This economic downturn has affected a wide range of people in this country.  In the last 12 months, both of my parents as well as my brother and sister lost their full time jobs.  Everyone does their best to remain positive, says things such as “hey, we are all healthy, we will be fine”, but there is no doubt it is an unprecidented difficult time upon us.

I’ve done my best to remain upbeat, using that “healthy” mantra, watching family and friends go through a tough stretch, and have constantly fallen back on the fact that I have a wonderful wife and two healthy kids.  However, over the past two months, that positive outlook took a rough turn for the worse, and a strange long distance encounter, was what I needed to snap out of it.

Our second son Carter was born just before Christmas.  As I wrote in a previous post, I am deathly afraid of child birth.  Nicole had a horrible pregnancy with the our oldest son, and the birth was just as bad.  For some crazy reason, the pregnancy was completely uneventful with Carter.  I kept joking that it was like she wasn’t even pregnant.  The birth was a little rough, but hey, he and his mom were healthy, and it was a great Christmas.

Around May 15, I went to Columbus on a weekend golf trip with some friends.  We do it every year, and it never fails to be a relaxing good time with the boys.  This year, right before we were going to start playing our first round, my wife called to tell me that our four month old baby Carter needed a CAT-scan right away and that his head was not growing correctly, and the doctors were ‘alarmed’.  This of course floored me, like it would any parent.  We were able to get the scan 36 hours later, and to sit there to watch your little guy get tied to a table for one of these is not exactly something I would recommend.  Thankfully, it turned out that the his brain was fine, but that he just needed to get fit with a corrective helmet to wear for two to three months.  The helmet isn’t the worst thing in the world, but it sure doesn’t make me feel good to strap it on his head and watch him start cursing at me in baby talk.

Our older son Charlie was born with a club foot.  He had to wear numerous casts for a few months and then wore corrective shoes until he was almost two years old.  At that time, it looked as if everything was healed.  He now has to go in once a year to see how things are coming along.

We just returned from a trip to Walt Disney World for his 4th birthday.  He had the time of his life, going on every single ride possible, as well as going down the hotel water slide 57 times in one day.  He did have a bit too much fun the night of his birthday,as evidence with this picture of him throwing up after eating a sundae and sprinting to the monorail to get back to the hotel before the water slide closed.  I mention it because he is a normal, hyper, crazy young boy, running around everywhere.  After his third birthday, he had his annual checkup on his foot and they said everything looked great.  He went for his last check up just Monday, and not so great.  We were told that the foot is growing incorrectly, and that he needs to have surgery to correct it.  He will be put under, have to stay the night in the hospital and be in a non weight bearing cast for six weeks.  This one was like a punch in the face to me.  It is one thing to have to put a helmet on a baby, but to put a crazy four year old in a cast and not be able to walk for at least six weeks…I still can’t imagine what it is going to be like.  I just feel so bad for the guy, and I was getting to a point where I was maybe feeling a little bit sorry for myself.

Sometimes it takes strange things to make you change your perspective, or maybe a random occurrence that makes you take a step back and assess the situation at hand.  Tuesday night, Nicole and I went to see The Dave Matthews Band at Riverbend here in Cincinnati.  I think I’ve probably been to 20 of his concerts over the past 15 years, and its a summer tradition.  Thanks to my buddy and co-worker, Brock Boser being in the Dave Matthews Band fan club all these years, we are able to get excellent seats.  This year was no exception as we were on the right side of the stage in the fifth row.  As we were hanging out listening to the music, due our seat locations, I was able to see some people somewhat back stage, but actually on the side of the stage opposite from us.  For some reason, my eye stopped on what appeared to be a family.  It was a mother, father, and what looked to be a college aged girl in a wheelchair, looking very ill.  For some reason I kept looking over there, and noticed the joy on the parents’ faces as they constantly looked at their daughter who was 25 feet away from the band watching them play.  It was kind of neat to see a group of people sharing a really poignant and somewhat private moment together, knowing their daughter was having a great time.  I pointed out the family to Nicole with the realization that in the big picture, our minor health problems with our children were not that bad.

About 45 minutes later in the show, in between songs, Dave Matthews says, “This one goes out to our new friend Natalie, who came to see us tonight.  I know it was difficult for you to get here, but we appreciate it.”  It was the coolest thing, because I’m pretty sure, absolutely nobody else in that 15,000 seat ampitheater besides the band and the crew knew who or what he was talking about.  I look over and both the mom and dad are hugging Natalie and both wiping tears from their faces.  I just thought it was so neat to do that in a way to not make a spectacle of the situation, or himself, but just that little message had to have meant the world to that family and sick girl.  The band then played the song ‘Grey Street’, which the lyrics do seem quite relevant, and a Dave Matthews geek next to me said to his friend that they have never played that song the whole tour.

