PurpAnd

I’ve written before about how important my family and friends are to me and you can read one of the pieces here. I was reminded how great my family is the other day while reading a note from my aunt on her Twitter account. She and my uncle drove down to Florida for a vacation last week. My aunt posted that my uncle ‘drove 2,847 miles on this trip to FL and brought us home safely once again!’ I liked this for a couple reasons… One, my uncle did a heck of a lot of driving with nary a complaint, and two, my aunt appreciated this enough to make a public comment.

I have no clue whether my uncle enjoyed the driving, although I suspect he did. It’s the kind of thing I would enjoy (traveling with a loved one through gorgeous parts of the country) so I am projecting a bit. I am impressed that my uncle motored their car nearly 3,000 miles given he’s more used to handling boat oars these days, and I’m impressed that my aunt was tickled by the fact that my uncle completed his version of Cannonball Run. But, what impresses me most is that these two still act this way after nearly 40 years of marriage. Inspirational.

My aunt has said on occasion that the Burger Boys - meaning my uncle and his two brothers, including my dad - are a solid bunch. (Not sure solid is the word she uses, but you get the picture). As a group, the three Burger Boys are some of the smartest, kindest, and funniest people you can be around. When together at family reunions these three settle into old routines and its like watching a seasoned comedy team. Believe me, The Cousins (which is what I call my generation’s cohort) get the biggest kick out of their shenanigans every time, even though we have seen most of it before.

One story that gets told often stars one of my uncles as the Babysitter and my dad as the Troublemaker. They were eating popcorn and my dad decided he’d make a huge mess, and tossed popcorn all over the floor. My uncle, wanting to run a tight ship while the folks were out, asked my dad to clean up the mess. Dad refused so my uncle escalated the situation. Grabbing the collar of my dad’s shirt and the belt above his backside, my uncle hovered my dad over the popcorn on the floor like a Hoover Vac, yelling at him to suck it up. Now, I suspect that parts of this story are exaggerated, but I don’t care. It’s a classic Burger Boy story.

The somewhat flip side to this story is the outpouring of compassion I received from both of my uncles and my dad when I shared I was going through divorce. I’m not much of a phone talker, and given I wanted to share the news to all family at once, I used email. The email responses I received from the Burger Boys were some of the most empathetic and encouraging emails I’ve ever read. It was just what I needed and it helped me along in a time when I felt stuck and without direction.

I provide these examples because I feel they are important characteristics in being a ‘good man.’ A good man supports his family with laughter and love as much as he does with strength and shelter. I’ve struggled with finding the right balance, but feel I am getting close to knowing where that is. My dad once said, ‘when he grows up, he hopes to be just like me,’ which is a tremendous compliment, but silly in that it’s circular logic because I want to be like him… I want to be a Burger Boy because I like how they roll.

A few years ago I went river rafting with some friends down the American River here in Sacramento. It’s a leisurely summertime activity and usually involves a huge rented raft, a cooler, and a whole bunch of friends. Our event was no exception.

We headed up the hill late one Saturday morning in June and picked up our 8-person raft. We were set with food and refreshments and carried it all down the beach trail to the water. After stripping down (just a little), applying sunscreen, and loading up, we drifted our way out into the main stream.

It was a crowded day on the river with many rafts pulled off to the side picnicking and partying. As we came around a bend into an open area we noticed a whole bunch of groups parked along the riverbank. One group in particular caught our attention…

A small group of 3 or 4 guys were huddled around a goose in the water. One guy thought he’d be cool and throw something at it, then another guy had to escalate the situation so he picked up a rock - about the size of a basketball - and tossed it at the goose. Ass. Well, he hit it and the goose began to flail. Seeing this horrible display, one of my friends (an assistant district attorney and a rural California native) jumped out of the raft and swam to these neanderthals to give them a piece of his mind.

Upon arriving at the goose, he picked it up and carried it over to the rock-chucker. He said you need to be a man and put this goose down. The guy refused. This made things worse and the two got into a shouting match.

The other guys did not like this one bit so they came charging toward my friend. This sparked the protective response in two of us in the raft and we jumped out to come to our friend’s aid. It was a bit of a trek, through water and over rocky shoreline, so by the time I arrived at the group, (a good 50 yards from where I had lept out of the raft), our assistant DA friend was back in the water floating downstream, my other friend was being chased into the river, and I was surrounded by three guys - one of whom didn’t waste any time and clobbered me right in the face.

