Ace Wisdom

June 20th, 6:09 PM marked the time that the north pole was tilted for maximum reception of sunlight. Yep, the longest “day” of the year.
June 20th was also your Mother’s birthday. We are all happy to help her celebrate because without her, we wouldn’t exist! The celebration will end with a dinner at some fine dining establishment this weekend.
We went to see the “Billy Elliot” play at the PAC last night. It is about a young boy (11 years old). He becomes interested in ballet and tap dancing. Billy’s Dad wants him to be a boxer. So there we have it. It is either Dad passing on his high testosterone interests or ballet dancing. Dancing wins. Dad is happy. Billy Elliot is happy. The town where Billy lived is happy. Everybody is happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Too bad you can’t bottle “happy” and re-sell it.
Grasshopper No.5 embarks on a new job on Monday. It has something to do with computers, software, computer games, networks and stuff. I don’t understand all that electronic stuff but it sounds like a challenge. I hope No.5 finds meaningful envolvement. Isn’t that what we all do. We keep searching for the things that make us happy. There is that word “happy” again. Just take a “Billy Elliot Happy Pill”.
Grandson Tommy continues to improve his baseball skills. He anticipates throws. He hits line drives. I don’t think he has interest in dancing?
Enjoy the weather.
Love,
Dad

I’ve read many stories about the role fathers have played in their children’s lives. There was one testimony in Sunday’s paper that said the most important thing about being a father was “being there”. In hindsight, I had my disagreements with my Dad but until age 17 he was always there for me. I’m sure he had a lot to do with shaping the person I am today by “being there”.
The Green Bay Packers have had a new President since 2008. It is Mark Murphy who grew up with his Dad around the Steel Mills in Ohio. He attributes his Dad “being there” as a major influence in his life. In 2008 when Mark took over the Packers, they were in the NFL playoffs. There were potentially 2 playoff games in Green Bay in the next few weeks. He talked to his Dad about coming to a game but for some reason, they decided to wait until Fall when the new season kicked off. Mark’s Dad developed brain cancer in March and died in July. His Dad never got to see a Packer game. I guess the message is do things now because you never know what the future holds.
I am going to share the 3 pearls of wisdom, Mark Murphy’s Dad passed on to him as he was growing up. Each pearl could be the subject of a blog but I’m just going to tell you what they are.
Pearl No.1. “Don’t burn bridges with people, build them.”
Pearl No.2. “Don’t sweat the small stuff”.
Pearl No.3. “The harder you work, the luckier you get”.
Last Sunday was Fathers Day. I was showered with cookies and CD’s with 50’s music. I have a lunch coming and one Son and Grandson invited me to eat burnt “ribs”. Even burnt ribs taste good on Father’s Day. I got phone calls and cards. For one day I felt important.
My pearl of wisdom is simple. “Always treat people the way you would want to be treated yourself”. Somebody bigger than me authored that!
Thank everyone for remembering me on Father’s Day! Me? Yep, me.
Love,
Dad

I had the car washed this morning. As always, it now goes faster!
I have been struggling with a sciatic nerve problem that behaves much like leg cramps. It is a work in progress. Years ago, Grasshopper No.3 would join me walking in the morning. After about 45 minutes of a brisk pace, his leg would cramp up. It happened numerous times and eventually I noticed he wasn’t walking any more. Grasshopper No.4 has been on a “conditioning kick” and presently is running 3 miles every morning. I saw No.4 yesterday after he had medicated himself with 3 aspirin. Yep, he had leg cramps. I guess when you are athletically gifted like we all are, muscle problems are pretty common. Maybe it is in the “genes”.
I got to see Grandson Tommy kick off his baseball career last night. It was his first official game and he started as a catcher. He has a new glove. He was “buckled up” in all the different guards for knees, shins, chest and face. Oh yeah, when you catch there is a special guard called the “cup”. Tommy was blocking wild pitches. He was whipping the ball to second base on attempted steals. He swung and hit the ball with power. Yep, he is picking up the family tradition.
I even stood behind the fence that surrounds home plate. I could hear all the baseball chatter. I could watch Tommy closely (remember he was the catcher). I had dust from the baseball diamond blow over my feet as players slid into home plate. Tommy’s baseball game did take me back to my childhood when my Dad was coaching. I don’t think Tommy is consumed by baseball yet but the game has a tendency to “suck you in”. That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. The only difference from when I played is that I don’t remember my Dad treating me at the Dairy Queen.
Father’s Day on Sunday. To all you fathers who persevere proudly, may your day be special.
Love.
Dad

I know that stories about maintenance issues on a Lexus usually fall on deaf ears but listen close.
I called Lexus for an oil change because my dashboard reminded me constantly that I need to. I tried to put black duct tape over the warning but it looked awful. When I called Lexus asking for the “service desk” they transfered me. I discovered I had a central scheduling agency in Ohio. Really, Lexus doesn’t do their own scheduling?
The scheduler asked questions about the dealership I used. Then she asked about my name. Yep, I was in the computer. She wanted to know if I wanted to schedule the Mazda or the Audi. I said I didn’t own a Mazda or Audi. She asked if I was Charlie Andrews. I said nobody ever called me Charlie. How about Charles? Yep, there was a Charles in the computer. I was listed on Allison Street. Nope, that must be the Charlie guy. And so it went. I thought I was part of the “Keystone Cops” series. By the end, the scheduler assured me everything was planned correctly.
I dropped off the Lexus at the dealership for oil and filter. The service manager greeted me. Good morning Charlie! Here we go again. My name is not Charlie. He wanted to know if I was scheduling the Mazda or the Audi. Wrong name! Wrong car! Wrong everything. The service manager mumbled something about transferring of files to a central schedule group. Maybe I got lost in the computer. I was assured a new record would go in and everything would be okay. When I picked up the car, a proper bill with correct info would be available.
I picked up the Lexus and was still greeted as “Charlie”. They presented me with the bill made out to “Chuck J”. My guess is that Charlie’s middle initial was J. They did print a corrected bill!
The whole episode gives new meaning to “Lexus cares for you”.
So until next time, I will be known as Chuck J.
Love,
Dad

