A Few Special Reasons for Thanksgiving This Year...

This wonderful family. This was taken in October on our recent trip to San Diego. Shortly after my pratfall in the tide pools. (See Falling is Always Funny blog)

From left to right. Hilary, Cecily, Bryan, Jill (Bryan's friend) Natalie, Marian and Keegan. Missing are; Chris & Jacey and Bruce (their dog!), Emily and Brandon, and of course Calvin our stupid gay cat and Pele our black lab. One of these days next spring when Brandon returns from Samoa we will get one of the whole group. It's been awhile.

This wonderful wife Marian. Who continues to exercise great patience and forgiveness with me. (OK - so it was taken a few years ago - she hasn't change that much to me)

This wonderful son Brandon. Serving an LDS mission in Samoa.

This wonderful son Chris. That landed an unbelievably awesome "180" on more than just this snowboard!

This wonderful daughter Cecily. Who was recently in the hospital dealing with a blood clot.

And of course... Bruce! Who is always glad to see us.

Falling is Always Funny

Nothing makes me laugh harder than to witness people falling down. The only thing funnier is when Marian sees it and I get to watch her uncontrollable laughter.

For our trip to San Diego I needed some new flips flops and waited to get some in Southern California figuring I would have a better selection. WRONG! All sold-out and not a thing I liked on the shelves. I ended up buying some slip-on sailing style shoe's. The idea was to just get something I didn't care about getting wet, sandy or muddy. These had those cool non-slip soles. I was so proud of them and modeled them in the hotel room before going to the beach making everyone tell me how good they looked. I was concerned they made me look like a middle-aged tourist. My family managed to prop up my insecurity and stroke my ego. About 2 hours later I managed to destroy it.

Natalie, my oldest daughter, and I were walking along the rocks at the tide pools in La Jolla. We were talking, I'm sure, of something of global importance and lagging behind the rest of the family. (Good thing) I had my hands in my shorts pockets and was walking slowly along stepping over small crevices in the rocks and avoiding the clear pools of water in the small hollows. I noticed the rocks were wet where I was walking and had full confidence in my brand new non-slip sailing shoes. WRONG! - Second mistake of the day. It's funny how quick you go down when you hit a patch of green algae on wet rocks.

I have been blessed with above average athletic ability and lightning quick reflexes; albeit a 54 year old reflex at this writing. In a nano-second I went into what appeared to be the old high school football "whistle drill". At the sound of the whistle you hit the ground on your stomach and bounce up running until the next whistle. It wasn't quite that smooth. Yes, I started to go down hard, face first. I don't know how I managed to get my hands out of my pockets in time to catch myself and avoid french-kissing some barnacles. I must have looked like I was doing semaphore at warp speed. Now on all fours I was trying to avoid the inevitable face plant and smearing algae all over myself. Actually, like all egotist athletes I was trying to make it look natural and come out of it as if it were an advanced Olympic floor-tumbling exercise. No such luck. I was slipping and sliding like a deer on ice. You couldn't tell if I was trying to finger paint on all-fours or imitating a drunk spider doing push-ups! I finally managed to create friction with two of my limbs and develop some traction. I saved it! No face plant. I slowly worked my way to my feet, stood tall and acted as if I had planned it that way.

Natalie is her mother's daughter. Raucous laughter echoed off the rocks of the nearby cliffs. She had just witnessed the $100,000 winner of America's Funniest Home Video's. Bummer -no video camera present. I am sure I made the old people at the picnic tables above laugh too. They probably come there every day and sit there just waiting for some gringo like me to hit that patch of algae and go down like a flopping tuna on a sport fishing boat. I was no worse for wear and had managed to not tear any muscles or clothing in the process. Best of all, my ego was still intact, despite my daughters guffaws. I'm just glad the whole family didn't witness it. I would have been the topic of conversation, imitation and laughter the whole weekend. Just a private show for you Natalie!

Editors Note

I have realized that I get a little too serious in my blogs. I figured since the thing that got me started writing was my sense of humor that I should be a little more light-hearted about this and not editorialize so much. So for the next while I will attempt to make myself laugh. It doesn't really matter whether it's funny to you. After all, this is my Blog!

Navy SEALs

I find myself in San Diego, California. Place of my birth. We are here on a family vacation. As a family we enjoy Coronado Beach. I spent a lot of time there as a teenager and my kids have adopted it as theirs. At 9PM Thursday night we were walking the grounds of the Hotel Del Coronado. As we approached the hotel from the beach side I could hear the unmistakable sounds of Navy SEALs training at the jetty just south. We were drawn to the shouting of the instructors, the unified chorus of response from the different teams. Initially all we could see were what appeared to be about ten small groups. Each group identifiable by eight green light sticks moving in unison in the dark distance. From previous experience I knew what they were doing. Paddling out in a raft past the breakwater, then on a signal paddling back in. As a team carrying the raft over the jetty, then wet and cold and in full uniform, standing at perfect attention until the team was told to do it again. Training. It happened to be a warm October evening. The water in San Diego hasn't started to take on it's winter temperature just yet. It wouldn't have mattered. These men train in all conditions. War is not seasonal.

