What I Will Leave My Boys

The recent death of Steve Jobs was yet another stark reminder of the fragility of life. No matter how rich or famous you are, the grim reaper does not care. While I won’t admit how close in age Jobs and I are, I will admit that I fully recognize that my life could end any moment, though I pray it doesn’t. There is still too much to do, see, and too much work left to do.

But, as we never know, I’d like to leave some takeaways for my boys. Some call this sort of thing, “a living will.” Why do we only leave our loved ones our money and our things? Why not leave them something much more precious: our beliefs and whatever wisdom we may have learned on our journey of life?

So, herewith, are my takeaways for my two boys, who are now 15 and 18. They are full of life, full of promise, full of hormones and teenage cockiness. I hope I’m around to watch their journey, but just in case…

Tikkun Olam -Repair the World

Tikkun Olam is a Jewish phrase that literally means to “Repair the World.” I believe that it is our obligation as human beings to do whatever we can to make the world a better place. Boys, please do your part, too.

Fight For Meaning In Your Life

The Occupy Wall Street protests are an example of fighting for nothing. There are real fights to be fought. Please choose the battles that matter and stand up for what you know is right. Don’t just follow along because it looks like fun.

What Goes Around Comes Around

I love clichés. Why? Because clichés are mostly based on common sense and real life experience. While ultimate justice is not always clear on this earth, I sincerely do believe that one way or another whatever you do will come back to haunt you. So, be kind, be considerate, and don’t waste your energy on revenge or hate.

Always Open the Door

I don’t care what is Politically Correct; open the door for every woman you encounter. Treat the women in your life like they’re special. Pick up the tab, be a gentleman, be a man.

Your Word Is Your Bond

Say what you mean, mean what you say, and keep your word. Don’t make any promise that you don’t intend to keep.

Give and You Always Get

The more you give in life, the more you will receive. It’s amazing how this karma works. You’ve seen the beauty of my mentoring our friend with a fatal illness. You’ve also seen the length of my relationship with my by now 30-something “Little Sister,” who I became a Big Brother to when she was eight. Who can you help? Who can you mentor?

Don’t Take It Personally

The world does not revolve around you. Don’t take it all so personally. Most of the time, IT has nothing to do with you!

Sleep On It

Whenever you are upset, don’t respond in the moment. Whether a friend or a loved one has seemingly hurt you, or a job has reached the breaking point, sleep on it. Whatever you think you HAVE to do right now, you can still do tomorrow.

This Too Shall Pass

You’ve heard me say this numerous times. This too shall pass applies to both the good and the bad in your life. When things look dire, just give it some time and it will likely improve. When things are grand, reflect on that joy, enjoy it, and realize that the good times will also likely pass.

Words Hurt, Words Heal

Gossip is something that cannot be repaired. The words you use can heal or hurt. Choose them wisely. Like a leaf in the wind, a mean comment gets dispersed and is impossible to retrieve. Why put that negative energy out there?

Have Faith in God, Embrace Love

We are living in very secular times. Not believing in a greater good -God- means life has less meaning. Where do our values come from if not from God? Where does morality come from if not a higher power? Without God, life has less meaning and anything and any behavior can be justified. And, without love in your life, there is little joy. Embrace God, find love.

Gratitude IS the Key to Happiness

Dennis Prager wrote a wonderful book on happiness and his incredibly valuable lesson within it is that the key to happiness IS gratitude. Without gratitude there is little chance for happiness. Every morning when you arise, thank God for the blessing of a new day. Every day you feel well, thank God that you are healthy. Every meal you enjoy, appreciate.

Boys, you see me prance around the house singing Elvis songs and other nonsense. Laugh and enjoy life but also remember these reflections, because the real joy in life is not the fun you have, but the good will you create and the positive impact you will have on the world. I love you.

