Wow. Hard to believe I've been at this blogging thing for over a year. But there it is. Been quite a year too.
Started basketball practice for a new crop of young men today. Had two on the verge of puking and four in tears.
It was a good day :D
It certainly could have been worse. I was supposed to be in Japan this week. Thank the Almighty for small favors.
Saturday evening, my family got together to celebrate my brother's birthday. My mom, however, was at a women's retreat so the planning was left to my father.
Probably not the best idea.
The plan was to meet at a local pizza place. Turns out that was mostly so my nephew would join us. He decided not to come. And my brother, the birthday boy, had pizza the night before.
Spoo!
So we're all standing around outside this pizza joint that doesn't have seating for 5, let alone the nine of us. And my 78-year-old father and 52-year-old brother look at me and ask "So what do we do?"
...
Let me give you a little background here. I'm the youngest of seven. Waaaaaay youngest. My oldest brother turned 56 this year. I'm 34. My mother was too pregnant with me to attend my brother's college graduation. I've always been the baby (albeit an enormously large baby now). Respect from my siblings, particularly my brothers, has been very rare.
Non-existent would be closer.
My father was always in charge. If he had doubts, us kids never saw them. Dad is solid. Unshakable. He's got a faith that puts Job to shame. Natural disasters would crash against my father's will and bow to their master.
So here is my brother. Not the eldest, but still 18 years my senior. And my father - the rock that never cracks. Turning to me for direction on what we should do.
I immediately checked the sky for airborne pork and felt around to make sure that untamed primates weren't escaping from various bodily orifices. A thermometer in hell probably sounded an alarm.
Very weird.
And yet, not so terribly shocking at the same time. At home, I'm a dad: someone who speaks with the voice of authority and booms pronouncements of doom with the voice of Zeus. At school, I'm the coach. I vocalize my demands in a voice heard in the next county and even the slightest hesitation to accede to my wishes is met with the 4 most hated words in the gym:
"Get on the line!"
And now work has me in a position to make decisions. Decisions that affect others and their assignments. Decisions that change processes and how our products are made. Decisions that could make us money or cost us more. And get me fired. And get others fired.
Seems my life is about me being in charge. People call me "Mister" and I don't even think to look around for my dad. I know they mean me. SO I told my dad and brother what we were gonna do. And we did it. And it worked out OK. Sorta. I also ended up picking up the tab. :|
How did this happen? Am I that old already? When did I grow up? Just because I don't even worry if I try to buy alcohol at the store and I forgot my ID. No one has carded me in years. Some workmates are shocked to learn I'm under 40. I don't feel that old. Is the money I make and the respect I get worth the loss of my perceived youth?
What's a year worth?
What about 15?
I guess I'll go take some pain killers, rub some Ben Gay on my aching legs, take my heart medication and think about it some more. If I can stay awake that long.
