Wow!

Guess I need to reduce the size of the photo onthe new header....

What's up with The Camping Machine?

If you read my last post you know that I have launched a new website called The Camping Machine. Long-time readers of this blog (most of whom have stopped reading as I have all but stopped posting) may remember this post and this one where I mentioned our travel trailer and the camping trips we have taken. Our family has had fun the past two years visiting national and state parks and doing the whole trailer camping thing. We enjoy spending time outdoors and seeing new places. The boys in particular really get excited as we prepare for each trip, and MBW and I believe this is a great way for us to spend time together as a family.

As a blogger I am drawn to the idea of communicating my thoughts and ideas with others. I like the idea of putting my posts out there, knowing that people are reading my words or looking at my photos and occasionally providing feedback (or pushback) on my views. I do check the stats on the blog to see how many people are reading and I get satisfaction when the numbers are trending up.

I consider myself a creative person – by nature, by schooling and by vocation. The Family Man blog has been a great creative outlet. I’ve enjoyed it and have learned a great deal about myself, my family and the people who have read my posts. But as you may have discerned, my passion for it has waned as I’ve felt limited by the format and, to an extent, the theme. This may be because I don’t know html at all and really couldn’t figure out how to customize the blog page to add any character. And while I realize the attraction for the readers is the content, not the packaging, I still felt constrained.

While making our annual summer trips towing The Camping Machine we have spent time on rural two-lane roads. At any significant hill our speed drops well below the posted limit, and the line of cars stacked up behind us grows quickly. Being the conscientious person that I am, I try to use pullouts, passing lanes or other opportunities to let those unencumbered with trailers to pass us. Often, however, someone will spend a long time behind our trailer, staring at the back end.

As a marketer by trade (I work in an advertising agency) I thought it would be interesting to build a website and see what kind of traffic I could generate by having the website url on the back bumper of the trailer. The fact that I don’t have a website to promote really didn’t enter my mind as I pondered the idea. I thought about putting the url for this blog on the back, but that didn’t really excite me. So I thought about it off and on over the winter as The Camping Machine sat on the RV pad next to our house, snug under its cover.

One day on a lark I went to one of those website domain search sites and typed in thecampingmachine.com, and lo and behold the url was available. I went ahead and bought it, not really knowing what, if anything, I would ever do with it. Over the next few weeks I tried to figure out how to put up a site. A year ago I had purchased Dreamweaver and put it on my compute, but I never made the time to learn how to use it. After the first couple of weeks I let it go and moved on to something else – like writing the science fiction novel.

As camping season drew closer I thought again about building a website and promoting it on the back of our rig. I went to Web.com and bought one of those ‘web-site-in-a-box’ solutions that promised an easy, step-by-step solution to building a website. Choosing from far too many templates I started work on it, and if you go here you’ll see the progress (or lack thereof) I’ve made. The solution is almost as simple as advertised, and although it does seem to have limitations there is quite a bit a novice like me can do with it.

Getting back to the original question, my thought for the site was to provide a larger frame for the blog. I still intend to write about the usual topics, but I’ll focus a bit more on the camping aspect during the summer and perhaps do more entries around where we go and what we see. I’ll be able to show more photography, another creative outlet of mine, and perhaps some of you will find that interesting. And I want to test my original hypothesis, which is that a captive audience can be motivated to action if they are exposed to a message long enough. I will be interested to see how many visitors the site gets once we get out on the road and start blocking traffic.

For those of you who aren’t campers, I will tell you the people you meet at campgrounds are by and large very nice folks. Many of them love to stroll over to the campers in the next site and visit about their rigs, where they’ve been and what they like to do on the road. I expect that some of them will see the url on the rig while it is parked in the campground and check out our site from the comfort of their oversized, overpriced luxury motor homes using the wireless internet connection provided by the KOA. I would not be surprised if some of their stories make in into the blog – in fact, I see this as a rich source of content that could provide for some very amusing tales.

One thing I was surprised to find was the lack of blogs from people who do the camping thing regularly. As I was assembling links for the Links page of the website I wanted to link to some blogs that would resonate with the camping audience, and I did not find many. Maybe the blog on The Camping Machine site will find readers among those who’ve looked for a camping blog.