Bruce Sallan, author of A Dad’s Point-of-View: We ARE Half the Equation and radio host of The Bruce Sallan Show - A Dad’s Point-of-View gave up a long-term showbiz career to become a stay-at-home-dad. He has dedicated his new career to becoming THE Dad advocate. He carries his mission with not only his book and radio show, but also his column A Dad’s Point-of-View, syndicated in over 100 newspapers and websites worldwide, and his dedication to his community on Facebook and Twitter. Join Bruce and his community each Thursday in #DadChat , from 6pm -7pm PST, the Tweet Chat that Bruce hosts.

No Virginia, There Is No Such Thing As Quality Time

One of my very first A Dad’s Point-of-View columns addressed the issue of Quality Time. It has become an “evergreen,” one of the columns that I believe has enduring value and that I send out to all new papers and web sites when they begin carrying my work. It’s an evergreen because it is SO true. Forget what you read in new age parenting books about Quality Time. There is NO SUCH THING.

In that first column, I shared two examples of how quantity time resulted in quality time with my younger son. Both cases were not planned and both examples were open-ended as it related to time. Kids have their own timetable about opening up and it’s not something you can schedule like their dentist or doctor appointments.

Here are a few excerpts from that column, verbatim, which I continue to believe have merit:

~~ I keep learning this great lesson. It’s something I know, but seem to have to experience repeatedly for it to sink into my stubborn head. With kids, there’s no such thing as quality time, only quantity time.

~~ Some people actually believe they can schedule quality time with their kids -moments when their kids will open up, reveal what’s really going on, and share. They want to schedule this time the way they schedule a business lunch. But, kids don’t work on these kinds of schedules. They open up when they’re good and ready, and it’s usually when you least expect it.

~~ (This excerpt followed the examples that were in the original column): What a lesson in attitude for this Dad. What a lesson for all relationships! When you show up with an open heart, an open mind, and focus on your child instead of yourself, you have every opportunity to win, to bond. This is the quality time we all strive for, though it was the quantity of time together that allowed the quality time to surface.

The busy schedules we all live in today’s crazy world often leaves us less time than we’d like to spend on what we all know are the important things. No one ever says on their deathbed that they wished they’d worked more. They say they wish they’d spent more time with their loved ones.

I like to call parenting a “Lease-option deal” because we get to actively parent, hopefully, not much more than 20 years per child. And, since most families in Western culture average no more than two children, that means your opportunity to parent may literally be just a quarter of your life. Make it matter. There are no do-overs!

Because many families believe they require a dual-income household, and many really do, the time spent at home and with the kids is thus parceled out in often-limited quantities. When the dual-working family emerged and when women in the work place increased, the entire notion of Quality Time was created. It’s bunk, pure and simple.

Nothing has changed with children. They still need and want quantity time with dad and mom. Young children haven’t chosen to enter the work force or decided that they required new cars, new clothes, new tech, newer homes, etc. that some dual working families believe is necessary. Children require love, time, and their parents.

Visit any third-world country and you will see the same scene everywhere: children playing in the streets, making games out of boxes, running, singing, jumping, having fun. It may stun some of our spoiled kids to see how much fun these kids can have without any of the goodies our kids have!

All of which brings us back to what works with children. What works is time. Lots of time. Nothing complicated, nothing academic, and nothing that requires much more than common sense. No higher degree is required to sit and play with your children.

My boys are both teenagers. Don’t feel bad for me. You will be there, too, someday. With teens, your chances of knowing what is really going on are between remote and forgetaboutit. The more you are around them; the more likely they may let their guard down and let you in. The issues around teens are more important than ever with the constantly encroaching world stealing whatever little bit of innocence that remains for young people.

This makes being the best parent you can be all the more problematic. Your only chance is to be there -a LOT! The frank reality is that being the best parent you can be is not difficult unless you want to squeeze it in between appointments. If that is the parent you want to be, get a pet. The moment you’ve brought a new life into the world, that life that human being, deserves your full attention. That is quantity time, period the end…

The Value of Money and Occupy Wall Street

For this dad, the OWS (Occupy Wall Street) protests are a lot of hooey with no message, no cohesiveness, and a lot of mess and disorderly conduct. For this man, it’s a bunch of lazy, spoiled kids looking for an excuse to party. For this radio host, it’s another excuse for MSM (Main Stream Media) to provide yet another skewed view of the news. It is also yet another demonstration of the diminution of the value of hard work and money.

