Post Script to “Dad Does the Office Gift Exchange”

Well, my mom couldn’t resist the idea of the look on the poor lady’s face who got the pumpkin as her gift. I’m sure the facial expression would’ve been classic.

So she came up with the brilliant idea to have the pumpkin wrapped up and given to my dad as one of his Christmas gift.

Mom gave Nancy the pumpkin and Nancy put it in a nicely sized box and wrapped it all nice and pretty like a Christmas gift should be.

The look on his face, when he opened the package, was classic. He was shocked and couldn’t stop laughing.

Belle, our little chihuahua, even found enjoyment in it. Either that or all the wrapping paper and empty boxes.

Now everyone has to watch their back, because who knows who dad is going to gift the pumpkin to next. Our family now has our own “white elephant” except is the ugly Styrofoam pumpkin.

Do you hear the words coming out of my mouth

As I mentioned before I like to play rugby. Between 1986 and 1989, I lived in the Republic of Singapore. My dad, like myself, was in the computer game. He was working for Data General then (I believe they were merged with EMC in the late 90′s). In order to stay compliant and to allow me to easily attend college in the United States I had to attend a United States sanctioned school while in Singapore. That school was The Singapore American School. As one probably guessed, it was a private school….uniforms and all. Luckily for us, my dad’s company footed the bill for the tuition, books and uniforms (they pretty much covered anything that we didn’t have to pay for in the US).

Instead of the usual sports that are offered in high schools in the United states, this school had “international” sports. I cannot remember the seasons that all the sports played in but we had: Soccer, Rugby, Basketball (international rules), volleyball (men’s and women’s), Field Hockey, Softball (men’s and women’s), and Track and Field. If you wanted to play American Rules Football and Baseball you had to join a club team.

I had played Jr. Varsity Basketball my freshman year and was trying out for varsity during my sophomore year. Unfortunately, I didn’t make the team. But Coach Bava, the rugby coach and my PE teacher asked me to come out for Rugby. Apparently, if you made it till the end of the season, you got a letter. It was a self-cut team. So I got my parents’ permission. This was a shock to me.

You need to understand that ever since pee wee league days, I’ve tried to get permission to play football, but my parents felt I’d get hurt. Now I’m asking to play rugby which is alot like football but without pads and they say yes. Apparently, my mom had a theory that football coaches were egomaniacs that cared more about winning than the welfare of his players. They knew Coach Bava’s reputation and that I loved him as a coach and that is all they needed to know.

So I tried out. For years Coach Bava started out the season by addressing the squad and asking anyone if they would care to try and tackle him. Naturally an offensive or defensive tackle from one of our club league football teams would volunteer. They would come in and try to tackle him like a football player would and he would make a little move and stiff arm the guy and break his nose. He would use this as an object lesson on how in Rugby one tackles with the shoulder keeping the head away from the one being tackled.

Well, you may be wondering what is the purpose of all this rambling. I was recollecting one of the games I played way back then. I was playing hooker and during line outs the hookers face off against each other while the ball is tossed between a line of players

      X|
—— |
       |O
—— |
      X|

The ‘X’ represent the hookers and the ‘O’ represents the guy tossing the ball between the -’s. Well, in this situation, the ball was tossed and both their hooker and me dove into the channel trying to intercept the ball. Instead of trying to intercept the ball, the opposing hooker speared me in the head. Right on the temple. I remember passing out for a brief second and then was back into the game.

A few plays later Coach Bava was pulling me out of the game. I asked him why he was pulling me out. He said that he saw the blow to my head during the line out and then I wasn’t playing normally after that. He said I was playing too good like I had lost all my fear.

Well, later that night I was sitting at home with my brother while my parents went to Denny’s to grab some dessert. I turned to look at my brother and wasn’t able to speak. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get the words out. My brother ended up calling my parents at Denny’s. Yes, we ate there enough that we knew the phone number and they knew who we were.