My Dad dreamed of playing organized baseball. It was around 1940 and baseball was the national past-time (the NFL and NBA didn’t exist). Alas, it didn’t work out for my Dad, so he had kids (mostly boys) and he lived vicariously though Chuck and Jack. My Dad became a coach.
The good news was that my Dad was interested in teaching his kids about baseball. He was smart, talented and involved.
The bad news is that I think he harbored dreams of one of his kids becoming proficient enough to make it to the “big leagues”. He tended to “push” in a relentless pursuit of perfection.
Grasshopper No.4 has one son playing baseball this summer. No.4, like all good fathers, is proud of the son’s effort and mystically, No.4 is suddenly the assistant baseball coach. The “head coach” was out of town recently, so No.4 was responsible for running his first baseball practice, alone!
No.4 also coaches the other son to play football. No.4 is familiar with football drills, not baseball. When in doubt, run repetitive conditioning drills. Eliminate the tackling drills. Talk fundamentals. Coaching baseball can’t be much different from football.
I’m looking forward to my Grandson’s next Little League baseball game. My guess is that when a kid hits the ball and runs toward first base, he will get tackled like in football. Hey, a kid may even come off the bench to block for the hitter. I do think wearing a football helmet while playing second base will look funny.
Actually, I have to compliment No.4 for being involved. I don’t think he harbors unreasonable dreams. He does understand “fun”. Most of all, time goes by very, very fast and is “oh so” precious. Enjoying the moment is what it is all about.
All that is left is winning. Win baby. Win at all costs! Kill ’em! Oops, I got carried away. Just like all other dads in the world.
Love,
Dad

If you want to feel the power, vote today. It is your right! Nobody can take it away from you. I voted this morning after my strenuous exercise program. The last time I voted, I was number 97. Today I was number 251.
When I was in Madison last week to attend Mitchell’s graduation, Grasshopper No.2 offered to “adjust” me for the sciatic nerve in my right leg. In the past, I have been able to rehabilitate myself by “walking through the pain”. This time when I was struck with sciatic pain, it stopped me in my tracks. This “getting old” sh– ain’t fun! Grasshopper No.2 took me to the clinic, had patience with an old man and slowly adjusted about 4-5 spinal areas. She wrote the technical information down for me. Officially it is called “piliformis syndrome”. Yep, that is what I have. The old “PS” problem. For several days after her adjustment, everything hurt. My back, my hip, my leg and my ass. I mean really hurt. My assumption is that everything was pushed back to “normal” which suddenly became uncomfortable. I have resumed my walking starting with “very slow”, improving to liesurely stroll. If I take it easy, my exercise seems pain free. My guess is that there is more adjustment in my future, but I now have hope. No.2 has the power. Healing and fixing people is a powerful skill. Thank you from a grateful dad.
I watched Tiger Woods win his hero’s golf tournament over the weekend, The Memorial sponsored by Jack Nicklaus. The TV ratings with Tiger playing on Sunday improved by 138% over last year, when he didn’t play. Tiger clearly has the power.
Power comes in many forms. You too have power. Use it.
Love,
Dad

Your Mom and I attended the graduation of Grandson Mitchell from High Point Middle School. The Christian school celebrates both academic and personal development. This year the graduates were allowed to be creative with their own ceremony. They decided to “pair off” as they exited the stage in the recessional. The fun part is they chose to dance, boogey or skip up the aisle. Mitchell chose to hook-up with two beautiful young ladies, one cuddled in each arm and they boogied through the whole exit. I couldn’t help think that any kid able to bounce through life with a girl on each arm is destined for greatness. Perhaps he has the “stuff of greatness” I’m talking about.
Donald Driver of Green Bay Packers fame has just signed a reduced contract to be with the team for another year. He had to pass the physical in order to activate the contract. It was determined he had 2% body fat. I am not an expert, but 2% body fat means you are mostly muscle and bone. It is an unbelieveable low fat level. I will say he looked every bit as trim on “Dancing with the Stars”. I’m sure Donald has the “stuff of greatness”.
One of the graduates with Mitchell was his friend Blake Richter. Blake’s grandfather is Pat Richter. Pat played football and baseball at the UW-Madison many, many years ago. I think Pat played some NFL football. The huge role that Pat played in the late 1980’s was as an administrator. He was the VP of Human Resources at Oscar Meyer. He was lured away to become Athletic Director for the UW. His first action was to hire Barry Alverez to coach the football team. The rest is history. Pat was smart enough to hire good people. He brought in Dick Bennett to turn the basketball program around followed by Bo Ryan. Imagine that! Hire good people and they make the boss look good. Seeing Pat Richter brought back memories of all the good decisions. Amazingly, Pat’s greatness came from dealing with people, not scoring touchdowns. Pat sought me out at the festivities and we talked over old times. Yeah, right. Pat doesn’t know me from apple butter.
So you see, greatness comes in many forms. Develop your “great” abilities.
Love,
Dad