While I don’t intend to dwell on the idiocy of the “Occupy” movement, or dwell on the irony of these pampered kids texting on the smart phones their parents got them, or the organizational skills they’ve demonstrated via their bathroom habits, I can’t help but enjoy the irony of their freedom to “Occupy” on their parent’s dime! Yes, that was the longest sentence I’ve ever written, but my passions are clearly ignited by the nonsense going on in downtowns across the country and those spreading across the world.

It’s the value of money that has given these “protestors” the freedom to organize, keep current at college via their smart phones, laptops, and other mobile devices and the hard work of others who got them this freedom. Their ability to organize a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge is due to the visions of such pioneers as the late Steve Jobs who created the devices that the OWS gang is using to spread their incoherent message.

Who made the money to get them to New York and pay their tuition at NYU and Columbia? Who pays their cell-phone bills and provides the clothes on their backs? Who will pay their college loans for those that didn’t get a free ride from their parents? You know the answer. It will be those of us who still put in 40-60 hour workweeks, who understand how to balance a checkbook, and who actually pay taxes.

Those taxes protect their freedom to protest and their first amendment rights to spew their nonsense. Those taxes provide the uniformed men and women that protect them from the local storeowners whose livelihood is thoroughly threatened by their presence, their vandalism, and the stench that keeps regular customers holed up in their New York co-ops for fear of these mobs of hooligans.

But no, I won’t dwell on these lazy bums. I will try to stay on topic and talk a bit more about the value of money. I worry that my own boys will fully understand the value of money when they leave home. As much as I try to teach them how to save, how to work hard, and how to budget, I don’t know how much has sunk in. It’s a different world that they live in and the jobs I was so easily able to secure when I was their age are either no longer available at all or are done by adults, such as the by-now antiquated almost Norman Rockwell-esque image of the paper boy.

The contemporary high school homework load and required extra-curricular activities that any younger boy or girl must do to fully have the right requirements to fill up a college application are so much more intense and time consuming than what I had to do. Let’s not even discuss the reality that everything I needed to do in high school was available at high school and didn’t require my parents to pay for, drive me to, and otherwise figure out. I was able to do it all myself.

What a novel idea: a teenager taking care of his or her own business! That is how I learned the value of money starting with that long-gone-by-the-wayside paper route that I had. I even had to collect the newspaper subscription fees each month, tally them up, and turn them in. In cash! Can you imagine what that felt like: a 13-year-old carrying all that cash around? Having to protect it, count it, and literally feel the value of money?

Now, the OWS crowd just uses their debit cards to get food, their smart phones to stay in touch with their co-idiots, and their computers to do their PR dirty work. Forget that dad and mom are paying all the bills.

Why are we surprised? What lessons have my generation of parents taught this generation of “revolutionaries?” What lessons have the baby-boomers, who now run our universities, really learned from the debacle of the sixties? Let’s face it, and I hate to say this, but the only good thing that came out of the sixties generation is a few good songs.

Values were lost. The value of money was undermined. Institutions that stood the test of time and respect were trashed. Many of my generation would see a soldier, a policeman, fireman, or the ilk and just see baby killers and uniforms rather than the courageous men and women who wore them.

The value of money is really about all our values. The value of you as a parent is the values you teach your children. Pay attention to what is going on or you will be getting calls from the smart phone you pay for, at the college whose tuition is 20 times what it was 20 years ago, or from your son or daughter asking for more allowance.

My Teen Has a Job

My teen son got a job! Amazing! It took over a year of searching by foot and on the Internet, applying countless times, and uncharacteristic persistence and follow through. It was not easy. He experienced some unfair treatment and he also hurt himself in his efforts numerous times. As with so much in life, we often learn more in failure than in success and that is the lesson I believe he’s gotten from this arduous journey to employment.

