Sports Cards and the Passage of Time…

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Somewhere, about 30 years ago, my mom bought me pack of basketball cards.

In it, was a 2nd year NBA player named Magic Johnson.

That card, along with hundreds of others, have been in a special case that has travelled through the years with me.

Recently, Paco has recently gotten into sports trading cards.

So, while I was tidying up, I found that Magic Johnson card and gave it to him.

It was like I was transferring a part of my younger self, with all of the energy, enthusiasm, and optimism that I had at age 7 to my son…all through some basketball and football cards that I, too, had cherished at his age.

Watching the Tower Fall…

Hard to believe it’s been 10 years since I stood on the corner of 6th and Bleecker (I had jury duty that day) and watched the World Trade Center Tower fall down with my own eyes.

Here’s my post from that day.

Kindergarten Memories…

On Monday, Paco went off to Kindergarten.

Kid #2 going to school.

And it made me emotional (just as much as when Tonka went off to school last year), but also because I realize that my kids are fully into the “age of memory.”

I have some clear visions of Kindergarten in my head and still have many, believe it or not, friends who were in my class.

Ironically enough, the day before, I went to a baseball game with just such a friend, Mark Spira.

We’ve been friends for 32 years and the night before, because I had been looking through my scrapbook for the picture of Bill Clinton with me (see yesterday’s post), I found a picture of the two of us from then.

Long-term benefit of crazy…

Blog readers who have been with me for a while know “the Maine story.”

It’s helped shape my life attitude in many ways.

What I’ve recently discovered is that “Maine” moments have a secondary residual benefit, which I hadn’t originally anticipated.

Back in 1996, Chuck and I got in a car in DC at 10pm and drove all night to Atlanta to participate in the Olympic games (I went to watch a Judo match).

As part of our ritual, we sang that famous Olympic tune every time we entered a new state.

Well, the other night as Paco, Tonka, and I were watching the Olympics, I told them the story of driving all night to be there.

So, when I was 23, I did something that was “a bit crazy” and that has become the fodder for a bonding moment with my kids.

Father-Daughter Only Tea Party…

A few weeks ago, Tonka and I were up early and I realized how infrequent the two of us have 1:1 quality time. 

Gianni obviously requires the most attention and Paco, being younger than Tonka, relatively needs more.

I said to her that we should do something “together, just the two of us.” 

So, we hatched (and completed) a plan for a “Father-Daughter Only” Tea Party with Tonka, 5 of her friends, and their dads.

We served macaroni and cheese with carrots for lunch.

Then we went around the table and each father said something he appreciated about his daughter and vice versa.

That was followed by a joint art project where the father drew a picture of himself and the daughter drew one of herself.

And we wrapped up with some cookies.

The next day, I was about to hang up the picture in the basement “art gallery,” and I paused to admire it. More cherish it than admire it, actually.

It was less the quality of the art work than what it represented (in fact, I hadn’t seen the addition of the stickers since they came after my design was done.)

In Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters (which I think was an underlying driver for this entire experiment), the author says that girls “just like to spend time with their fathers,” not even doing any particular activity.

I can’t speak for the other attendees, but I know that Tonka felt closer to me last night…she basically said as much, which was great.

 

How Places Spark Memory

You know how there are certain places where you've been and those places are associated with certain events?

A few days ago, I was in Dallas at the Bar Mitzvah of my cousin.

I entered the hotel and immediately flashed back to a weekend 2 years ago.

In Dallas for another family event, I received an urgent email from the NFO telling us we had to cut our trip short and come home immediately.
Our Nana was dying.

The weekend had been full of suspense. My mom had decided not to go for fear of my grandmother's passing.

The hotel, for all of its glamour, however, only served to remind me of that weekend.  Of the anxiety, of my dad saying that it was his turn "on the firing line."
It's just interesting how a random place like the Hilton Park Cities in Dallas can become a trigger for a memory.

Making the Mundane Memorable…

Maybe it is because I am working harder than I ever have.

And I am more tired than ever before (yes, some self-inflicted).

