My kids love the Star Wars trilogy.  Whenever they come over to spend the night we inevitably end up watching one of the original 3 films.  And I love looking at my son during that pivotal scene in Episode V and telling him in my terrible attempt to imitate James Earl Jones, “Daniel. I am your father.”

 

But the Star Wars trilogy is more that just the best collection of fantasy films out there (sorry to all you LOTR fans, but there really is no comparison).  It is a study of life and destiny.  Of how we are all meant to do something specific in our lives and perhaps in the lives of others.  It’s about fate leading and guiding us.  About overcoming the obstacles in our lives to achieve that ultimate goal which we all have set for ourselves.

 

But is there such a thing as destiny?  If we are destined to accomplish something, does it matter what our decisions are today?  If we eventually are going to get there, is our role simply reduced to choosing between the short way or the long way?  The concept of destiny further diminishes the needs for “What If’s”, because everything happens for a reason, right?

 

Everything may happen for a reason, but I believe we are the captains of our own destiny.  We alone control the paths we follow.  We alone determine if we will chase a dream and make that pursuit worth the effort, or if we will take the easy way out.  It is up to us to not only recognize when fate gives us options along our journey, but also to consciously decide which option we will take.  Every fork in the road is fate smiling on us and asking, “Which way do you want to go?”

 

And we need to choose.  Everyone has different thought processes they follow when making a decision, but the key is to decide.  The key is to take command of your life and live it to the fullest.

 

Lee Ann Womack says it best in her song “I Hope You Dance”.  “I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance / Never settle for the path of least resistance / Livin’ might mean takin’ chances, but they're worth takin’ / Lovin’ might be a mistake but it's worth makin’”

 

Destiny does not exist with out conscious decisions.  Destiny cannot be fulfilled by merely standing still.  Life is not a passive activity.  Life is short and should not be wasted on uncertainties and “I don’t know”.  Make your own destiny and seize your future by being true to your heart and living life to its fullest. 

 

I don’t know what my destiny is.  I like to think I have an idea and I like to think I am traveling down the path of fate.  But I will not make this journey with blinders over my eyes.  I will take the time to stop and smell the roses.  To enjoy the offerings that life gives us everyday.  To be cautiously reckless and intelligently immature.  To take Ms. Womack’s advice and dance!

Don’t you love it how kids have like five or six best friends?  The fact their statement is oxymoronic (is that even a word?) is what makes it so cute.  It’s the same with my daughter and her favorite color.  Pink….and red…..and purple….and…oh yeah, green!  The concept of putting one above all else escapes them.  Yet it makes you wonder if we, as adults, can do the same.  And yes, I am making a huge assumption that adults are reading my blog.

But when it comes to friends, can we really have one friend who trumps and supersedes all?  Is it possible to have a best friend?  How would you choose?  What would be the selection criteria?  Isn’t friendship contextual?  Can you compare friends across situations, genders, experiences and points in time?  We almost need Oscar-like categories for our friends!  “And the nominees for the best friend in the ‘Shit, man.  I am so wasted.  Please don’t let me go home with the ugly chick’ category are………..”  As an aside to all our young, male readers out there.  You NEVER let your buddy go home ugly.  That is, of course, unless he owes you money and you know he will never repay you.

But seriously, how can we pick one friend to hold the title of Best?  I look back at friendships past and present and I thank God for making me fortunate enough to have an incredible collection of friends.  Like I mention on the home page to this site, I cannot name just one person as the most influential in my life.  Similarly, I cannot bestow upon one of my many friends the lofty (or not-so-lofty) title of Best.  ……..or can I?

Is my best friend the one who saves me from killer bees after dumping my dirt bike onto their hive? (I swear those bastards were out to get me!).  Is my best friend the person who bought new shoes to go with the new dress that was purchased ‘just in case’ I needed a date for a charity event?  And yes, I know you women don’t really NEED an excuse to buy shoes.  Is my best friend the one who listens to me as I rattle off about this and that, no matter how late in the night it is?  Is my best friend the one who meets me for coffee at 1:00 AM after my ‘near-death’ experience?  Is my best friend the one whose cats I allow to massage my back?  And these are just my ‘been there for me over the last six months’ friends. 

I can go back 15 years and list friends who were there for me then.  Those who helped shape me into who I am today.  The friend who played racquetball with me every Saturday for about 3 hours straight.  The friend who first made me realize and understand the concept of what it’s like to truly grow up.  And of course, the person who did hold the title of best friend for such a long, long time.