Ultimately The Camping Machine website will replace this blog. The blog portion of the webite will be written by The Family Man, will sound like The Family Man and contain stories that would have appeared on The Family Man blog. In fact, if anyone knows how to link a Blogger blog to a regular web site please let me know and I’ll just change the name and bring this blog to The Camping Machine site.

If you go to the site now you’ll see I’m re-running some of my earlier Family Man posts. I’m trying to keep the content on that site fresh, and I actually am enjoying seeing some of my earlier posts again. People who visit the site as a result of puttering along behind the trailer for 45 minutes won’t know these posts are re-runs. Soon I will mix in new posts with the re-runs and it won’t belong before it is all new content.

So please check out the new website. If you are linking to this blog please change your link to The Camping Machine. If I don’t already link to your site, send me your link and I’ll put it on the site. And if you visit my site please give me your feedback and let me know what you think.

I’ll have to decide if I want to keep my sign-off. It is great to be the Family Man, but it’s a bit out of context on the new site.

"Okay, Okay, Okay!"

It’s funny, sometimes, how you can associate a person with a phrase they often say.

In our family each one of us has a phrase that we’re know for. MBWs phrase is “God, give me strength…” usually uttered after Tommy does something he shouldn’t, such as this. My phrase is “God bless it!” which, as you might have guessed, is the PG version of a much stronger statement – again, often delivered in a moment of frustration. An exasperated “Oh, man!” is what Chris says when he is told he can’t do something he wants to do right when he wants to do it. Tommy’s phrase is “Okay, okay okay!!!” when he is told, for the fifth time, to come to the dinner table and eat. We occasionally share a laugh when we hear each other saying these particular words. In fact, as I write this, I can hear the tone of voice and visualize the facial expression of MBW, Chris and Tommy as they say their trademark lines.

But for this particular post I will borrow Tommy’s phrase and say, “Okay, okay, okay!” And I’ll add to it by saying, “I’m sorry I haven’t posted. I’m sorry I haven’t written more. I’m sorry I have not kept up with my blog and have not visited yours.”

I think, if I can remember back that far, that in my last few posts I alluded to not feeling like I had the time to do the kind of writing I wanted to do. I believe I said I did not want to do short, update posts because this was never intended to be that kind of blog. Many people have blogs that are updated frequently and describe the daily activities of the writer and his/her friends and family. To be brutally honest the daily, mundane activities of my life are not worth the pixels required to communicate them to others, so in this blog I had (for the most part) elected to only expend pixels when I had something to say that I thought was worthy of your time, as well as mine. You may disagree, but I thought this post, this post, and and this one were interesting, amusing or touching, to one degree or another. That is the kind of writing I want to do.

But those moments don’t regularly come up twice a week and I had been running out of things to say. And when they did come up, I would think to myself, “I should post this on the blog”, but I wouldn’t get around to it. There was always something else that had to be done. When there was time, the moments I considered writing about had passed and I couldn’t recall the details that would have made the post interesting. When I sat down to write, I could only think of the trite, everyday moments that don’t make for interesting reading. As vain as this may sound, I did not want to waste your time, or mine, with a mindless, empty, vapid post.

Hence, the lack of words for the last 7 months or so.

It’s not like I haven’t been doing anything else. I’ve not been sitting around watching TV when I could have been writing for this blog – if you read this you know that. I have changed jobs yet again, begun working on a new website, skied with the family about 15 times and I’m coaching soccer once again. I’ve promised Chris and Tommy I would teach them how to catch fish – and actually this weekend we are going to the local lake to try fishing for the very first time. But there’s one thing, more than any other, that has taken time away from writing for this blog.

I’m trying to write a novel.

For the past 20 years I have had a story idea in my head. I would think about the story, and in particular the central character, off and on for weeks and months at a time. I would visualize scenes, dialog and settings as I commuted to work each day. The one thing I didn’t do was actually site down and write.