I was knocked off my feet and into the water. My sunglasses were shaken from my head (I ended up losing them). As I was kneeling face down in the river, he continued to punch me in the back of the head until I finally got smart and yelled, “that’s enough!” Once the pummeling stopped, I rose out of the water and noticed about 30 people staring at me. I had been in a fight, got whooped in a hurry, and never even threw a punch. Manly, eh ladies?

Shaking from the adrenaline, I made my way back to our raft and we cruised for a bit until we saw a police officer standing up on the levy (we never did find out if he was there in response to our episode). We pulled out of the water and gave the whole story to the cop. We waited, waited, and waited some more for this group of guys to come by, but they never did. We got back in the raft and tried to have a good time the rest of the way, but it was difficult. Hard to ignore an episode like this. Once we reached the end, we waited again, but still, these guys didn’t show. Perhaps they left their raft and ran off, or maybe they took it with them. In any case, they did not finish on the river that day.

After it was all said and done, I was bruised and slightly bloodied, and there was no one to take the blame. I had made a poor choice to get involved and I had to learn the hard way. I earned no merit badge for fighting (although you could argue I earned a merit badge in punching baggedness), and I was extremely embarrased and emasculated in front of my friends.

Few people know this story, only those who were there that day, but I figured it was time to share. I learned a lot from this experience… 1) if you’re gonna back someone up, make sure they are there still when you arrive, 2) don’t approach a gang with an aggressive look on your face, 3) don’t try to take the law into your own hands, 4) mind your business as much as possible, and most importantly 5) I am not as scary/intimidating as I think I am.

I was extremely saddened by what these guys did to that bird, I was angered that they wouldn’t do the humane thing (after being so inhumane), and I was embarrased when I got my butt kicked. When it comes to my friends though, there isn’t much I won’t do… and that includes taking a few punches.

What can I say about 2009? Not my favorite year, but there are some good things to be taken from it. I’ll leave it at that and open my eyes, heart, and mind for good things to reach me in 2010. Happy New Year everyone.

I’ve long prided myself as someone who can see the brighter side of things… I’ve thought of myself as a generally happy person. And I have good reason to - I’m safe, healthy, loved - but lately it seems all that hasn’t been enough.

Part of me would like to publish a list of things that have happened to me in 2009 that I would never like to experience again. The opposite part of me knows of a happier list of things that have been tremendous. But I feel less connection with those happy things and more enveloped by the unhappy ones. Examples…

I broke my leg two weeks ago. I waited through the weekend so that I can follow the health insurance rules and see my primary care physician. After being referred to an orthopedics specialist, I was provided with an immobilizing leg brace apparently from an outside-the-network provider. So, I received a letter in the mail yesterday from my health insurance stating the brace won’t be covered. The letter actually says, “the service requested is being denied because there is lack of medical necessity.” It later says, “you do not meet the established guidelines for the service at this time.” Nice. So I guess a broken leg does not represent medical necessity. I wonder what does? If I were to have had a severed limb repaired by the Emergency Room would the insurance company have jumped on me for not seeing my primary care physician first?

Example 2 - Tiger Woods. Come on, man. How many people do you think he has disappointed? Other than his immediate family, whom I have sympathy for, he probably lost 100 million fans in the span of two weeks. I don’t mean fans in the sense of his golf game (I still enjoy his golf talent), but fans of him as a person. What an image he has been able to maintain for the past… well, nearly his entire life. Imagine the effort he has had to expend to be so likable. I am sure he will eventually be forgiven by many, but I know someone who is devastated by this series of events.

I had lunch with my dad yesterday and he admitted that he has in fact become jaded. I haven’t known my dad to be jaded about anything in his life, so to me that is saying something. Tiger Woods has been golf’s version of The One since he hit mainstream 15 or so years ago. He has been my generation’s Jack Nicklaus. And for those who watched Jack play for years and years, they know/knew in Tiger there was someone that likely will not be seen for generations to come. This, I fear, is an image Tiger may never have again. We’ll just have to see how his golf game is affected, how long he stays away, where he plays, etc. I believe Tiger is doing the right thing focusing on his family and staying private. This needs to be his biggest concern… once that is settled, he can again focus on less important things like golf and endorsements.

