Sunday, July 26, 2009

My Father’s Son…

There was a farewell at church today.  Lots of people.  And upon walking in I was surprised to see that, even with all the visitors, the west half of the third row was wide open.

Why was it wide open?

Because that’s “our row.”

And I chuckled.  It was just like growing up.

And upon further reflection I realized something both terrible and wonderful…

I am my father’s son.

That’s the good news.

And the bad.

As much as I fought it in my youth, wanting to be my “own” man, there’s just no outrunning my upbringing.

On the one hand, I seem to have a lot of the tendencies I always loved about Dad.  Most of them are small, private things.  And it makes me feel good… like it’s going to be ok.  I think this story has a happy ending.

And I also struggle with many of the same demons Dad fought his entire life (that I remember).

It’s frustrating.  At times it’s terrifying.

I’m most afraid of the effect my procrastination, risk-taking and disdain for anything resembling authority has on Lauren and my girls.

And I wonder… are Dad’s weaknesses the natural companion to his strengths?  Because what he was good at, there were few better.  And what he was bad at, he was terrible.  Not a lot of balance or moderation.

And I loved that about him.

I also know that those weaknesses were tough on Mom for a long time.  And created tough spots for the family that I mostly avoided… but Amy, Pepper, Brooke and Kristen took on the chin.

It’s tough for me to have perspective here.

I want to be just like Dad.  And I’m terrified I’ll be “just” like Dad.

Where’s Dad when I need to talk to him?

Saturday, July 4, 2009

On Freedom…

One of the reasons I don’t blog more often is that I tend to gravitate personally to more serious topics and I’m just not sure anyone wants to read what I have to say on spirituality, politics, economics, etc.  Plus, I’m not exactly the poster child for short, sweet and to-the-point.  I’m more than a little self-conscious about that kind of stuff.

Even when I was writing my weekly article for the Arizona Republic I had to constantly edit it down and fight with the editors for more space.  What started as an 800-word column grew to 2,000 words a week before I stopped writing it.  So that makes it a little tough to do every day.  I would agonize for days at a time over each of my articles.

I was always surprised at how arduous writing was for me (even though I receive very positive feedback) versus doing something like my radio shows.  On the radio I could show up 15 minutes before a live 1-hour show without any preparation and be good to go.  Writing is certainly a different animal.

With that said, however, I do feel a strong desire (need?) to occasionally express myself on topics I consider important… even critical.  And since I no longer have a radio show, newspaper column or regular speaking gig I suppose that just leaves my blog.

This is a stretch for me.  Even so, I’d appreciate your honest feedback.  Agree or disagree, I’d like to know what your opinion is.  It can only broaden my perspective.

In the past I’ve tried to follow my sisters’ style and keep this light-hearted and funny.  It suits them.  Not so much for me.  If this is ever going to stick I have to write about the things that consume me.  Amy and Brooke may find it a little odd that their older brother feels scared to step out of their shadows… but that's where I find myself today.

Here goes.

It’s the 4th of July.  Independence Day.

In America it’s our day to celebrate our hard-won freedom.  And I can’t help but acknowledge the irony of a country so identified with freedom that is populated by so many people who don’t understand what freedom is or what it means.  Staggering.

We are so far off track that at times it’s hysterically funny to me.  Often sobering.  Mostly it just scares me for the future of my country and the world my children are inheriting.

I don’t consider myself a doomsdayer.  And I don’t pretend to preach that our society is headed for imminent destruction.  I leave that to the comedic interpretations of the extreme left and far right.  Those idyllic fools understand the true meaning of our freedom even less than John Q.  And their predictions and knee-jerk reactions are predictably laughable, at best.

Of far greater concern to me is that our society and way of life has proven to be so robust and resilient that we often have no burning desire or reason to shift our beliefs.  Even when they don’t serve us as well as they should.  We are complacent.  And arrogant.  And ignorant.

And we just don’t seem to care all that much because we’re also comfortable.  And “educated.”  And well-off.  Certainly better-than.  And life is generally safe and easy.

So why, pray tell, would we choose to shake that up?  And disturb the precarious balance we’ve established between good-enough and the misery of conscience that comes with an awareness of how great this could be… and isn’t.

Evidence?  Check out the disturbingly high rate of consciousness-altering drugs in use in our society today.  And I’m not talking about the kind of drugs where reputable, upstanding people get to look down their noses at the miscreants and scofflaws that use and abuse illegal substances such as marijuana, meth, cocaine, etc.

I am talking about the far more revealing and problematic societal symptom of prescription drugs everywhere designed to alter our moods and emotions so we can more adequately deal with the pressures and stresses of life.

And if this were a recent phenomenon in today’s economy it would at least be explainable.  Instead this trend took hold during one of the most economically abundant periods in the history of our nation (and the world).

And it’s not just the staggering amount of Xanax, Paxil, Zoloft, Prozac, etc. that is prescribed every day.  That’s just a symptom of a larger illness.  Other symptoms are pathetic divorce rates.  Alcoholism.  Apathy.  Ridiculous political polarity.  Economic depression.  And on.  And on.  And on.

I can’t help but think that these are all symptoms of a people struggling for something different.  Different results.  More meaning.  Less conflict.  Peace.  Security.  Fill in your own blank here.

It’s as if we share a societal conscience.  And we know that somehow we are violating that tiny voice telling us there is something wrong.  And it’s not so much that we ignore it… it’s more like we are desperately grabbing at straws to satisfy it.  We’ll try just about anything to have what we say we want.