It turned out that I had a severe concussion and it had done some temporary damage to the area of my brain that affects speech. The plus side was that it got me out of an oral presentation I had to do for English class. The bad side is that I now stutter everytime I get nervous or excited.

But my mom was right. Coach Bava pulled me out of the game because I was playing too good. What coach would do that? A coach that knew his player normally was fearful of being tackled and now wasn’t and it all started from a head injury.

Man I love this game!!!!

The Gentlemen of Aspen

Between 1997 and 1999 I lived in a beautiful little town in Colorado that I don’t think many people know about. It is called Aspen, Colorado. I’ve never seen a place so pretty. I have had quite a few adventures there that could take up a blog posting or two.

Aspen has the luxury of having one of the premier Rugby Football Clubs in the entire United States. They have won more titles than any other Club League team. One of the wonderful thing about Rugby is that they’ll take almost anyone that wants to try out.

I happened to bump into one of the players in the gym and we started talking about rugby since I played in high school and in college. He asked me to turn up at practice on Thursdays.

I think he was surprised when I showed up.

Rugby is a rough and tumble sport. There is a saying amongst those familiar with real football (soccer to us Americans) and Ruggers. “Football is a gentleman’s sport played by hooligans and Rugby is a hooligan’s sport played by Gentleman”. In fact, the name of the Rugby Team in Aspen is “The Gentleman of Aspen“.

Well, on Saturday afternoon we traveled to Vail, Colorado to play the Vail Rugby Club. I had the wonderful opportunity of playing “A” squad since many of the other regular “A” squad was off playing for the American Eagles (the professional team for American Rugby). I typically play one of two positions, hooker or winger. On this particular day, I was tapped to play hooker which was especially challenging since I am 5’3″ and my two props were over 6′ tall. Once we were locked together and they stood up, my feet were at least a foot off the ground.

During some especially brutal scrums, I got pulled and flipped over the pack and kicked repeatedly in the ribs and kidneys. Fun was had by all.

Our team was easily handling the Vail squad and at half period, we decided to switch me to the winger position.

By this point, I have pretty much earned a lot of respect of the members of the team because I always give my all during practices. Since I was playing winger, I was in a good position to score if the opportunity arises. People on the sidelines were offering rounds of drinks to anyone who passed me the ball and it resulted in a try (the equivalent of a touchdown in American Football).

Needless to say, after many attempts I still hadn’t been able to get across the try line. Then, I got what most players dread…..the “hospital pass”. It is called the “hospital pass” because the catching of the ball results in a collision so bad it puts you in the hospital. In my case, all 128 lbs. of me collided into 3 very tall and very heavy guys. I’d say they easily weighed over 700 lbs combined. I went flying like a rag doll and had all that weight on me. I got up, brushed myself off and continued to play. My hand was killing me but on the plus side, my kidneys and ribs didn’t hurt anymore.

After the game, we went out drinking, which is a custom with Rugby. I found that icing my hand down with cold beer helped a lot. At the bar two sisters of the players came up to me and told me how tough I was. They thought I was a goner after getting that hospital pass. They told me from their perspective all they saw was my arms and legs flailing around like a cockroach and then the next thing they knew I was running around on the field like nothing had happened.

Well, I went to see a physician that specializes in sports medicine. It turned out that I had an avulsion fracture of the right thumb. It’s often referred to as Skier’s Thumb. I was casted for 6 months and it still didn’t keep me from the Rugby pitch.

Hello, I love you can you tell me your name….

I thought I would talk about how my wife and I met and got married. We met on October 11, 2001 and were married on March 8, 2002. For those who worked the math, that was about 148 days or around 5 months. We have been married slightly over 4 years now. I find it funny that we’ve been married longer than some of the people I know have dated.

At the time of my wife’s meeting we were both active members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (aka the Mormons or LDS). We were in what they refer to as a Singles’ Ward. The Church is divided into Wards (or branches for smaller populations) and Wards/Branches belong to Stakes.