It is not the best practice to have to see someone in a worse situation, to understand that what you have is not that bad, but that is exactly what happened to me that night. To witness the look on the parents face towards their child, I think it is something you only begin to understand as you become a parent.  Regardless, it was a really neat moment, and I earned some new respect for Dave Matthews for gesture he made, and from this day on, if I hear Grey Street, I will think of she and her parents.

Get well soon Natalie!!

The actual anniversary of the Columbine massacare was April 20, but I just finished a riveting book by Dave Cullen, on the events of that day and the aftermath of the tragedy. 

Every person has their own unique interests, and I’ve noticed that I am fascinated to read and learn about how people and media react in times of ‘unpresidented tragedy’, so to speak.  One example I can think of took place after President Kennedy was assinated in 1963.  It was immediately decided to swear in Lydon Johnson as the 36th president of the United States on board of Air Force I with the poor widowed Jackie Kennedy standing next to him in a outfit still covered in her husband’s blood.  There was no need for that symbolic act to take place so quickly in the midst of a tragedy, but they felt it was needed to show the country and the world, that America would continue to function undeterred, and I think they made the correct decision.

There are countless other instances, that I find intriguing, as how resillient Mayor Guilliani was essentially during the attacks of 9/11, saying ‘we will rebuild’ (even though nothing is even close to rebuilt almost eight years later).  It was reassuring the the country during a time of complete pandemonium.  Upon reading Cullen’s book Columbine, there were numerous decisions made by law enforcement and media that were both hastily and incorrectly made, and most of the public still is not aware of these mistakes.

It was widely reported that these kids, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, were out to “kill the jocks” and exact revenge on people who picked on them.  The truth was that they had no premedited victims.  They simply wanted to kill everyone in the school and out do their idol, Timothy McVeigh, who orchestrated the Oklahoma City bombings in 1995, killing 168 people.  They plotted out in every way how they could kill the most possible students and teachers.  Harris and Klebold planted two giant propane tanks in the cafeteria of the school, and set a timer for the bombs to detonate at exactly 11:13, which they studied to be the highest traffic point in the cafeteria.  They also loaded their cars with homemade napalm bombs to go off one hour after the bombs in the cafeteria with the hopes of many more casualties from rescue workers and students who managed to escape the carnage inside.  This information was given to the media within days of the attack, but it was as if media’s story was already written.  Two shy goth boys who wanted to get back at the jocks that picked on them.  That story might have been convenient, and make other schools around the country take a hard look at hazing, but it was far from the truth. These boys were simply sociopaths.

The media also botched the story of Cassie Bernall, who lost her life that day.  A student who was in a state of shock immediately after the attack told a story that one of the killers asked her if she believed in God, and she answered ‘yes’, the killer laughed asked why, and then killed her with his sawed off shotgun.  The media ran with this story, and it was on every major news channel and newspaper.  The problem was that conversation never took place.  There are numerous studies that people at the scene of a crime tend to not be the best eye witnesses, due to the trama but at least five other students in the Columbine library at that time refuted that story, but no media outlets seemed to want to recant that story, and Cassie’s parents have dealt with not only the loss of their daughter, but her immediate rise to what some called sainthood, to then accused of trying to capitalize off of an untrue story by writing a book about her life.

You also have to take a look at the police.  They had detective John Stone, a man who had been Sheriff in Jefferson County for less than two years, and was more of a politician than a tactical sherriff.  it took them over four hours to storm the building at 3:20, incorrectly thinking it was a hostage standoff, when the shooters committed suicide three hours earlier at 12:08, allowing more than one student and faculty member to pass away due to the delay in sending in the SWAT team.  The only good to come out of that bad decision, was a change in all future similar situations, putting in place the Immediate Action Rapid Deployment tatic and may help saved some lives in the future.

When the attack was in progress, students fleed the building as quickly as possible.  The police and rescue teams had the students run into a large field behind the school.  Of course parents were all mortified, but couldn’t get to the school as a huge area had been roped off by police.  The parents were told to go to Leawood Elementary where the kids would be bussed over from the field.  Bus after bus arrived with families reuniting, and others wondering if their kids were still inside the school.  The police knew that 12 children were killed, but were not ready to tell the parents, so they instead gave them the false hope that one more bus was on the way.  As two hours went by, the parents rightfully wanted answers, doubting there was any additional busses, and it was only then that they were told their kids had been senselessly killed that day.