And at the root of our attempts to discover meaning and fullness in our lives I think we misunderstand some very core principles.

Things like faith.  And accountability.  And peace.  And freedom.

Why?  Partly because we learned from parents who misunderstand as well and pass that innocent (and hurtful) ignorance on to us.  Partly because we have leaders willing to actively mislead us to accomplish their goals.  Mostly because we are so busy searching for a solution to our lives that we never stop long enough to ponder on the root causes of our frustration and dissatisfaction.

And that brings me to freedom.  Simple concept.  Very misunderstood.  Made worse by a society that sloughs off personal accountability.

As so often happens when a simple principle is misunderstood, it’s not just a minor clarification that is in order.  The entire concept of freedom has been turned on its ear.  Our common definition of it is entirely at odds with its real meaning.

In America we want to claim our freedom as the right to do as we choose / please.  AND the right to choose our consequencesThis is silly.  And it doesn’t work.  Try it sometime.  You’ll see.

And yet we have massive organizations fighting constantly for this version of freedom.  A freedom void of consequence and natural law.  No wonder we have to fight so hard for that kind of freedom.  It’s a fairy-tale freedom that doesn’t (and can’t) exist in this world.  It’s a myth.  Or, more accurately, a lie.

And although I consider myself to have very liberal social sympathies, I’m ashamed at how much of this “freedom-to-do” myth is advanced by social liberals who believe there is some nirvana to be found in a society that has been taught they can do anything in the name of freedom.

It’s absolute and utter garbage.

You see, the real freedom we have as Americans and individuals is not the freedom to do anything our minds can imagine… but to create anything our minds can imagine.  There is a night-and-day difference between the two.  Huge.

I have to thank my mom for teaching this to me.  Even if she didn’t intend to teach it.

Growing up my mom wrote cookbooks.  Good ones.  Popular ones.

And cooking was a fundamental part of my childhood experience.  I learned the importance of following a recipe… and the dangers and rewards of experimenting with one.

As a child with an immature view on cooking I tended to believe more in the “freedom-to-do” version of cooking.  If I wanted to make great cookies it seemed so simple to me.  I figured I could even make better cookies than mom because I wouldn’t put anything “gross” into them.  Like flour.  Or eggs.  And certainly no walnuts ;-)

My cookies would *ROCK* because they’d have only the best stuff in them.  Who needs 4 cups of flour when I can replace that tasteless flour with 4 cups of yummy sweet sugar.  After all, it’s almost the same… right?

And wouldn’t it make it soooo much better if there weren’t things like salt and bitter baking soda in there?

Come to think of it, doesn’t it seem like the best cookies in the world would be nothing more than sugar and vanilla?  Maybe throw in some chocolate chips, if you go for that sort of thing?  Oh… and lots of butter.

Try it.

They are, not surprisingly, terrible.

They taste gross.  The texture and consistency is a disaster.  They’re impossible to get off the pan.  Just a complete failure when compared to what I really want… the best cookies.

So I’m faced with a very fundamental and basic choice.  I can either choose my actions or my outcomes.  Not both.

When I choose my actions then the outcomes are pre-determined and natural consequences of those actions.  I must accept the results.  I don’t get to choose them.

When I choose the outcome I can focus on what I want the result to be.  And then I am bound by those actions that would create my desired outcome.  In cooking that is called a recipe.  In cooking it is a generally accepted principle.  In cooking I would be laughed at if I approached it any other way.

This is not a limitation or arbitrary restriction.  It is simply the most effective route to my desired outcome.

And yet in life we are constantly trying to choose both our actions and our outcomes.  Trying to create delicious cookies from just sugar and vanilla.  And then we cry and moan and complain when life gives us crappy outcomes.  And somehow we consider this sane.

The ultimate freedom is not the freedom to choose your input (action).  It is the freedom to choose your output (creation).  And that freedom to create is precisely what constrains our actions and behaviors.

People are offended when you suggest there should be any constraint on their actions.  Suddenly you are imposing on their freedoms and agency.  It’s not right, all these restrictions that are placed on them.  Quick, someone call the ACLU. 

And then they also want to complain (and blame) when they don’t have the results they desire in their life.

Ummmm… duh!

It’s why Stephen Covey says you must “start with the end in mind.”  It’s why certain scriptures say all things were created “spiritually before they were naturally upon the face of the earth.”  It’s why new-age teachers will have you create vision boards and presence the future in meditations.

Because freedom (also known as agency) is a law of the universe.

And it’s powerful.  Absurdly so.

And it’s wicked frustrating trying to get anywhere without first understanding how to create desired outcomes in your life.

Of course, understanding the true nature of freedom is just the first step.

That knowledge alone will shift your focus from what you want to do to what you desire to *create*.  Very powerful.

And not enough.

Because we then run squarely into the problem of ignorance.

If I don’t know or can’t envision what I want to create then I’m immediately at a loss and I’ve forfeited a huge portion of the power of freedom.

How can I be a great husband or father if I don’t know what that looks like?  I’m limited in my freedom to choose my results when I can’t imagine what that result “looks” like.

And that means that part of freedom absolutely and unquestionably must be the pursuit of knowledge and the discovery of options.

I am most definitely not free to choose from the abundance of the universe in ignorance.  I cannot claim the privilege of freedom when I am uneducated and unwilling to experiment with the “recipes” of life.

I’ve heard it said that ignorance is bliss.  Sorry… but I have to call B.S. on that lie.

