For everything there is a season . . .

A friend of mine has his birthday today.  I can't imagine what it must be like to have  to celebrate your birthday on the anniversary of the greatest US tragedy our generation has ever known (knocking on all sorts of wood after that statement).  A day that for many years prior to 2001 was a happy occasion, is now a day of somber reflection.  If I were him I would be extra mad at the people behind the attacks for taking that away from me.  He is a good person.  He takes pride in the fact that he lives in a country that has afforded him so many good things and I know he would not hesitate to defend that country at any cost.  He has taken a very admirable stance on this subject and embraced the importance of somber reflection on this day.  He asked his friends that rather than post a mindless birthday wish on his page, that we remember where we were that day and how we felt, and write that instead; to honor the fallen.

So I obliged his request and wrote a little blurb on his wall.  When I finished, I couldn't go to sleep and felt the urge to elaborate on it.  So in the wee hours of the morning, when I should be in bed, here is the story of how 9/11/2001 impacted me:

I was waiting at the gate for someone above my pay grade to come and open it at Enterprise Rent a Car.  I was a lot attendant there.  I had picked up a second job at the time because times were tough for a temp archaeologist and there were very few shovel bum jobs to be found. I never watch the news in the morning and at the time was only listening to tapes in the car so I hadn't heard anything earlier.  The other lot attendant pulled in behind me and got out and asked if I could believe it.  I had no idea what he was talking about and then he told me . . . I couldn't believe it.

I had to work the whole day so I didn't see any of the footage.  When I got home I couldn't bring myself to turn on the TV. Maybe I thought if I never saw the footage than somehow it would have never happened; you know, kind of like the theory about trees falling in the forest with no one to hear it . . . unfortunately people had heard it.  But I knew what would be on TV if I turned it on, so I didn't.  I think I managed to go 6 months before I saw the footage of the towers being hit by the planes for the first time . . .

I remember walking around the whole day in a daze listening to the radio in the office, when I wasn't washing cars in the back, for updates on the situation; just trying to wrap my head around why anyone would be compelled to do such a thing.  I wrote the chorus to one of my favorite songs I have written that day, asking that question:

     Are we really all that different that you would have to take my life?
     Could I have taken you for granted?  Have I caused you any strife?
     I was only working 9 to 5 to support my wife and kid.
     What grievance have I caused you, that you would do the things you did?

Ten years later, I still haven't gotten a satisfactory answer . . .

So like many of you, I will take many opportunities today to reflect upon the people who lost their lives in the attacks and the people who have since lost their lives in an attempt to defend us from future attacks, and the families that they left behind.  But I also want to wish my friend a happy birthday because I believe there is room for both and celebrating another year that we have been given is one of the best ways we can honor the price that was paid to give it to us.  Happy Birthday buddy!  You are an inspiration!

Until next we meet.

Well another busy season for a youth leadership organization that I volunteer for has come and gone and I can't help but look back over the 7 year ride it has been.  I came back to the organization in 2006 (I am an alumnus from 1994 and volunteers as a Staff Assistant (SA) for two years after that before I got busy with college and life).  But in 2005 I reached an epiphany: I was getting stagnant.  I wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't moving forward with life.

I needed to be proactive!  I needed to start making some goals and achieving those goals!  Then came the moment of truth . . . 'but how do I do that?! What should my goals be?!

Well after a bit of soul searching, one of the directions I decided I needed to go with my new found goals was to give back to a world that had given so much to me.  And what better organization to give back to, than the organization that showed me that I could make a positive difference in the world. I had always wanted to be a facilitator like the one who inspired me over 10 years ago.

So I sent a message to the Leadership Seminar Chair (LSC) that year and, lo and behold, they had a facilitator position open.  It was fate!  I was supposed to be there.  Flash forward seven years later and I have held many positions at HOBY Arizona, including facilitator, Director of Programs, Director of Recruitment, LSC  and Alumni Advisor.  This year I branched out to other seminars too as a facilitator for Wyoming and the World Leadership Congress in Chicago.

So in honor of another year of HOBY under my belt I thought I would post the blog I posted before my first year as a facilitator:

Titled: Christmas carols in June
Originally Posted Saturday June 3, 2006
At the Time I was listening to Good News for People Who Love Bad News - Modest Mouse
And my stated mood was: Awake

So next week I get to go to Tempe and be a facilitator at the HOBY Seminar this year. I'm kind of looking forward to it and it should be good times. I remember when I went there some 12 years ago. It was definitely good times.  Hopefully I won't get any crazy kids in  my group who start dancing and singing Christmas carols 'cause that's just weird.  I mean think about it, it's 100 degrees in the middle of the Sonoran desert in June and they are singing Christmas carols.  That's just not right. Besides, they would just be alienating those poor Jewish kids.

. . . Until next we meet.
Sandalmarks

The Silver Bullet.

I stopped at the 7-eleven on the way home from work today to pick up a 6-pack of Coors Light in honor of my friend's dad.  I'm not really a huge fan myself, but it is the adult beverage of his choice and it seemed fitting.  He has always been a kind and fun person to be around.  I remember one night he decided to take a few people bar hopping to his favorite watering holes.  I don't remember the occasion, but it doesn't really matter, he never needed an occasion to live life - the fact that we were all there would have been just as good of a reason as anything else to him.