I have driven up the Silver Strand 1000 times and passed the Amphibious Base located there. Home of Sea Bees, the previously designated Underwater Demolition Teams, Frogmen and the now modern Navy SEALs. In fact, the summer of 1975 I worked as a civilian on the Amphibious Base and saw these men up-close. They seemed so old to me at that time. I was 22. In reality they were most likely my age or younger. As I watched them that evening I thought of how young they really were and yet how willing each one was to volunteer to be charged with the responsibility of protecting my freedom and the freedoms of people not of our country.

The first team of Navy SEALs was commissioned in 1962. In 1987 the modern day SEALs became part of the Naval Special Warfare Command. I want to emphasize the word "SPECIAL". The 300 Spartans at Thermopylae had nothing on these guys. I told my sons and daughters who were with me that these were special men training for special assignments of the most critically dangerous kind. We were witnessing the making of the best warriors in the world. I don't agree with war. I hate war. SEALs I'm sure, loathe war as many of them have faced that ugly and vicious dragon up-close and personal. I have only seen it on TV. But the reality of the world we live in today requires men to step up and take a position on the dangerous front line of freedom where philosophies clash and bullets fly. These were the boys that allowed us to keep the privilege of having a peaceful family vacation in Coronado. The irony of SEALs training within the view of the fantasy people were experiencing as guests of the revered Hotel Del Coronado was not lost on me.

I just started the book by Navy SEAL, Marcus Luttrell; "Lone Survivor". It is a true story of Navy SEALs who served in Afghanistan. I don't need to read the book to know it is a story of courage, preparedness, teamwork and ultimate sacrifice. My interest in reading the book has been intensified. I want to personally thank all the people in the military for their service to me and my family. For allowing me to live a free life. I want to thank all the veterans. Particularly my father, Leonard Black Jr., U.S. Navy WWII, my father-in-law, Melvin Sven Johnsen, U.S. Army WWII, and my brother-in-law, Michael Johnsen, U.S. Army, Vietnam. I want to thank Marcus Luttrell and SEAL Team 10. I want to thank all the young but fully capable U.S. Navy SEALs for their dedication to duty, sacrifice and unwavering patriotism and loyalty to country and constitution. I wanted to shout out to those young men, "You make us proud gentlemen. You are the best!" I didn't, and have felt bad that they don't know how this citizen feels. That's why I'm writing this.

I entered a restaurant today for dinner. As I opened the door an officer of the U.S. Navy was walking out. He hesitated, I am sure to let me pass first. I stepped back and held the door open for him. He smiled and as he walked through said, "Thank you." I looked him square in the eye and said, "No. Thank YOU, Sir!" I hope he caught my meaning.

Nice Shoes!

There are certain movies that you watch every time you stumble across them in a channel surfing moment. At least a few minutes of them. If it's late and you're up you will probably watch the whole movie for the 30th time. A few of those movies for me are, Predator (which I watched 15 minutes of just last night - you know the part where Arnold puts mud all over his body and stalks the predator because the beast can't see his heat signature through the mud...) The original Die Hard, The Bourne Identity, and The Italian Job. But they aren't all macho "man" movies either. I always get sucked into Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail. I've already told you I was a hopeless romantic. Two others are Dave and The American President. There are even lines from movies that have stuck with us over the years and have become part of our conversational vocabulary.

There is a scene in The American President where Michael Douglas, portraying President Andrew Shepherd, is getting ready to go out on a date with Sydney Ellen Wade, the lobbyist played by Annette Bening. The President's daughter Lucy is fixing his bow tie and the widowed father asks his daughter if she is OK with him going out with another woman. Lucy assures him it is totally OK with her and sends him happily on his way. As he departs Lucy says to him, " Tell her she has nice shoes. Women like it when you notice their shoes." He later uses the corny line and it works. "Nice Shoes".

This blog has nothing to do with anything, but isn't that true of all my blogs? I just found this cartoon really funny and decided to write about it. It just made me laugh. Maybe it will do the same for you.

Ruuun BeeYotch Ruuun!!!

Cecily -"Hurry, I don't feel so good", Natalie -"I did it!", Marian -"Will anyone run a 10K with me?", and Emily -"Can we go to Cafe Rio now!?"