There is no bliss in ignorance because there is no freedom in ignorance.

And without freedom you are blocked in your path.  Blocked in your progress.  Blocked in your learning.  And certainly damned in your aspiration for deep, fulfilling joy.

Oops… I seem to have over-written my welcome.  Before I go, though, know this…

We tend to treat freedom as a noun.  An object to possess that is passed down from our fathers and our fathers’ fathers.  Something we will, in time, bequeath to our own children and their posterity.

It is not.

Freedom requires vision.

Freedom requires learning.

Freedom requires effort.

Freedom is hard work.

And every individual must gain his or her own personal freedom.  Your own personal freedom.

The gift our country and our forefathers give to us is not the gift of freedom itself… rather the gift of the right to freedom.

It is up to each of us to accept that gift and honor that right.

Misuse that right or misunderstand that freedom and you are as much a slave as any creature ever was.

Honor that gift and develop and grow your freedom and the mysteries and treasures of life are yours to create.

Which will you choose?

Friday, July 3, 2009

5-Star B&B Review…

Last week I discovered the best little bed & breakfast in Utah.  I have to tell you about it in case you’re ever up in Utah for a few days and need a great, cheap place to stay.

This place has excellent food for breakfast, lunch and dinner prepared by a wonderful chef (formerly from Lone Star).  Sierra even made the comment that it was just like a *real* family with homemade food for all three meals.  I don’t know the exact hours, but the kitchen seems to be open all day.  It was cooking hot breakfast before I woke up each day and was still going strong when I laid my head down each night.

The daily entertainment options were top-notch.  There was dancing, partying, games, outdoor activities, rock-climbing, regular comedy routines and usually at least 3 different acts to choose from at any given time.  To be honest, sometimes it was a challenge to avoid the entertainment variety on display from sun-up to sun-down each day.  Whether you’re into comedy, drama, theatre, dance, horror, or whatever… you’ll find it there.

In particular, the Princess Revue is a must see.  The quick-change costuming and breadth of scope are stunning.  I’m amazed that one show can have so many princess costumes and characters.  Truly amazing.  Kudos to the wardrobe department.

And the kids are not forgotten.  There’s a great slide towards the back of the property that I couldn’t pull my kids away from.  Hotel management calls it “The Stairs”, but to my kids it’s just a super fast slide (especially when you use a fully inflated camping mat as a sled).  Plus on-location amenities such as skitters, endless snacks and food, a big-screen TV and the previously mentioned entertainment was like a 24-hour babysitter for my 3 girls.

And the convenience can’t be beat.  Within walking distance of shopping, food (Arby’s, Nielson’s Custard and a plethora of other restaurants), 3 Redboxes, church, parks, and even a car dealership (something not overlooked by Holly), it’s a can’t miss.  I think for 2 straight days I didn’t drive my car.

The hotel staff seems to be up for just about anything.  From rock-climbing at a local gym to playing in the community center pool to virtually anything that got everyone out of their rooms and into somewhere else.  They’re even willing (almost anxious) for the staff entertainers to accompany you to wherever tickles your fancy.  Always quick with recommendations for all age groups, they’re a real life-saver in an unknown city with lots to do.

As a terrific added bonus, if you happen to have 3 shopaholic daughters, there is an on-site personal shopping coach (who looks an awful lot like the chef… and cleaning lady… and entertainment director) who will teach your children to clip coupons and shop intelligently.  It even includes an all-day personal shopping expedition at no additional charge.  Magnificent.

What would you expect to pay for such service and convenience?  On previous visits to the Salt Lake area I’ve stayed at the Hyatt, Hilton and Marriott.  Each of those costs more than $100 per night.  For a quaint Bed and Breakfast like this I expected to pay a premium.  Yet the entire 6-night stay for me and my kids (in 2 bedrooms) was had for just a $50 gift certificate to Ross.  Amazing, you say?  I agree!

So where is this wonderful little getaway?  Why, it’s Brooke’s house, of course.

I want to thank her for her patience and willingness to have her life interrupted for a week while my kids and I took over her house and life.  She’s awesome.  Much like Amy last summer, Brooke and her family were fantastic hosts.  It’s much appreciated.  And I love getting to know my sisters better.  And watching my kids get to play with distant cousins is always a joy.  Thank you.

And… based on the pattern I’m establishing… watch out Staci because next year looks like your turn ;-)

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Is She Awesome, Or What?

Andi’s really been getting into photography, Photoshop and scrapbooking over the past year.  Since I don’t have an eye (or an inkling) for that kind of stuff, I’ve done my best to support her in other ways.

That generally means whipping out the debit card for cameras, computers, scrapbooking materials, etc.  It also means introducing her to the basics of Photoshop and what it can do.

The help generally ends there, though.

Andi does photo editing in Photoshop.  I do web work.  It’s a big enough difference that she’s really on her own.  (Although she’s pressing me to break out the card again to send her to a Photoshop summer camp that doubles as a cruise to the Mexican Riviera.  We’ll see.)

But yesterday she got me involved in something else I can help with.  She asked me to show her how to set up a blog and website where she can share her pics and thoughts.

Ahhh… now that’s something I can get into.

So I got her going on her Mac (she’s the one that introduced me to the Mac when she insisted that I get her one).  I bought her a domain (bandyranderson.com) and got her all set up with web hosting and the works.  (There are some benefits that come from having a complete geek for a dad.  Not a lot.  But definitely some.)