A decision was also made to leave the bodies of two deceased students in the parking lot of Columbine High School for over 48 hours, without even any covering.  The police stated fear that some of the bodies could have been staged with explosives when moved, but it stole the dignity of these two teenagers.  I can’t even wrap my head around how difficult it must have been for the parents of those two students, knowing their child’s deceased body lay in a parking lot covered in snow.

Overall, it was a horrible day in America, ruined the lives of many families, and made everyone feel a little less safe about going to school or sending their children to school.  The only positive you can possibly take out of it, is that we learn from the mistakes made by both the Sherriff’s Department and the media, and don’t repeat those same mistakes in another moment of tragedy.

Yes, I am a Chicago Bears fan, so it was instilled in me at an early age to hate anything and everything that has to do with the Green Bay Packers, but I secretly have always had some admiration for the “gunslinger”.  He was what football should be all about, being tough, commradderie, and having fun.  His yearly charade of retirement has turned from comedy, to sheer disgust.  I am pretty sure he started hinting at retirement each year starting in 2002.  He then finally made up his mind and sat up at a press conference with the Packers in 2007 and cried about how is body just couldn’t do it anymore, and he was ready to walk away to spend more time with his family.  Of course that lasted a few months until his ego decided that he couldn’t handle people not talking about him day after day.  So he starts this big saga of putting the Packers in a horrible situation asking to release him so he could play somewhere else, all of this during training camp for the 2008, after the Packers have already invested in Aaron Rodgers to take over.

After weeks of endless media speculation, the Packers finally released him and he jumped ship to the New York Jets, where he started off hot and faded down the stretch.  After the 2008 season he retired again.  He even made fun of himself in an interview about all of his retirements.  Here we are today, May 7, and the lead story on ESPN is that the Vikings are flying to to Mississippi to meet with Brett about joining them for next season.  Are you kidding me?

Rodger Clemens did the exact same thing numerous times.  In 2003, the Yankees played the Florida Marlins in the World Series.  Before the playoffs Clemens had said that the 2003 season would be his last.  He started game four of the series in Miami.  When he came out of the game in the bottom of the 8th, the Marlin fans rose in unison to give him a standing ovation.  I thought that was rather impressive when a visiting player gets a standing ovation from the home crowd, especially during the World Series.

It quickly became much stranger as the entire Marlins team came out of the dugout to give Clemens a standing ovation.  I have never seen anything like that in my life, an unbelievable sign of respect for a player deemed as one of the best pitchers ever, leaving the field for the last time.  It was one of those moments when you are watching a sporting event, and you know you will remember it for the rest of your life.  The only problem with it, was that Clemens completely contradicted himself and was back with the Yankees in 2004, and probably would still be pitching today if he wasn’t in the middle of the biggest steroid case in the history of sports.  Now, I vividly remember that moment, but more so as the moment when I stopped caring if an athlete spoke of retirement.

Jeff Pearlman wrote fascinating book on Clemens and spoke extensively about his ego.  In the end, to be a professional athlete, you have to have some sort of an ego.  In order to be in the top .1% of society in a specific skill, you have to believe you are that talented, so having an ego is a good thing to a certain extent.  Unfortunately, when your playing days are over, that ever growing ego still needs to be fed, and these two men are perfect examples who can’t bear to live outside of that spotlight.  It could be a byproduct of our society and semi worship of athletes that has created people like these two men, but to me, if you say you are hanging it up, accept praise and adulation from everyone, then go the exact opposite direction, you are a hippocrite and you have lost the respect of a lot of people, myself included.

My wife Nicole is due to have our second child this weekend, so it will be a great Christmas for us.  Obviously I am excited to see the baby, but as much as I hate to admit it, I wish we could just flip a switch and the little guy would be in our arms, as the whole process of child birth is a bit much for me.

Six months ago, one of my good friends and co-workers, Steve Spiegla and his wife had a baby.  He was born at the same hospital as our 1st son, Charlie.  When Nicole and I visited them and walked into the maternity ward, I noticed that I was sweating and felt like I was going to pass out. It was like I returned to the scene of a crime.

That is a slight exaggeration, but I’ll go on record as saying I have NEVER felt more useless or worthless than watching my wife go through 20 hours of labor.  Sure, men have egos, some more than others, but during childbirth, they seem to disappear.  Telling Nicole to “breathe” isn’t exactly doing much, other than making her want to punch me in the face.  What a woman’s body goes through over the course of nine months and childbirth is astonishing, and almost unbelievable.  Charlie was born healthy and everything turned out and Nicole was fine, but its a scary process.  Without a doubt I earned a new respect for women after going through that three years ago.