The truth is that they are all vying for second place.  They are all jockeying for a place on the list that caps at the number 2 because the number 1 spot is reserved.  Like that really cool table at that really cool club, all these friends can do is walk by and admire the little name tent that reads ‘Reserved’.  For if I have to differentiate one friend from all the rest, it would have to be the one who knows me best, understands me best, and accepts me the most.  And believe me, doing all that in respect to yours truly is no small feat to accomplish. 

My kid has several ‘favorite’ colors because she is too young, and has no real reason to differentiate one from all the others.  She is not capable of deciding in the context of picking one to be ‘forever’.  Similarly, I am not capable of deciding between protecting myself and chasing a dream.  All I know is that whatever I do, I can only hope it works out for the best.

Back in January I wrote about the two most used words in the English language.  I still believe 'Thank You' reigns supreme as part of our everyday lingo. (If it doesn’t, it should!). However, lately I have been uttering two different words with a bit more frequency.

 

What if….?

 

We ask ourselves that everyday, don’t we?  And the irony is that I harped about how we need to be decisive and make decisions, not sit and be paralyzed by choice.  But how often after making a choice do we look back and wonder if it was indeed the right one.  We come to forks in the road everyday.  Soup or salad?  Ranch or Italian?  Pepper or no pepper?  One decision begets another which begets another.  And that’s just lunch!

 

I look back at the past seven months and see nothing but a sea of What If’s.  What if that call never came in August?  What if that call never came in November?  What if I had been more patient and understanding?  What if I had held on a little tighter?  What if I didn't have to walk by the merchandise table that night?  What if we met under different circumstances?  What if it were less than 45 minutes away?  What if I have just one more pop-tart? Actually, I know the answer to that one and it’s Alka Seltzer!

 

How different would our lives be if there was one less domino in the chain?  If we made a left at Albuquerque instead of a right?  The second guessing becomes second nature.  It burns inside of us.  It eats away at our subconscious, and if we let it, the lining of our stomach, too.  Too much what if’ing leads to a gun-shy attitude that can many times lead to a “What the F” attitude, and that is usually more bad than good.

 

We will never know because it is not the path we chose.  To dwell and think too much about a What If is useless and futile.  It does not solve any problems.  Quite the contrary, it usually creates more problems born from resentment, sadness and frustration.   We must play the hand we’re dealt because in life you can’t just get up and walk away from the table (although there are some situations where all you need to do if get up and leave.  All it takes is a concious decision).

 

There is not clear cut, right answer, and making the decision is the real triumph.  We will always look back at past decisions, some that have been good and others that were tragically bad.  The trick is not to obsess on these decisions (or indecisions) but rather to learn from them.  And it is in looking back that we are able to look forward. 

 

May all your decisions leave you free of “What If’s”!

To say last night was life defining would be an understatement.  To say that last night was totally amazing would not do justice to the actual experience of the evening.  Last night was magnificent because I attended the Lyrics for Life charity event in Tampa and got to meet one of my inspirations and role models, Ken Block. 

For those of you who don’t know, Ken is the lead singer for Sister Hazel.  Yes, the same Sister Hazel that just so happens to be my favorite band.  And for those who really don’t know, Ken founded Lyrics for Life after his brother Jeffrey succumbed to cancer.  In the past two years alone, Lyrics for Life has raised over $300,000, and the goal is to see that number increase in the future.

I am proud to say I was part of that effort tonight.  I am also thrilled to mention that I not only got a chance to see Ken Block perform, but also to meet him and personally thank him for the inspiration he has given me.  To call myself a writer would be facetious.  To call Ken a role model and inspiration would be 100% accurate. 

I use my writing as a way of expressing my ideas, thoughts and beliefs. I like to think that Ken Block, as well as many other lyricists, do the same.  They use words and music to convey their feelings, experiences, and inner most thoughts.  It is a true gift to be able to do what Ken Block does.  I am humbled and amazed by the fact that Ken was willing to share a couple minutes of his time to talk with me and ‘just be a friend’. 

I hope to carry the momentum of this evening to pour myself into my writing and finally start some of those projects I have putting off for so long.  I also plan to cherish the memories of the event for it was truly impacting and amazing. 

If you ever get a chance to catch Sister Hazel in concert, do it.  And if you find something for which you are passionate, be it a charity, an organization or a person, pursue that passion with all that you have.  Allow yourself to be fulfilled in the knowledge that you are doing something rewarding and something that fills you with happiness.  Everything else is just static. 

Thanks again, Ken.  The evening and the show were completely awesome!