I think she was up until 3:00am working on her site.  And she’s put in another few hours today.

She has the same concerns I do about blogging.  What do I say?  Who cares?  Will this be stupid?

Whatever.  She’s got her first post up.

And I have to say that her blog is waaaaay better than mine.  Crazy better.

And I’m definitely having a proud papa moment here.

Check this out (and make sure and leave a comment).  Could you do that?  Didn’t think so.  Come to think of it, neither could I.

Andi, I’m proud of you.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

My Human Sound Effect Machine

Saturday I bought Lauren a new notebook computer.  I think that was a good thing… but I have my doubts.

I got all the basics installed and asked her what else she wants to do with it.

“Image editing.”

No problem.  I use Adobe Photoshop routinely and I own several copies.  I would install that.

Nope.  That’s not the program she knows.

Corel PhotoPaint it is, then.

The only problem?  I don’t know Corel, so I’m not much help to her when she gets stuck.  I think we both underestimate how much that matters when Lauren wants to get something done quickly and easily on the computer.

So today she decides she’s going to use her new toy to make babysitting business cards for Andi for the summer.

And for the past 2 hours I’ve been sitting at my computer chuckling at her broad array of human sound effects as she figures out what she’s doing (it’s been years since she last used Corel).

Do you have anyone like that?

She chirps and squeals and grunts and growls.  Audible gasps.  Disheartened moans.  Brief fits of self-applause and congratulatory oooohs and aaaaahs.  All punctuated by random bursts of “No”, “Stop”, “What?”, “Why?”, “Wait” and my personal favorite…. “Hoooooneeeeey!”

That’s the drop everything voice where I know I’m about to have 1 less computer in the house unless I can hoof it into the other room in time to spare it’s promising and, as yet unfulfilled, digital life.

And this goes on for 2 solid hours.  High comedy.

I think the funniest part is that she clearly has no idea how comical it is.  Sometimes I hide right around the corner where she can’t easily see me and I watch her while she performs what I can only assume is some sort of traditional computer “rain dance” designed to deliver the results the desires.

Funny stuff.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

How Competitive Am I?

When Holly announced she was running for student body president a few weeks ago I took it as my short-term mission in life to make sure she won that election.

I mean, how would it look if a supposedly big-time marketer couldn’t get his daughter elected student body president?  Exactly, right?

Of course, it helps that Holly has popularity and charisma to spare.  That makes it easier.

But that’s not enough… I wanted something the kids would be talking about for weeks.

So Holly gave her election speech as an American Idol parody that she says kids still quote her on every day at school (that was 2 weeks ago).

And I gave her what little boost I could.  Friday is my usual day to go to lunch with Holly or Sierra.  I moved it to Monday of election week and had Lauren make up a little something special for me to wear…

Holly Pres Tattoo 1 Holly Pres Tattoo 2 Holly Pres Tattoo 3

Yep… those are tattoos.

And apparently when your dad shows up for lunch with election tattoos on his bald head it’s a ready-made recipe for *lots* of buzz.

Go figure.

Now I’m almost as famous as Holly.

Oh yeah… and Holly won.  Of course.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the 2009-10 Quail Run President-Elect… Holly Harward.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

1 World… 2 Views…

In the past 4 days I finished 2 astonishingly excellent books that prominently feature the Middle East.  I highly recommend both… for different reasons.

Three Cups of Tea is an amazing, inspirational story of American Greg Mortenson’s commitment and efforts to build schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan.  I’m not sure how you could read that book and not come away feeling a renewed sense of urgency to be your greatest contribution to the world.

Truly moving.  And it may very well change how you see the people of Pakistan and Afghanistan forever.  At least I hope it does.  Read it and see.

The other book is Hot, Flat and Crowded by Thomas L. Friedman.  It’s kind of a sequel to The World is Flat, which I read a few years ago.

Hot, Flat and Crowded is most definitely *not* a book for everyone.  It’s a much heavier read.  And it will likely have the polar opposite effect of Three Cups of Tea.  You’ll be frustrated, angry and indignant at the ignorance of our society and the disastrous environmental, political and social legacy we are passing on to our children and beyond.

It’s maddening.

So don’t read it if you’re looking for a pick-me-up.  If, however, you are looking to be emotionally charged and have your beliefs about our world severely challenged then read it.  Be prepared to dig deep to really confront the reality exposed.

And if you’re a business owner or manager at any level I would make it a must-read.  No question.  Again… it will change how you see the future of business and opportunity.  And, if you’re like me, you’ll be excited for your new vision.

It was purely accidental on my part, but I would recommend reading Hot, Flat and Crowded first, followed by Three Cups of Tea.  The latter book took some of the edge off the frustration presented by the first.

Regardless, both will expand your humanity and spirituality… although in vastly different ways.

This genre of books has produced some of my favorite reads over the past year.  I’d put both of these in the same class as The Kite Runner (another must read) and better than The World is Flat and A Thousand Splendid Suns.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

I'm Grateful For...

This is my very first post from my iPhone. Woohoo!

I've decided to try a new experiment and use my blog and iPhone combo as an on-demand gratitude journal. So... here goes.

Right now I'm grateful for technology that allows me to even do this.

And I'm most grateful right now for my wife Lauren. Because of other commitments she hasn't been able attend the marriage class I teach for several weeks.

I miss her when she's not there. It's surprising to me how much more difficult the class is to teach without her and her contribution.

Well... Today she was back in class. And I'm so grateful for her vision, intelligence and spirituality. And the fact that she's so willing to lean in and contribute.

