MarriedandWhatnot

Well, the fishing saga continues (for those who missed, check the previous episode).

This was a pretty relaxing weekend. I had some work to do, but when complete I had time to just relax with my kids. We ended up renting Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins because nothing else was out, and it was surprisingly funny. THAT’S NASTY…THAT IS YOUR COUSIN! hahahaha.

So back to fishing. Sunday afternoon I was glancing out my office window, and I saw the little boy across the street fishing. I had just joked with my wife about how I hadn’t seen him in months, and hope my neighbor didn’t pull a Desperate Housewives on him (basement, etc.). This kid always has the best luck fishing. He usually has buckets of fish, so I decided to walk over and see what bait he was using. Hotdogs. Imagine that. My sons ended up coming over, and the younger boy let my oldest use his rod. Don’t you know he caught something in minutes? Don’t know it it was the bait, or because it just rained. I grabbed my other poles and went back over. Seemed as my luck had changed. I caught 2 blue gill, and so did my son. Nice size too. Here I am thinking this the end of my fishing folly blog as no one cares about these hallmark moments of me bonding with my son catching fish. After the other kids left, my son and I kept fishing and talked about football, and whatever other things I could teach him. No sooner than I thought about how this would be one of those reflection type blogs, it happened.

No, not the fish hook in the ear. But worse (in my opinion). Red fire ants.

Let me back up. When I first walked over, I had 1, 2, & 3 with me. Number 2 ended up going back in because those bugs were trippin, so 1 & 3 wanted to stay out. Number 1 was the next to leave, so as I walked him back across the street, I pointed out to him what ant hills were, and to never ever play with them (because this kid is all boy and loves to throw rocks, poke stuff, etc.). I get him in the house safely, and go back and chill with 1. As he is casting (and doing very good I might add), I am trying to untangle my line from the last episode. I get it working, and start casting. Stupid thing was not releasing right (of course it was not my fault). So as I cast about the third or fourth time, I am getting irritated by these bugs. At this point, it was beyond biting and started to sting. Then sting more. I look down, and these red ants are going in and out my shoe like I had wet ice cream on it or something. All around my socks, ankles, all that. It wasn’t that extreme as I noticed em before they got too bad, but don’t get it twisted; that mess don’t tickle (playground joke). I took them shoes off, went back across the street and sprayed em down with the water hose prior to going in the house.

I tell you, fishing is supposed to be relaxing but I have the worst luck. Sitting here with phantom itching/burning pains while I am typing this (don’t go there). I should go back late tonight and light their colony on fire. Turn em into fire-fighter ants.

I have a question for you…

Can you be the resident expert at something you are technically a failure at?

I am dubbed the computer guy of the family because I work in IT, and have done web development type projects. So the other day I was talking to a family member about an e-businesses. Since I have a little experience in the area, of course I had a plethora of information to share. Now granted my ventures haven’t blowupchuated (© A. Ashley), but I have learned a lot along the way. I wouldn’t say I was a failure, but I have not discovered the next Amazon nor eBay either.

So back to this conversation. Midway into our chat, I felt like I was in one of those father zones…those places like when I teach my sons from the mistakes I made when I played football. In some respects, I wonder how much help I really was by the time I gave numerous warnings about what not to do. Then while that cog was turning in my mind and I fell into a 30 second pity me festival, I thought to myself – What gives me the right to give advice in an area where I am not successful? You know those quick ruts you fall in when you reflect on all your mistakes, and are hard on yourself and the (bad) decisions you’ve made.

From this question I posed to myself, I went into one of those King’s Island headache-type thought rollercoasters (personal joke with the mrs).

How can you give someone advice about finances if you are in debt? How can you teach me about Jujitsu if you have never studied marital arts? How can you give marital advice if you are divorced? How can you teach me about home ownership and you live in an apartment? How can you convince me to purchase mutual funds, stocks and bonds when you have never invested yourself? How can an unsaved person teach me about Christianity? How can you be my spiritual leader and your own household is falling apart? How can someone from an opposite race teach me about my own culture?

When you really sit back and think about it, how could they not teach you? I can see arguments from both angles, but I believe (in some way) there is something to be learned form everybody.

What do you think?

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky…try to take over the world!”

My motto.

Safe to say I am not a millionaire….YET. I do like sharing things I find. There is an article on MSN titled – Can you teach your kids to be rich?

Interesting article. One of the things that stood out to me was when she stated three key characteristics that she believes most wealthy people possess: risk-taking, creativity and perseverance. I agree. Another point in the article she states,”Trouble is, a lot of kids aren’t getting the financial coaching they need.”

DUH. lol. Maybe this is a duh to me, but I came up in DYT Public Schools. Nuff said. The dboys were actually better at math than kids who actually attended school. Not like we were stupid, but we just weren’t afforded the same opportunities. I moved from OH to TX. Cities are irrelevant, but point is I went from a school system there where literally kids had no books, but photocopied papers stapled together…to a school where…I can’t even begin to say enough good things about this school. It is better than some private schools back in OH. They have a state of the art facility including multiple pc’s in each classroom, a huge library, science labs, and a curriculum that sometimes (homework) even stumps me. Point of all this is, some things aren’t just as cut and dry as the article states. In most cases you have to teach by exposure. You have to position yourself in a lot of cases to take advantage of these resources which exist.

