't the last opportunity I'll ever have to use my skills and abilities elsewhere. And I firmly believe that this isn't my final sbusiness address. But for now, I believe I'm right where I need to be. And it's good to know that regardless of my choice of employment, Susie's right there with me.