My poor wife has been close to miserable for a month.  I came into our bedroom last week, and noticed her sleeping in what I considered to be a ‘coffin’.  She laid in bed and put pillows around the entire perimeter of her body.  According to her, that is the only way she can be comfortable.  She says that she now feels about 11 months pregnant.  I have to help her off the couch, and I notice she has taken over my wardrobe of sweats and t-shirts.

I’ve heard some men say they feel useless on their wedding day, as really the day is built for the bride.  That may be true, but the bride isn’t going through excruciating pain, like with childbirth, so childbirth gets my vote

So, I guess this is a thanks for the last nine months and a good luck to Nicole.  I’ll be there rooting you on, regarless of my worth.

I am well aware that we have too many financial problems to list in this country right now, and saying that the Blackberry generation ruined the market was over the top, but I strongly believe that it has played a major role into the events that have transpired over the last six months.  Even before you bring technology into the equation, the stock market is a vastly different place than it was 30 or even 20 years ago.  At that time, the majority of workers in the United States relied on pensions for their retirements.  As we have shifted away from pensions to the now standard 401K vehicles, there has been a cosmic shift in the percentage of people in this country whose financial lives are directly tied to the financial markets.

Until the internet boom, people received their investment statements in the mail every month, some people every quarter.  Now it has come to the point where one click of a button on your phone and you can get up to the minute stock quotes.  With the plethora of cable channels dedicated to the markets, you can watch coverage 24 hours a day, seven days a week.  The media has always been big on trying to put fear into the public, which in my opinion as a lot to do with why we got into the war in Iraq, but that is another post for another day.  The bankruptcy of Leman Brothers on September 15 and subsequent coverage created a fear in this country, unlike anything I have ever seen.  It is difficult to have a conversation with anyone out there without the economy being brought up.  It is being constantly beaten into our brains.  Last week, I was at the grocery store, and for some reason I hear over the loudspeaker, “Times are tough, in this difficult economy, you can find deals at Kroger”.  You simply cannot escape the negativity.

This fear causes people to make irrational decisions.  So many people have just taken their losses and gotten out of the market, taking 40%+ losses on their retirement savings, saying they will get back in when the market stabilizes.  So when it goes back up 20%, you will jump back in and just sacrifice all those losses?  Fear isn’t just a problem for the everyday investor, more and more companies are laying off workers, and much of the time you hear the team ‘precautionary’.  I’ve heard this time and time again, companies are letting people go because they are afraid of what MIGHT be down the road.  Its a self-fulfilling prophecy that is taking over our country.

The technology boom of the last 10-15 years has been truly amazing, almost another industrial revolution, and it has changed the way we live our lives.  I’m rather confident that the volumns of the Encyclopedia Brittanica on people’s bookselves aren’t being utlizied as much with the birth of the internet.  Through social media platforms, you can keep in touch with just about anyone you have ever crossed paths with.  The fact that I haven’t gone to a mall for Christmas shopping in five years due to ecommerce is something nobody could have fathomed twenty years ago, so I don’t want to be perceived as saying that technology is a bad thing, but I do believe isn’t all good either.

I’ve read plenty of articles that say we need to get out and work harder and do more to take it upon ourselves to restore this economy.  While I can agree with that to a certain extent, I also think that everyone needs to take a step back and understand that we still live in the greatest country in the world and buying into the information overload that is upon us right now is adding on to this snowball that has been created.  Times are tough, it is going to take some time to get through it, but the ‘hype’ that has been forced upon us since September is quickly making matters much worse.

I will admit I didn’t follow our financial markets too closely until around June of 2007.  Prior to that time, I would passively see how things were coming along, but being in New York, and having close ties to the credit markets, caused me to start obsessively reading about the markets every single day since.  The biggest item I’ve learned is that nobody really has a clue what tomorrow holds!

I’m been blessed to be in a great position, started a solid company, worked hard to build it up, and took some risk off the table by selling TLA in November of 2006, and received a substantial payout for it.  However, today, the market is down almost 30% from its high in November of last year, so much for taking that risk off of the table.  Its not about me though, my portfolio has plenty of time to recover.  However, it is about my generation’s parents.  My parents are closing in on the age of 60, not a great time for your retirement fund to lose 30% of its value.  It is a major problem to all Americans, and certainly not just Wall Street.

