Junior

A happy Father's Day to one and all. On this momentous day where all fathers enjoy a little round of servitude from their children, a random thought popped into my noggin about naming rights; a child's name.

In my family we have very few if any 'juniors' in our lot. There are a couple who share the same first name as their father; two that I can think of off the top of my head, but they by definition are not juniors. I believe for that to be the case they must also have the same middle name. (I think). I think that might be one of the reasons I have never quite understood the need to name someone after yourself.

I noted the other day a commercial that featured Dale Earnhardt Jr. Although he is accomplished in his own right, it is difficult to perform to the standards of ones father, specifically when ones father is considered one of the best race drivers ever. Think about that for a moment. What kind of pressure are you putting on your son who bears your name? Even if successful, that's a difficult legacy to live up to.

And then there is the opposite issue. What happens if ones father is a total and complete train wreck? If that were the case you have now saddled your child with a reminder of his father as a failure for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, others will routinely make the comparison, often behind your back. Not a great way to try and lead your own life.

And I guess in the end, that's what it's all about. The child should be able to lead his own life and not fall beneath the shadow of his father, be it good or bad. I suppose there are always those who want their child to be just like themselves and there is nothing wrong with that. However, that doesn't mean you have to name your child after yourself.

I think the measure of esteem one garners as a father can be expressed if one's son then names his own child after his father. There lies a measure of respect and love and still lets the grandchild live without a shadow.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there.

Over-used excuse

There was a news article today that showed up on my feed about another reported 'bullying' event. This type of story seems to be the hot button of late. While it is sad there are so many of these stories reported, I also think it is becoming an excuse for nearly everything someones child faces that they are unhappy with.

There have always been bullies. Hell, there were bullies back in the days of my youth. There have been bullies since the dawn of mankind when one caveman figured out he was bigger and stronger than the caveman sitting next to him. Guess what? He picks up his club and 'whacks' him.

What makes this case different is that it wasn't bullying at all. It was a crowd reaction at a state tennis championship. A teenager who was playing in the state final went to school in one state but apparently lived in another. I'm not sure how that happens, but it is what it is. The crowd was openly rooting for the girl who lived in their state. According to the news story, nothing was thrown onto the court, nor was the girl physically threatened.

The match was moved to another court but the young lady and her family simply got in their car and drove home. At that point, she forfeited the match. The father claims it was bullying. I hate to break it to the father, but that is sports at every level from small little children whose parents are raging jackasses, all the way up to pro sports. If you're the 'visiting' team, you're not the favorite.

Is bullying a problem? Yes. Is it something that will ever go away? Not likely, but it's time some people who blame everyone else for their problems learn to, as my dear niece would say, 'get a grip'.

Awash

For the past several days, My Beloved and I have been enjoying some restful time in the sand and sun of Ft. Myers Beach, Florida. It is a relaxing time away from the drudgery of our work-a-day world. I had come down for a conference and she was able to join me for a couple days afterward. It's a quick trip, Friday through Tuesday as we leave tomorrow afternoon.

As is our normal procedure on such a junket, a quick trip to the grocery store was needed; pick up a few supplies for breakfast and some snacks. What we returned with was just the essentials: a half gallon of milk, a half gallon of juice, a gallon of her favorite tea, beer for me, a six-pack of water, an eight-pack of small bottles of Coke. It seemed natural at the time, but let me tell you, I'm floating in fluids right about now.

We are down to the last day and we have just enough milk for breakfast (a good call), half of the juice is still left (bad call), the tea won't last the rest of the day (good call), the beer is likely one too many although I will suck it up literally so as not to leave any behind, five of the Cokes are still in the fridge (bad call) and three of  the waters are still left (bad call).

Now, I am usually not one to over-think things but perhaps we did in this case. Oh, I forgot to mention coffee for breakfast. The condo didn't have coffee so add that to the list. Normally I am not one to buy bottles of water as I already pay handsomely for what comes out of the tap, but I bowed to reason as we are in a state where the temperature routinely hits 90 deg this time of year and cars are hot. 

As I look back it seems we have over-thought the hydration issue and if I want to get my moneys worth, I'll be chugging about a gallon of fluids before the day is done and wallowing like a walrus on the beach. And you know what that means; what goes in must come out. (sigh).

Whitisizms of a four year old

It is an adventurous weekend for My Beloved and myself. We have been charged with watching our grandson, Ragin' Cage. It is much more taxing on my wife as I am relegated to work for most of the weekend. Other than that, it has been fun. He is such an explorer; he gets into everything. He is making the transition from toddler to little boy and it is something to see how much different he looks at the world now at four than he did even six months ago.