But, I am starting to see the “stop and smell the roses” value (or as we say, ‘mental snapshot’) of the seemingly mundane.

The call to a client, who explains his problem.

The negotiation with a group that wants to hire me.

The challenge of getting reimbursement for my backed-up sewer drain.

I’ve begun to start appreciating these moments as the building blocks of a life lived.

Hard to explain and I’ll come back to it, I am sure.

The point is: the profound  and/or memorable moments are not always profound or memorable at first glance…but can be made that way, if you want.

Pivotal Parental Moment…

One of the humbling things about being a parent is that you never know what things will make an impression on your kids, for better or for worse.

Speaking at NYU the other night about social networking, I told an anecdote from my childhood.

"When I was 8 or 9, I was in the car with my mom and she said 'it's not what you know, it's who you know."

Of course, there's an element of 'what you know,' but I realized that part of my determination and commitment to 'networking' or better yet, 'relationship building' comes from that moment.

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On Comebacks and Staying With It...

Image by Adam Pieniazek via FlickrI got on the Nordic track last night at the top of the 7th inning and saw Tampa Bay go up on Boston, 7-0.

The announcers mentioned it and you saw it, "some fans are starting to head for the exits."

I thought back to a Redskins-Raiders game I went to in 1983.

The 'Skins were down 17 points with 6 minutes left. My brother and I were there with a high school kid to whom my parents had given the 3rd ticket and who was chaperoning us.

"This game is over," we said. "Let's leave..."

Joe Bardin, the chaperone, said, "let's just wait and see what happens. You never know."

Sure enough, the Redskins came back to win by one point.

So, last night, I thought, "anything's possible."

And sure enough, it was.

Ah, the beauty of sports.

Kids and Basements...

Image by jer979 via FlickrFor the past few weeks, my two kids have come home from school, disappeared into the basement for 2 hours, and then re-emerged for dinner time.

What is it about basements that attract kids?

Growing up, my brothers and I also cherished the privacy of the basement.

Is it "out of sight" of parents? The feeling that you are 'under ground.'

For the psychologists out there, is there some part of our psyche (a la 'man cave') that cherishes relative seclusion?

The imaginary world they are building is fantastic. I am cherishing this part of parenting.

All because of a basement.

Jim Henson and the 3 Kid Family Excursion

  In the latest of our series of Family excursions, my dad and I took the 3 kids to see the Jim Henson traveling exhibit at the Smithsonian.

The heat index that day was 102, so Paco and Tonka cooled their feet in the National Sculpture Garden pool facing the National Archives building.

Without my dad, this day would not have been possible. The NFO was at work and it was the first effort to take all three out.

The exhibition itself was smaller than expected and good. It’s hard to measure ROI, since it was so hot, we had trouble finding parking, it was the day of the DC triathlon and the kids were more excited about the carousel and getting ice cream, but it’s important to take advantage of your hometown, so I felt good about that.

9/11 in NYC Remembered…

I stood on the street corner at Bleecker and 6th Ave. watching the 2nd WTC Tower fall.

Here are my thoughts from that day.

New York Thoughts: What Can I Say?

Your Life Story…

Paco turned to me the other night and said, “I’m three [it was his bday last  week], what is your number?”

Figuring he meant age, I told him.

“When I am your number, what will be your number?”

In other words, when I am your age, how old will you be then?

“Well, when you are 35, I suppose I will be 67.”

“And when I’m 67?”

On and on it went, until I was 162.

It wasn’t so much the idea that at some point before 162, I would probably die, it was thinking about what Paco and the others might look like when they become 35 or 50.

At that moment, I thought of a few friends, but particularly Ned Stutman, a dear friend of ours who died a few years ago from cancer.

He never saw his oldest child, my good friend Shira, reach the age of 35.

It reminded me of the lack of guarantees in this world, this life.

I think the fear of death, for me at least, isn’t about the fear of the end of my life, it’s in not getting to see the end of the story of my life, which will be written my kids and their descendants.

Why Aren’t You Funny?

Went up to Albany to visit with various members of the in-law family, including those who live in Israel.

