Surviving and Thriving at Thanksgiving

My wife is a champ. We had 25 people over at our house for Thanksgiving, and 13 people who stayed the weekend. My daughter Brooklyn was nice enough to congratulate me after finishing the annual Habitrot 5K that many of the family run every Thanksgiving morning. We then went to Krispy Kreme to offset anything positive gained by running the 5K. My 90 year-old grandmother/jazz pianist entertained us by playing 'It Had To Be You' at an impromptu concert at our house that weekend with our neighbors. It turns out that was the only song known by both a 90 year-old-Virginian and some 30 something New Yorkers who met up with some Hoosiers in Tennessee.

The Slow Fat Triathlete

One of the fun parts of this job is getting to know some of the speakers out there. Jayne Williams wrote the book 'The Slow Fat Triathlete', which actually was a big help for me in getting ready for my first triathlon. I took the point home that you really don't have to care what you look like in sports clothes. My 'Clydesdale' days are hopefully gone forever (Clydesdale is a category guys over 200 lbs can enter), but I think everyone can have those worries about their appearance. Its also great that she challenges people to do things they haven't done, or think they couldn't ever do. She's as funny on the phone as she is in her book and speaking, and is just motivating from what she's personally accomplished and overcome.

The Forgotten Birthday

So my dad calls me up a few weeks ago, and asks if the weeked of the 17th is a good time to come down. I called up my wife to check the family schedule, and she asked, 'Why would he want to come down that weekend? Brooklyn's birthday is the weekend after that.' 'Um...that weekend is my birthday,' I replied. 'Oh, yeah,' she said.

My babe, Terry Bowden

So I 'm sitting here responding to an email from a client when my phone rings. I saw it was my wife's number on caller ID, so I clicked the button on my headset and said, 'Hey, Babe.' My wife is from California, and insisted on 'babe' being our preferred term of endearment when we were dating. I really didn't want to, but she's gorgeous , so I've made it work. After uttering 'Hey, Babe', this man's voice answers back, 'Uh, I'm calling for Brian Lord. This is Terry Bowden.' I looked down in shock to see that my wife's line was still blinking as 'ringing', and that Terry must have called in just as I was clicking my headset. I gave a little laugh, explained the situation, and got a good laugh in return. Away from the phone I hear, 'A guy just called me 'babe'. Then back to me, 'I'm sitting here with my wife, I just had to tell her that.' I'm sure all those Alabama fans out there are saying I deserve to feel silly, what with working with a former Auburn Tiger head coach turned college football analyst and all. Luckily he's a nice guy, and was nice enough to get back with me on some event questions while his assistant was out sick. My wife got a good laugh when I told her, too.

Carlson's Raider and the Cheesecake Factory

Last Saturday, my wife and I were able to get one of her sisters to babysit our two girls so we could go out on a date. It wasn’t at night and there was no movie to see, but any alone time is great to have. We’d finished eating at the Cheesecake Factory, and as we were walking out, we passed a table with a very elderly gentleman in a wheelchair and his wife. I saw that he had a red US Marines hat on. This little voice inside me told me told me I needed to go and say hello to him and thank him for what he did for us. But I didn’t.

We walked out into the mall, and my wife headed out to her usual spot checking out home décor and I went to my usual spot which is the history section of the nearest bookstore. I couldn’t really enjoy myself, because I knew I should have talked to him. We met back up, went to a window shop at a couple more stores, and then walked out to the parking lot. I started to pull out, but parked back in.

“Do you remember that guy with the Marines hat in there?” I asked my wife. “I should have talked to him. I bet he’s a World War II vet. I going back to see if he’s still eating.” My wife said she thought I should, too. She’s cool like that.

Luckily we were parked just outside the restaurant, and he and his wife were still eating. I came up beside him and said, “Hello, sir, I noticed your hat, and I wanted to thank you for what you did for our country.”

“Oh,” he said with scratchy voice, “You’re welcome.”