I sat in my shower today
In hopes I could wash all my troubles away
A curtain of water enveloped my soul
And I hoped these emotions would wash off and roll
Away, away, far away
As I sat in my shower today

 

I sat in my shower today
I sat there alone with nothing to say
Too tired to stand I had to sit down
I chuckled and thought of Jackson Browne
What would he write, what would he say
If he knew I sat in my shower today

 

I sat in my shower today
Wishing and wishing I could find a way
For a conscious decision to come through at last
Instead of those memories that are locked in the past
And there they would have to stay
As I sat in my shower today

 

I sat in my shower today
How could I let my feelings betray
My desire to grow despite all the doubt
What is the struggle and what’s it about
And self pity became my forte
As I sat in my shower today

 

I sat in my shower today
With millions of reasons for which I should pray
Turned off the water, I sat and air dried
The only drop left was the tear that I cried
My strength would just seep away
As I sat in my shower today

 

I sat in my shower tonight
My body was clean but it didn’t feel right
The stains on my spirit still found a way through
And still there was nothing for me left to do
Because I was just too tired to fight
As I laid in my bed
With the thoughts in my head
Wishing and hoping
Complaining and moping
Knowing tomorrow
Would just bring more sorrow
And my best friend and pal
Is a worm named Mescal
I’ve been through this before
And I’ll go through it some more
And I’ll manage a smile yet despite
I lie alone in my bedroom tonight…….

Today is my first unattached Valentine’s Day since 1990, and all I can say is, “Damn! Really?”  Well, at least my wallet is not as thin as it usually is this time of year.  Actually, it’s much, much thinner.

 

Before I get into the ‘meat’ of this posting – or given that it’s Valentine’s, the dark chocolate core – I do have a quick follow-up from yesterday’s entry.  I actually got a response from Dan Le Batard of the Miami Herald! I am thrilled and smiling this Valentine’s day, but for all the wrong reasons!

 

So, since I don’t have anyone for which to buy roses, chocolate or really cheap wine, I turn my affections to a woman who has gone on too long unrecognized in my little corner of cyber space.  This special woman is my mom.  I realized recently that with as much as I have written about or mentioned my father, I have totally neglected my mother in what I write.  And I hate to admit that this oversight is not entirely accidental.

 

See, my mom and I have always had a unique type of relationship.  I guess we never got close, at least not the same way my dad and I ended up getting close.  My relationship with my mom always was, and still continues to be, one of mother-son formality.  One where she is not my buddy, not my confidant, but my mom.  And the natural tension that exists between us is born in our distinct personalities.  It’s truly amazing how two people who share blood, experience, heritage and familiarity can be so incredibly different.

 

And if my dad coached me through my formative years, calling the plays from the sidelines and making me run them ‘in practice’ over and over until I got it right, my mom was the O-line that protected me.  My mom provided the pocket of safety for me to succeed.  She opened the holes through which I could blast through and move ahead in my career, be it academic, professional or personal.

 

It was my mother who bore the brunt of my father’s alcoholic rage in those ‘dark days’ of my early youth.  It was my mother who managed to feed a family of four on a $60 per week grocery budget.  It was my mother who stayed up late drawing maps of South America for my social studies project.  I was my mother who all too often went without so I would not have to.

 

And even though we all are limited by our flaws, my mother’s generosity and sincerity always overcome her lack of patience and need to ‘get involved’ in other people’s matters.  She is always looking out for me, always asking how I am doing, always worrying whether I am eating right, sleeping enough, drinking too much.  She’s a mom.  She’s my mom.  And she is the only mother I would ever want to have.  I am who I am because of her, and I mean that in a manner of gratefulness.  Because I believe success starts with parenting, and I got a major head start on everyone else by being born into my family. 

 

So on this special day, all I can say is, “Mom.  I love you.  I don’t tell you enough how much you mean to me, and it is significantly easier to tell you with these written words than over the phone, let alone in person.  You have always been there for me, and even though we don’t always see eye to eye, I know you understand me and love me, no matter what.  I know my recent choices, decisions, and actions may have left you saddened and disappointed at times, and I hope you forgive me for my mistakes.  I am so lucky to call you my mother, and you will always be a role model for me as I raise my children.  I love you and I thank you for everything you have given me.  Te quiero!”

 

….oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day!

First of all, my apologies to all my fans (both of them) for me taking such a long time between postings. I also want to say thank you for allowing me to vent in my last posting.  I can honestly tell you I am felling much better.  It’s amazing what a bag full of oatmeal-raisin cookies can do for the soul.

 

This entry actually came as a result of an e-mail I sent to Dan Le Batard, one of my favorite columnists from the Miami Herald.  He was commenting on why it would be a good idea for the Heat to sign Alonzo Mourning now that he has been released from the Toronto Raptors. <click here to read article>  And as much of a Heat fan as I am, I just have to say that this is a bad idea.  Here’s why.