Example 3. Relationships and break-ups are hard. I have not written much about my split from T on here for two reasons: I still care for her as a person and as a result want to protect her privacy, and I have readers who know both of us. So, I try not to generate too much one-sidedness by writing about our divorce on here. The more I think about this break-up though, and it’s been nearly six months since she moved out, the more sour I become on relationships in general. I recently read something by someone who had been married for three months in his early 20s, got divorced, and vowed never to marry again. He’s now 38 and still single. I don’t want to be that guy, but I understand the appeal. After living as a single person for the past six months I appreciate the freedom, but I haven’t gotten over the loneliness. I’ve been busy, which is good since it serves as a distraction, but as I asked my coworker earlier today, “what do I do when there are no more distractions?” I don’t want to endure something like this again so why put myself into the position where I could.

In a time when most people are celebrating with their friends and family, I find myself increasingly focused on the negative whereas the old me would have no trouble pushing aside the bad. I miss that part of me and need to work hard to keep from sliding into this tarpit of cynicism.

I help coordinate a football game every Thanksgiving holiday. We’ve played each year for the past 16 years or so (I’m not really sure when the tradition started), and we’ve typically had good turn outs - 12 - 18 players. One year we even had over 30 players and had to have two games simultaneously.

This year was a banner year. We had 16 guys show up for the game on Saturday following Thanksgiving. As we’ve gotten older, the games have become more serious - people wearing cleats, skin tight clothes, mouth guards, etc. And the offensive and defensive schemes have become pretty sophisticated with actual plays being called instead of ‘just get open.’ We’ve had full playbooks and we play will full offensive and defensive lines, when the number of players permits. With a total of 16 players, some coming and going at different times, we had at least 7 on 7 most of the day. I had hoped for 15 or so and it worked out great.

The weather was sunny, but extremely windy, and it was not warm. Once we picked teams, we made our way to the field and play began with the opposing team starting with the ball on the 20 yard line (we elected not to have kickoffs because of the wind). They struggled on their first possession and we intercepted the ball after a few plays.

Over the following 2 hours+, we traded scores and I was having the game of my life: two receptions for touchdowns, two rushing TDs, and an interception. Then… it happened. On a running play to me up the middle, i zigzagged my way through the line and was tackled at the knees by one of their cornerbacks. (Ha ha, if only this were true). See, we no longer play tackle because we’re old and we want to avoid injury. The reality in this case is that on my team’s very first play of the day, I took myself out of the game when I planted my feet then tried to shift directions. POP… Down I went… under my own weight.

I knew immediately it was not good. I clutched my left knee and tried to stand, but learned quickly that standing was not possible. I was carried off the field and given ice and advil. For the next three hours I watched the swelling grow above my knee as the guys played out a close one. Afterward we went to get pizza and beer, as we’ve done now for several years (I insisted that I tag along because I at least wanted to participate in something). I struggled through the uncomfortableness of the injured knee, hopping to the bathroom, and making friends grab food for me.

I spoke with my doctor-friends and they suggested I keep the leg elevated, use ice frequently, and just take it easy. So that’s what I did Saturday night and Sunday. Then on Monday, when not much had changed, I went to see the doctor. Xray says… avulsion fracture of the tibial spine. I guess I broke a small piece of bone at the top of the tibia that helps guide ligaments into/through the knee joint. I was given an immobilizing leg brace (see example below) and crutches, both of which I get to use until early January. Score!

The unfortunate thing is that I may have also damaged my ACL and/or one of the menisci in my knee. I won’t know until my MRI this Friday. Over the past week I have been learning how to use crutches, been sleeping, working, sitting with a straight leg, and working on my flexibility so I can eventually put on my own sock. I am not in a whole lotta pain, but I am reminded occasionally that there is damage when my knee feels like sending my brain some pulsing pain messages. I’m able to sit at a desk with my leg propped up on a box. I am able to drive, thanks to my dad who traded me his automatic for my manual transmission. I am able to get around with the help of these damn crutches (ya, we’re best friends), which brings me to the headline of this post… anyone know where I can sign up for crutch racing? I’m not talking Special Olympics cuz I would get my ass kicked, but something more along the lines of an underground gambling society where people bet on crazy events. I figure by the end of my six weeks I’ll be pretty quick on these pegs and I’ll be looking to make a few bucks.

Anyway, that’s the latest from here.