LDS Families practice on Mondays something called Family Home Evening (FHE) which involves family together time without interruptions from the world where you typically have some kind of Spiritual lesson, some scripture reading or other faith building activities. Since the singles tend to be out of the parents’ house they often don’t have a family to do FHE with. So the Singles’ Ward had their own FHE events planned by the members. By region we were divided into “families”.

On Oct 11, 2001, my “family” was in charge of the lesson. I planned on having a Q&A session where question often asked by non-LDS people could be answered by the rest of the group and people of higher authority. I managed to get some of our leadership to be present to help settle questions. Unbeknownst to everyone (until now), I had planned this FHE lesson because I had been on the fence since joining and wanted to see if I could be convinced I was wrong in my doubts.

After the event, our Ward’s Bishop’s wife (the lay minister leader for the ward) introduced me to Nancy. She was new in the area. She was introducing Nancy to everyone. But she caught my eye. There was something different about her.

It was later, that I found out that she was in my FHE Family and she gave me her phone number so I could call and let her know what was going on. Well, I tend to be a procrastinator and constantly forgot to call her. Nancy and I chatted a lot in the halls of the Church between sessions and she coined the nickname “slacker” for me because I kept forgetting to call.

You have to understand that my dating strategy that I have used up to this point was that I would really get to know the girl before asking her out and unfortunately it never worked. I always got the, “you are like a brother to me.” speech. Well, I had Nancy’s phone number in my cell phone and I thought I’d teach her a lesson and call her up and ask her out. I was going against precedent and asking out someone I hardly even knew. I called her and got her voice-mail and hung up and lost my nerve. She dared to call me back and I was forced to talk to her. We talked for a really long time and she agreed to go out to eat with me. We both loved Olive Garden so that is where we decided to go. This was November 25th. The following Tuesday we were at FHE and were going to meet some people to eat but we got lost. We ended up talking the whole night while we were driving around looking for this restaurant we swore didn’t exist. That ended up being considered our first date even though it occurred before our official date.

The date came and went and really was just a night full of nervousness on both sides. To top off the dates festivities, we both had a nasty bout of IBS that had us taking turns running to the restroom. It is a good thing I had cleaned my bathroom before leaving for our date. You must understand, at this point and time, Nancy had real issues with using restrooms that were not in her house. So the fact that she used my toilet meant she really, really, really, had to go (she suffers from Crohn’s Disease). It was the fact that I could relate to her delimma that we were able to laugh the situation off and form a unique bond that others couldn’t relate to.

My wife had just gotten off a bad marriage. I was 30, single and never had a girlfriend before. If my status didn’t throw up red flags, blaring sirens and a marching band with banners telling you “Danger, Danger, Warning Will Robinson”, I don’t know what would. She decided that she would go out with me again. I later found out that she was just thinking I would make a good gym buddy (at that time I did most of my worshipping within the temple of 24 Hour Fitness).

I can’t remember us spending a moment apart…..Until December 2, 2001. That was the day Nancy broke up with me. It lasted less than 24 hours. She ended up getting really sick and it turned out to be bronchitis. She had to go home, but since she lived with her dad and he wasn’t home, she had no one to take care of her and the only thing she could think of was calling me. I went and picked her up at her house and we watched TV while she slept on my lap.

We spent a lot of time talking in front of her dad’s house illuminated by the glow of his outside lights. It was during those talks that souls were bared. We dug up more skeletons than are in all of Arlington Cemetery. I think at times it seemed like we were Rene Russo and Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon 2 comparing battle scars. But I knew at that point that I trusted her because I told her things my best friends and family didn’t know

It was within the first week of December that we got engaged. I didn’t ask her though. She asked me, “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?” I replied, “I don’t know, but you are there.” At that point we started planning our marriage.

We got married for under $1000 including the cost of the dress. We didn’t go on a honeymoon because her job wouldn’t allow her to take time off. We just started into our marriage.