We got there around 7pm on Friday evening. At 9, we were eating dinner and hanging out.

My 4 year old nephew turned to me and said, “Uncle Jeremy, last time I saw you you were really funny, why aren’t you funny now?'”

We cracked up.

“I didn’t know the pressure was on. Let me see what I can do.”

By the end of the next day, I was redeemed.

“How am I doing? Am I funny?”

“Yes! You got your funny back!!”

A taste of the world to come...

Usually, I blog with the reader in mind, but this one is just for me.

You're welcome to read along, of course.

There's a saying about the Jewish sabbath that it is M'ayn Olam HaBa, literally "from the world to come" (as in heaven, afterlife, etc.).

Many simply say "a taste/foreshadowing of the World to Come."

Today was one of those days for me.

Took Tonka and Paco to synagogue with me, where I read Torah. Had a great time as I pushed them in the stroller (great workout!) through the park and they laughed with each other.

Afterwards, I turned them loose on a new playground at an elementary school.

Sat outside (just gorgeous weather) on the bench (thanks, Dad!) reading while the two of them sprayed water on the pavement and our cars.

After lunch and a nap, we were off to one of our closest friend's birthday dessert party. Then, took the three of them (2 in the stroller, one in the Bjorn) to the baby naming for the daughter of some other close friends.

I must have walked 3.5 miles today pushing 70 lbs of weight (my calves are hurting!)

For someone who loves socializing, it was just a tremendous set of opportunities.

And, after coming back home, I took the girls to see some friends staying a few houses down, where we had a 30 minute chat.

Of all of today's images, the one I love the most is seeing Paco/Tonka running and laughing across the basketball court at the playground.

The weather was idyllic. The kids, for the most part, were well behaved. We saw so many wonderful friends and had such great conversations. Ate well. Just feel like we truly lived today.

If this is what the "world to come," is like, it'll be worth it.

The Mind of the Child...

While the NFO was napping this AM, I had the privilege of watching the three kids.

Gianni was quiet and eventually napping and Paco decided, too, to lie down.

That left Tonka and me.

She said, "Will you play with me?"

Sensing that "Mental Snapshot" moment, I of course said yes.

Soon, we were cutting up Lincoln Logs with plastic Disney knives and placing Princess plates under a booster seat....making imaginary cookies.

First off, I cherished the vivid imagination that she displayed.

Second, for a moment, I really let myself go. I wasn't 'playing along,' I allowed myself to get immersed in the game and see it through her eyes. I think she sensed it, because she responded well to my questions of "do we really need that much butter?" and "what about using this as a rolling pin?"

Later in the afternoon, I began a new book called Presentation Zen and the author highlighted the beauty that is the child's mind. I don't have the exact quote in front of me, but it was something along the lines of:

"A child's mind sees many possibilities. An expert's mind sees only one way."

He stressed that in achieving creativity and envisioning, you need to approach things (at least initially) with the innocent mind of the child.

I felt like I knew what he meant...and were those cookies delicious!

The Last Lecture (Book)

Last September/October, my friend Jacob came over to hang out and said:

"hey, have you heard about the Carnegie-Mellon professor who gave his last lecture?"

He'd read an article in WSJ and together, we watched the video on YouTube.

To say it was inspirational would be an understatement of epic proportions. By now, you probably have seen it.

Randy Pausch, father of 3, husband, and Comp Sci professor is dying of pancreatic cancer and has only months to live. His lecture leaves you feeling uplifted about what it means to really live life.

Last week, Jacob dropped me a note:

I picked up 2 copies of "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch - the professor whose lecture we watched.  It's a very reassuring book that I think you'll like a lot.  It's also pretty short

I think Jacob was trying to send me a few messages with this book and I appreciate them. Some of them include:

1. Continue to live your life with an appreciation for the moment
2. Don't forget to be humble

and much more.

As I read this book, I thought of Randy's predicament, leaving 3 kids under 7 behind and how he desperately wants them to understand who he was...and struggling with the best way to do that.

