Thank you, Robert Conrad and Kerri
Robert Conrad. As a kid I didn't really know who he was, but in 1978, I knew he was a badass. That Eveready Battery commercial taught me something. Pride. That dude was proud of that battery on his shoulder and he dared anyone brave enough to knock it off. Pride. We all have it. We should have it. But, it should be placed in the right places.
My wife and daughter went to Nashville this week for a much needed escape. Trey is in New York between jaunts to Nantucket. Jackson is our most independent child and he bounces between work and visiting friends. Me? I work. For the past 30 years, I have been a workaholic. 60 hour work weeks ( sometimes 70) have been a staple for me. Work. Get ahead. Work. Earn. Work. Provide. People have often told me "You've got to be there for your family." My response "I am at work so that I can be there for them." Pride. My father worked all of the time. If he wasn't at the shipyard working, he was working elsewhere. Working on this. Working on that. Working on something for someone else. I feel that work became so embedded in his existence that retirement killed him.
"Knock it off. I dare you." Robert Conrad was a badass.
I have come to realize that these past few months have been a blessing. This apartment and its combination rooms and pee pad porch is a blessing. I have asked "Why?" Numerous times. "Why?" The answer is coming in slowly. Hazily.
Kerri is a blessing to my wife. I am thankful that Stephanie went to visit her in Nashville. You can't see past the storm with someone that is in the storm with you. You know that they share your view. Kerri helped my wife see past the storm like I can't. The thunder. The lightening. The rain. I had a small African American church in Columbiana help me see past the storm. Steph had Kerri.
I thought that I grew sick of Hot Pockets while Steph was gone. In reality, I grew sick of missing my family. I have been away from them for longer in the past, but the longing wasn't as strong as this. This hurt. It was a good hurt. This hurt was a teacher. To steal a line form John cougar Mellencamp it "Hurt so good".
I smoke a cigar on a porch that smells like dog urine. You could say that I have done better, but right now, right now, I would disagree. I've done a lot. I've done things that I thought were important. I worked my way from buggy boy to Vice President of Marketing in the grocery business. I once held a joint press conference with a future Presidential Candidate. I once attended a funeral that Oprah Winfrey attended and Jimmy Carter gave the Eulogy ( I even sat on the same pew as the cast of "The Lord of the Rings"). I jumped out of a plane, been on the sideline of an NFL game, been in the pits at a NASCAR race, flew on a private jet, built a brief friendship with Lil Wayne, and it goes on...These things were the battery on my shoulder. Who would knock it off? Me.
Life is what you make it. The battery on your shoulder is your choice. What I have come to realize is that my little family is the battery on my shoulder. I dare you to knock it off.
Thank you. Thank you, urine smell. Thank you, cramped apartment. Thank you, Robert Conrad. Thank you, New York. Thank you, Nantucket. Thank you, Jackson's friends, Thank you, Kerri for taking my wife on a journey Over Yonder.
My wife and daughter went to Nashville this week for a much needed escape. Trey is in New York between jaunts to Nantucket. Jackson is our most independent child and he bounces between work and visiting friends. Me? I work. For the past 30 years, I have been a workaholic. 60 hour work weeks ( sometimes 70) have been a staple for me. Work. Get ahead. Work. Earn. Work. Provide. People have often told me "You've got to be there for your family." My response "I am at work so that I can be there for them." Pride. My father worked all of the time. If he wasn't at the shipyard working, he was working elsewhere. Working on this. Working on that. Working on something for someone else. I feel that work became so embedded in his existence that retirement killed him.
"Knock it off. I dare you." Robert Conrad was a badass.
I have come to realize that these past few months have been a blessing. This apartment and its combination rooms and pee pad porch is a blessing. I have asked "Why?" Numerous times. "Why?" The answer is coming in slowly. Hazily.
Kerri is a blessing to my wife. I am thankful that Stephanie went to visit her in Nashville. You can't see past the storm with someone that is in the storm with you. You know that they share your view. Kerri helped my wife see past the storm like I can't. The thunder. The lightening. The rain. I had a small African American church in Columbiana help me see past the storm. Steph had Kerri.
I thought that I grew sick of Hot Pockets while Steph was gone. In reality, I grew sick of missing my family. I have been away from them for longer in the past, but the longing wasn't as strong as this. This hurt. It was a good hurt. This hurt was a teacher. To steal a line form John cougar Mellencamp it "Hurt so good".
I smoke a cigar on a porch that smells like dog urine. You could say that I have done better, but right now, right now, I would disagree. I've done a lot. I've done things that I thought were important. I worked my way from buggy boy to Vice President of Marketing in the grocery business. I once held a joint press conference with a future Presidential Candidate. I once attended a funeral that Oprah Winfrey attended and Jimmy Carter gave the Eulogy ( I even sat on the same pew as the cast of "The Lord of the Rings"). I jumped out of a plane, been on the sideline of an NFL game, been in the pits at a NASCAR race, flew on a private jet, built a brief friendship with Lil Wayne, and it goes on...These things were the battery on my shoulder. Who would knock it off? Me.
Life is what you make it. The battery on your shoulder is your choice. What I have come to realize is that my little family is the battery on my shoulder. I dare you to knock it off.
Thank you. Thank you, urine smell. Thank you, cramped apartment. Thank you, Robert Conrad. Thank you, New York. Thank you, Nantucket. Thank you, Jackson's friends, Thank you, Kerri for taking my wife on a journey Over Yonder.
Comments
Post a Comment