I’ve read more than one blog where the author talked about wanting to write a book. Some actually have contracts in place, others suspended their blog to write the book, and others blog about wanting to write a book. So it might be fair to say that blogging is a substitute, for some bloggers, for writing a novel. For me, blogging was a novelty, something new to try just to see how it would go. I honestly never expected anyone to read it, and I don’t know if you can imagine my genuine surprise when I started to receive comments from people who enjoyed what I had to say.

It was never about warming up to write a novel.

But when I hit my birthday last fall, realizing I was one year older and one year further removed from accomplishing anything, I made a commitment to take a shot at writing the story I have had in my head for so long. Time to put up or shut up. Make a legitimate effort to write the thing, or admit I wasn’t ever going to do it and stop thinking about it all the time.

Now if you are still reading this post, and if you’ve been a reader of this blog for any length of time, you might be thinking the book I have in mind is a family book. Maybe the story of my family, derived from some of the posts in this blog. Maybe you’re thinking it’s a story about a fictional family that goes though some of same things I’ve written about here.

Nope.

The story I want to write is science fiction.

The thing is I’m not really a huge science fiction guy. I’ve read my share of SF but I’m not a geek about it. I don’t do Star Trek. I like the original Dune stories but even that series wore on me after the second one; and the new series co-written by Frank Herbert’s son is a bit to bland and programmatic for me. So I’m not even really sure why I want to write this particular story.

But I do want to write it. I think it would make a good read. And I don’t think you’d have to be a SF geek to enjoy it. So I made the commitment and started to write the story in November. Yes, I sat down almost every night and put words on the screen. My goal was to write a chapter every month, and if I could stick to that I’d have a loose first draft in about 2 years.

So here I am, mid-May, and I have one chapter complete and the first page of chapter 2 done.

Not doing so well, am I?

But I’m sticking with it. I sit down and open the Word document almost every night, or at a minimum 5 nights a week. Some nights I make good progress, but most nights I struggle to get a paragraph complete. Writing that story does not flow nearly as easily as writing this post. For something I have thought about for so long, it just doesn’t seem to flow onto the page. What bothers me is when I go back and read what I’ve written, I don’t think it is very good.

So I’ll keep plugging along and see how it goes. My two-year time frame isn’t realistic, but maybe a four-year time frame is. Maybe the further along I go the more easily it will flow. Or maybe it will go nowhere. But at least I will have given it a fair shot.

I have received some email messages from people asking me why I stopped posting and if I planned to resume posting on this site. I think I've ansered the why I stopped, and, to quote my son – “Okay, Okay, Okay!” I promise to try to do better about posting here. There have been a couple of incidents that I think would make for good posts. And if you are reading this, please take a look at my new website. It’s more than just a travel site – it’s also a place for me to share photographs and talk about things outside of my Family Man role. In fact, if you remember this Family Man post, I will answer the question on my new site. It won’t be obvious, you’ll have to look for it, but I will put it there.

Thank you for reading.

It’s Great to be The Family Man

Hello Once again

Hi there.

I've been away a long time.

I've recently created a new web site. If you'd like to take a look, go here.

Thanks,
The Family Man

Lunch Meat

This is a true story.

It’s about 12:15 in the afternoon on a Tuesday in May 1988. A TV News Reporter and Cameraman are sitting in the station-issued Chevy Blazer news vehicle in the drive-through lane of a fast food restaurant. One of the major chains- I can’t remember which one – aren’t they really all the same anyway? They’re ordering lunch – the typical meat-on-a-bun fare. A staple in the diet of a mid-market news crew that’s always on deadline. It has to be quick as they are on their way to yet another boring interview on another boring story.

A call comes in over the two-way radio (this was in the day before cellphones were standard issue). “Unit six, please respond.”

The cameraman picks up the radio. “Unit six, go.”

The guy on the news desk on the other end of the radio says, “Fam, we need you to head up to Belmont, we have a report of a vehicle hit by a train.”

“Roger that,” the cameraman says. “Do you have the coordinates?”

“Not yet, we’re working on it,” the desk responds. “Start rolling that way and we’ll get back to you.”

“10-4,” the cameraman replies. “You’ll have to reschedule our interview.”

“Got it,” says the desk.

The cameraman sets the radio handset in the cradle as they pull up to the window and pick up their lunch.