 

Yes, objectively speaking, Zo returning to Miami is a good fit at the right price.  However, as Mr. Le Batard mentions, you don’t want to mess with the chemistry of a team that is not only winning now, but will only continue to win for the next several years.  As the rise of the New England Patriots and the demise of the New York Yankees prove, team chemistry has as much to do with winning as do talent and coaching. And if his argument has one flaw – and please understand that I say that sincerely and humbly as a fan – it is that Alonzo Mourning can check his ego at the door.

 

Alonzo was a superstar at Georgetown.  Alonzo was a superstar at Charlotte.  Alonzo WAS the Miami Heat in the 90’s!  And even though he’s pretty much been out of the game for a couple of years, I do not think that he will easily and causally accept his role as a role-player on a team that begins and ends with Shaquille O’Neal.  Especially playing for an unfamiliar coach in Stan Van Gundy.  If Pat Riley were still on the bench, I would be more accepting of the concept of Alonzo’s ego being held in check.

 

Let us not forget this is the same Zo that bolted South Florida for the greener pastures of the Meadowlands.  The Alonzo that saw success in New Jersey and decided to pursue a ring there rather than rebuild in Miami.  The same Alonzo who after sitting a year with a kidney ailment while still collecting a check from the Heat told a local sports anchor he did not owe anyone anything.  Not Pat Riley, not the Miami Heat, not the fans of South Florida. 

 

Excuse me?  He receives nothing but support and prayers from his teammates and fans and he doesn’t owe anything to anyone?  He receives cash for sitting out a year while he gets better and he doesn’t owe the organization anything?  He escapes to the Nets for more money and now that Miami is 25 games over .500 he wants back?

 

Wasn’t it his 6’10” ego that demanded a trade out of New Jersey?  Wasn’t it his sense of “I’m better than this!” that kept him from reporting to Toronto after he got his wish to be traded?  And now we expect him to learn humility overnight and play in Shaq’s shadow?

 

Again, it pains me to point this out to Mr. Le Batard, someone who is a role model for me and my fledging desire to become a writer.  But I feel the only thing that will result out of the Heat saying “Good Mourning, Miami” is a nasty hangover come playoff time.  Because sports history has taught us that large ego + large ego = bad chemistry.  Just ask the Big Aristotle……Kobe who?

Gaming can be addictive.  By gaming I refer to spending hours and hours of shooting bad guys on my Playstation, not playing the slots at the Hard Rock casino, although both are equally addictive vices.  Compounding the fact is the ability to play online.  To take on a complete stranger, perhaps halfway around the world, in what is never a meaningless game of Madden football. 

Every so often you will come up against a kid, or grown adult for that matter, who will ‘pull the plug’ on a game.  You intercept a pass and take it all the way back for six, or you go into halftime with a 49 point lead.  Now, I admit I have done my fair share of plug pulling.  It’s human nature I guess.  You get so frustrated you just turn the game off.  Heck, we do it on Sundays for real games.  I know I have turned off my fair share of Dolphins’ games, especially this past season.

And there are times when that mentality, that feeling, spills over into my real life.  Into my personal life.  I look at what I do, I look at who I am, I look at what I haven’t accomplished and I just want to start over.  F**k it! Reset.  Let’s try this again.  But I can’t.  There is no little green button to push like I have on my Playstation.  There is no deleting of accounts and records followed by the creation of new ones.  It feels sometimes that all that’s left is blank stares at the floor and head shaking.  Where did it all go wrong?

Where did I deviate from the path?  When did I become this person so ….. so ….. so different from who I am supposed to be?  I mean …. there was a plan.  Things were supposed to work out a certain way.  Career, kids, home.  It’s not supposed to be like this.  I was supposed to be the exception to everyday.  I was supposed to shine above everyone else.  I was supposed to be special and different and unique!  Dammit, I was supposed to make it!

…………………………………………….instead, I am a cliché’.  I am just another statistic.  I am one of those guys that people talk about.  The guy with all the potential who peeked just a little too early.

I mentioned that gaming can be addictive.  Actually, for me it’s just a way to make today become tomorrow.  What can really be addictive is self doubt.  And self doubt can lead to self loathing.  And the only thing worse than being miserable is being miserable all alone.  I think we all are forced by God to serve penance for things we have done.  One way or another, God finds a way to make us pay back our mistakes.  My penance is found not in acts of charity or great misfortune, but rather in being given time.  Time to think.  Time to dwell.  Time to obsess. 

They say time heals all wounds.  The funny thing is that sometimes time can make the wound just a little bit deeper.