Fear is spreading like wildfire across the markets, with unheard of sell-offs this past 30 days.  I think to the normal American, there is more anger than fear, but the combination of those two can be lethal.

There is no doubt that the problems started with greed, but to me, the problem is, that is what capitalism was built upon.  Greed is not necessarily a bad thing.  When we were growing Text Link Ads, I was constantly working my tail off to increase our revenues.  In all honesty, it wasn’t so we could make more money, it was the competition of it.  I wanted to build the best, most successful company.  That’s what this country was built upon, and why they call it the American Dream.  What we are learning now, unfortunately, is that we need to have some form of regulation in place to protect us from that same greed.

The lending practice over the last 5-10 years is astinine, people buying homes that they could not even come close to affording.  Lenders didn’t see this as a big risk, because home values were appreciating so quickly, that even if these people couldn’t afford their mortgage payments, they would be able to refinance and do it all over again.  When the housing market began to deteriorate in 2005, that plan of lax lending practices wasn’t looking so good.  It all started coming to a head about 15 months ago, and now for the last three weeks, we keep hearing the comparisons to The Great Depression.  So where do we go from here, and how can we make sure that it doesn’t happen again?

1.  The constant comparisons of “Wall St.” vs. “Main St.” are becoming tiresome, as we are all to blame.  The average US salary is roughly $48,000.  That same average US citizen has over $10,000 in credit card debt.  The average downpayment on a home in 1989 was 20%.  Today, less than 20
years later, the average is 9%.  For first time home buyers, the
average downpayment is just over 2%.  We have turned into a society that requires instant gratification, and we are too quick to make purchases that are not within our means.  The same holds true to people not doing their homework before agreeing to these outrageous adjustable rate loans.

2.  The banking industry looked at itself and thought, ‘How can we make more money…provide more loans’.  Well in order to do so, they resorted to predatory tactics and attempted to confuse and manipulate a large part of the American public.  Now banks are stuck with trillions of dollars of bad loans, and we are seing large banks fail due to it.  People put so little money down on their homes that have decreased in value, that it actually might be their best option to just walk away, and that is just what people are doing.

It has gotten so bad that banks simply aren’t lending money to true eligible people and when credit markets aren’t flowing, all business will begin to suffer.  It is quickly becoming a world wide crisis.  I am hopeful that the $700B bailout package which the House passed October 3 will begin to help, but since its passing the markets have decreased by over 6%.

The simple fact of the matter is that this is going to be a long painful process.  We need to flush out all of these bad loans and get the system back in order.  Americans have always come together in tough times, and unfortunately, it appears that this one is going to be with us for awhile, so we all need to look in the mirror and do what we can to get our great country back on track!

The remnants of Hurricane Ike rolled through the MidWest Sunday afternoon, causing some serious wind damage in Cincinnati. We had wind gusts up to 75 mph, no power for 18 hours, and it looks like a war zone.  With down trees and power lines around our home without raining a drop, it was like nothing I had ever seen before.

Unfortunately, there was quite a bit of rainfall where I grew up in Northwest Indiana, and the storm tragically took the life of one of my baseball coaches at Wheeler High School, Mark Thanos. Mr. Thanos’s wife heard some screaming Sunday morning and he ran outside with his 74 year old father to find a ten year old boy stuck in an overflowed drainage ditch. Both men lost their lives trying to save the child. They both died heros and will forever be missed. His oldest son Johnny was just a toddler when I was in school, and he spent many games in our dugout. As you will see in this clip, he has grown into a solid young man, and I’m hoping by sharing some of my funny memories of Coach Thanos it can bring a smile to his face in a terrible time…

By far my personal favorite would be a trip to Indianapolis my sophomore year. We played Indianapolis Ritter and got beat handily, I believe 6-2.  We were told get the team together in a room back at the hotel. First our head coach, Rich Wendt laid into us pretty hard for how badly we played, which was deserved. All the while, Coach Thanos, better known as “T” or “T-Babe” was pacing in the background looking to get his shots in at us. After about 10 minutes of attack by Coach Wendt, T stormed out of the room. All of us gave a quick look as if to wonder where in the world he was going. Approximately five minutes later he busts through the door holding something. He puts it above his head, apparently it was a dirty diaper from his little boy, Johnny. He then yelled to us, “Boys, there is not enough shit in this diaper to hand out awards today!”. He then stormed out of the room once more with the soiled mess. The whole team, including Coach Wendt had to do everything in our power to not bust out laughing. I think I have told that story 100 times, and it just never gets old.

