The Next Generation.

So while on a recent trip to the only other town I've called home, I was reminded, oddly enough, of the security guard in my building.

I took a day-trip to Bellingham, WA, as some college friends were playing in a soccer tournament. So I decided to head-up and do what I've always done: sit on the sideline and mooch some beer while getting sunburned.

The soccer tournament has become an annual pilgrimage for me and my fellow Western Washington University Alums to get together and relive the old days...in my case, the good old days.

It is a great time and a fun way to reconnect where we all met and recount the old times while catching-up on the new.

But back to the security guard.

He is an older fella. Approaching/past retirement age, by my estimation. And he, like most folks in my building, pretty much kept to himself offering nothing more than the slightest nod of acknowledgment as I entered/left the elevator. I can't say that I blame him, security guards have the worst job on the planet, they are basically like the police- deemed a necessary evil by most and never there when they should be...except this poor old fella doesn't get a gun, or even a stick! Which may explain his standoffish nature.

However, my perception of this fellow changed a few months back. See, my building requires a magnetic key to enter the front door. A magnetic key that (apparently) requires a battery to operate. Well, one dark and stormy night (it really was), as I was stumbling home, intoxicated, I went to scan my key at the door and “Voila!” – Nada.

D'oh!

As I stood outside, drunk and poorly dressed for a night spent sleeping on the street corner, I began to ponder which corner of the entryway offered the most protection from the wind. After what felt like forever and just as my hope of another alternative began to fade, I looked in the front door and there he was, the security guard.

I beat on the door like a crazy person and flailed my arms about pointing to my key as I tried to pantomime “Technology has let me down again. Batteries suck. And I am cold and drunk, please don't make me sleep on the street, sir. I really do live here! Really!”

Either I am the best pantomime in the history of all mankind or the standoffish security guard has a heart. I'm voting for the latter.

Needless to say, I was able to get into my building and -Gasp- the security guard talked to me!

As it turns-out he, like most folks, is a heck of a nice guy. I came to find out that he lives far away from downtown Seattle as it was “way too pricey for a guy like him.”

So what does a soccer tournament in Bellingham have to do with a security guard who saved my drunk ass?

Glad you asked.

The soccer tournament reminded me of college. The security guard reminded me of my Dad.

I've never held education in a very high regard. School/college was just something that I did. It was not an option.

Until I finished at Western and entered the workforce, it never really dawned on me that folks didn't go to college or that getting a degree was that big of a deal.

But as I sat there at my old haunt, The Beaver Inn in Bellingham, surveying the day-time crowd of 'townies' as we referred to them in college (while looking down our noses a bit) I realized, these 'townies' were more of a reflection of my family than the people I was sitting with.

So does that mean that I look down my nose at my family?

Honestly, I probably have in the past, but as I look at the security guard, working into retirement doing what he has to do to get by, I come to appreciate the work ethic and nobility of the Workaday Average Joe, like my Dad. (I realize like I sound like a pompous above-the-fray a-hole in that last sentence, but it's the realization I had.) *By the way, Thank you Mom and Dad, I couldn't have done anything without you.

It's an interesting dichotomy, being the first generation to get a degree. In theory, the degree will better your station in life. Yet as a result of that education, you begin to see the world differently than those who put you in the position to make that jump.

Now let me say this, having a degree does not make you smarter/better than anyone else...it simply means you were willing to jump through hoops and could afford to do so. I know plenty of very intelligent people who do not have degrees, they just simply weren't dealt the same cards that I was...and many of those folks are no worse for the wear for it.

So how does one rectify the situation?

My Mom, is still Mom. Pops is still my Pops. And I still have my degree and will forever be a lil different than them for it.

Does getting a degree in your early-to mid-20's trump the life experience of those who have been working since high school?

Hell No.

Am I impressed by someone who had the intelligence and tenacity to get an advanced degree?

Heck yeah.
*I know, I just talked down the importance of a degree a couple of paragraphs ago. But they don't just give college diplomas away, there is some work involved.

So I guess I am still trying to figure it all out.

I'll get back to ya when I have it all dialed-in.

Don't hold your breath, my four-year degree took me five and a half years to complete...

