Courage

If you haven't yet, read the the line that is written above. Ok welcome back. Courage is my topic on my mind and not because of myself. I previously wrote a blog about my agent, Mike. Besides being a one man HR department he is the definition of courage. He would shrug that off and say it's stubbornness because he can't take a compliment. Think about a time when you were courageous....now prepare yourself to feel humbled.

Mike is a father of two little girls, they got their mom's good looks, he is an asst. principal, former football coach, and a very very positive guy. Did I mention he has had 10 surgeries.....on his right/ankle foot alone. Mike has a rare condition Charcot Marie Tooth, which I learned is a nerve disease commonly affecting feet. Mike has worn a boot, cast, crutches, you name it, on and off for the last 5 years I've known him. He never complained, never stopped working when he could, and all while letting us give him nicknames like McBoot. Within the last two years he decided to get his ankle fused at 90 degrees, which brought on more and more pain to the point that he was contemplating a steel rod. Don't get me wrong, I'm not writing this post because I want you to feel bad for him, send him cards, or anything...I'm writing it because this week Mike decided to go an even more courageous route by choosing amputation. For the first time since I've known him, Mike is in high spirits about his future walk-abouts. Within 4 weeks from his March surgery, Mike will be able to walk, bounce, and be pain free. I want you to read that line from the poster above again.....Mike is doing the brave thing, and then he's going to run like hell. Thoughts and prayers are with you Mike, not sympathy, just excitement and strength.

autofix

This is basically our new car, a GMC Acadia. It's the super cool version of a van. I'm not here to discuss it's level of sweetness, except for one feature. When I am listening to a song and really getting into it, yet right ahead there is a stop light that turns yellow. As I start to slow down the song's volume decreases also. As I start to speed up, the volume increases the faster I go. It's genius. It may seem like a small feature but the level of focus you attain as it gets quieter is amazing. I started to think, what if other things in life were like this?

What if I walked into an eatery and the waiter had already ordered the exact food I wanted that moment?

What if I got up in the morning and my alarm clock prioritized my day for me?

What if my laptop automatically ordered flowers for my wife before she even thought about being pissed at me?

You get the idea. The dual sunroofs are sweet, but the guy that invented that little nugget of volume control, I applaud you.

Bluetooth

Does this look like a happy couple? Of course...they are selling a product. But no one can be happy with that electronic megaphone sticking from your ear. I don't understand the bluetooth headset. I never did, and I can't understand it. (editors note: the only time I agree with a bluetooth headset is if you are driving, that's it). Why do you always need hands free access to your cell phone, every second? This couple is having dinner...having a nice conversation...then all of sudden duder starts talking about the stock market mid sentence because his broker just called. I see everyday folks walking thru the mall shopping and talking out loud, are they talking to me? Are they crazy and talking to themselves? Oh, wait a minute, they are talking to the bluetooth. I guess you could say I'm a bluetooth hater. I use my cell all the time, more than the average person, but I am going to still hate on the bluetooth. I blame Dick Tracy and the Secret Service. Dick had his watch to talk to people and the secret service had their ear thingies. People, you're not a crime fighter nor do you protect the President, pull the phone from your pocket and talk like everyone else.

Wrestling with dad

Lindsey and I somehow got on a conversation tonight about wrestling....I think it stemmed from my wife fighting our dog all over the floor. I laughed to myself and started telling her about the wrestling matches brad and I had with our dad in our living room. When we were little we used to square off with our pop in the center ring of our front room thinking we could take him. We would devise a plan, Brad goes straight on, I swing around the coffee table to attack from behind. We were like General Patton and Dwight D. Eisenhower on D-Day, ready to execute the attack that would alter history....the boy's taking out the old man. Nevertheless, brad would only divert his attention for a bit while he would take the brunt of the blow....when I would swoop in thinking I had a clear knock out shot, then wham. I was turned upside down and hanging from my dad's shoulder like a towel in a dryer. Dazed and confused I would struggle to search for my brother in arms, only to find him in the worst case scenario when wrestling dad....the leg lock. Dad had his lethal finishing move, much like hulk hogan dropping the leg, he would pin one of us between is legs of iron and shake us.

Have you ever been to a paint store and seen that machine that shakes up the paint buckets? That was dad's move. He would shake you into submission. It typically forced out extreme laughter from both of us. If you were the lucky one to not get the leg shake you had two options. 1) Make a break for it and leave your counterpart behind gasping for air in between chuckles or 2) you go for the risky removal of your brother. This took guts and strength that a 5 or 7 year old just didn't have. However, because of the bond we had, we typically went for option two. The end result was never good, sometimes we fell into the double leg lock, or worse, brad was released and I entered the temple of shaky shake. The only way out from this mess was the voice of an angel....mom. She had the key to our escape, she rang the final bell, and released us from the locker.

I bet he would still handle us.