I don’t think anyone who ever played for T-Babe will forget his boisterous voice.  The man started every sentence with a loud “Bah…”  Such as “Bah…Come on guys get your pepper in before the game starts”.  Every single kid on our team had their own version of a Thanos impersonation.

Another favorite of mine was T’s obsession with how many outs were left in the game.  A few of the guys on the team noticed that if we had a lead, his message usually started around the 4th inning. Since we played seven inning games, T-Babe could come into the dugout and say, “Bah…Come on guys, nine out ball game here”.  We thought that made some sense, and he seemed to use that line constantly, and we got used to it. My junior year, we were playing a pretty good team and scored five or six runs in the bottom of the 1st. We were jogging out to the field, and I hear T yell, “Bah…Keep it up guys, 18 out ball game here”. In his mind the game was almost over after one inning?

During summer league games, T would let Johnny, his son, sit in the dugout with us. He was probably around three at the time of this story, but our dugout was filled with pea gravel. Johnny would sit in the gravel and play. One game we noticed that Johnny was sitting down and basically burying himself from the waist down. Someone told me to look over, and I saw some tears running down the poor kid’s face. Next thing you know, T comes in from first base, Johnny stands up, and all of dust from the gravel is sticking to Johnny. He had wet his pants, and thought that burying himself might make it go away. That’s when T’s booming voice rang out “Oh, Johnny, No, what the hell did you do?!” Needless to say, we didn’t have a first base coach the next inning, while they were cleaning that up.

I could go on and on, like the time he got so sick of listening to our CDs on a drive to Bloomington that he said, “Turn that Guns & Roses crap off!! From now on, its either the Doors, Pink Floyd, or nothing!!” So, The Wall was on in the van for the last hour of the drive to Bloomington and the entire 3.5 hours on the way home.  Even when he got mad at us, we all thought it was funny, because there really wasn’t a mean bone in the man’s body, he was just a kid at heart.

One last story, lacking the comedy, took place my freshman year. I was lucky enough to start on the varsity team as a freshman, and I’m sure many of the juniors and seniors were not too happy about that. In the finals of the conference tournament, I was playing right field, and the bases were loaded. T-Babe waved at me to play more shallow. The next pitch was a high fly ball hit over my head. I turned my back to the ball and ran toward the fence, when I turned around I made a half dive for the ball and it hit off the heel of my glove and I blew it, and we ended up losing. Make no mistake about it, I should have caught it, it was my fault. However, for no other reason than to protect me, Coach Thanos took the blame for it. He said in front of the team that it was his fault for moving me in, and it would have been an easy play if he hadn’t moved me. He said the same thing privately to me numerous times. There was no need for him to say that, I was the only person who even knew he moved me in, and I should have made the play. That being said, it is something I will never forget. I also think it perfectly sums up the man’s life. He is the epitome of a man who cared for others more than himself. I knew it back 18 years ago with that small event, and it was confirmed this weekend when the man made the ultimate sacrifice losing his life trying to help others.

He touched more lives than he will ever know, I just wish we could have taken the time to tell him while he was still here with us.

Rest in Peace T-Babe, you led a great life, and are an inspiration to us all.

To the tens of readers who follow this blog, I need to apologize for the neglect.

As a family, we have had a great summer traveling, visiting friends, and getting used to being back in Cincinnati. Since its after Labor Day, you can’t wear white, and I will get back to writing in the blog. Hope everyone is doing well, and had a great summer.

-BF

When we moved out of Manhattan at the end of last year, I was ready. The city wore on me, and I was desperate for a change of pace. However. now that I am around seven months removed, I think I can really look back fairly at the experience of living in the big city for a year. Going into it, I really had no idea what to expect, and what resulted was a crazy, exuberant, enlightening and exhausting 12 months of our lives.

We found a great loft apartment in Tribeca, which is in lower Manhattan, within walking distance to the MediaWhiz offices in the financial district. When we moved in it was very cold, and I figured I should be a true New Yorker and take the subway to work. I of course had no real idea what I was doing, but did a little research, and thought I had it figured out. I walked a few blocks, read some signs when down some stairs and was standing on the platform, waiting for what appeared to be the correct train going in the right direction. The doors open, people get out, the train was rather crowded, but there was a standing spot available, so I squeezed in. I looked up at the map, confirmed my guesses were correct, and I was on the right train. I then noticed a lot of people were huddled together, but nobody was really bumping into me. I didn’t pay much attention to it until a man in a suit said, ‘hey buddy’ to me and pointed down. On my inaugural subway ride I was standing in a nice puddle of vomit. Welcome to New York!