The first and harshest lesson was heartlessly and completely unprofessionally provided by a small fast-food franchise. This franchise advertised at my son’s high school for employees and my son applied, along with several friends, and “got” the job. This was in late spring. By early summer, after going through training, purchasing the uniform, and being given constantly delayed start dates, all of these new hires from my son’s high school were summarily fired before beginning work. The lame excuse given was “over-hiring” and the choice to employ only people over eighteen.

We were all pretty outraged since this cost the kids any chance for a job last summer. One mom took the case to the State Employment Board and, after hours of effort may have gotten reimbursed for the uniforms and a couple of hours of pay for the time her daughter spent training. I asked my son if he wanted to seek recompense, but he was so discouraged that he kept on putting it off. He didn’t supply me with the necessary receipts, dates, and “evidence” we’d need to pursue the case. The “lesson,” was already taught that a job isn’t a job until you’ve actually begun work.

While I believe that failures teach us more than successes, my heart was still breaking for my son as this job meant a great deal to him. He’d lost the summer hiring period and that ended up defining last summer for him. It didn’t help that he’d broken up with his girlfriend of one year and the result is that he allowed himself to get mired in a “poor me” frame of mind.

With the beginning of the next school year, it soon became clear that he was drifting a bit, with his only serous commitment being to his music. His efforts to find another job were very haphazard, and my job became encouraging him to overcome this setback and move on. What other choice did he or any of us have when something disappoints or lets us down?

Slowly, he got his spirit back and began applying and searching for new jobs. He chose to do Independent Study for the second semester of his junior year to give him an advantage in job searching, since he’d be available more hours than his counterparts in regular school. He actually became focused and set himself an important goal: to get into a good music college. He began taking drum lessons from a hard driving, tough, you-gotta-read-music-and-know-the-basics teacher. He continued looking for work, occasionally asking to be dropped off at the local malls, to walk their halls and ask for jobs at most of the stores.

He applied at a small coffee franchise where we knew one of the employees. He interviewed with the manager several times. He was encouraged. They didn’t hire him. Since we frequent the shop, one day I asked the manager to candidly tell me why he didn’t hire my son. To my surprise, he told me the truth that he didn’t feel enough upbeat energy coming from my son. Good information. I passed that on to my son. He took it in.

Finally, he got lucky. A local bakery that we frequent was opening a new store and café. I knew the owner and asked about it. He described his ambitious expansion plans and I asked would he be hiring. Application in hand, I brought it to my son who was in my car. He filled it out then and there which was a great change from his previous procrastination method. He then followed that up by going into the bakery, introduced himself to the owner, mentioned he was my son, and expressed his sincere desire to work. He did all of this with an enthusiasm heretofore reserved only when he was going to see his favorite rock band.

Two days later, he interviewed with the manager of the new store, and another day later he was hired. He’s already worked several times and is learning the ropes. His expectation is that he’ll get regular hours once the new location is open which, naturally, keeps on getting delayed. But, this time around, the manager is updating my son, and we all feel confident this job is real.

What advice did I give my son when this job came around? And, what lessons can every teen take from my son’s laborious job search experiences, to date? I offer just these five:

1. Don’t give up.
2. Don’t wait to be told what to do. Always ask what help is needed. Make it clear that you are the “go-to person” whenever something needs to be done.
3. Be available to work ALL the time. Obviously, school and other events will intrude, but keep those clear and mentioned up-front to the manager. Everything else takes a back seat to the job.
4. Don’t be afraid to ask for help if you don’t understand how to do something! Better to ask than to make a mistake.
5. Treat this job like it matters as much to you as it does to the owner.

Thankfully, my son has mostly adopted these attitudes. I am confident he’ll do well in this job. While the job journey was not easy, he learned many lessons that will see him through the other likely ups and downs he, and we all, face in life.