I was reminded of a conversation I had with Michael Fishman after his mother's death, where he said:

"you know, I was thinking about your blog the night before the funeral. You know that you are leaving your kids...and your grandkids...such a gift. You are leaving them your own words and pictures, so they will really know who you were and what you thought. It's really great."

It made me feel quite good and encouraged me to continue my blogging efforts, if for that reason alone.

This book had me alternating between tears and laughter. It's not about dying. It's about LIVING.

I HIGHLY recommend it.

Holocaust Survivor and a Dose of Perspective...

I read Torah every few weeks at a local synagogue (not the one I usually attend).

This morning, while I rolled Tonka in the stroller, I was feeling a bit low, given my rough week.

When I arrived, I saw that the entire service was being led by the synagogue youth group. They were doing a fine job, but I definitely thought, "whoa, I'm feeling down, but whatever is going on with me, puberty is far worse!"

But, that's not the story I want to tell...

The real story is that in the middle of the service the Rabbi calls up one of his congregants, Nessie Godin, to announce her upcoming 80th birthday.

Nessie is somewhat well known in the DC Jewish community for her Holocaust-memorial related activities. She also happens to be the grandmother of one my high school classmates.

The Rabbi turns to the congregation and says:

"Some of you may know that Nessie is a Holocaust survivor and I bet there were times when she never thought she would make it to 80 years old."

Then, Nessie begins speaking. She's got an authentic, eastern European accent that added to the moment.

"You know, I look around today and I see all of these beautiful children leading the service and showing how much they love their religion. And it makes me really feel like we had a victory over Hitler."

My job of reading Torah wasn't done yet, but I was choked up. The woman in the 2nd row was crying. Just one of those moments to keep it real.

FOJ Retrospective...

Two weeks ago, I lamented that I am Waiting for Godot in terms of a high speed scanner for my past writings. Aliza graciously offered to send the emails she's received over the past 10 years (from the pre-blogging days), but I told her not to worry.

Well, Gail sent them (and it turns out that it wasn't all that difficult to post, so Aliza, go ahead and send)

For those of you who have been w/me for that long, you *may* enjoy this trip down memory lane.

These are from the 5 week X-country trip that the NFO and I took in 2002

Awe Inspiring Canyons of the Southwest

Across the Ages Across America

Vegas, Baby!

We Love LA!

The Rocky, but beautiful, California coast

City by the Bay

Of Mormons, Gamblers, and Barren Land

Friends in the Rocky Mountains

From the Plains to the Prairies to the Range and i...

Into the Heartland: NYC-Chicago-Minnesota

 

And these are 2 others that she sent along.

• A sense of the divine...
• Did I make it here? Trying to Recap 4 years in NYC

Medical Opinion vs. Mother's Intuition

Seven years ago, my brother-in-law was a Pediatric ER resident.  He would often complain about his 12 hour shifts and how tired he was.

At one point, I said, "I'm tired of your moaning about work, I am coming on the job with you."

So, I joined him on a 7pm-7am "graveyard" shift one Saturday night/Sunday morning (well let's call it a 7pm-6.20am since I crashed on a couch in the staff lounge.)

I had the scrubs, the stethoscope, and was assisting in basic procedures (like holding supplies) while seeing patients.

We did have 3 traumas come in within a 20 minute period, which was crazy, but the eye-opening part of the experience was how 99% of the cases presented could be diagnosed with

"It's a virus. There's nothing I can do. Go home and get some rest."

By the end of the night, I was making the diagnoses.

As a result of that night, I tend to think that when my kids get sick, "it's a virus," and there's no reason to  go to the doctor.

The NFO doesn't subscribe to that philosophy.

Last week, Tonka 'presented' with some symptoms and the NFO said, "I think she may have strep throat, let's get her to the doctor." (Note: in my house 'let's' means 'you', but I digress)

I took the Tonka in, told the pediatrician the story above. She said, 'it's probably a virus, but we'll do a culture anyway."

They did a rapid test, it was negative. The MD confirmed virus, but did say "we'll do the overnight culture as well."

Know what happened the next morning?

The pediatrician's office called and confirmed what the NFO knew all along!

Tonka's on anti-biotics and is doing much better now.