The reporter says, “I’d rather do this anyway than interview that city councilman.” A pause. “It’s a good thing we got something to eat first.”

The cameraman replies, “Belmont is about 45 minutes from here. If we spend 30 minutes at the scene and take 50 minutes to get back to the station, we’ll be fine for the early news.”

They head out toward Belmont. It’s mostly on the freeway, out of the city and into the rural area north of town. Mid-day there isn’t much traffic. It’s a nice spring day, a bit on the cool side but with the promise of summer just around the corner. Bright blue skies. A nice day for a drive – albeit toward what is probably a tragic incident.

Along the way the news desk calls back with two pieces of information. First are the coordinates – the crew now knows exactly where to go. The reporter pulls out the map (again, this is the pre-GPS era) and becomes the navigator for the cameraman.

The second piece of information is the outcome. “This one’s a fatal, guys,” the news desk says. “One victim.”

“Roger that,’ says the cameraman. The mood turns somber, but the sense of urgency increases. Now this will probably be the lead story on what had been, to this point, a light news day.

The crew drives on, exiting the freeway and turning toward Belmont, ending up on a two-lane blacktop through gently rolling, wooded hills. After 10 minutes or so, they crest a small rise and see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles ahead. As they get closer they can see the train crossing. The arms are down, lights still flashing. Two police cars, an ambulance and a fire truck are off on the shoulders of the road.

The cameraman parks the vehicle, goes around to the back and pulls out his gear. The reporter joins him, notepad in hand, and together they walk up to the crossing. Glancing about, the cameraman notices they are the news first crew to arrive.

They approach a police officer standing at the crossing. There are two tracks that cross the road here. There is not much traffic on this road, but occasionally a car will approach from one side or the other. The officer is here to wave the cars through, after looking down the tracks, as the crossing arms are locked down while the scene is investigated.

There’s no elegant way to ask. The reporter says to the officer, “What happened?

This is background only. The crew wants to get a sense of what’s going on before taping any interviews. The cameraman has set up his camera on the tripod and is getting some establishing shots of the scene as the reporter talks to the cop.

The officer says, “A vehicle was hit by a northbound train going between 55-60 miles an hour. There was one occupant in the vehicle, who is deceased.”

Hearing this, the reporter glances up the tracks to the north. The cameraman swings his camera up that way, resets his focus and zooms down the line. There’s not much to see, though, as the tracks begin to curve to the east and out of sight.

The officer continues, “The train had no warning. The vehicle pulled onto the tracks while the arms were down. Impact occurred before the engineer could hit the brakes.”

The cameraman is beginning to see, through the camera lens, debris along the side of the tracks. It’s difficult to tell exactly what he is seeing. Nothing he’s seen so far appears to be parts of the vehicle, but there is definitely ‘stuff’ along the tracks, beginning about 50 yards from the crossing and continuing until the track bends out of sight into the trees.

The reporter asks the cop, “How could the driver not see the train coming? The crossing arms were down at the time, weren’t they?”

The officer responded, “According to the train engineer, the arms were down. The vehicle was going around the arms when it was struck by the train.” He paused, the continued, “Apparently another train was on one of the tracks as the vehicle approached the crossing. The first train passed, but the crossing arms did not go up. The driver of the vehicle tried to go around the arms and was struck by a second train, coming from the other direction, on the second set of tracks.”

The cameraman picked up his camera and tripod and walked back to the spot where the vehicle would have parked as it waited for the train to go by. He panned his camera slowly, from what would have been the driver of the vehicle’s point of view. It became clear to the cameraman what the vehicle driver must have seen. The first train, heading south, passed on the near set of tracks. As it went by, it screened the driver’s view of a northbound train as it approached. He wouldn’t have heard it, assuming what he was hearing was the sound of the train that just passed.

The cameraman picked up his gear, walked around the crossing arm, and stood in the road between the two sets of tracks. Looking south, where the train would have been approaching, he tried to imagine the surprise, shock and horror the driver of the vehicle must have felt as he saw the train. He realized he was standing in precisely the spot where the train would have struck the vehicle.

The death zone.

This was the first time, he realized, the cameraman had stood in the exact spot where less than two hours ago another person had lost their life.