Very cool! And I'm grateful for her and her support. She challenges me intellectually and (more importantly) spiritually. I need that.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Who Stole My Belly Button?

What's this?


It's a Dairy Queen Dilly Bar, of course! (As seen through the not-so-professional lens of my iPhone)

Maybe I'm the only one that remembers going to DQ to get a bag of Dilly Bars with Dad. Most often I remember going there to get a Family Home Evening treat. Sometimes it would be after a softball game. Other times for no real reason at all. Every time it was the best thing in the world.

I grew up with an inordinate amount of love for my local Dairy Queen (the one on 43rd & Dunlap, for you Phoenix folk). It was a spot I remember going when Dad wanted to reward us for absolutely no reason at all. And I can't remember a better feeling as a kid. Dairy Queen was a special place. In my (possibly distorted) memory it represented the pinnacle of the "just because" love that parents show from time to time.

What's funny is that after all these years I still feel the same about Dairy Queen. It continues to be one of my essential "go to" treats when I just want my kids to know how great they are. No reason at all. Just a small message from their dad.

Of course, they can't know what it really means to me. That this is one of the small ways that I can be like my Dad. That there's a connection and tradition in the Dilly Bar that somehow has become desperately important to me to keep alive.

So yesterday I was having a rough day. Painful. Too busy. Rushed.

And Andi had just been to the dentist for a temporary crown. And Lauren was running around getting ready to teach her college class. And I was quickly running out of time to prepare my Church History institute class. I was stressed. Lauren was stressed. Andi was stressed.

And I'm sitting in the Enterprise Car Rental office waiting to get my wonderfully sparse Dodge Avenger (woohoo) when I realize... it's time for the Dilly Bar.

See... that's the thing about the Dilly Bar. There's a "time" for it. I just know when it hits. And it was most definitely time.

Of course, nowadays I get a little let disappointed when I go get a pre-packaged box of Dilly Bars from DQ. It just isn't the same as getting the old bags out of the DQ freezer from when I was a kid.

You know what I'm talking about, right? You'd grab the bag that they made right there in the store. You knew they hand-dipped them in the store with their soft-serve ice cream because *ALL* Dilly Bars had the "belly button."

That was, without doubt, the single best part of the Dilly Bar. Chad and I *loved* the belly button. That was waaay more important than the flavor (butterscotch or chocolate, iirc). You needed the best belly button to have the best Dilly Bar. The "best" Belly Buttons were a magical fusion of symmetry, size, and the subjective quality of the "swirl" on the peak. It was an art form. And it was everything.

If you don't know what I'm talking about then you unquestionably missed out on one of the true joys of childhood. Ahhhhh, the Dilly Bar belly button *rocked*.

For a time I think Chad and I were the world's foremost connoisseurs of the Belly Button. We were the Randy Jackson and Simon Cowell of the Diary Queen Dilly Bar. We took it seriously. Seriously.


Oh, and they came in those little paper "sleeves" like you could never get away with today because of all the potential dangers. But all of those things made the Dilly Bar experience for me as a child. Untoppable. And nothing seemed more meaningful in the moment.

Well, today's Dilly Bars are different. I don't think DQ realized what they were messing with when they changed such a classic.

Now I buy them in a pre-packaged box that obviously comes from a factory somewhere. They're sealed in a plastic wrap like a popsicle. On the good side they have more flavors. Lauren wouldn't care so much for the Dilly Bar experience if they didn't now have one with crushed Heath Bar.

But here's what kills me. NO Belly Button!

What?

How is that even a Dilly Bar?

I try to explain to my kids the cosmic significance of the belly button. It doesn't work. It's just another one of dad's silly stories from when he was a kid (a specialty of mine).

And yet, even as I'm disappointed that Dairy Queen insists on messing with the best part of the Dilly Bar (and my memories of Dad), my kids think the Dilly Bar is the best treat you can get for no reason at all.

Because it means dad loves them. No strings. No conditions. And they must be magnificent because dad brought home Dilly Bars just for the heck of it. Oh, yeah!

Thanks Dad. The Dilly Bar lives! And still works ;-)

Sunday, February 1, 2009

4 Months Ahead of Schedule?

In an unusual turn of events I'm 4 months ahead of schedule for having my local sports team reach into my chest and ceremoniously rip my heart out.  Normally I have to wait all the way until May or June before the Suns take the annual honor.  Of course, they typically really build it up and make the most of it in a looooong, drawn out brutal playoff exit.  You know... so it's definitely worth the wait.

So it's with great pains that I announce that this year the Arizona Cardinals took care of the whole heart-stomping early in the year so I can get back to my life sooner than usual.  Heck... I may even skip the NBA playoffs altogether... you know, since that's what it looks like the Suns are going to do as well.

Oh well, great run by the Cards.  Hats of to 'em.  They pulled off the impossible for sure.  Fun to watch.  Probably shouldn't have even been there.  And, surprisingly, no less painful to witness their demise.  I was kind of hoping to ride my recent karmic tidal wave all the way to a super bowl title.  Nope.

On the bright side... this whole run by the Cards really caught me off guard.  I barely had time to get my arm warmed up for throwing the remote and my legs in shape for storming out of the room in disgust.  As a result, I was *not* in playoff form today and had to settle for a handful of screams and softly slinking away.  I still have a working TV *and* remote, though.