My wife said to me that she thought it was a bigger adjustment moving to New York than it would be moving to another country. Everything is done differently in the big city. Transportation, shopping, restaurants, and just about everything are entirely unlike that of anywhere else. I went from driving places my entire life, to no longer having a car. We started ordering our groceries online, or we would walk to the store, and the groceries would be delivered. Nicole accidentally ordered 15 half gallons of milk once online, not a mistake you would make by physically going to the grocery store. We would be setting up dinner reservations at 10:30 pm, I was normally sleeping by that time.

After a few months, I started to get the hang of the city to a certain extent. I loved going out to strange places, bizarre bars & restaurants that you wouldn’t see anywhere else in the world. As suburban America turns into Applebees, TGI Fridays and Olive Garden, New York holds on tight to the non-chain restaurants that serve great food. You could eat at a different oustanding restaurant every night for years. Some of the places were so original, it made me constantly say or think in my head, “Only in New York City”. One comical bar was called Burp Castle. It is supposed to be a shrine for beer made by monks. They have strict rules, that you must whisper. If your conversation gets loud, the bartender and patrons will quickly “shhhhhhhhhhhh” you. There are too many crazy eclectic places to name, but going out in the Big Apple was an adventure every night.

We saw some amazing concerts at Radio City Music Hall and Madison Square Garden, not to mention a Yankee/Mets game at Yankee Staduim for Sunday Night Baseball. The passion and language that New Yorkers have at baseball games is admirable. It was truly intense, but probably not a great environment for kids. When you see a concert or a sporting even in NYC, it feels like you are seeing the best of the best, and you probably are.

Having a two year old in the city is also an interesting proposition. Going to the park in NYC is more of a job than it is relaxing. There are so many children that you have to keep constant focus on yours to be sure they are still around. Charlie was able to partake in many interesting classes that probably are not available anywhere else. I knew the kid was turning into a true New Yorker when we were walking down the street to get some food one night last fall, and he looked at me and said, “Dad, I don’t want to walk anymore, lets get in a taxi.”

People call the United States a melting pot, but Manhattan is the ultimate for diverse cultures. When walking down the street, you could hear five or six different languages. it was the dream of immigrants 100-200 years ago to arrive through Ellis Island and see the Statue of Liberty, and many parts of the world still feel that same way. People always asked me how it was dealing with rude New Yorkers, and that is a large misconception. First of all, most people in Manhattan, didn’t grow up there, and secondly, just about everyone is friendly. Nobody makes eye contact with anyone else, but you could stop anybody on the street and ask directions, and they would stop and go out of their way to help you. People take great pride in the city, and they want to share that with others.

Each day when I would talk to or from work, I would see well over 100 pictures being taken by tourists. Lower Manhattan played such an integral role in the development of our country that it is hard not to be moved by walking by the New York Stock Exchange and Federal Hall every day. When walking home from work, I would go right past these two places and head up Church Street past the six blocks of the hole of what was the World Trade Center. It is a breathtaking site to see the enormity of the area which was destroyed September 11, 2001. I had no clue of the sheer size of the area until seeing it with my own eyes. Our apartment was about five blocks north of the site, and we could see the cranes plain as day out of our bathroom windows. Many times, I wondered what it would have been like if we were there that horrible day that the world changed. Out of all of our experiences in NYC, the whole situation of the World Trade Center touched me more than anything else. To walk by there and see people protesting nearly every day, reminded me of the gift we have of free speech, regardless of what is being protested. There would also be family members placing flowers, and pictures and saying prayers while thousands of people were walking by to their trains, buses, jobs, etc. It is mind blowing that nearly 2,800 people lost their lives that day for no reason. New Yorkers are resilient, and they will never forget, but they know that the city must push on.

The story that sticks with me the most came from one of my co-workers, whose golf buddy was killed in the attacks. The man worked in Wall St. and not even at the Trade Center, but didn’t come home that day. It wasn’t until weeks later after going through receipts to know that he walked down the street to a Starbucks then an ATM near the towers, and must have ran over to help his fellow New Yorkers, and lost his life in doing so. On September 11 of last year, the anniversary was commemorated with two giant flood lights shining into the night sky where the towers once stood, and it could be seen from almost anywhere in the city, and Nicole took this picture from Soho.

I do feel like I am home now that my family has settled back in Cincinnati, but there will always be a place in my heart for New York. It was an amazing experience, and awesome item to add to my ‘Life Resume’. There is no other place in the world quite like it, and I know I am a better person after going through it.

