Whoever said size doesn't matter... lied! (Part 2)

When I'm driving my Civic, I feel like Toad from Mario Kart.  Everyone else is driving normal sized vehicles and I'm driving this little go-kart from a Nintendo game.  And not only that, while I'm driving I keep looking around waiting for someone to hit me with a banana or something.   As a matter of fact, because of the Mario Kart mentality, I come to a complete stop when I see a turtle crossing the road.  The people behind me tend to think I'm this UAH (Uber-Animal-Humanitarian - if that's possible).  But really, I've seen what happens when Toad runs into a turtle shell... and it ain't pretty.

I'm sure the car isn't all bad.  I'm just used to driving bigger vehicles.  I'm used to driving BIGGER vehicles with BIGGER engines.  When you think of bigger engines you think of horsepower.  I'm not even sure if mine has ponypower.  It DOES have a blistering 0 - 60 miles per hour time.  I can go from 0 - 60 mph in about 4.7... days.  I think that lands me on the speed chart somewhere between a scooter and old school pair of L.A. Gear sneakers.  (Don't laugh at the L.A. Gear.  I used to run pretty fast in those!)

It does have a little bit of passing speed.  But that comes at a price.  When I'm on the interstate and I try to pass someone the car literally take a minute or two to negotiate the requested course of action.

Me: (Pressing the gas pedal because I'm merging onto the interstate)
Car: Really?
Me: Yes.  Right now please.
Car: (Deep breath) Are you serious?
Me: Yes.
Car: What's wrong with going 45mph?  A lot of respectable people never went over 45.
Me: Name one.  Never mind that! You are the car.  When I press the gas pedal you should do as I say!
Car: How's that working for ya?
Me: Grrrrr!!!!
Car: Ok. Fine!  Whatever. (Continues to the desired speed while taking a small break at 55 to make sure the desired speed is in the best interest of all parties involved.)

All of that and I'm not really a speed demon.  But I do like a healthy number of horses in my stable.  I went from having 300 horsepower to about 140.  That's 160 horses!  When you consider the cost of the average horse ($1500 - $15000 - I would get one for around $10000 because that's how I stroll!) then you can see how my investment has really taken a nosedive.  160 horses at $10000 per horse... That's means I will have lost $1.6 million throughout the life of this car going from the Expedition to the Civic.  (You can try to look farther into this but the math is sound!  Ask anyone.  I do realize with the gas savings between the two means I come out about even but lets not look at that very minor, almost non-existent detail.)

I guess the real problem with all of this is that I just feel so small next to the other vehicles on the road.  My Oompa Loompa Mobile can't weigh much more than a fat chihuahua.  To be honest, I get nervous when I even pass dogs on the street.  I was going to work one day and a dog on the side of the road was having one of those sneezing fits (which I used to find hilarious until this) and he blew my car to another state.  Needless to say, I was late for work.  But they understood when I told them what happened.  To recap, I was in Tennessee... the dog sneezed... I ended up in Atlanta.  Not a good morning.  (And for those who don't believe me you can follow that story on a very reputable website... MY BLOG!)

There is also a directly proportional relationship between the size of the car and the size of the horn.  I think this is the single-most annoying thing to me.  The horn is so wimpy.  You can barely hear the horn over the engine.  Someone can cut me off on the road and I can't do anything to alert them of what happened.  No matter how mad I am and how hard I press the horn all I can give them is a little... beep.   Sadly, the sound in your head when reading the word beep is 17 times louder than the actual sound of my horn.  And THIS is the horn that's connected to my alarm.  THIS is the horn that is supposed to alert the world when someone is trying to steal my car.  THIS is my first line of defense.  THIS is also the alarm that if I'm more than 10 ft away from the car and a housefly goes by when it starts "blaring".... I cant even hear it.  And that's weird because it registers a strong .0000017 on the Richter scale.  The only reason I set the dumb thing is to see the lights flash when I do so.  (It's sad... but true.)

It has been a few weeks so I'm really trying to come to terms with this.  I can even see a really great positive.  My job is between 37 and 45 miles away (depending on which way I go) and I'm getting between 34 and 37.5 miles per gallon.  So I would say that's pretty good and, really, it's the main reason I even got the car.  (Especially since I was getting 16 before.)  I guess the main problem I'm having with all of this is that It's hard to come to terms with  the fact that on the road I used to be the pigeon (the BMOC) and now I'm just the statue under the pigeon.  (You can figure that out for yourself.)  It happens.