I must be losing my touch because Lauren and the kids didn't even feel the need to leave the house.  They actually invited *guests* over for the game.  What?  I'm not sure I can handle being emasculated so early in the year.  Next year I'll show up prepared and start working my unrealistic expectations into a frothy lather in early October.  Then I can really get into the NFL playoffs and make it hurt like it's supposed to.

Now let's all join hands and sing that familiar Arizona refrain... "There's always next year!"

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

25 Things...

Yesterday I got "tagged" by my sister Amy on Facebook with 25 "things" about her.  It was one of those lists where you have to send it to 25 other people.  I don't do those, btw.  However... her list was really cool.  And it inspired me.  And I feel different today than I usually do (go figure).

So instead of passing it along to 25 people (I know, I know... I'll break the chain and have all kinds of bad luck and yada, yada, yada.  Bad luck doesn't scare me so much anymore) I decided to go out on a limb and post my 25 things here, on my blog.  Besides... I'm not sure I know 25 people I can send it to.

I have a *lot* more readers on my other blog, but this is still a stretch for me and I'm uncomfortable doing it.  Whatever.

So, here they are... 25 random things about me.  Be kind...

1. I normally would never *ever* do one of these things or pass it on. Today I feel differently.

2. I'm writing a book called "This is the Place: Finding Yourself in Life Through Tribulation." I'm sure that title won't stick. It's a book about how we can use the experiences of the pioneers to the west to have full and complete lives. It's better than it sounds here ;-)

3. I think I'm addicted to chapstick. Seriously.

4. Breathe-Rights are the greatest sleep aid ever invented. Sometimes I wear mine all day.

5. I'm terribly uncomfortable in any social situation. I don't know what to say. If you ever think I'm having a good time and not self-conscious... I'm faking it. For real.

6. Sometimes I think God speaks to me. In those times even I think I'm crazy. I like being crazy.

7. Since my Dad passed I have no one left to really talk to. Sometimes I talk to him anyway.

8. I really like quantum physics. I believe in multiple parallel realities. Don't ask.

9. I fell in love with 3 women in my life. I am blessed to be married to the last. I would be lost without her. And broke. And homeless. And miserable.

10. I feel perfect when I am teaching and when I am a dad.

11. Pizza is my favorite food. It's not even close. It's probably my second favorite food as well.

12. In my life I want to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, hike across kauai and backpack through the ancient ruins in South America.

13. I wish I still spoke Spanish as well as I did when I lived in Uruguay. I'm sad that I didn't take the time and make the effort to keep speaking... and even learn a few more languages.

14. My biggest fear is that my kids will grow up and won't know what's truly important to me. They'll think it's work, or computers, or sports, or something else and won't know that what's truly important to me is them. They are my joy. I don't show it enough.

15. Sometimes when I teach I discover that I know things I didn't know. It sounds weird, but it's true. It's one of the reasons I think I'm a great teacher. The other reason is because I'm an even better learner.

16. I don't tell them enough, but my sisters are the best sisters in the world. I think that's because my mom is so great.

17. I hate the walls we've artificially constructed in society that make it okay to judge people because they are of a different race, religion, nationality, ethnicity, or social and economic background than us. That's stupid. I wish we could drop all the other "names" we assign people and just recognize we are brothers and sisters.

18. I'd like to rebuild a 1968 or 1969 Camaro. Camaros built after 1969 suck and we should all pretend they never happened.

19. I cry during movies. A lot. Especially inspirational ones like Renaissance Man or Mr. Holland's Opus. If you haven't seen those movies you should rent them tonight. Especially Mr. Holland's Opus.

20. The Phoenix Suns break my heart every year. I shouldn't care... and most years I swear I don't. But I do. I wish I could quit. I don't think I ever will.

21. I regret not going to college. It's not for the education I missed (which I didn't). It's for the relationships I never built. I don't know anyone.

22. I desperately wish I could sing. Nothing inspires me more regularly than music. I think it would be cool to have that gift. I shake my head at people that have the gift and don't share. It's selfish.

23. I listen to music to get myself in a good space before I speak or teach. I always end with "It's About Time" by John Denver. It reminds me of my Dad. Here are some of the artists I listen to when I want to be inspired: John Denver, Josh Groban, Vince Gill, and William Joseph. There are others but I don't remember them now.

24. I've listened to more than 500 books on my iPod. When you see me walking around with headphones on it's because I'm listening to a book. Not music. And, I'll let you in on another secret if you promise not to tell... a lot of the time I'm not listening to anything. But if I pretend like I am then people leave me alone.

25. My Dad is my hero. I want to grow up and be like him. Especially I want to love life like him. I have a lot to learn.

And... just for good measure... here are 5 more things because I'm feeling generous ;-)

26. Mac is better than Windows.  There.  I said it.  I feel so much better now... even though more than 90% of the income I've made in my life comes from Windows.

27. I used to be a Republican.  Then I was a Democrat.  Now I think it's really silly that I would categorize the complexity of my social and political beliefs in a single word.  Today I'm just me.

28. It took me longer than a day to write the first 12 items on this list.  It took so long because I care too much about what you think.  Somewhere deep inside I'm still not sure I'll actually click the "Publish Post" button and unleash this on the world.

29. "The Fountainhead" (Ayn Rand) is my favorite novel.

30. "Time For Me To Fly" by REO Speedwagon is the greatest song ever.  I don't know why.  It just is.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Do You Know The Answer?

Question: What do you get when you cross water, 18 degree temperatures and 65 MPH on highway 89?

