A message to my Father

Father,

let me take a moment to thank you. For thirty years (twenty-five of which I remember) you have been a role model, a hero and a paradigm of what an upstanding, intelligent, hard-working, patient man and father should be.

From teaching me to ride a bike (speed equals balance, you would say) to taking me out on a summer evening to practice fielding ground balls. Your diligence and patience with me are the things I remember most clearly.

In preschool you would pick me up and take me back to your office. I'd find all your pens and use them to create colorful drawings, wasting precious ink in the process. Yet, you encouraged me to write stories to go along with my drawings. Perhaps you saw, at that early of an age, where my passion would lay...

When I think about all the lessons I've learned from you, both explicit (how to tie a tie, how to iron my pants to maintain a crease) and implicit (watching you interact with Mother and learning how to treat a woman properly), I can't imagine you not being there to not only guide me but also be the end goal on my path.

However, you're not the end goal. As you once told me, it is my job to do better than you, to go farther and achieve more. Lofty aspirations, but not impossible.

I would count it a success to match you but I thank you for instilling in me the drive, determination and the unwillingness to settle.

So, happy birthday. And, again, thank you for everything.

Paintball or, Battle for Dummies

I went paintballing over the the weekend. It was the activity of choice by one of my cousins for her birthday. She sent out a text message a few days ahead of the event.

"Hey! Finalized Bday plan: this Sunday, we are going paintballing!  They say to wear long sleeves, long pants, stuff you can move in and can get dirty. FYI: getting hit does hurt, but it's all in fun so hopefully we will all be ok! Let me know if you have any questions or concerns, and also that you've received this. Thanks and see you soon!!!"

The calm before the Storm...

When I received the text message, I laughed. The fact that she said getting hit hurts was clue enough about who would be attending this affair.

Some highlights:
- My cousin (the older sister of the birthday girl) saying "Gotcha, bitch!" after shooting an opponent.
-  One of the birthday girl's friends unloading several shots at close range into the facemask and head of an opponent even after he called himself out.
- Me shouting curses at a teammate for taking me out with "friendly fire."
- The birthday girl cowering in a corner, eyes wide behind her facemask, clutching her gun, saying repeatedly "is it okay? Is it okay?"

The aftermath: beaten down and battle-scarred

Suffice to say, we were generally outclassed in terms of equipment, paintballs and fervor for the sport. The photos do a great job of telling our tale. We spent three hours at the place and played two games. Then we went to On the Border for dinner.

I enjoyed the experience even though it was much more intense than the other times I played paintball. I've come to realize that, if I had the time and capital, paintball would be an activity I could really get into. That being said, if I don't play again I'll be okay with that.

Paris, Je t'aime, mais Je suis fatigué!

I spent New Years of 2012 in Paris, France. It was amazing. The City of Lights truely lived up to its name. Unfortunately, it's almost March which makes all of this old news. However, Facebook doesn't really allow for elaboration. Many of those photos have a humorous story attached to them. Below you'll find some of the ones that mean the most to me.



Eiffel Tower from my hotel balcony

 I still can't get over how close my hotel was to one of Paris' most well-recognized landmarks. I might, in fact, be overestimating the distance when I say it was a block away. At night, the tower is lit up and can be seen for miles, it even flashes at the top of every hour... Until 2 am, at which point all the light are shut off until tomorrow night. My cousins and I learned this the hard way on one of our many nights out and about. We were attempting to make our way back to the hotel using GPS on a cell phone but we kept saying, "once we see the Eiffel Tower we'll know we're home." We assumed it would be lit up, it was not. At one point, we stood on a corner trying to figure out which way the GPS was telling us to go when my cousin blurts out, "hey, isn't that the Eiffel Tower over there?" We could just barely make it out in the darkness and fog. Suffice to say, as landmarks go, it's great. Just be home before the lights go out!



L'Arc de Triomphe at 5am

 Paris reminded me of both Chicago and New York City. Like Chicago, the place was open late. My cousins and ended up wandering up the Champs-Élysées around 5 am when I got this picture of the Arc de Triomphe. Even at that hour there were people on the street. Much like New York, Parisien fashion was progressive and it gave the entire city a cosmopolitan feeling that blended well with the "Old World" feel of much of the architecture and historical landmarks. It's a feeling that you can't duplicate living in the States and I really enjoyed it while I was there.



Me and my Chicago cousins.
Guest characters on my BET sitcom!

 Some of my best travel memories involve my family. I am so thankful for this for several reasons. I appreciate and love the fact that I am close enough with my cousins that the idea of vacationing with them is exciting. I look forward to family gatherings where we can sit around and talk about the various trips we've been on together. I also love that we're all old enough to enjoy the nighttime acctractions our vaction spots have to offer. It's no fun when someone gets left out and now that will never happen again. All of our trips are a blessing and I'm happy to be included.

As the title suggests, the vaction was awesome even though I was only there for a short time. The memories generated and the new friends made will last a lifetime, j'espère!

On Parenting

Last week I was a parent. I found myself responsible for three youngsters between the ages of nine and fifteen. It was three days of waking up at 5:30 a.m., cooking breakfast, dropping kiddies off at school in the morning, picking up kiddies in the afternoon when school let out, cooking dinner for three and making sure everyone got in bed in a timely fashion. While 5:30 a.m. wasn't especially pleasant, I feel pretty good that the three days went well.

I got the call to "babysit" because my cousin and her husband were going out of town to Las Vegas for a work-related conference. I was up to the challenge because her kids are old enough to more or less get up and get dressed on their own. I was needed more as a cook, chauffeur and alarm clock. It reminded me of when I was their age and my father would wake me and my sister up and then cook us breakfast. I couldn't help be be excited at the prospect of doing the same thing for them.

I won't bore you with the details of the three days, suffice to say that I got the job done and was a little impressed with myself for being able to get up and get them up and out of the house so that they were never late to school. I think a more interesting thing is that my cousin trusted me to take care of her kids. She obviously thinks I 'm responsible enough to take care of children. I'm not entirely sure why that is. I've told her on several occasions that I'm barely able to take care of myself.

Yet, her level of trust in me is something I can't ignore. Just like I can't ignore the fact that I more than rose to the challenge of taking care of her kids in her absence. I wouldn't go as far to say that this means I'm ready to be a father or anything like that. I'm fully aware that the financial commitment of raising a child is well beyond my current means. However, I like the fact that she thinks I'm ready for that amount of responsibility. It's good to know that there are others who think I'm prepared.