Whoever said size doesn't matter... lied! (Part 1)

Men... We have been told a bunch of mess since we were little.  We were told that it doesn't matter if you win or lose but how you play the game.  (Although that's true to a certain point, it has its limitations.  Like say... the lottery. Or... like the Super Bowl. Or, even a game of chicken.  You can play those games as well as you want but it's really important thing is that you actually win!)  We were also told that if you keep making that face it will stick that way. NOT TRUE! (At least I hope this one is not true.  I have at least one child who makes some... interesting faces.  I will leave it at that.)  We were also told that money doesn't grow on trees.  (The government dispells this myth every single day.  After hearing about the budget I'm 100% certain that there is a money tree somewhere!  I just need to find me some money seeds!)  But I'm not here to talk about any of those.  I'm here to talk about the BIGGEST myth of all.  The myth that size doesn't matter.  (Some of you are ready to stop reading my blog here.  And some of you are anxiously waiting to read on.  One of these 2 groups is really going to be disappointed.  But you will need to read on to figure out which one that is.)

I don't even know why we (men) fool ourselves.  Even the ancients knew the importance of size.  Imagine how the storied history of Egypt would have been altered had the GREAT Pyramid was just been average or small.  We would never even have heard of it.  What about the EMPIRE State Building?  It once stood as the TALLEST building in the world.  That record lasted for 40 years.  But the title couldn't last forever.  Our infatuation with size doomed this marvel of American ingenuity into a mere footnote in the annals of record breaking building heights. And lets not forget about the Titanic.  Would there have been countless movies, books and deep sea excursions if the ship had been named the Dinky (maybe) or the Pee Wee (probably not) or the Scrubby (not sure about that one)?  I mean, the smaller the ship the less of a chance you would even hear about its tragic end.  (The only exception to this one would be the S.S. Minnow. (Bonus points if you know about that famous ship wreck without doing a search.))  So, with size being such a very important part of everything else, why not this?

After much research on the subject of size I have found out that the average is 6.  8 is pretty big.  10 is just HUGE.  And there are those very, very rare occasions when you find a 12 (or higher, Yikes!).  And, unfortunately, for every 8, 10 and 12... you find a teeny, tiny little 4.  And this brings me to the crux of my story.  I didn't want to admit this because I'm a little ashamed.  This is much worse than admitting my fear of horses.  (I'm only telling my blogger family about this so let's keep between us OK? Thanks.)  But, believe it or not, I'm a 4!  And, the only thing worse than being a 4 your whole life is going from being an 8 down to being a 4.  (That really stinks.)  But there's even something worse that that... I'm a 4 and my wife is an 8!  How in the world did THAT happen?

I'll tell ya how that happened!  I went from driving a Ford Expedition (BIG powerful V8) to driving a Ford Explorer (respectable V6) down to driving a Honda Civic (a freakin' 4 cylinder baby car)!  And now my wife is driving the Expedition.  Some things I pass off as the universe righting itself and some things are just plain wrong.  Writing this has upset me to the point that I'm going to split this up into 2 parts.  (Ironically, 2 parts is what you could split my wife's engine into and each part would still be bigger than mine.) So I will see you all in the next part.

(To be continued...)

P.S.  Make sure no one tells Spuds about this.  I'm sure he will have some words to say after the ribbing I gave (and still give) him about driving a minivan.

A Local Celebrity is Born

My fame and fortune have grown 10 fold since yesterday!  (That's a slight exaggeration.) My silly little blog was featured in the Lifestyles section of our local printed and online newspaper, The Daily News Journal.  I just wanted to let all of my readers know that I will not let this new success go to my head.  I promise to not make any extra demands on any of my royal subjects. Now, would one of you fetch me some water.  My throat is feeling a bit parched.

I may be royalty now but I'm not without compassion.  I'm going to treat all in my kingdom (Queopolis) with more of... well... me.  I will present you with the article that has elevated my status.  One thing you will have to do, though, is substitute my REAL name, Que, with my royal name of Toma.  That's not asking too much.  I'm sure this will be just a minor inconvenience.  I guess the price you pay for success is 2 names.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, feel free to go to the article that gives a more personal view into the life of my royal family.  This article was written by Nancy De Gennaro.  I think she did a wonderful job.  As a matter of fact, I think it could be the best article ever written! (I might be a little biased, though.)  So click the pic to be taken to a land of enchantment. (That's another slight exaggeration.  It really just goes to the article.  I will let you decide if there is even an ounce of enchantment in that.)

Quick Father’s Day Challenge

A lot of fathers in the US are waking up today to the smell of breakfast:  Pancakes, sausage, eggs, Fruity Pebbles and bacon. (Because NOTHING says Happy Father’s Day like bacon!  Really, any holiday can start with bacon and be ok.)  In addition to breakfast, there will be other gifts given: Ties, wallets, cards and bacon. (See, bacon is so versatile that it can be a meal AND a gift!) There will be many things going on today in the name of Fatherhood.  But my challenge takes a different angle.  It does a 180 (degrees) on the tradition on Father’s Day.  It does a little switch-a-roo on things.  (If you are a father you should be used to doing things like this.  Switch-a-roo is your specialty!  Just ask the mothers.  They have been trying to get you to do things the right way for years.  And in defense of fathers… we don’t do things the WRONG way.  We just do them OUR way.)