We never really have looked back. So far the keys to our success has been the open and honest dialogue we have. I have found that being honest with my feelings is always the proactive response rather than dealing with the fallout when you keep things to yourself.

In September, we are finally getting to take our honeymoon and it coincides with our 4.5 year anniversary. It has been a long bumpy road, but I’ve enjoyed the ride. Here is to 50 more years of it

The Easter Snake

My wife likes to have little traditions and one of those is having family over on the holidays. So, typically, we have my parents over since they live about 5 minutes away from us. For this Easter meal, Nancy let my mom decide on the meal. My mom very enthusiastically requested hamburgers off the grill. I guess she liked them the last time I made them. Who were we to argue with the request. It was an easy meal to prepare, very little cleanup, and I had to do the cooking

Well, Nancy decided that we needed corn on the cob and cake to round out the meal. She crafted a cake in the shape of a bunny using two round cake layers. I hope to update this blog entry with a picture once I get it off the camera.

So everything was going smoothly. My dad sat outside and shot the breeze with me as I cooked the burgers and the corn. If you haven’t enjoyed corn on the cob off the grill, try it. It is absolutely fabulous. While I was cooking and Nancy was finishing things up inside, my mom went out front to take a quick smoke (we don’t allow her to smoke inside).

So, fast forward to us sitting at the table eating…..

There we were eating our meal, when my mom mentions, “Oh, by the way, you have a huge rattlesnake in the bushes out front.” I respond with, “How do you know it’s a rattlesnake? Did you hear it’s rattle?” She answers with, “No, I saw the diamond pattern” and she proceeded to stretch out her arms to indicate that the snake must’ve been about 5 feet long with a diameter equivalent of a 2 inch pipe. Surely, she must be exaggerating.

My dad was saying that if it wasn’t for the multitude of kids and animals in the neighborhood, you would just let it go on it’s way, but since we don’t have that luxury we have no choice but to kill it. He told me to just take the hedge clippers and cut it in half. I’m thinking to myself, “Where is Jeff Corwin or Steve Irwin when you need them? Because I don’t have hedge clippers and I don’t know how reliable my aim is with swinging a shovel.” If this thing is really as big as my mom is saying it is, I’ll never get close enough with any kind of death blow instrument before it takes me out below the knees.

Despite the fact that I hold the mantle of “Killer of all things Creepy” in my household, just like Indiana Jones, I HATE SNAKES! I had a couple close calls in my childhood involving snakes. One such incident involved me, the side of a giant rock, a coiled copperhead and 6 inches between our faces in the North Carolina woods. If it wasn’t for the fact that I let go of the rock and fell to the ground, that sucker would’ve gotten me for sure.

But, I digress. So here I am, eating my meal, followed up by dessert just praying this snake will go on it’s merry little way.

Well, after dinner, dad wanted to see this giant snake. Nancy requested that I put something on my feet, so I just slid on my sneakers while my dad just went out with his socks on. We were two fearless hunters tracking down the giant snake. Well, my mom was out there smoking and said, “It’s still there.” I asked her to point it out, and I looked where she was pointing. So I go around the bushes where I had the closest vantage point and my dad was with me. I point to an object the bushes and asked her, “Is this the snake?” I got an answer in the affirmative. I knew what I was looking at, but I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t wrong and looked around carefully and then proceeded to reach out and grab it and asked my mom, “This?” She said yes.

It was a giant metal stake. The stake was the kind landscapers use to keep trees and giant shrubs from toppling over. This particular stake was the one put in after my crepe myrtle blew over the first week after moving into our new home. About a year ago, I pulled it out and tossed it aside. The rust pattern was perceived as a diamond pattern and there was a slight bend in it from my having to pry it out of the ground.

So, from now on, that metal stake is referred to as the “Easter Snake”

Thankgiving 2005

My wife and I had my parents over for a traditional Easter dinner consisting of grilled hamburgers and a homemade cake. While I was out mastering fire on the back patio my wife was reminded of our BBQ experience over Thanksgiving last year.