He was no stranger to death, of course. He had come to learn the old adage, ‘if it bleeds, it leads,’ is true in local TV News. He had seen his share of dead bodies, crime scenes where murders and grisly accidents had taken place. But this was the first time he stood on the exact piece of ground where someone took their last breath, saw their last sight, thought their last thought – in this case, most likely, “oh, sh--!!”

This cameraman was an introspective, contemplative sort. It was a sobering experience to stand here and record the images that would tell of the last moments of this person. At the same time, he had been around the block long enough to have developed a method of coping, of doing his job and not letting his emotions get in the way.

He finished getting his shots, picked up his gear, and made his way back to the reporter who was still talking to the cop. The two had been joined by the Lieutenant, who was supervising the scene. He agreed to speak on camera, giving the crew the requisite ‘sound bites’ that would be used to tell the story. He repeated the basic facts – a vehicle went around the railroad track crossing arms, which were functioning and in the down position during the accident. One train had passed the crossing, the crossing warning sign arms did not go up, the vehicle attempted to go around the crossing arms and was struck by a second train coming from the opposite direction. One vehicle occupant, killed on impact.

The reporter asked, “What type of vehicle was it?”

The police Lieutenant said, “I can’t release that information until the victims’ next of kin has been notified.”

After a couple of additional questions the interview was completed. The cameraman turned the camera off and asked the cop, “Can we hike down the track and get some footage of the scene?”

The officer replied, “You can go as far as you like, but the train is almost a mile away. This train was heavy and traveling at a high rate of speed. It takes a train like that a long time to stop, even when the brakes are locked up. It’s quite a hike to get to the engine.”

The cameraman and reporter conferred. “We don’t have time to get that footage and still make the early news,” the reporter said. “Let’s just go a little ways doen the line, get some debris footage and head back to the station.”

The officer said, “Be my guest, but watch where you step.”

The reporter said, “What do you mean?”

The officer said, “Off the record?”

“Sure,” said the reporter.

“The vehicle that was hit was a catering truck,” said the officer, “one of those ‘mobile lunch wagons’ that visit factories and manufacturing sites. It basically exploded on impact. There’s all kinds of lunch meat and food scattered down the line.”

He paused, took a breath and continued, “We aren’t sure we’ve found all of the body parts of the victim. We don’t have enough to make a positive ID. We assume there was only one victim because the company dispatcher told us who the driver was. We’re looking right now for something we can make a positive ID with – some dental work, a hand we can get a finger print from, something like that.”

“So, if you want to go down there and shoot some video, go ahead. But please don’t touch anything. And as I said, watch where you step.” He paused, and said, “and I wouldn’t do any snacking if you find something you think came from the truck.”

The cameraman and reporter look at each other.

“Let’s just get some shots from here and get going,” said the reporter to the cameraman. “Do you have enough footage?”

“I need a bit more. Give me a minute or two,” the cameraman replied.

The reporter went back to the news vehicle and got inside. The cameraman took his camera and shot for another two minutes or so, packed up and went back to the news vehicle. After stowing his gear, he got into the driver’s seat, started up, turned the car around and began to head back to the station.

They drove in silence for awhile – the reporter thinking about how to tell the story, the cameraman thinking about what he had seen and felt.

After a few minutes, the reporter reached into the lunch bag he got at the drive through earlier that day. He reached into the bag and pulled out his half eaten sandwich. He looked at it for a moment – the cameraman wondering if he would actually take a bite of the cold, soggy meal. Instead, the reporter looked up and said, “There’s a moral to this story, you know.”

“What’s that?” said the cameraman.

Taking a bite, through a mouthful of food, the reporter said, “It’s better to EAT the meat than BE the meat.”

It’s Great to be The Family Man.

If you enjoyed this post, visit The Camping Machine)to read more like it.

Cool Summer

It’s been quite a summer for The Family Man as well as for the Mann family. How to recap an entire summer in a blog post? Let’s try.