Fathers… Take some time today to focus not on the things you are receiving for being a father but on the things are you are “giving” because you are a father.  Nothing has been more challenging for me than Fatherhood.  (Although, being a Cowboys and a Titans fan has had its share of challenging moments over the last decade or so.)  But because of that challenge Fatherhood presents it has helped me grow as a person.  I’m supposed to help my little ones grow into adults but they are the one who are helping me do the same.  Fatherhood is like most things in life.  The more you put into it the more you get out of it.  It’s like the old computer science statement: GIGO (Garbage In, Garbage Out).  And for that, I want to make sure this Father’s Day I remember to give them gifts to help them grow as well.

  

Fathers… Make sure your kids start out in a better position than you did.  I have no complaints about my childhood. (Well, not many.  I’m still mad that a 2^nd cousin of mine broke my Optimus Prime Transformer and her mom (my 1^st cousin) NEVER paid for it.  But other than that, I’m good!)  My childhood was great!  We didn’t start out with a lot but we were in a much better spot when I moved out on my own.  And I think that’s how a family grows from generation to generation.  We, fathers, need to make sure we do what it takes to make sure our kids start out in a better position in life than we did.  And that’s what I’m trying to do.  I have been working a lot to make sure my children start the race of life with a little bit of a head start.

Fathers… teach your sons to how to be men.  Now, that in itself is not MY challenge.  I’m the father to 3 girls.  And you would think that lets me off the hook completely for this challenge but you would be mistaken.  My challenge is not to teach my daughters to be men but I can teach them how a man is supposed to be.  I challenge myself to treat not on only them but also their mother with respect.  I don’t want there to be any confusion with my girls when it comes to the proper way they should be treated.  I don’t want them to ever settle for anything less than what they deserve.  And it’s my job to give them an idea of what that looks like.  So when I tell the fathers to teach their sons how to be men, I do it for their own good.  If they ever want their sons to have a chance with some beautiful, funny and intelligent women (like my daughters) they will need to know how to treat a lady.  I may not intimidate your son like in the movies when he comes over but I have NO problem with raising the bar so high that he’s gonna need MY help just to get over it! (This paragraph is kind of funny to me since my daughters aren’t dating until they are in their 30s.)

So, whether you are an average Que (like me) or a celebrity like Kevin Bacon (Amazing!!!! A food.  A Gift. A name. Bacon is just grand!), this challenge is something you should take a few moments to really think about.  We all have our way to celebrate this special day.  But today is the day we get to flip the script just because we are fathers!  (Kinda gives you a sense of power you don’t get the other 364 days of the year, doesn’t it?)

(Also, thanks to my kids!  Without you I wouldn't be the father I am today.)

(I think that's how it works, right?)

Goodbyes are Never Easy

To my library friends:

Saying goodbye is never easy.  It's especially difficult when you have so much emotion invested in the time between the aloha and the aloha.  If the moment had been but a brief encounter all would have been well.  A simple "Ciao" would have sufficed.  But the longer the interaction... the longer the circumstance... the longer the story, the longer the ending.

Each second, minute and hour unknowingly adds more and more words to the final paragraph.  Each day, week and month changes the plot and the course of the final page.  Each year adds character and true meaning to the final chapter. And only when the novel is complete do you realize how important every single word was to defining who you are and what you will become.

Another thing about goodbyes is when the time comes, how do you let go?  No matter what you say or how you say it, feelings of words left unspoken never leave you.  It's almost like that feeling you get when you are packing for a long vacation.  Whether you spend a little or a lot of time on the task you always have a feeling that you are leaving something essential out of your luggage.  The feeling is natural.  It will eventually pass... just not today.

Today it will nag you to no end.  Every time you think, your mind will be filled with thoughts of "Should I have said..." When you speak, your words might seem calculated or prepared.  And the more effort taken to ensure the event will go without an awkward moment almost always ensures the awkwardness will be there... two or three fold.

You almost wish you could skip past the moment of goodbyes and move right to the feelings of relief that come afterward.  But you eventually come to understand that denying the moment means denying the relief.  The relief comes because of the moment.  And as time further advances you come to understand that saying the goodbye is a gift within itself.  There are many times in life when we would give up most of our future hellos for one chance to go back and give a missed goodbye. I know I have a few of those.

So, as I say my goodbyes I do so with the understanding that this not a goodbye to us.  This is a goodbye to the way things used to be. This is not a goodbye to the people but only to the moments shared in the past.  This is merely the closing lines of book one in a series of infinite volumes.  And I also realize that no matter how many words I say or write I WILL forget something.  No matter how many times I go over this in my mind it WILL be awkward.  And this WILL nag me for a while but I will have to move on because new stories can't be written without closing previous ones.

I bid thee all adieu and I anxiously await to see how our roles fare in the sequel.