Over-Stepping As a Step-Parent

As I begin writing this column, I find it ironic how little I’ve written about conflicts in my home between my wife, my boys, and me over our blended family. My wife “inherited” my two boys and my two dogs when she agreed to marry me. Having not had kids, she never expected to be a step-mom, let alone to two boys living at home full-time.

Oddly enough, I never expected to marry again and certainly if I did, I only expected to marry a divorced mother. So, my wife and I defied our respective assumptions, expectations, and even dating history when we got together. To be clear, up front, I lucked out and got the better of this deal, without a doubt. Since my wife rarely reads my columns, this is only written because it’s the truth and something of which I am proud.

But, and isn’t there always a “but,” we’ve recently confronted what I suspect is a familiar scenario in many blended families. Without revealing all the details, I will just declare that a recent incident between my older son and my wife resulted in an explosion of sorts, from her, out of frustration, anger, and maybe a feeling of impotence.

The fact that this hasn’t happened before was the more striking realization to me. When I further reflected on the details, I realized that it was overdue, that my son and I handled it as well as we could, and that my wife was a true heroine by not “exploding” earlier or more often.

Like many families, we have our ups and downs and have gone, on a regular and irregular basis, to a therapist. We have been blessed to find a good therapist. Yes, I mean “blessed,” because I believe they are rare. And, we’re further blessed that he serves our whole family, as each one of us likes, relates, and respects him. He has succeeded in making each of us believe that he hears our point-of-view and that he doesn’t take sides. The only “side” he takes is the “right” one. I believe that with all my heart and soul or I’d not put my family’s emotional health in his hands.

One of the things he had advised my wife was that she should largely stay out of the day-to-day parenting, given that I am the stay-at-home-parent. He further said this because she is not only relatively new to their lives, but has joined our family after my sons and I have gone through many turbulent times, of which she can never fully understand.

My wife has taken that advisement mostly to heart. Consequently, we’ve split the parental responsibilities to reflect our respective interests, availability, and our boy’s needs. I say “our boys” because, thank God, my wife now does think of them as her boys, too. She should, as they are. For those readers unaware of my story, you should know that my boy’s biological mom is not in the picture at all and lives hundreds of miles away.

My younger son David, in fact, truly sees Lauren as his mother and she has earned that respect and status in his life. David’s older brother, Will, has more of a memory of his biological mother and met Lauren when he was older and, consequently, he’s been more resistant to her effort to ingratiate herself with him. Plus, frankly, he’s the more tempestuous of our two boys. He’s the proverbial “squeaky wheel.”

The division of labor is basically as follows. I do the day-to-day shuttling of the boys to school, doctor’s appointments, houses of friends, lessons and such, etc. while Lauren has taken on the task of teaching them manners, chosen the chores they’re to do, and supervises their implementation and execution to her exacting standards. When one of the boys requires discipline or consequences, I am the “bad guy,” though I often will discuss what to do, privately, with Lauren.

It was working pretty well until the day Lauren “discovered” a transgression that had become a repeated pattern with Will. Again, the details are completely irrelevant but that transgression resulted in her explosion, mentioned earlier. What Will and I both saw was an adult that was really mad, with plenty of cause, and really not behaving at her best, which included her rare use of expletives.

For me, I got to see a reflection of the all-too-frequent times that I had done the same thing to both my sons. The shock of that event silenced both me and Will, who normally is quite vocal in fighting back and/or defending himself, usually ending up backing himself into a corner with poor counter-punches or getting caught in a flagrant lie. This time, silence served him and me very well.

Later that evening, Lauren apologized to both of us. Her apology was not for reacting to what Will had done, but in the manner in which she reacted. Will was wrong, knew he was wrong, but her reaction had violated our “rules” that had been well established by us, with the guidance of our therapist.

Her apology meant a great deal to me because it came so quickly, wasn’t preceded by my asking for it, and it was clearly sincere. We discussed the problem that had precipitated the outburst and decided another therapy session was in order, as well as further decisions on “consequences” for Will.