When I first moved here, I explained to an older man I used to work with in Ohio the psychological difference being raised in nice neighborhoods like this, versus the ones I grew up in. You see, I was brought up in a neighborhood where there was always broken glass bottles, broken homes, broken basketball rims. The water fountains were broke and barely drizzled rusty water out. The recreational pool was broken and piss infected. The playground had swings missing, and sexually explicit words sketched on the broken jungle gym. Then that is not mentioning all the geekers/crackheads on our block. My neighborhood was consumed with no hope. Sure we had dreams of doing better, but sometimes it is hard to see outside of your normal reality. The reality where the crack of gun shots (pop pop pop) were a part of our neighborhood ambiance like a weekly 4th of July.

Now let me pause here. I don’t glorify these type neighborhoods, and also want to state my neighborhood was no where near as bad as some of my friends. We were fortunate to not grow up in the PJ’s, but our neighborhood was no Wisteria Lane by any means. I stayed in an old house built in 1910 with my grandparents in a neighborhood surrounded by several housing projects. So even though it wasn’t terribly (fearfully) bad, you also couldn’t leave your door unlocked because theft was as common as the USPS delivery. After I left my hometown, I began to realize how bad it was in relation to other cities I lived. I suppose I became a bit desensitized.

All this to say it is really hard to dream (have vision) outside of your circumstance sometimes. It is not that these kids are stupid, but they just haven’t been given the same opportunities as kids from a wealthy lineage. Take my old neighborhood now, and contrast it to where I live now. The only pop you will hear now is a middle age man going through mid-life crisis and spontaneously going out to purchase a Harley with a loud muffler. These kids have an pool like a water park. It literally has slides like some of the bigger water parks back home (The Beach). They have tennis courts, and clay basketball courts with nets that are actually always there and not torn (nor chained nets). There is no graffiti, or broken grass anywhere. The jungle gym is so well put together that it makes you feel adventurous like a little kid again. And the landscape?? It is set on a hill overlooking a city, and it is just immaculate. I went to the park with my sons when we first moved here, and it was so tranquil and serene this immediate peace fell upon me.

My entire mood was altered by my environment as stress didn’t even cross my mind. Psychologically it altered the way I viewed my future. Yes, drive starts in your mind, but you can’t sit here and tell me your environment doesn’t have a drastic effect on you and how you dream. We always condemn those raised in these lower income areas, but it is hard to see how to piece things together in your life when everything in life you ever experienced was/is broken.

Ok, guess I will start sharing my fishing adventures. This is technically the second episode (since I briefly mentioned it before), but had to add a .5 since there were mini episodes along the way. Hey, my book, my rules.

So I don’t know if I mentioned this or not, but a while back we were going to church, and had to stop to get some wipes or something. Me (being a man) had to look at other stuff in other departments (electronics/sports). Figured hey, we were early so I had time. Looked at the fishing rods, and they had a sale. Two of them were the spinning reel rods regularly priced $49 & $64, and both were on sale for like $14 or something crazy like that. I picked them up, along with a tacklebox, another rod for the kids, etc.

Fast forward. I get them home, and think about going fishing, then realize as cool as they look, I have never used a spinning reel before, nor do I know how to cast. Believe me, if you never seen one, it is not as easy as you may think. I had to go to my internet daddy to get some help. Let me condense a few fishing ventures into one. I get it figured out, and finally start to fish. I start with my pretty cranberry and gold rod. I cast this joker perfectly (for my first time). I go to cast it for the 3rd time, and I hear this huge splash in the water. Now my 3 yr old is a handful, and is always throwing rocks. I immediately fuss at him asking him what he just threw in the water. lol. I mean it sounded like his baby brother hit the water it was so loud. I go to real this in, right, and the crank is GONE. I am SO SO heated. Had to grab the string and pull it in. At this time, I was like Robin Harris off House Party I……THE PARTY IS OVA!!!

I had some other things go wrong too. The cheaper rod wouldn’t cast (line stuck), the baby (1 yr old) kept trying to run and tumble into the water. It was just terrible. I went back to the lab vowing I’d never have another day like that. I threw my beautiful, now dysfunctional rod into the corner of our garage, and started to work on the other open reel rod. A week or so passes, and I fixed the string on it, as well as the string on the cheaper rod (getting lost yet)?

Man, I don’t even have the energy to explain everything that went wrong. Let’s just say yesterday I went over without the kids. I went to cast this joker, and the line…I can’t even explain what happened. It got so tangled I didn’t even feel like pulling it in by hand. I wrapped the line around my hand, and in a fit of rage…

For you fishermen out there, you can see my agony in slow motion before it happens, huh? Me being caveman…me fish for me family. hahahaha. I tried to snap that fishing line. Whew weee buddy. Little did I know that fishing line consisted of a monofilament made of a fluoropolymer having the ultimate breaking strength of a MINIMUM of 150000 psi.