In my last post I described our first trip of the summer in The Camping Machine. Over the rest of the summer we took six additional trips. When all was said and done we visited three National Parks and four state parks, a beautiful mountain lake and a very nice local campground. Chris and Tommy really enjoy camping and have become very good travelers in the car, as many of these trips required several hours over the road. For those of you who have not pulled a large trailer over mountain passes, it adds quite a bit of time to the journey. The good news is you can make a ‘pit stop’ almost anywhere – and believe me, we have.

We took quite a few pictures, but I’ve become a bit leery about posting photos of the boys on this site. Without going into much detail, a couple of emails I’ve received have made me reconsider posting those photos. Which is sad, because I’ve taken some very nice pictures that would add interest and context to this post, but you’ll just have to use your imagination.

Some of you may remember I signed up to coach Chris’s soccer team. We had a great spring soccer season. Chris had a lot of fun, he scored a dozen or so goals and his team went (unofficially) 6-2. I say unofficially because this is a recreational league, and no scores are standings are kept. Still, it’s hard not to keep a running mental tally as the games go on of the score and which team had more goals.

But there’s more to the soccer story. Tommy turned four years old this summer, making him old enough to play in the city rec soccer league just like his older brother. Chris also has a summer birthday, and he turned six. So just as Tommy finally became old enough to play, Chris turning six moved him up into the next age group in the same program. That means both boys were going to play soccer in the fall session, running from mid-August through mid-October, but they could not be on the same team. Chris asked me if I was going to coach his team again, and of course I said yes. Then Tommy says, “You’re going to coach my team too, aren’t you, Dad?”

Well, how could I say no?

So the past seven weeks I’ve coached two soccer teams. Two different weekly practices, two games on Saturday. It’s been very busy. It’s also been a lot of fun, even if it has been hectic at times. This Saturday will be the last game of the season for both boys, both teams. Form a win/loss perspective this ‘season’ has been a disaster. Chris’s team won their first game 2-0, and has lost every game since. Tommy’s team has done even worse- they have not won a single game, and they have failed to score a goal in 6 of the seven games. They have been steamrolled every time. Now I see why we don’t keep an official score and standings for these leagues – the teams that are just aging into a new age group get crushed during that first season.

I took a new job over the summer. It’s a much better position for me, a much better fit for my skills and temperament than my last position. The unfortunate thing is that this new job requires a 30-mile commute each way. So I am enjoying my work more but I am missing out on family time. Not the happiest situation, but life is a series of trade-offs.

We had to spend a small fortune to have new windows installed and the stucco finish on our home removed and replaced. We were having some leaks around some of the windows. Once the windows were installed and the stucco removed we discovered the builders had used substandard material when building the house, so we had to replace nearly all of the wood outside the frame of the home. The project took six weeks and completely emptied our savings account. The good news is we prevented serious mold problems from developing in the home – which would have exacerbated Tommy’s asthma problem significantly.

MBW had one of those ‘zero’ birthdays last month – you know, a birthday when you turn a year that ends in a zero. I won’t way which one, but you can probably guess. Actually, if you were to see her you would guess 10 years to low, so she continues to look fabulous. I will be the first to admit that I am the last person you should ask for advice regarding the big issues of life, but guys, listen to me on this one – choose your life partner carefully. If you marry well, anything else that happens to you will be easier to deal with if you have selected the right partner. Conversely, if you choose your life partner poorly, no other run of good fortune will compensate for a bad marriage.

I continue to struggle with the same themes/issues I have talked about in this blog for the past year or so. A middle-aged man on the downhill side of life expectancy, working in Corporate white-collar America, blessed with good health, a wonderful family and a decent income; but feeling trapped in the industrial bureaucracy, beginning to think he has forfeited a chance to do something he is passionate about. Wondering, in fact, what he is passionate about. Between the job, family responsibilities and a failing struggle to stay in shape, finding there is not any time to ponder what he really wants to do. Worried the sand is slipping ever more quickly through the hourglass, trying (sometimes unsuccessfully) not to dwell on the many missed opportunities in his life and hoping not to miss the next opportunity that may or may not present itself. Comforted by the fact he is doing the right thing (most of the time) for his family, wondering if that is all there is left for him.

So you can see it has, in fact, been a busy summer.