I wasn’t sure what to say next, so I asked, “So where did you serve?”

“I fought in the Pacific against the Japanese,” he replied.

“Which island?” I asked.

“A lot of them,” he replied with his scratchy voice.

“All over the place,” his wife chimed in, sweeping her arm in a big circle to emphasize the point.

“I was part of Colonel Carlson’s Raiders,” he said with pride.

“Wow!” I replied. I had no idea who Colonel Carlson was, or what his Raiders did, but I wasn’t about to let him know. Luckily he continued.

“We were a suicide squad. We were worst than terrorists. We’d go into an island, to clear the way for the Marines. Then they’d clear the way for the Navy. Then they’d clear the way for the Army.” He paused. “127 of us left the base, but only 38 came back.”

I didn’t know quite what to say, so I stuck out my hand and said, “Thank you again sir for what you did for us.”

He grasped my hand with his own thin hand, but still he still gave a firm shake and a smile. “You’re welcome.”

I went back to the car and relayed the story to my wife. Almost at tears, she said, “I can’t believe only 38 came back. I don’t know how they could do that.”

And to me, its amazing. We drove off from in our nice car, from an upscale mall and a restaurant, knowing that we didn’t have to think about living or dying or fighting to be free that day. We could because men and women gave their lives in 1776, 1942, or even July 3, 2008, to protect our freedom.

Post script: As soon as I got home, I looked up Col. Carlson’s Raiders. Sure enough, they did exactly what he said they did. Col. Carlson even was the guy responsible for bringing the Chinese phrase for ‘work together’, gung ho, into the American vernacular. I’m hoping to find the movie ‘Gung Ho!’, starring Robert Mitchum, which was inspired by Col. Carlson and his Raiders. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evans_F._Carlson)

My Favorite Horror Movie

As I’ve gotten older and started a family, I’ve realized there is a horror film out there that has existed all along, but has just now become apparent to me, and it is the ‘Friday the 13^th’ of its kind. I’m speaking, of course, of the movie ‘Father of the Bride’. It’s a cute movie I’ve seen before, usually in 3 minute segments. You can watch a baseball game on another channel and flip to it in the commercials to see Steve Martin do something uncomfortable. The blue tuxedo scene is classic, as is his interaction with Franc, aka Martin Short. But now that I have two little girls, one approaching three, the other one and a half, that I see it in its true spectral light. It forces me to realize that someday, hopefully in the late 2040’s, that I’ll have to give these two little feisty, pudgy-cheeked little girls away. This scares me to death. I’m writing this down so I have it on record for the future, but I do get to spend a lot of time with my girls. I’ve taught Sydney to growl, and Brooklyn to count to 10 in Spanish. They both crawl all over me and beat me up on a regular basis. They both go crazy and run to the door when I come home from work (although Sydney hasn’t learned to hug yet so she either barrels into me or runs up to me then runs away.) But I’m sure when they go off to college or get married or whatever, I’ll still wonder if I didn’t spend enough time with them or read to them or just give them enough hugs. As much as this hits me now, I’m sure I’ll be an overwhelmed, quivering mass of humanity as Brooklyn and Sydney try to hold me up during the Father – Daughter dance at their weddings. I’d completely missed all this father-daughter stuff the first time I was ‘Father of the Bride’, and now its all I seem to see.

Side note: The leading song of this genre is ‘Butterfly Kisses’. It’s more effective than a stun gun in putting fathers out of commission for up to several minutes.

Going Green Early

What is less expensive than taking your one year old to Chuck E Cheese to play in the ball pit? Let her climb into the recycling bin in your kitchen pantry. Syd absolutely loves playing in the bottles. Its a huge mess, but she's so cute, we can't help but let her do it.

Premiere has gone green as well. We now have 'green' eContracts. Rather than a lot of printing, signing and faxing, you can now sign offers electronically. Add that in with thousands of contracts annually, and you save a lot of paper (not to mention time and money). Not too bad!