The little things...

So there I was, sitting on the platform at the Pioneer Square station in the bus tunnel downtown. Minding my own business and people watching, while I waited for the bus to arrive and carry me off to my cube for another seven and a half hours of top-notch customer service. When a man caught my eye.

Looking less than 'put together,' this fella didn't so much strut as much as saunter down the platform. The man carried himself and was dressed in a way that some would classify as “thugged-out.” Given that the man was far older than I, (now 31) I was quick to pass judgment and write him off.

But just when you think you have the world figured-out, it goes and zigs...when you expect it to zag.

As I was sitting there passing judgment on this 'loser,' another bus arrived and an older woman who had been sitting next to me, got-up to hop-on. The woman had a rolling cart for her belongings and was having trouble getting it onto the bus.

To my surprise, the “thug” nearly tripped over himself as he ran over to assist the woman with her cart. All the while, what did I do? Sat there and did nothing.

It was a forehead slapping moment. I shook my head, chuckled and thought “Well, I got that one all kinds of wrong. Whoops.”

Needless to say, I was disappointed in myself.

The saying, “You can't judge a book by it's cover,” repeated over and over in my mind as I rode the bus (of shame) into work.

Sometimes it's the littlest things that can offer the greatest lessons.

I pride myself on embracing diversity and being open to other points of view...yet there I was writing-off a seemingly heck of a nice guy, based on nothing more than his appearance.

Life happens all around you. If you focus too much on yourself or the world as you want to see it, instead of how it is...you are going to miss out on a lot.

No real tidy sum-up to this post. Just one of those random “A Ha!” moments that I felt like sharing. So, just keep the eyes open for chances to grow.

Moving-on.

So I think I’ve finally decided to stop being angry.

I’ve finally decided some things just weren’t meant to be.

I’ve finally decided it’s time to accept the world as it is and just move-on.

I recently caught the deciding game of the opening round playoff series between the Los Angeles Lakers and the team formerly known as the Sonics. (Tip of the cap to ESPN’s Bill Simmons for coining the phrase.)

And I must say, I was impressed with the Oklahoma City Used-to-bes.

I came of sporting age in the mid-to-late ‘80s, smack dab in the middle of the Lakers versus Celtics, Bird versus Magic, “Showtime” hey-day of the NBA. And while I loved the game, I hated, Hated, HATED the Los Angeles Lakers.

So when I heard of the first round match-up pitting the Lakers versus the team formerly known as the Sonics, I was torn. Who should I root against, Magneto (the Lakers) or Dick Dastardly (the team formerly known as)? Which represented the lesser of the two evils?

Then I came across a column by Steve Kelly, an actual writer, in the Seattle Times. The title of the column was “It should be the Sonics playing the Lakers in the first round of the playoffs” and it struck me…

Man, we Seattlites must look bleepin’ PATHETIC. It’s been how many years since the Sonics left? And we’re still whining?

At that moment, I decided it was time to move-on.

Which, in reality, I think many Seattlites have done. As an example, I attribute much of the meteoric early success of Seattle’s new Major League Soccer franchise the Sounders FC, directly to the hole that was left by the departure of the Sonics. It was almost as if Seattle sports fans were/are saying “See, we can support a team. We really do appreciate it.”

But back to the NBA, which I had sworn-off out of bitterness that can only be mustered by one who has been scorned.

Yet, after seeing Kelly’s piece (well-written, as usual) I saw how infantile I and the Seattle fan base appeared, and decided it was time for me to grow-up.

I mean, you are never gonna meet the girl of your dreams if you spend all of your time stalking the Ex who dumped you.

So here’s my personal ad to the NBA:
Dear NBA,
I am a white male, age 30 (for a couple more weeks). I like food, music and spending excess income on sporting events. I’ve been out of the scene for a couple of years but am ready to start looking for a professional basketball team again. I have seen many who are taken and would like one to call my own. If interested please email me at: still.looking@needateam.com.