Answer: Apparently you get this (click on the pics to see the whole thing - blogger wants to cut them off so they look pretty on my page)...


And this...



Or maybe this...


Now... ask me how I know this.

Last night I caught some black ice driving home from Utah.  I was between Panguitch and Kanab at about 10pm when I started sliding.  For style points I made sure to fish-tail back and forth several times before finally deciding to cross the oncoming traffic lane (no traffic) and barrel off the road and down the mountain.

It's funny how many complete thoughts your brain can have in a moment like that.  Everything seems so slow.  I clearly remember checking my seatbelt and making sure I was prepared for the rough landing.  I also remember wondering if I was about to drive off a cliff (it was pitch dark and my headlights just showed I was about to drop off into the netherworld.

But the weirdest part was thinking back to a Myth Busters episode where they showed the best position to be in when you crash a car.  Btw, contrary to popular belief, they said to brace for the impact... not relax.  Whatever.  I braced.  And I did it because I had a complete thought stream through my brain in a micro-second about the episode.  Like I said... weird.

After a brief, but exciting, extreme 4-wheel drive jaunt down the mountainside (about 75 yards) I got to the really fun part... the forest!

Again, it's odd how the mind works.  I remember coming up to the treeline and thinking "This is it... this is how I'm going to die."  I was prepared to go from 65 mph to 0 mph in about 7 nano-seconds and the space of roughly 8 inches.

Thank goodness for massive, hulking, oversized SUVs that we should never be driving in the first place.  My size and momentum ripped right through the tree (you can see where the tree hit in some of the front-end pics).  I'm sure I was every bit the picture of Al Gore's worst nightmare... A 14 mpg gas-guzzling, ozone depleting tank-of-a-vehicle doing my best impersonation of a Brazilian de-forestation squad.  What joy.

That's the good news.

The bad news is that tree catapulted my Rover up over the front (end-over-end) and onto the roof before finally landing on the driver's side.  I must have momentarily blacked out because hitting the tree is the last thing I remember from the actual crash.  Although I heard more details from the recovery team that got my car out... I ended up flipping through a fence before coming to rest in a stream with my front driver's side roof and door buried in the bed.

In my next conscious thought I was standing upright in my car with my feet where the driver's side window should be and my head up near the passenger door.  I don't have any recollection of undoing my seatbelt or wiggling into a standing position, which is odd.  I did a quick body check to make sure I still had all my important pieces and immediately felt a huge surge of...

Gratitude!

I remember being so overwhelmed with gratitude that I was somehow still alive... let alone in relatively good shape.  I was literally dumbstruck (or perhaps awestruck) with how grateful I was to be alive in that moment.

That was immediately followed by the most intense panic I have ever experienced.  One thing I noticed about those several minutes before I clawed my way back to the freeway is that there wasn't room enough for any more than one emotion at a time.  And with adrenaline surging through my body like never before it was as if each emotion I felt was magnified 100x.

So when I felt gratitude it was the most exquisite, powerful, rushing sort of gratitude.  And when I felt panic it was completely and totally encompassing.  There was nothing else.

I tried in vain to escape my freezing vehicle for several minutes (or at least it felt like that long... it may have been just a few seconds).  Because of the damage caused when I rolled, my passenger door (the only obvious escape route) would only open about 6 inches before the steel-on-steel contact stopped it from opening any more.

What does it say about society (and me) when all I could muster to think about in that moment is what they would do in the movies?  I considered trying to kick out the windshield (I've seen that in lots of movies).  It's not as easy at it looks, by the way.  I considered breaking a window... also not as easy as it looks.

In the end my emotions overtook me and I decided the thing I would do in my life at that moment was crumble in utter and absolute despair, the depth of which was bottomless and unfathomable.

That lasted about 10 seconds.

And then I decided it was time.  It was a really powerful moment.  And now I finally know what committed action looks and feels like.  Brett would be proud.  So would Dad.

It took all my strength, but I forced the door open enough to crawl through.  When I looked out I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was.  I was surrounded by utter darkness.  I didn't know which direction I came from or where the road was.  It was terrifying.  It didn't matter.  (I hate to over-dramatize, but that's really what I was experiencing).

So I went back in my car for 2 things.  The first was my Garmin GPS.  I've got to give them props.  My GPS popped off my windshield and was thrown all over the place in the cab of my truck.  But I pulled it out and it worked (although my fingers were almost too frozen to turn the thing on... they should fix that ;-).  That got me back to the road.

And what was the only other thing I salvaged from my wreck?  Why, my 17" MacBook Pro, of course.  Now that, my friends, is a true geek!

Once outside my passenger door I found myself perched atop the side of my truck knowing I needed to jump down... but I couldn't see the ground or what I would be jumping in.  It's a strange state of being when my brain is screaming at me "if you jump you will undoubtedly break or dislocate your ankle.  Probably both." (I have a history of ankle problems).  My brain was absolutely sure of that.  But something else was saying "whatever. "  I knew I had to jump.

I jumped.

I vaguely remember scrambling up the side of the hill towards the road.  I wasn't aware that I was literally clawing my way up the slope until later when my frozen and bloody fingers started to thaw... very painfully.

About half way up I saw a car pass by on the road.  I was devastated.  I knew they couldn't see me and I didn't know when I would get another chance to be picked up.  According to the sheriff, there was no way they would have spotted my car (or me) until daylight because of how far I travelled and where I landed.