The weekend took the family to the St George, Utah Marathon. No, we didn't all run it. Are you kidding? I would like to be in the kind of shape that it takes to run a marathon; but pardon me... I have no interest! We all went to support my oldest daughter Natalie in this, her second marathon. The object for Natalie was to finish the marathon. The object for us, the spectators, was to wade through the mass of people and road closures and hopefully find a few places along the way to cheer and yell out encouragement to our runner. I also had time to reflect on the fact of how grateful I was to not be one of those people running by with pained gray faces and beyond weary bodies. I am proud to say that in her second marathon Natalie shattered her time by 38 minutes. A time of 4:33:05. You Go Girl!!

When I caught her at mile 24 I could tell she was in a lot better shape than her first marathon experience. She even smiled and waved. I guess like anything else, once you know what to expect you are better prepared. The thing about running a marathon is the marathon of preparation that precedes the race. That in itself is an accomplishment worth noting.

I am proud of my daughter and her goal oriented discipline. As I have said in a previous blog, "She gets that from her Mom".

Congratulations Natalie. I am proud of you. Ruuun BeeYotch Ruuun!!

People on the Subway

Yesterday I had lunch with my friend Charan Singh from work. Charan is not from Utah he is from Delhi, India. Charan is not Mormon he is Sikh. Charan smokes, and by his own admission has a couple of other unhealthy habits. He is liberal and outspoken. On the surface Charan and I have nothing in common other than we are male, we are married, we have the same job and we both laugh outloud when someone trips and falls. He is not a person I would probably hang with on the weekend or join he and his wife for dinner on a Friday night and plan a vacation together.

Charan has a contagious laugh and I love his sing-song lilting Indian accent. He is an extremely intelligent man in his early thirties and one of the best options traders I have ever met. He and I have led completely different lives. We don't have politics or religion in common.

Charan has a gift of understanding human nature. He is very philosophical and has an insight into what makes people tick and why they think what they think. On many occasion he has shared his observations of me and my successes and failures; my complaints and challenges. He has offered me some incredible insight and advice on conquering the demon I seem to be afflicted with at present. He has said things to me that have stopped me in my tracks and voiced truths that have been painful to hear. He has caused me to ponder and think deeply on what is holding me back in certain areas of my life. He has truly been instrumental in my recent decision and success with dieting.

A week ago he and I were moved to a quiet area of the office and will be working in close proximity to one another. He came up to me yesterday with a BB gun in his hand and asked me to come out and shoot it with him. We set up a water bottle and took turns plugging holes in it from 20 yards. We laughed. He told me a story about when he was a boy. He shot a bird with a BB gun. He felt so bad he picked the bird up in his hands and cried. He took the bird to his temple and asked for forgiveness and vowed never to shoot a bird again. I remember having a similar experience as a young boy. I hit my bird with a rock. I picked the bird up in my hands and cried and vowed never to throw a rock at another bird. After target practice he invited me to go to lunch with him. I am grateful for my association with this man and his insight and caring. He will truly be a light and a mentor and help me improve my thinking and my performance.

OK- Back to the people on the subway.

Our lives are filled with people that are homogeneous to ourselves and our beliefs. We spend the majority of our time with people that think like we do, believe how we do and look through the same glasses. Nothing wrong with that. That is human nature and allows us the luxury to be comfortable in our surroundings and validate our thinking and our lives.

I have had occasion to ride the subway in a few large cities. We board, find a seat alone somewhere and look at all the suspicious and dark people around us. We would never be friends with them. We most likely would never engage in a conversation with them. What could we possibly have in common with these people? And after all, we will only be associated with them for the next 5 to 10 minutes. How many people do we come in contact with that are like the people on the subway? People we work with. People in the line at the store, or seated next to us in an airplane or at a sporting event. People that are very different than ourselves. Men and women that lead different lives, have different political views, religious beliefs, cultures and ethnicity. People we think couldn't possibly know our struggle or have any insight to help us cope, work through or ultimately change our stars. People like Charan that we would never talk to on the subway. After all, we will only be travelling with them for 5-10 minutes.

It is those very people that look at life through different glasses that could potentially share with us the most insightful thoughts about our own journey. They could make our journey much richer, help us see things from a unique perspective and open our minds and hearts to real positive change. You never know. Maybe I could share something from my different life experience that would help them.

My challenge to myself is to talk to more people on the subway. The God I believe in talks to all of them. He listens to them and helps them find answers to their prayers. He helps them see their struggle in a different perspective so it becomes a more positive experience. That's why He is God. He created us all different for a very good reason. Why shouldn't I be more like Him and talk to all the people on the subway?