So I say, “Congrats,” to the team formerly known as the Sonics. It looks like the foundation laid here in Seattle, is starting to bear fruit. The system, management & team atmosphere they’ve established has been described as one of the best in the league. Props to Kevin Durant, he’s growing into the star everyone thought he could be on draft day. I cannot be angry with the players, as they had nothing to do with the business side of things. And to see KD crumpling to the floor with his head hanging low after the loss to the Lakers, I earned nothing but respect. He doesn’t have to, but he really seemed to care.

And I can’t hate on that.

I just hope that one day KD will return to Seattle to compete against a next generation incarnation of the Seattle Supersonics.

Until then, I’ll appreciate a game I love without sullying the experience with petty bitterness. Now if everyone else in the 206 could just get on-board with me.

So many light bulbs...

Well, as the six of you who read my blog may have noticed, I’ve taken a recent hiatus from the whole writing thing.

There are many a reason for my absence, not the least of which is laziness. But after 100+ posts, I noticed the blog was getting a bit stale.

Especially after my last post which I am pretty proud of and was seemingly well-received. I decided that I should take some time-off to recharge the batteries, in an attempt to keep all future posts on par with that last one. I mean, if you folks are gonna take the 5 minutes to read it, the least I can do is make it something worthwhile.

So given the decidedly ‘upbeat’ feel to my last post, I’ve decided to keep the “feel goods” coming. Which means that moving forward, I will try to focus on the positive. Disclaimer: I am not saying that I will never rant again, especially if I feel it needs to be said. But there is enough negativity in the world, just look at the news, why would I want to add to someone’s miserable day?

With that in mind, I present to you the first post of a new age.

And speaking of a new age, I am closing-out my 3^rd decade on this rock we call Earth and staring-down 31 pretty hard. But this year a few things started to really click for me. And honestly, it’s about damn time.

Topping the list of clicking items was a new mantra for life. Which, oddly enough, came to me while sitting on a bar stool.

I was chatting with a buddy about women and life in general and I muttered the following phrase, “You can’t live life assuming the worst possible outcome.”

It was yet another of those ‘light bulb’ moments that I keep talking about. And when I saw his eyes light-up as the idea bounced around in his cranium, I figured I might be on to something.

Now what does the phrase mean? To be honest, I am still trying to figure that out.

But since I coined the phrase* I figured I’d spout-off and share what I’ve got thus far.

For the first 18 years of my life and probably a good part of my 20’s I was the ‘good kid.’ I got good grades, worked hard and was dependable. I did what I thought everyone wanted me to do. Even if doing so didn’t always coincide with what I actually wanted to do or who I actually was.

Those pesky teenage years are always fraught with insecurities and figuring-out who you are. But as I got older, other folks seemed to be getting more comfortable in their skin and I just felt overworked. Instead of figuring-out who I was, I was too busy maintaining the expectations I perceived as being placed on me.

I didn’t know what would happen if I didn’t get an A or if I didn’t make it to work or if I didn’t…etc.

I’d been living life assuming the worst possible outcome. Or more concisely, I was living life to AVOID the worst possible outcome.

Which taken at face value, sounds like a reasonable way to live life. So I went on living that way, for years.

Then one day, as I sat on the edge of my bed, desperately trying to summon the will to trudge into a job I hated with the passion of 10 jihadists, I came to a realization.

While spending my time avoiding the worst possible outcomes, I was missing out on some really great experiences. If you always live to avoid trouble, you can never take an unnecessary risk. And at 30, I’m finding it’s the unnecessary risks that make life worth living. Sometimes the safe choice isn’t the right choice.

If you live life assuming the worst possible outcome, you’ll never approach a woman, because she’ll probably say ‘No.’

If you live life assuming the worst possible outcome, you’ll never travel because you have to save for that ‘rainy day’ which is probably never going to come.

You get the idea.

Living a safe, reasonable life, while all well and good, is pretty boring.

Life is a gift. Instead of treating it like a classic car that sits in the garage under a car cover, take it out for a spin on the coast! Sure, you run the risk of wrecking the car, but what’s the point of owning a convertible if you never take the top down?

I’ve been told that I don’t seem to care anymore. Not in a ‘Murdoch from the A-Team’ kinda way, but in a ‘Jimmy Buffet’ song kinda way.

Which is 100% correct, I don’t really care and I am less stressed as a result.