Upon reaching the road I pulled  out my phone and miraculously I had a 1-bar signal.  I had about 2 feet of space to move where I had any signal at all.  The 911 operator wanted to know what mile marker I was at.  I didn't know.

But wait... I had a better idea.  I could tell her to within 9 feet using my trusty Garmin GPS.  I gave her the coords.  Then... silence.  Then... "Okay, but do you know what mile marker you're at so I can get someone to you?"

Wow.  I mean... wow.  Really?  A 911 operator doesn't know how to use GPS coordinates?  That's surprising.  So even though they actually had my position to within a few feet, the best I could do was tell her I was about 20 miles outside Kanab.  Well done.

While talking to 911 I was picked up by Kurt from SLC.  Thank you, Kurt!  (Which, by the way, I absolutely take as a sign from a higher power that the Cardinals will win the Super Bowl ;-).  How can I not see that symbolism?

He drove me until we saw the ambulance headed out the 89.  How's this for strange... I got out of Kurt's car, walked across the street to the ambulance, stepped into the ambulance using the crew entrance (not the back door) and then laid down on a back board and had my head and neck immobilized.  It was just a little comical... even at the time.

That's all the interesting stuff.  Not much of a story after that.

I went to the Kane County ER in Kanab and had a CT-Scan.  No broken neck.  So I've got that going for me.

And, can I just say that small-town emergency rooms could not be more different than what I'm used to in Phoenix.  I was the only one there.  And the doctor sat in a chair next to me and told stories and brought me drinks and basically just sat around with me until the specialist reading my CT-Scan results (over the internet, I might add) got back with the diagnosis.

Oh, and before I forget, if you ever have the opportunity to be strapped and immobilized in a neck brace on a back board, my advice would be to pass.  Seriously.  Just pass.  It's not fun.  And it's hard to breathe and swallow and just about anything a normal human being needs to do every 2 seconds, or so.

When I was discharged from the ER one of the nurses drove me to a local hotel (where the doctor had already made me a reservation).  She also offered to take me to get a bite to eat.  I declined.  Can you beat small-town service.  I think not.

This morning I heard from Progessive Insurance (I'm very impressed with them so far).  They took 1 look at my Land Rover and didn't even bother to write an estimate.  It's totaled 2x over they said.  I'll have a check on Thursday.

The worst part right now is I'm stranded in Kanab.  I mean, it's a great town, and all... but there are no rental cars, no shuttles, no cabs, no buses.  I need to get home.  Luckily I have great friends who will drop everything to assist.  Thank you Chris!

And thank you also to Brett and James who offered the same and I know they meant it.  And I know there are many others who would do the same if asked.  It's really cool to know that I have people.

The police, tow truck divers, and insurance adjustor all say I'm lucky to be alive.  You probably can't tell from the photos, but the front driver's side roof is collapsed past the headrest.  I couldn't get back in and sit in the driver's seat right now because my head won't fit.

I've tried and tried, and I honestly cannot see how I escaped serious head injury or death.  It doesn't make sense to me.  I think my most traumatic moment came when I actually saw the car.  I don't remember all the thrashing and banging that must have caused that damage.  I don't remember the roof collapsing on my head (which it clearly did).  I don't remember how I came to be standing safely in the middle of my cab.

But I did.  And you can believe I was very, very lucky.  Lucky that the collapsed roof somehow missed my noggin.  Lucky to force my way out of the car and find my way to the road (the part that the sheriff seemed most surprised by).  Lucky my phone worked.  Lucky for everything else.

But I have to tell you... I believe there's something more.  Energetically I feel stronger than I have in years.  Maybe it's the whole cheating death thing.  Maybe it's something else.  But I believe.  I can't even say in what.  Just simply that I believe.  And it's intoxicating and powerful and deeply spiritual.  And I wish I could share it with everyone... especially Dad.  But it's also private and personal and uniquely mine.

I hurt.

I'm damaged and broken.

And I believe.

Weird, huh?

Monday, January 5, 2009

Wow... I'm a jerk!

Okay... now I'm a little embarrassed.

So I'm searching for my sisters' blog URLs so I can go back and edit my original post with hyperlinks to their blogs.  And do you know what I discovered?  Another of my (many) sister's has a blog that she's been posting to for awhile now.  How could I not know this?  Am I that out of touch... or just that much of a jerk?  Sadly, it's probably a little of both.

Anyway, I don't want Kristen to feel left out so here's a link to her blog.

By the way, bonus points to whoever can point me to my last sister's blog that I don't know about ;-)

Don't You Just Hate Sisters?

Aaaargh... I have 2 sisters who just started blogging.  They made some sort of a pact to do it everyday and actually keep everyone else informed of their lives.  What's up with that?  Don't they know we're the Harwards and we're supposed to live blissfully in ignorance of the lives lived outside of our own?

So I wander over to their blogs and they're actually really good.  And it makes me think I should be doing the same thing.  Which is really irritating.  You know the feeling... when one of your siblings actually has a good idea and you know you should be doing it too, only it's actually going to take time and effort and a little bit of thought each day.  How DARE they go and do something like that?

Well, I'm in.  Even though I wasn't invited to their little blog party.  I'm in.

Downside to my blog: There's simply no way I can compete with screaming kids and being a full-time mom when it comes to stuff to blog about each day.  If that's your gig you're much better off reading Brooke's blog or Amy's blog.  I bow to their seemingly never-ending energy and commitment.

Upside to my blog: Ummm... can't think of one yet, but I'm sure something will materialize eventually.  I'm actually kind of excited to see what I have to say every day.