Ok, maybe not that particular line, but boy did it cut me good.

I have a 3 year old, and this is the most persistent child of all times. He will continually ask for something even if you say “no” until he gets what he wants. I mean, I can’t even explain how this kid never ever gives up.

So the other day my wife and I were talking about our kids personality traits, and I was telling her how it is annoying, on the flip side it will be beneficial to him one day. Then I said something aloud that ministered to me directly. I told her that I admire his tenacity because in his little brain, failure is not an option because he understands there is a possibility.

Maybe that just hit me, but man I needed to hear that my dag on self.

My buddy sent me this clip of this lil kid they dub the next Reggie Bush. I don’t really care for the offense they run (wing) even though it is effective. My mentor and I share the same philosophy (which I will save for another post). That being said, don’t get me wrong. Regardless of offense, this little kid has raw talent!! His cuts are so precise.

For my saints out there, forgive me for the profanity (music). Just turn the volume down.

I was thinking about this song Shaquille O’Neal did back on his Shaq-Fu album. Yea, I admit I was dumb enough to get it. I liked “Reign” with Biggie. In any case, he had some lyrics I thought about this weekend -

He took me from a boy to a man so Phil is my father,
cause my biological didn’t bother

I took my son’s fishing this weekend across the street. Didn’t catch anything, but still had fun trying. I thought about how my father never took me fishing (my grandfather taught me).

PAUSE – I’d like to stop right here and say this is not about to be one of those ol whiney, my daddy wasn’t there type crybaby sessions where people blame every mistake they ever made in the world for their daddy not being there. I am just making a point.

So back to my story. I never really thought too much about my sperm donor not being around. But as I got older, had my own kids, and get 1 million questions a day, I realized just how powerful a positive male influence is inside the household. See, my grandfather was there, but my pops wasn’t around, so I had to learn a lot from my boys, and other males around me (church, sports, athletics, the streets, etc.). As I became an adult, there were a few things I needed help with, and I had no one around to turn to. Real sad I have to learn about car repair, or how to tie a tie, or what fishing bait to use, or certain sports, or investments, or credit, or career choices, or a plethora of other things…all from the internet. lol.

Makes me chuckle thinking about it actually. The internet sorta like my half-daddy. Maybe I should sue the net for child support.

You know this has been an eventful week. I had to deal with that stupid drama that I mentioned earlier. Don’t worry…I am not a criminal. Matter fact, that will be the last breath I dedicate to even mentioning that issue.

So I was only in my hometown for a hot second. Unfortunately I didn’t get to rap with all the people I know, but I at least got to meet up with two of my dudes while I was there. We sat and talked about the school districts, religion, real estate, athletics, raising children, who is doing what, and our walk down the straight and narrow. I know, right. Getting old. Crazy how conversation with your boys changes over the years. In any case, we chatted till 430am. Next day I took what life threw at me, and made sure my departure from the city I worked so hard to get out of was as prompt as possible. Hit ATL up for a little 5 hour layover and caught up with another friend there. Coming from my hometown (which was nasty, raining and depressing) to Hotlanta (which was 95 degrees at the time) was a lovely change. It was almost poetic in regards to leaving my past behind…muhahahhaa (evil villain laugh).

But back to the purpose of this blog. I been running around this week with so many obligations that I have not had a chance to breathe. I had a lot of stuff on my STD list for tonight (std meaning stuff to do). Well my oldest got straight A’s again, so I felt I should spend some time with him and put that list aside. I ended up playing chess with him, and the way this child’s brain works never ceases to amaze me. Game evolved into a conversation about football…which was a good life lesson as well. The game ended up moving to my office and me introducing him to my new lightweight obsession – a puzzle game named Bejeweled 2. So as he was playing (slowing demolishing my score), I sat there with my other sons on my lap (2 & 4) and looked out my office window at the man made lake across the street. It was approximately 7pm and a mild 88 degrees. In the stillness of that moment as the sun retrieved and dimmed the sky, I just had to thank God. No matter how much drama I have in my life, no matter how many trials and problems, I have so many things to be thankful for!

I have lost a LOT of close people to me (family and friends) to death, so I am thankful for every minute with my family. I have an intelligent, sexy wife, along with 4 handsome healthy boys to come home to everyday. I also have a close knit group of friends (the circle of trust like bobby dinero), including my goddaughters, that I constantly keep in prayer. I appreciate all of them because they have all blessed my life in some way. I think too often in life we don’t take a second to just breathe. A second to just look at the sky, or watch the ripples in the water. Time to just appreciate our kids (instead of focusing on the bad things they do). I think too often we spend more time worrying about tomorrow and future trials, than the minute we are currently in. Jesus stated to not worry about tomorrow because today has enough problems of it’s own (Matthew 6:25-34).

Life is way too short. Now I know this is cliche, but when you have people close to you die, you take this statement literally. Live every minute like it is your last. Don’t let ANYONE steal your joy. And most importantly, just stop, take a second and breathe.