It was probably only the second or third time I had met him so I didn't really know him very well , but that never mattered to him.  He had met me once!  That was enough for him to invite me to join the fun.  I don't remember all that we did, or even every place that we went.  All I really remember was there was never a time when I didn't feel like I belonged there and that had everything to do with him.

Earlier this week he lost his battle with cancer and today was his funeral.  I haven't been to too many funerals, but I have already figured out that I am a train wreck at them.  But I don't mind. He was a good person, and I will miss him - surely it is appropriate for me to express this even though I know he is at peace now and feels no more pain.

I made the silly decision to go back to work afterward.  I was worn out and spent, my head was hurting progressively more and more, and I really had no desire to be there. So I left.

. . . and now I am home writing this and remembering the man he was and remembering the short time that I was privileged enough to know him.  A long time ago a letter was printed in a very wise book that stated that we should 'count it all joy'. That is something I hope I can glean from the life of my friend's father. Through the good and the bad, he was truly happy each and every day and I believe that was because he knew he had one more day to live and whatever trial he would have to face that day was worth that opportunity - to love and be loved.

So this Silver Bullet is for you, my good friend's father!  I will probably switch back to Miller Light after this, but anytime I am offered a Coors Light, I will no doubt think of you and remember the joy for life that you treasured!

. . . until next we meet.

Sandalmarks

What's the Point of BLOG

Quite a while ago I created a profile on a website I rarely go to anymore. It was on this site that I was first introduced to the concept of doing my own blog.  But I really didn't get why I should even want to do such a thing . . . Fast forward a few years and I got a hair up my butt and decided I would actually put something in that section of my profile.  Of course, I couldn't take it seriously and made a joke of it, but the following is the first post I ever put in a blog.  Enjoy!

11/11/2006

Blog, blog, blog, blog, blog. So I guess I just don't get the whole concept.  What's the point of writing all this if nobody knows about it or reads it?  I guess it kind of reminds me of Bingo. I mean who really has time to read all this useless information.  I'll tell you, people who play bingo. And old people. Although they are the same people. And everybody knows that old people never go on the internet. They are too busy playing bingo.  So then who will read this? See, it's just a vicious cycle. Oh well.

Until next we meet,
Sandalmarks

My Writer's Pen

Tonight I was at an Andy Hersey show at Shooters when my mind started wandering, as it usually does. Tonight's main focus? Blogs.

I've thought a lot about starting a blog on several occasions, but never could get myself to make a decision.  What would I call the blog?  What would I blog about? Why would anyone read my blog? What is my stance on the price of tea in China? Clearly I had a lot of formulating to do before I should even attempt such an endeavor.

Well tonight, while listening to Andy put his spin on many classic songs, my mind wandered to what I should call my blog. It is pretty interesting the way my mind works sometimes. Andy has a line in one of his songs that states, 'If I could write song lines like Roger Clyne, I'd have a saving grace.' I'm not sure why but that line popped into my head (I'm pretty sure he didn't even play that song tonight), but I started thinking, 'well heck, if I could write song lines like Andy Hersey . . .'

Okay, fine well what song lines have you written that you do like?

Fast forward past numerous thoughts (many incoherent) and I finally figured out what I would call my blog! It comes from a line from one of my favorite songs that I have written: 'This guy told me that he was a writer, who never could pick up a pen. It's sad when you know who you are, but your thoughts are to far to help you pull out of this spin.'

A writer's pen. It is his (or her) greatest friend when words are flowing from his brain at an uncontrollable rate and it is his worst enemy when there are no words that can describe what is going through his head. I also like the title for the double meaning of the term 'pen' (n. A fenced enclosure) for those times when a writer's brain cannot express the things that are running through their head into words. No matter how hard you try, you just can't seem to pick up that pen (writing utensil) . . . and therefore, your mind becomes your own pen (enclosure - prison).

Fast forward a couple hours and I am at home on my computer trying to figure out where one would even create a blog and whether I could even use that title.  Well it turns out that my original idea for a blog title had, in fact, already been taken. A Writer's Pen. The Writer's Pen, Writer's Pen.  All taken!  Well, under normal circumstances I would have told myself that this is clearly a sign that I need to find another idea for my blog name. Clearly it is an overused thought.

But then I started looking at those blogs - none of them have posted since 2010, 2007 and 2006 respectively . . . and two of them barely have two or three posts.  Clearly these other people have not put as much thought into their name as I have, otherwise they would have been more diligent in their upkeep of the blog. So I tried My Writer's Pen - Lo and behold! It was available.

I was going to do this after all!

But what should my blog be about anyway?!  Why does it have to be about a specific theme anyway?  How many blogs are really themed? And even if they are, how many of those blogs methodically stick to that theme?  So screw you all! I don't want a theme!  My current idea is for it to be a gathering place of previously stated musings on other sites or buried in notebooks, tucked away in my shed for who knows how long, supplemented with current thoughts as I am inspired. When I am able to pick up a pen (writing utensil) I will write something new . . . but when my mind is a pen (enclosure) I will reach into my archives of musings.

Until next we meet!
Sandalmarks