If there is one thing that I missed more than anything while in New York, it was the ability to get out and play golf with friends. It took me awhile, but I’ve learned that you need something in your life to take a break from the rest of it. There are millions of variations out there. Many people jog, some watch mindless television, others read books, but for me it is golf. To me, there is absolutely nothing better than getting up before the sun comes up on a Saturday, meeting up with buddies and spending four and a half hours on green grass without a cell phone, wife or kids.

I started playing golf around the age of 9 or 10, but it always took a back seat to the team sports I was playing. I think in high school, some of us realized how fun it was to get out and play a sport where a coach wasn’t breathing down your neck. Many kids get into “extreme sports” these days for the exact same reason, something they can do for fun with their friends without parents or coaches. We were a few years before that craze, and I’m glad as it probably limited the amount of broken bones I have suffered. At 16, we would get in the car and play at a $5 course, and I vividly remember my knees buckling over a three foot putt for the big $1 he had on the line. The best part is I still get out on the course with the guys that I played golf with nearly 20 years ago. I may not stay in touch with many of the guys that I played baseball or basketball with, but for some reason, I think the golf bonded us. We make an annual trip to Myrtle Beach or somewhere to play some rounds and catch up. The worst part is that we are really not that much better golfers than we were in high school.

In the summer during college, we would try to get back together, still playing at the garbage courses. There was one time, at the scenic course of Indian Ridge in Hobart, Indiana where a cart came into our fairway to hit their ball. I looked over at the guy, he was wearing cut-off jean shorts, no shirt, mullet, smoking a joint, and had a ‘boom box’ in the back of his golf cart blaring some hair band music. That was the moment that we decided that we might need to step it up and go to some nicer courses.

In the summer of 1997, we tried out a new course by my house in Valparaiso called Aberdeen. It was probably our second trip there when I ran into a friend of my little brother who worked there. He asked if I saw the girl who was working behind the counter, he said I should ask her on a date. The next time I went back, I took notice and tried to gather the courage to talk to her. I figured how great would it be to have a girlfriend that could get me free golf. While losing about a gallon of sweat due to nervousness, I asked her out right there in the pro-shop. I never did get that free golf, but instead found a wife.

The idea of being outside with great scenery and playing against the course as always been fun for me. After playing competitive sports since the time I was four years old, then after graduating college and finishing up baseball, there a void for me that needed to be filled. Golf does the job getting the adrenaline flowing for me. There is nothing better as hitting a good drive or sinking a long putt. I love the idea of trying to improve on a sport that you can literally play your whole life. I shared many rounds with my old man, which are memories that are cherished forever, and I hope to share the same memories with my children. Charlie got his first set up clubs for Christmas last year, so he is getting ready. I also get a chance to play with my father-in-law anytime he is in town. He has struggled with the game over the last few years, but always goes out to play with me, which has meant a lot. This picture does a good job of summarizing his game.

Another aspect about golf I love is a bit difficult to explain, and I want to be sure it does not sound derogatory. ESPN’s Bill Simmons sums it up perfectly in his 2002 article.

Sometimes, guys just enjoy hanging out with other guys. Unfortunately, we aren’t as creative and ingenious as women. The only male bonding vehicles we ever came up with? Sports, beer, golfing, Vegas, fantasy drafts, video games, strip joints, poker, Golden Tee and NFL Sundays. Guys can’t interact for extended periods of time unless there’s some sort of attention-consuming buffer. We can’t just say “let’s go to dinner,” gab about our lives for two hours, glance through some photos, get bombed on two glasses of Chardonnay and call it a successful night. And we can’t interact quite as happily and naturally with a woman in the room, mainly because we’re always afraid of what we might say or do.

Golf is just about the last bridge to my youth. A time when none of us had jobs, bills or families to be responsible for. We tend to focus on what is most important to us, making fun of each other and retelling story after story about our glory days.  Every once in a while, boys just have to be around boys, it is just in our make up.

Also the process of going out to play a game that is insanely difficult results in some of the most vile language that can be produced by a human. I hope that 40 years from now, I am out with the same group of guys hearing newly invented curse words after missed putts, the tap-in eagle Ty made in 1998, or Steve’s lazy eye girlfriend from 8th grade, or Bryan’s bloodhound capability of finding any lost ball.

Whatever you do outside of work and family, whether it is knitting or mountain biking, make it a priority. I never realized how much I valued golfing until I wasn’t able to for over a year. We are not on this earth forever, so make the most of the time we have.