I know this is a scenario that takes places in homes everywhere. That it takes place is not the question, but how it is handled is everything. I am grateful for how we all handled it and I hope to learn, get better at our respective roles, and grow from the experience.

Parental Hypocrisy Is Not a Good Parenting Style

I’m an avid skier and this season I took on a role I never expected. I became the “helmet police,” whenever I saw people not wearing a helmet. I did my police work in a polite, respectful manner, but I couldn’t help but get a bit more passionate when I confronted “Parental Hypocrisy” in its finest: with skiing parents and their kids. Parental Hypocrisy is not taught in Parenting Classes or is a recommended Parenting skill or style.

It is amazing to me how many moms and dads will demand and require their children wear a helmet while not wearing one themselves. What are they teaching their children? So, being the shy, retiring guy that I am, I will ask these moms and dads what they think about asking their children to wear a helmet, while not modeling that behavior. Sometimes I get sheepish responses; sometimes I get “it’s none of your business” responses, and sometimes I just get blank looks.

My arguments for wearing a helmet are not just the typical safety ones. I use my personal story of surviving a bad ski accident, with a helmet, and quote my neurologist who said, “If you weren’t wearing a helmet, you would have been dead or worse.” My other argument is the one that usually hits home as I ask the helmet-less person if they ever eat lunch, in the ski lodge? Of course, everyone says, “Yes.”

I then ask if they happen to notice what most of the college-age men and women are doing. If they don’t answer, “drinking,” I remind them of those images we all have in ski lodges, at lunch, of lines of empty beer bottles/glasses in front of so many skiers and snow-boarders at lunchtime. I then ask the “helmet-less” if they think that those beer drinkers, after they’ve consumed their 5 or 6 steins say to each other, “You know, I think it would be irresponsible of us to go out and ski now, don’t you think?” At that point, the discussion is over. Point, set, and match. Many people have actually immediately gone to their cars and got the helmets they left behind because “it’s such a pretty day” and I even ran into one guy, with his new helmet, weeks after we’d spoken.

Parental hypocrisy has existed as long as there have been parents. I imagine Abraham may have tried to discuss the danger of drinking too much with his six sons, but I wonder if he did it while drinking some wine? Did King Tut admonish his sons about the dangers of driving a chariot after drinking too much, and then take his custom-made Mustang chariot, with the flame decals on its side, for a drive with Nephrite, while swigging from his bota bag?

Thinking a bit more contemporary, do you think that Martin Sheen tried to teach his son, Charlie, the wisdom of moderation? Or, did Kirk Douglas teach Michael the virtue of fidelity, and walk the walk at the same time?

I have proclaimed repeatedly, in print and on radio, how our children watch what we do carefully, all the time, and with great impact. There isn’t much we parents do that our children, especially once they’re in their teens, do not know that we do. Don’t be naïve. Model the behavior you want them to live. Don’t be a parental hypocrite.

Let’s talk about some of the most common examples: drinking, smoking, and drugs. Parent who drink must know that they must demonstrate responsible drinking if they ever have the least hope or expectation that their children will do the same. That means you don’t drink and drive. If, God forbid, you get a DUI then you must take full responsibility for it, pay the consequences, change your behavior, and be honest about all of it with your children, assuming they are old enough to understand it.

If you drink and your behavior when drinking is not pleasant, consider going to AA yourself or moderating your drinking. The kids see how you act and it’s not a lesson you want them to learn (from you) at all!

Smoking cigarettes is much the same thing. How can you possibly expect your children not to smoke if you do?

As for drugs, especially marijuana, this is a classic example where parents may think that they might be able to fool their children and imbibe in private without them knowing. Forget it - they will know. Just like you will find out if/when they drink or do drugs. Whether it’s the smell, a leftover ash or device, or any other residue inadvertently discovered or purposely found by your children, they will find out. Your kids are as smart as you are.