Every year since we’ve been married, my wife and I have made an exodus to the High Desert in California to visit her mother and her husband, who interestingly enough has, the same first name as me. Unlike the stereotypical relationships with the in-laws, I like her mother. She has a lot of sage advice and has overcome much adversity to get where she is right now in her life and career.

In 2005, we decided to take a trip over Thanksgiving. It included our annual trip to Disneyland, but that isn’t important to this story. Her mom wanted to know what we wanted for Thanksgiving dinner. I told Nancy that I’m not a big traditionalist when it comes to Thanksgiving and since her mom has been raving about her steaks ever since she got her gas grill, I wanted steaks.

So while her husband was creaming me at Halo 2, they were out cooking on the grill. Her mother likes to put aluminum foil down to make the cleanup easy. Before putting the foil down she did the obligatory burn off period. Afterward she put the foil down and then the steaks. Moms and Daughters being as they are proceeded to laugh and talk, laugh and talk and laugh some more. The whole time the lid of the grill was down and our steaks were cooking…..or were they

Well, her mom decided to check on the steaks and lifted the lid. The entire grill was on fire. Apparently, she had forgotten to turn the heat down from the “burn off” and it goes so hot in there that the aluminum foil melted to the steaks.

I being the every grateful house guest ate my steak with the utmost care but without a complaint. I have crowns and when aluminum hits it, I might as well have been hit by lightening. I tell you a lot of scraping went into getting my gilded steak back to just meat.

Her poor mom was mortified and she said it took forever to get the aluminum off the grill grates.

I have a wife who is an excellent cook, so now no matter how bad a meal turns out, I’m sure it wouldn’t match that meal.

On a positive note, I was able to learn how to grill corn on the cob on the grill (I didn’t know you could do that). We now only prepare corn that way.

A case of mistaken identity

One thing that can not be said about me is that I’m spontaneous. I have never been. I have also not been known for having a sense of humor or desire to play pranks on people. Some would call me pretty gullible in my younger years. Granted, some people at work feel I let a good joke out every now and again, but when I was younger, it was a rarity.

So let me setup the story. I guess I was around 10 or 11 years old and we were living in Durham, NC at the time. Every now and again we’d travel up to NJ to visit my Dad’s father. My mom didn’t particularly care for him and I think the feeling was reciprocated. So, the trip often was just my dad, my brother Mike and me.

Also, being young kids with small bladders we had to stop a lot along the way at rest stops. These handy little conveniences may be a foreign concept to many people. I know on the trip from Houston to OKC, we only saw one. But these rest stops were pretty nice until you got north of Virginia.

So here we were on our way north to NJ and we stopped to stretch our legs and take a “bio-break”. I being the fast walker that I am was way ahead of the pack to get to the bathroom. I round the corner to the bathroom and had an idea pop into my head……

I’m going to jump out and scare the crap out of my dad and brother because they would never see it coming.

There was a little wall that shielded the entrance to the men’s bathroom and I was hiding just behind it waiting for my dad and brother to spring my trap. I couldn’t see through the wall and all I had was the shadows as my guide to tell me when to jump.

My dad and brother weren’t far behind me so I didn’t think I’d have to wait long. Then I saw the shadow. It was approaching fast but I didn’t want to jump out too soon, but if I waited too long I’d just be some idiot hiding behind a wall.

I saw my moment of opportunity and sprung around the corning letting out a loud roar.

But…….

It wasn’t my dad or my brother. It was some poor business man. All I remember is him screaming like a woman and throwing his briefcase up in the air. I don’t remember much beyond the fact that my dad and brother were rolling in laughter. I, on the other hand was embarrassed.

As we were driving out of the Rest Area, my dad turned to me and said, “We will never look at a Rest Area the same and unfortunately, neither will that poor guy.”