One of the things I chuckle at are the 'out of the blue' sentences that simply pop out of his mouth. Most are completely random:

This is my power Thor arm

We need beets. We don't have any beets.

That's a Jew bug (I think he meant June)

That spider doesn't have any legs

Oooohhhh, carrots!

I need some Mr Wormy food.

Patches is pregnant

Can I have a puppy?

The raccoon did it.

I want the kind you eat with your mouth.

Can I have a Toys R Us gift card?

Okay, that's really just from day number one. I'm sure he'll have some other completely random thoughts before the weekend is over.

Moving forward

Since I became a grandfather four years ago, my views about children, their world and how they are affected by it, have changed dramatically. Never having toddlers and very young children of my own, seeing how their world and their parent's world is affected through their eyes is somewhat, eyeopening. I am now a much softer person when it comes to relating to children. I am also influenced to a great extent that I am routinely around North's grandchildren on a regular basis.

Given that background, a recent news event has given me pause. The tragedy of the shootings / massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School is in the news once more. School officials are recommending tearing down the school and rebuilding on the same site. After much consideration, I find that recommendation ridiculous. I know this is a hot-topic issue and many will likely disagree with my opinion, but keep in mind, it is my opinion and I am removed from the situation by a thousand miles.

I understand what teachers and parents see when they look at this school. They are reminded or relive the events that took place. Tearing down this school will not remove the memory. In my view, replacing one brick wall with a different brick wall in the same place does nothing. The children will move to different classrooms as they pass from grade to grade. It is likely that the setting of a school will be as much a hindrance to their growth as any other setting.

In this day and age, it is expensive to tear down a school and rebuild it. I don't know if the school district has the money to do that or not. Whether they do or not, shouldn't be the issue. It is not feasible to tear down every building where some horrific action occurred. Neither am I advocating that the school should be held as a historical monument for what needs to be fixed in our society. I think it would be proper to cordon off the area where the event occurred; there is no need in my view to raze the entire building.

I know it is a delicate situation and many parents no longer want to sent their children to this school. I also believe they shouldn't be required to, nor should any teacher or school employee be required to work in that location. If they are going to tear it down, tear it down, but if you are going to do that, nothing should be built in its place.

A week of baseball

Well, so it ends this evening, the great baseball experiment. If you read my last ramble you know I have been sans-wife now for seven days. During this time, I was attempting to get back in touch with my boyhood roots and watch a baseball game every night.

Well, that happened most nights. I do work nights on occasion and there were two where I wasn't able to complete the lineup. The other five, a good sampling. I saw a slug-fest, a couple pitcher's duels and a couple non-descript games that were good games. I saw both American and National league games; several teams I had no past interest in watching.

I would classify the experiment as a guarded success. I enjoyed the games, mostly the pitcher's duels, as being a pitcher in my younger days, I tend to gravitate to those. I think they tend to put me on edge more than a slug-fest. Well pitched games for me build tension. That's one of the draws of sports; tension. I was also able to squeeze in a hockey game. Unfortunately my Montreal Canadians are in a bad way at the moment.

I discovered I did enjoy watching baseball again, however there is a catch. To be invested in the sport, or perhaps any sport, one must have an active rooting interest. If I were to truly rekindle my past affair with the game, I must reinvest in a team.

My Beloved is returning tonight and with that, I once again will yield the remote.

Tinkers to Evers to Chance

As a young lad back in the day, baseball was my game. I played it in the back yard, in the driveway, on the street and yes, on a actual baseball diamond a few doors away. We lived three houses away from an elementary school that had an actual diamond. That's where I learned the rules and how to play the game.

When I arrived at high school, that was really the only sport I wanted to play. It had been infused into my being. North of 50 and I played many varieties of the sport, just the two of us. We threw rubber balls off the steps and played 'infield'. We played 'first bounce or fly' for hours at a time. We played simulated games where we took turns as pitcher and catcher in the driveway. Fortunately for us, we never broke a window in the garage. Father would have been highly 'PO'd'.

As life moved on and my throwing shoulder gave out, the game I grew up with fell into the background. It has become so 'back burner' there is no team I routinely follow. North's love of the hated Yankees was about the only thing that actually kept me 'in' the game at all.

With the beginnings of the baseball season, I have time for an experiment this week. My Beloved is out of town for a week and I control the remote. Bwahahahahahaha. I have decided that I will attempt to watch a baseball game every night to see if the interest can be re-kindled. With the advent of cable and the proliferation of sports, it should be easy to find a game every night. I won't even be picky about the teams, even though we all know American league baseball isn't real baseball.

Geesh, who bats for the pitcher anyway.... it's the bottom of the seventh...we'll see how it goes.