One of the other themes I’ve touched on in this blog is the desire for our family to be a family that does things, not one that watches things. That’s why we bought The Camping Machine and made a strong effort to get out and go places this summer. I feel good about what our family did this summer. I really hope that once our kids are off to college (hopefully on some kind of scholarship!) they’ll look back on these years and remember the trips we took and the fun we had. They may not remember this summer specifically - watching Old Faithful erupt, running their hands over dinosaur bone fossils, standing on a ledge overlooking the Colorado River 1,000 feet below. They’ll have the photos, if not the memories. I hope they will look back at what we did, and want to continue to be active and engaged in life, not passively watching life go by.

That’s one reason why I’ve not been a more active blogger. I’m trying to do things, and that leaves less time to write about things. And I don’t seem to be able to sit down and write a quick update post and think anyone will care enough to read it. I’ve tried to make each of my posts substantial, to tell a story, convey an idea or thought. That sort of writing takes time for a blockhead like me. When I first started this blog it was new and exciting, and I was passionate about it. But it has become more and more difficult to keep up, and the passion has waned. While I’m not prepared to give this up altogether, and do hope to post more frequently than I have recently, I really don’t know how often or substantially I’ll be able to post.

So for those of you have continued to check back once in a while, thank you. I’ll keep the blog up on Blogger and try to post when I can. I’ve long since stopped checking the site stats every day like I used to. Way back when, in the days when Waiter Rant linked to this blog, I have about 250 readers a day. It fell off and held steady at about 50 or so a day for a long time. Last week it was down to 8. If I posted more often, it wouldn’t have dropped off so much.

But honestly, I’ve been too busy to worry about that. Still, for those of you who continue to check in every so often, thank you. If I don’t think I’ll be able to post again, I’ll take this down so you don’t have to wonder. As long as it’s still up, it is my intention to try to post something when I can.

So – until the next update,

It’s still Great to be The Family Man.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

Yes, it’s me. I know, I haven’t written in a long time. Months. Okay, over a year. I feel bad about it.

But the reason is, well…you’re dead. And it feels sort of weird to be writing to a dead person.

Yes, it’s been just over a year since you died. Memorial Day 2005. Sometimes if feels like it was just yesterday – other times it feels like it was a lifetime ago.

This Memorial Day we visited your gravesite. Yes, you were cremated, and your ashes were scattered into the ocean at sunrise, just as you had asked. I made sure we honored your request. But I kept a small amount of your ashes and had them buried here, so we'd all have a place to go to remember you.

Memorial Day will never be the same for me now, and this year was the first year to actually understand how much it has changed. This year we took the boys camping in The Camping Machine – just like last year. Remember last year? Well, no, I guess you wouldn’t, but I’ll never forget it. We had just returned from camping, our very first trip with the Camping Machine. We were unloading our gear when my phone rang – my sister telling me the doctors told her you had hours to live.

Do you know what it’s like to get a call like that? Not very much fun. Even though I’d sort of been expecting something like that, given how your health had been going downhill, nothing can prepare you for the call when it actually comes. And of course, it only gets worse from there. Wondering if I was going to make it to your bedside, 2000 miles away, before you passed away. Cross-country red-eye flights are lousy anyway – even worse when you’re racing the Grim Reaper. Finally getting there with, as it turns out, 90 minutes to spare.

90 minutes. Do you remember anything I said to you? Did any of it makes sense? By then, or course, you couldn’t talk. The doctor told me you could hear, and comprehend, but I wonder. I wonder if you heard me, I wonder if you understood.

90 minutes should be long enough to say goodbye – well, it is, but it isn’t. Because I can barely remember anything I said to you, my last words to you. I think for a time there I was babbling about inconsequential stuff, just talking, making no sense. How do you prepare to say your final goodbye? How do you sum up a lifetime of shared experience, a lifetime of thanks, in 90 minutes? What can you possibly say?

Well, I don’t know – all I know is that I didn’t do it.

In the past year I’ve thought of all the things I wish I had said. So many things I wish I could have told you. How grateful I am for all that you did for me over the course of my life. All the times I should have said “Thank you.” All the times I should have said something…but was too busy, too selfish, too preoccupied with my own business.