When I said “purposely” in the previous paragraph, it was a deliberate choice of words. Your kids like to explore your private living areas. Again, don’t be naïve. If you have a stash of drugs, liquor, pornography, or any other vice, they will likely discover it. So, again I say, you must model the behavior you want your kids to learn. It’s best that you walk the walk and talk the talk.

Life Affirming Lessons From a Suicide

There are many relationships we have in life, naturally. We have family, friends, business associates, and what I like to call, Virtual friends. Virtual friends are those we know via Social Media but may have never really met. I have many of these relationships, some of which have bloomed into meaningful associations and actual real-life friendships. Recently, I learned that one of my Virtual friends had committed suicide. He was a very successful man, father of six, and one of those friends I’d never met or spoken with.

When I learned of his tragic death and the fact that he’d suffered from lifelong depression, I wondered if I might have made a difference had I made an effort to really know him? Depression is insidious and even those people who seem to have everything to live for can succumb to its tentacles of despair. This is evidently what happened to this man.

On further reflection, I realized my knowing him or not was irrelevant. What I took away from his death were all the reasons to live that I believe and that I believe we need to be reminded of and share. Life has so much to offer, so many riches to enjoy, so many experiences to have, that the idea of ending it anytime before the journey ends on its own is unfathomable to me. Maybe share this short list with someone you know who may be living through the trials of depression or may just need a little reminder of the joys to be found in living.

1. Don’t Give Up

Yes, it’s a corny saying but don’t give up. The world is filled with amazing stories of comebacks; of people who were so down they never thought they’d see up again. Why can’t you be that person? How many people do you know that have come back from a setback, or numerous setbacks?

I just think of my parents whenever I feel sorry for myself, which, these days, is less and less. Maybe I’ve actually begun to grow up in my sixth decade of life? My parents suffered the loss of two children, numerous diseases, and numerous financial hardships. My mother, in particular, always had a kind word and smile for everyone she encountered. My dad never complained. What do I have to complain about in comparison?

2. Be Grateful

Try to wake up each day and say “Thank You” for something good in your life. Maybe it’s waking up without pain and you say “Thanks” for simply feeling good? Maybe it’s the simple act of going to the bathroom and your plumbing is working? Imagine if it weren’t?

There is so much that most of us have to be grateful for that we take for granted. This is especially true for those of us fortunate enough to live in the U.S. or other countries with such a comfortable way of life. What if you woke up each day in the squalor of a poor African country and just quenching your thirst was a daily challenge?

3. This Too Shall Pass

This great saying is often attributed to Solomon, from biblical times. We don’t know where it truly came from. Often, someone will offer “This too shall pass” as words of comfort to someone going through something difficult. It’s true that most things do ease with time, even the death of a loved one.

I like to think of this phrase during the good times, as well, because anyone who has lived any length of time knows that the good times can go away just as easily as the bad times may ease with time. This lesson is simply to appreciate the good times and know that the bad times will likely fade.

4. Give Back

The best way to appreciate life, to count your own blessings, is to help others. First, you will feel good. That is guaranteed. Second, you will potentially get a painful lesson in how lucky your life truly is.

Help an elderly person who is alone. Mentor a disabled child or adult. After all, disabled adults still need compassion yet we often direct our attentions and care to young disabled people. Volunteer at a hospital, health clinic, homeless shelter, and then come home and complain.

5. Get a Dog

We just recently lost one of our beloved dogs, Tache, at 15 years old. She had lived a full life and given us plenty of joy and companionship. I remember her and her boyfriend, Simon, most lovingly when I reflect on their devotion to me during a very rough passage in my life.

This occurred during the early months following the end of my first marriage. My soon-to-be ex-wife had left our home and our boys. I became a 24/7 single dad almost literally overnight. The boys were six and nine, and scared. They didn’t understand what was going on and, frankly, at times neither did I.

Many nights, after their bedtime, I would lie in bed brooding, thinking, and worrying. Most of those nights, the boys would sleepily come into my room and crawl into my bed, followed by Tache and Simon. I was always in the middle, crushed between my boys and 150 pounds of dogs. Those nights, those furry mouthfuls, kept me sane.

