Five Truths for 50

Tomorrow is my 50th birthday. I am not too excited about it (I liked my 40s), but I thought I should do a post to commemorate this milestone. I spent some time reflecting... should I write about happy moments? life lessons? regrets?  As I thought about the man I've become over five decades, I decided to look forward -- not back -- and think about the ways I could be a better person in the next 50 years.  What changes could make my life better, richer and more impactful:



Photo by Holger Link on Unsplash

1) Be more patient and understanding. I have always been impatient. When I was about 8 years old, I wanted to get to basketball practice after my dentist gave me a filling. My mother said I had to eat lunch first. I wasn't about to wait and miss practice, so I insisted on eating my Ellio's pizza slices while my mouth was still numb from novocaine, and I foolishly took a huge bite out of my tongue (what a bloody mess!). Being a parent myself now hasn't increased my patience. Once a week, I will blow up because one of the kids is working on their "own clock" -- not mine. When my wife hears my muffled curses or slammed doors, she tells me to relax -- and she is usually right. Life is too short...

2) Be open to new experiences. I am a creature of habit and fiercely loyal. It's why I drove a Saturn for decades. It's why I keep going back to the Outer Banks for vacation. It's why I eat Cheerios at 50 years old the same way I ate Cheerios at 5 years old (in a glass of chocolate milk). Do right by me, and I will always be in your corner. The downside is that I can miss out on trying new experiences because they aren't familiar or because "I know I can't do that." Change and new experiences can bring their own anxieties, but I don't want be the dog who can't learn new tricks. Here's to embracing new experiences...

3) Don't become jaded. As I get older, I hope I don't become jaded and cynical (maybe "more" jaded and cynical is more accurate). It's easy to feel like you have seen it all before. How much enthusiasm can you bring each time for "back-to-school" nights and Christmas concerts year after year? After more than 20 years of press releases and earnings calls, how do you keep it fresh? You can lose your sense of awe, excitement or sentimentality over time. I hope I always tear up when Harry Bailey toasts his brother George in "It's A Wonderful Life." I hope each day at work brings me new challenges and satisfaction. I hope I always get excited when I hear "pomp and circumstance" play for my family's graduates. And lastly, I hope I always see life's freshness and possibilities, not the sameness and inevitability. Here's to keeping a childish enthusiasm for life...



4) Listen more compassionately. I am a fixer. I usually listen so that I can understand a problem and then help address it. I don't always listen compassionately. I have read the psychology books like Men Are From Mars, Women are From Venus, and I know that some people just want to be heard and know someone is sympathetic to them; they are not asking for advice. I am not naturally "wired" for this type of listening. It's an area where I must grow (or at least fake it better), especially as we get older and face health issues and problems that don't always have a solution. Sometimes compassionate listening is all you can do. Here's to biting your tongue and opening your ears and heart...   


5) Practice gratitude.  I have been incredibly fortunate in my life. I never could have anticipated the amazing family, career and life we have built. Most days, I appreciate the blessings in my life and scratch my head at how lucky we are. It is so much more than I deserve. My friend recently lost a child to cancer, and I thought about how much he must have appreciated and treasured every moment they had together in her last year. Taking stock of the simple gifts in our lives is an important, positive and great ritual to practice every day. Here's to cherishing every sunrise, chuckle, taste and tear.


The truth is 50 is just a number, but it's a nice mile marker on the road for where you've been and where you still want to go...

Why I Walk

People choose many forms of exercise to stay fit and healthy nowadays. Cycling. Swimming. Paddling. CrossFit.  Why do I walk? Because I can't always play basketball (see here and here)-- and the truth is I hate to run.


I used to run with my wife when we first started dating. It was that period of dating when you would do anything to be a couple and try to impress your significant other, but that incentive doesn't last long. I trained for weeks one time to run a 5K with her, only to have her decide she and her girlfriend were going to do a girl's weekend instead. Ugh!


When I run, I always feel rushed and wonder when will it be over. I am a sprinter, not a jogger. I never know what the right pace is. Before too long my knees hurt or my calves ache. Rather than enjoying this exercise, I am consumed with how much longer it will take. My mind becomes cluttered, consumed and stressed by all the things about the run -- my pain, my gait, my time, the end! I miss out on all the things I enjoy when I walk (and some researchers would agree there are other risks to running). 

Walking for Body and Mind

Walking keeps my body active and my mind clear. I put on my head phones and walk out the door for an experience I fully enjoy. I listen to music on Pandora.  Some days it's Journey or Van Morrison ... other days it might be Enya, Tony Bennett or Tracy Chapman. I can get lost in the tunes. I appreciate the scenery. Whether I am walking around the neighborhood at home or on the beach on vacation, I enjoy the sights. The green trees. The crashing waves. The clouds. The houses. The cars. The dogs. The people. I can be an observer on my walk. Each sight taking me someplace else in my mind -- away from the to-do lists at home or the deadlines at work.

I usually keep a brisk pace on my walks and tackle the hills in my neighborhood.  I track my Fitbit and might do 3-5 miles on a weekend morning, stopping occasionally for a photo or to pick up recycling and trash on the side of the road (see Plogging). 