Yet, somehow, I think that wherever you are right now, you understand. Because you always did understand me. That’s the only thing that gives me some measure of comfort; that because you know me so well, you know that I did the best I could.

So a year has gone by. I still catch myself once in a while thinking, “I’ll have to tell Mom about this,” only to realize I can’t call you or send you photos. It happens less often these days, but it still happens.

Mostly I want to tell you how the boys are doing. I want to tell you about how well Chris did in Kindergarten. It’s hard to believe he’ll be going to First Grade this fall. As a former teacher I know you would appreciate hearing about his time in school. He really is very bright and was near the top of his kindergarten class. He’s a social kid and has made lots of friends. I want to tell you about how well he did in soccer this spring…and how much fun I had being his coach. The Mighty Green Dragons finished 6-2 in the spring season, and we’re looking ahead to the fall season.

I want to tell you about Tommy, our wild child, the boy with the mind of his own. I can almost hear you chuckling now. I know you would admire his spunk. You’d probably say, “That’s the Irish in him,” and I’m sure you’re right. As difficult and trying as he can be, the truth is I admire his fierce independence myself – I’m not going to try to break him. And I want to tell you how excited he is that this fall he will finally get to play soccer too, just like Chris, complete with a real uniform, his own team and real league games. Even though he won’t be in the same age bracket as Chris, he’ll finally get to play instead of watch. And yes, I’ll be his coach too.

I want to tell you about our camping trips. I know you would love to hear the stories from Chris and Tommy, telling you all the neat things they have seen and done on our tips. They really love hooking up ‘The Camping Machine’ and going someplace to see and do new things. They loved our recent trip to Dinosaur National Monument, and in fact they are still roaring like T-Rexes. Now they are anxiously awaiting our trip to Yellowstone National Park over the 4th of July – they want to see the water that shoots up into the air right from the ground. I promised them we would be a family that would do things together, and I think you’d be pleased that we’re doing just that.

I want you to know that I married very well. MBW is a wonder mother to the boys and a great partner for me. I wish you could have had the happy and fulfilling marriage that I am fortunate enough to have. We’re building avery nice life together.

Even my Old Friend is still hanging in there. Can you believe my cat is 19 years old? Sure, he can’t jump up on the bed anymore, and he sleeps a lot, but the vet says he’s healthy and he’ll still take a swat at Tommy if he pulls his tail too hard. You always had a soft spot in your heart for animals – your own and anyone else’s. I’m sure you’d be glad to know my cat gets lots of love.

Yes, I wish I could tell you all these things. But I wonder if you already know. What is it like, where you are? Are you able to look in on what we’re doing? Does it work like that? Does your spirit drop by from time to time, taking a look around, keeping up with how your son and grandkids are doing? Or is it really just over?

I kind of always thought you’d find a way to make your presence known, to somehow let me know you were out there, There was only one time that I had that feeling, and even then I wasn’t sure. I think Tommy got a stronger sense of you. Maybe he has more of that spiritual awareness about him. Or maybe he's more like you - that indomitable spirit. I don't know.

Anyway, Mom, I just thought I’d drop you this note to let you know I’m thinking about you. I just want to let you know we’re all doing well. My knee is healing, slowly but surely. It still hurts but I’m walking around without a brace and hopefully I’ll be mostly healed by this fall. The job is kind of a drag, but it pays reasonably well and, after all, I’m working to live, not living to work. I’m reasonably healthy, the family is healthy, we’ve got food on the table, a few dollars in the bank and health insurance. Life is good.

I’m blessed.

But I still miss you. I hope you can see what we’re doing. I hope you can see that I am trying very hard to be a good dad, to raise my boys right, to be actively engaged in their daily lives. To be a dad that makes a difference. I am an Ordinary Man, mom – nothing special. But I have an extraordinary family, an extraordinary change to make a difference in the lives of two very special kids. And I’m going to do the very best I can.

Someday, hopefully not anytime soon, it will be my time to go. Perhaps then we’ll get together and I’ll be able to tell you all these things. I hope, if it works out that way, you’ll be able to say, “I’m proud of you, son. You were a great dad.”

That would mean more than you could know.

Thanks for everything, Mom.

Thanks for listening.

It’s great to be The Family Man.