Do I have it all figured-out? Hell no.

But am I far more OK with that being the case? Hell yeah.

*If I didn’t coin that phrase and there’s credit I should be giving someone else, please leave a comment so that I can give props.

A simple Hello

So I had a nice revelation while riding the elevator in my building the other day.

The owners had recently started some maintenance on one of the two elevator cars, which I wasn’t too happy about. Even with both cars running, in an 18-story building, the wait time can be a little long. But I figured, maybe I’d get the chance to meet some of my neighbors.

While I am quite happy with my apartment and the amenities the building offers, my neighbors have left a bit to be desired. For the most part, folks seem to like to keep to themselves and are almost off-put by anything more than a head-nod or “Have a good day.” Damn that ‘Seattle nICE.’

That is, except for the cleaning lady.

She’s an older, petite, Asian woman, whom I see every morning on my way out the door. Her kind smile and friendly “Good morning,” make my commute a little more bearable.

It’s funny to see the little things that people pick-up on.

I never realized that I apparently respond to the cleaning lady’s morning greeting with a “Good morning to you, too.”

Until recently.

As I was taking the elevator downstairs, the cleaning lady got on a couple floors below mine. She usually waits for an empty elevator for her and her cart of cleaning supplies, but with one car running, she decided to hop-on. As she did, I said my usual “Hello.” And her response stopped me dead in my tracks.

“You are a good man.”

I was a bit puzzled and touched.

She went on to explain, “You are a good man, you always say hello to me. Thank you.”

Funny how that works. Two people, doing what they normally do, who see each other for mere seconds a day, are so affected by a seemingly innocuous interaction.

It was a light-bulb moment that illustrated the importance of paying attention to your actions.

You never know who’s paying attention or what the ramifications of your actions could be. Ask any parent and they’ll tell you that it’s amazing what kids pick-up on. I’d venture to say that idea permeates the ‘grown-up world’ as well.

It really doesn’t take much to smile and say “Hello,” to that person you pass everyday on your way into the office or to simply be kind to folks who cross your path.

Much as the cleaning lady’s simple “Hello,” makes my mornings, you could be doing something that makes a stranger’s day. I am pretty sure most of us have a stranger that we deal with daily who brings a smile to our face(s). Be sure to appreciate that little something as well.

By acknowledging both the actions of others and making an effort to extend a kind demeanor…I think you’ll find the big, scary world to be a much kinder and gentler place.

If this sounds a bit like the ‘pay it forward’ movement, it pretty much is.

So the next time you see that stranger, simply say “Thank you.”

It’s a small gesture of gratitude that just may end-up making someone’s day.

Edu-tax-cation

So I came home last week to a piece of mail that surprised me.

No, it wasn’t a delayed-delivery Christmas card with a crisp C-note in it…Darn it.

Instead, it was a ballot.

I had no idea there was a special election taking place and opened the ballot to see what pointless recount/initiative was causing all of the hullabaloo.

Color me embarrassed, but I soon realized the special election was about something I value greatly, education. The election was simple, the Seattle School District offered-up two levies for approval.

On the face, these levies appeared to be the Seattle School District foisting even more taxes upon the over-burdened citizens of Seattle. *I should say, the Seattle School District foisting even more taxes upon the over-burdened Property-Owning citizens of Seattle.

I note that last distinction because I’ve previously been a property owner and now understand what property taxes are. They can be a rather foreign concept to a renter, and my previous stance was to approve any property tax increases as it didn’t affect me…I also think kids deserve books and enjoy paved streets/public transit. So why not approve everything and let someone else foot the bill?

But I digress, as I delved into the nuts and bolts of the levies being proposed, I noted they were not proposing any new taxes, but simply requesting to maintain existing, but expiring levies.

Now that I am back to renting, I am on-board with approving property tax hikes, as long as they make sense. So I am not going to tell you how I voted, but I think you can figure it out. *I will note that even when I was a property owner, I stayed pretty true to my blue-state leanings and usually sided with tax increases, as long as I thought they served a greater good. By the way, Education = a greater good in my book.

