Shoney's and black Reeboks

"The only real constant in life is change."


I am getting old enough now to understand a few things about life. One of the things I am just beginning to understand is the whole concept change – and the cost of resisting it. Change in constant. Change is no respecter of persons. Change is everywhere. It is inevitable. Fashions change. Technology changes. Gas prices change. God, do they change. Relationships change. Likes and dislikes change. Stages of life change. Love changes. And eventually, change comes knocking on your front door. Kids change us. Pain changes us. Life has a way of bringing about change – some for the better and some not so good. Nothing stays the same, no matter what you want.


Here's the other part of it – the big kicker. There is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Sure, you can try and fight it. Take a look around and take a look at all the mullets, LeBaron convertibles, 30-year-old kids living at home, old folks' home décor choices from 25 years ago, old guys trying to be young (shut it) and companies going bankrupt. Does anyone still really LIKE to eat at Shoney's? There are plenty of examples of people trying to fight change and refusing to budge. Sure, there's comfort in the familiar. But, that's just not how the world works. We must adapt. Otherwise, the outlook can be pretty bleak.


So, what do we do? I mean, here I am a guy that graduated high school in '88, approaching mid-life and fathering two wonderful sons. I am still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Can I hold on forever and keep everything the same in my life? Sure, and I could still be wearing acid wash jeans, sporting a curly mullet (yes, I admit it) and wearing my stinky, yet very cool Sebago shoes without socks (the source of the odor). Chicks go wild over a Chevy Beretta GT - or at least they did 20 years ago! Sure, there are times that I wish I could keep my boys at their current ages forever. They love their daddy and think that I can do anything in the world. That will pass and I am going to hate it. What am I to do?


In the end, the great irony is the fact that the only real thing we can do when change comes is… change. That's right. WE can change. That is the only real thing we do. Give up trying to do anything else. Believe me, I am speaking from experience here. The more we try and control things around us, the less control we truly have. I can't really control my kids, job or anything else in my life. That is, nothing else except for ME. I can control me and me alone. I can choose to remain open to new things. I can choose to look forward and not back. I can choose to embrace the impending changes and be excited about new experiences rather than cursing "inconveniences" that, in the end, seem to make my life even more enjoyable.


Friends, resistance is futile. I must change. You must change. We can do this. If we don't, if we remain rigid and hold on to ridiculous things which are not worth holding on to, then life will leave us behind. I have been there. It's not pretty. And when that's the case, YOU will end up being the one laughed at while shopping at Target because you are still wearing black Reeboks. And believe me, you don't want that.

20 years and counting

I have been expecting the call. I have been trying to ignore it's coming – mainly because I know what it means. It means pain. It means stress. It means I have to look and be my best. It means that I will be measured up and judged…

It's my class reunion.

So, it's been 20 years since I graduated in 1988. And I get the dreaded phone call. It's in 3 weeks. Holy sh** - "did you say 3 weeks?" My first thought – when the fu** did I get so old? My next thought – sh**, I have to make sure that I am in decent shape for this thing. Cue the treadmill. Cue the elliptical. That's where the pain comes from. My ass is going to be sore until the day this thing takes place. The stress is praying I can fit in to something resembling cute, trendy and slimming – does anyone make something that slims 30 pounds? Do they have a cure for ebola virus and how can I isolate it to my mid-section?

Anyway, I love and hate these things. I love seeing some of the people with whom I would love to catch up. I hate seeing the people that seem to fall in to the same cliques they did years ago. Seriously. It's been 20 years. But it happens – which was painfully obvious at the 10-year mark.

I can hear the conversation now:
Classmate – "So Lenny, what are you doing?" Me – "Well, I'm between jobs."
Classmate – "So, how's your family?" Me – "Kids are good. Let's just stop there."

This should be fun. And the worst part? The high school crush called to tell me about the weekend's events.

I need a convertible. I need a good story. And I need a beer.

I am a father and son

I am a dad. I take my kids to school every morning, head directly to work, and at the end of each day go home to my kids who are waiting to hear the garage door open announcing my arrival. ( On a side note, the truth is I am much more excited to see them than they are to see me.) And we have a great time. We play, wrestle, tickle, fart (it’s how boys bond), chase, laugh, cry (when there is an accident which regularly happens), hide as I chase them playing my son’s acoustic guitar, run, play board games, battle on our Wii and do all of the things that make great memories between a father and his sons.

And I love my kids more than life itself. You have to know that above everything. There is nothing I would not do for my boys. Seriously. I love being a dad. Selfishly speaking, there has not ever been a better feeling in the world for me. Honestly. Don’t misunderstand what I am saying here. Love for your spouse not the same feeling of wonder, amazement and hope you have for your children at all. Those of you with children understand this. And that is not even my point here. Where I am going with this is to say that there is something that changes on the inside of you when you have kids of your own. And trying to verbally explain this is like trying to describe the Grand Canyon. It’s impossible to do unless you experience it for yourself.

Yet in all of our fun and frivolity, I have overwhelming pangs and questions that constantly nag at me as a father: 1) my dad was rarely present when I was growing up. Why did he not do more of these things with me? 2) What part of that past is going to screw up my boys’ future by repeating some of the same stupid mistakes? 3) Do I overcompensate for an absent father at the expense of my other relationships? 4) Why do I have constant feelings of guilt and failure for my kids no matter what I do? 5) What is it about being a dad that seems to bring out the best and the worst of who I am?

I don’t have the answers to these questions – or anything else for that matter. Maybe it’s more about being aware of the questions so you are paying more attention when the answers come. I don’t know. What I do know is that I love my family – and I take them for granted way too often. I have got to do something about that - today. I think I’ll go organize a rousing game of “Whack-A-Mole” and share some laughs with my kids…