Those of you who know me know that I am a huge fan of all teams Miami.  And yes, that includes the Panthers, even though I pulled for and rooted for and celebrated for the Lightning when they won the Cup last May.  Just call me a blasphemer.  I have also mentioned previously that I have very dreamy memories of my childhood. So what doees the first have to do with the second?  Quite simply, Dan Marino.

A very large part of my childhood memories were made possible by Don Shula, who in April of 1983, selected Dan Marino in the NFL draft.  I grew up watching the Miami Dolphins, living and dying as a kid with every win and loss.  From Bob Griese to Tony Nathan to Nat Moore to AJ Duhe (I wore #77 when I played for the Boys Club) I was a DolFan through and through, and even after the cavernous 2004 season, I still bleed Coral and Aqua.

But the drafting of Dan Marino was huge for various reasons.  It allowed the Dolphins to remain as one of the elite teams in the NFL.  It matured Miami’s offense from a traditional ground attack (see the glory years of Csonka, Kiick and Morris) to a never-before-seen aerial assault.  And it created a hero for many, many DolFans, none bigger than me.

So a day after his selection into the NFL Hall of Fame, I sit here with a smile on my face as I look back on the fond memories of watching Dan Marino play on Sundays.  I had the great fortune of watching him play live, both in the Orange Bowl and Joe Robbie Stadium, and of growing up in absolute admiration of a man who epitomized skill, competitiveness, and desire.  I am sure there is a 13 year old in Indianapolis right now who holds the same feelings for Peyton Manning. 

I am happy to see one of my heroes honored this way.  I am happy to have ‘been a part’ of those glory years in the 80’s and 90's, and I am happy to scour sites from Expedia to Orbitz to Travelocity as I start making travel plans for Canton in August.  (Damn right I’m going!)  And I know there was a lot of talk after September 11 about what makes a hero.  But if you take a look at what the consumate Pittsburgh Guy has done for the community of South Florida, you will know that his accomplishments on the field pale in comparison to those off the field.

So on this Super Bowl Sunday, I salute a hero on his well deserved honor.  I also have to blaspheme – again - and cheer for the Patriots (yes, the same Pats who are divisional opponents of the Dolphins!).  Because if there is anyone I dislike more than a fan from Boston, it’s a fan from Philadelphia.  C’mon….who boos Santa?

Don’t you just love those movies from the 80’s that taught us ‘life lessons’?  And how can 'The Karate Kid' not be in the top 3 all-time, 80’s cliché, moral-of-the-story, “..on a very special Blossom” list of movies?  Who doesn’t love Mr. Miyagi?  And what did we all learn from that movie (other than washing cars and painting houses can make you Bruce Lee)?  That we all need balance in our lives. 

 

Balance means many things to many people.  I am sure a high-wire performer has a different perspective of what balance is than, say, a soccer-mom.  But nevertheless, balance is crucial for both of them.  I had a marketing professor at USF (yes, I attended for 1 full semester!!) mention that it is very easy for a CEO to cater just to employees or just to shareholders or just to customers.  But successful CEO’s find that balance among all stakeholders, and doing so takes finesse. <Thanks again, Dr. Goolsby>

 

And it takes finesse, inner strength and the ability to think objectively to find balance in our personal lives.  All too often we find ourselves trapped in situations as a result of other people’s expectations, our own good intentions, or just plain bad luck.  And in the moments when our efforts and energies are expended disproportionately outwards, to and for everyone else, it is then that we need to ‘wax on, wax off’.  We need to do our own crane stance and find balance.

 

My mom is a great example.  She is very giving and very supportive, but I saw her spend the past two years expending so much of herself on everyone except herself.  With tending to my father and my grandmother, wanting to do just everything for her four grandchildren, and, of course, still finding the time to worry about my brother and me, she had no time for herself.  And I know people find pleasure in helping others or feel the obligation is justified.  But external commitments can become unhealthy, figuratively and literally.

 

And there is no absolute right or wrong answer in these scenarios.  There is no model to follow, no road map of what to do.  This is where the finesse comes in.  We each need to ask ourselves, objectively, how much is too much?  We need to remind ourselves of our personal goals and desires.  We need to assess the negative impact our actions have on ourselves, no matter how positive they may be for someone else.  We need to strive for balance in everything we do.

 

Do I spend enough time with my kids?  Am I appropriately focused at work?  Am I involved enough in my church and community?  When was the last time I did something just for myself?  These are questions we should ask ourselves daily, fully understanding that circumstances and fate can, and do, cause spikes and fluctuations in what’s important in our lives.  I don’t know if I have balance or if I ever will.  However, I hope that if I do find it, Elisabeth Shue is right there to give me a big ‘ol kiss!