There is no such thing as a free lunch. I hate the saying, as it’s pretty cliché, but it’s so damn true. As I hear of cuts to what I consider vital social programs: education, mental health, social services, all in the name of a balanced budget that is anything but, I get a lil fired-up. It is akin to cutting off the nose despite the face.

These programs (education especially) are in no less demand than this time last year, 4, or even 10 years ago. So why are they on the chopping block?

Simple answer- Politics.

Letting a levy expire is a backdoor way of lowering education spending without having to take the PR-hit that goes along with actually cutting education spending.

I’ll grant that every levy is a term-limited proposition. As such, everyone knows the levy will expire at some point. But I see levies as band-aids, not solutions. A levy is a short-term fix as a (hopefully) better long-term solution is researched and implemented.

That obviously hasn’t happened here. And the economy has worsened, so offsets to budget shortfalls by donations from the private sector have disappeared. Which only increases the need to, at a minimum, maintain current spending on education.

Not that any of this matters to me anyway.

I am a single fella with no kids who rents his house. So the tax hike won’t burden me, much the same way letting the levy expire won’t benefit me.

Yet here I am ranting away, Why?

Because a poorly educated populace does no one any favors. Isn’t giving kids a decent education worth a couple hundred bucks a year?

Poor education is not a blue or red issue. It’s a societal issue. Everyone is entitled to the right of being able to “read, write and arithmetic” regardless of political leanings. Kids are not a political token and education is not a place to cut corners, Period.

Maybe forcing senators and other such elected officials to take some of the unpaid furlough days they’ve forced on other lower-level public servants will drive the point home…

Coming clean.

Not sure if you heard the news, but Mark McGwire recently came clean about his use of steroids during his professional baseball career.

We all knew he did it. So why does the admission matter?

Well, the short answer is that the guy is trying to get into Baseball’s Hall of Fame and missed election again this year, going 0-for-4.

So much like Michael Vick’s ‘apology’ after getting caught, I see McGwire’s ‘seemingly sincere apology’ as nothing more than a PR-ploy.

McGwire, seeing his chance to make some money/stay relevant begin to fade, simply did what he had to do.

He lied. Again.

I doubt that McGwire is sincerely sorry about using steroids. (If he really was sorry, wouldn’t he have stopped using or admitted it sooner?)

However, I have no doubt that he’s sorry he got caught.

So why babble-on about it?

Simply, the guy put-up monster numbers while he was juiced. Without question, he was an exciting player to watch. And like it or not, his record-breaking pursuit of the single-season home run record did help bring Major League Baseball back from the brink after the strike of the early ‘90s. He was also elected to the All-Star team 12 times. That brief list didn’t do his career justice, as it is an impressive resume and one worthy of HOF discussion. However, the HOF also takes off-the-field actions into account as well. Just ask Pete Rose.

*I’ll note that McGwire wasn’t the only steroid-user to don a cap during his career. But he did lie, when he had the chance to come clean. And in doing so, has undoubtedly hurt his HOF chances.

So the major argument(s) for McGwire being admitted to the HOF is that juiced or not, he accomplished some unheard of feats. And he did so in a league where steroid use was rampant. Basically, he wasn’t the only one doing it and he was the best of those who were. So why penalize him alone and not the others who have yet to be caught?

To which I respond: What if I pose the same question to a different scenario—

Pablo Escobar wasn’t the only cartel boss in Central America, so why should he have been unfairly targeted for scrutiny by the government?

Some may think that is overly dramatic. But the logic is sound.

A fundamental principle was violated when McGwire took steroids. Whether there was a rule against using/testing for steroids is irrelevant. If in his mind, McGwire did nothing wrong, then why deny the actions until now?

The answer is simple -- Because he knew he was in the wrong.

McGwire is a cheater.

There is no lower form of athlete than a liar and a cheat.

And McGwire is both.

Both Escobar and McGwire were among the best at what they did. But, they attained such heights by employing illegal and immoral tactics and had no problem accepting the accolades as they were doled-out.

If you are bold enough to cheat, you should be man enough to accept the punishment.

But then again, if you are bold enough to cheat, you aren’t much of a man at all.

The Hall of Fame is for great men, and Mark McGwire is obviously neither.