Of course, there’s a slight tongue-in-cheek attitude with number five, but having a pet during difficult times is quite comforting. Mainly, I hope to encourage everyone to stop and smell the roses, realize that hope springs eternal, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, there’s no time like the present, and to wish upon a star. It will be all right…

My Teenager Drives

I put off enabling my son to drive for as long as I could, but he passed the driver’s test on his third try and succeeded in getting his grades up to our agreed-upon level. I couldn’t delay it any longer. He now drives. As a native Southern Californian, I grew up in a car culture and time when we got our licenses literally on the day of our 16th birthday, or the Monday after, if our luck was really bad.

Thankfully, it isn’t that easy anymore. Driving, in this dad’s humble opinion, is wrought with more dangers than ever, though the cars may have more safety features than ever. Safety features, however, don’t fully account for foolish choices, increased traffic, and drunk drivers. Nor do “safety features” account for the sad reality, again in my opinion, that young men and women are not maturing as quickly as we did. I think kids today are spoiled, allowed to remain kids much longer, and may just not be ready to drive at the tender age of 16.

There’s a common saying about getting older that goes something like “50 is the new 40” and similarly for other major age milestones. I would assert the reverse with teenagers and declare, “16 is the new 14.” Consequently, with this belief and many parents having the same belief and fears, more and more young men and women are not getting their driving licenses as quickly anymore.

Another major change is that “Driver’s Ed,” formerly a course available in all high schools has gone the way of art classes, shop classes, and so many other courses that have disappeared due to funding issues in our schools. Now, it’s done in the private sector and the driving schools in our area are absolutely overwhelmed, and getting the required training is a scheduling nightmare. An adjunct of this change in courses offered at our high schools is the diminution of what we used to call “trades.” Not every kid should be college-bound.

Nonetheless, we got were able to finish the Driving School requirements. I left it to my son to make the appointments, knowing (and hoping) he’d procrastinate. He did. I didn’t anticipate that passing the DMV written exam would require three efforts or that the driving exam would take two. All that just conveniently delayed his getting a license, to my ultimate relief. The delays allowed us to spend more time in the car together and to assure me that he was indeed ready to be trusted with over a ton of moving steel.

My son finally got his driving license shortly after his 17th birthday. We began allowing him to borrow one of our cars. Later, when I bought my wife a deserved new car, we actually had an extra car that my son could use. It’s not his, but it’s quickly becoming his, by virtue of his getting his first job and my relief at not having to schlep him everywhere.

There are many passages that parent’s experiences that bring on strong emotions and melancholy. While it may not be PC (politically correct), I think women have more of these feelings, generally, with such events as a child’s first day going to school. Of course, many parents suffer many emotions when their children actually leave the home, to attend college, and hopefully, if they’re lucky, not to return to living at home. Statistics indicate that something like 85% of college graduates are returning home because they either can’t find a job or can’t afford to live on their own, due to our present poor economy and unemployment figures.

This driving passage for my son was my emotional reality check that “my boy” was not a boy anymore. It was “driven” home recently with an innocuous event that I only thought about afterward as significant. I met my son for lunch at a nearby restaurant. The logistics were such that we drove separately and met up at the designated restaurant.

We ate lunch and talked, and it could have been a peer, an adult friend, or anyone other than my “little boy.” Afterward, we shook hands and hugged, and walked to our respective cars. As I walked alone to mine, it struck me that this had never happened before! The simple act of meeting my son for lunch dramatically drove home the beginning of his full independence. This is how it will be, later, when we’ll likely meet this way, when he’s living on his own -- sometime in his late twenties or early thirties. Just like grown-ups!

“Well, he came home from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
"Son, I'm proud of you, can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head and said with a smile
"What I'd really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?"
(Lyrics from “Cats in the Cradle” by Harry Chapin)

I’m not ready for this!