While I walk, my mind clears a bit and wanders naturally to places, thoughts and solutions I can't find anywhere else. I can reflect on big picture issues or just fun. I might think about interesting topics for a future blog post. I might rehearse a conversation or speech I am having trouble with at work. I may wonder about how to approach and talk with my kids in better ways. I may have the room in my mind to be more creative about solving a problem or consider longer term goals and plans.

I come away from my walks more relaxed, re-charged and ready to go. And isn't that what it's all about... whether you run, walk or do goat yoga (yes, goat yoga.).

What I Learned On My Summer Vacation

It's Labor Day Weekend and the perfect time to reflect on what I learned from my summer vacation.

The truth is, like most parents, we invest a tremendous amount of time, money and emotional angst into creating idyllic summer memories that our children will cherish for the rest of their lives.

In the old days, our parents would fill scrapbooks with photos, post cards and school essays about what we did on our summer vacation. Today, our Facebook feeds and Instagram accounts will help "share these memories" in perpetuity.

Sunset in Captiva

From my childhood, I can recall visits to Colonial Williamsburg, Busch Gardens, Hershey Park, or nameless New Jersey lakes for picnics and swimming. I remember the hot, hot weather ... monstrous mosquito bites ... and overall fun and good feelings growing up with my sister and parents. My wife still recalls the long station wagon rides from Ohio to Florida with her family -- eating ham salad and pimento cheese sandwiches ... fighting with her brothers in the back of the car ... and visiting the neighborhood library in the yet-to-be developed Captiva Island. Fond memories and good feelings.

Summer Vacation Lessons

We all have those precious memories -- or scars -- burned in our minds. So, as a parent myself  who is trying to inflict -- oops, I mean share -- those special moments with my own three children, I have learned some valuable lessons from our summer vacations that I would like to share:

• Eat What You Want. The staples to any diet on summer vacation are chicken fingers, pizza and ice cream.  They can be eaten any day -- and every day -- in any random order or combination for breakfast, lunch or dinner. I am not proud to say this, but my son Will survived our summer trips this year with a steady stream of chicken strips, french fries, Froot Loops and chocolate milk. No permanent damage.  Save the vegetables and yogurt for September. Meals are one fight not worth having on vacation.... which brings me to my next tip.
  
  
• Tantrums and Pouting Happen. Everyone is out of their element and off their schedule a bit. Everyone gets tired being on the run from place to place, swimming and splashing all day, baking in the sun. It can be exhausting. People get cranky when they don't win a card game ... when someone else gets to choose the day's activity ... or when the wifi goes out (and that was just Dad!). We have three kids and as they've gotten older I try to accept that there may only be 45 seconds on a vacation when everyone of them is happy and smiling at the same time. Try to let it go and give everyone a little more tolerance -- at least that is what my wife told me about five times a day.
  
  
• Keep It Simple -- On a more practical note, share the hotel safe combination with the kids, so that your youthful Bonnie and Clyde don't try to crack the safe for their iPads only to "break" it with multiple wrong combinations. Also, buy the international roaming day pass for the smart phones when you cruise outside the U.S. No matter how many times your daughter looks you in the eye and says she isn't using data, she is. And, the data overage texts from AT&T may ruin your day.
  
  
• Focus On The Positive. I will always remember Will's smile when he got to embarrass me in a live "So You Think You Know Your Family" game show in front of 50 people (this was much better than the many grumpy faces when he had to put away his Nintendo DS). Or, I will remember Tess and Emma both being thrilled and laughing to see me get thrown off the banana boat (better than the multiple times they were fighting with the other).  Focus on those positive moments, not the fights, mistakes or frustrating ones (unless those stories become really funny over time). Re-tell those good stories to friends and family over and over, so they become the indelible recollections that are shared for years to come.
  
  

Find Your Own Mind's Highlight Reel

Summer vacations can be overwhelming if you're fortunate. There is so much pressure to make the most out of so little time.  You want to capture those big moments. 

But, in my mind (that place where I keep summer vacation memories from more than 30 years ago), the reality is I have added a few simple moments that will stand the test of time ... sharing a quiet sunset with my wife ... playing "silly" games  in the pool with Will ... watching Emma and Tess do their hysterical synchronized swimming routine in the Gulf of Mexico (The Circle of Life) ... or the girls laughing with each other at the Disney music trivia games. 

Years from now, when my kids are grown and summer vacations have changed, I hope that my tips have left me with a highlight reel of positive memories and emotions.

Let me know your tips and lessons for a great summer vacation and share your 2017 highlight reel. Enjoy!

The Four Most Important Phrases Every Father Should Say

Father's Day has arrived again this year. Time once again to ponder the the unique parenting perspective of Dads and try to offer some humor and truth.

At this point in my life, I am the father of two special teenage girls and one precocious nine-year-old boy. On any given day, they can make me beam with pride, roar with laughter, or want to bang my head into a wall -- repeatedly.

Having conversations with my kids can be a struggle nowadays.

• I drove Emma,(15 years old) to high school every day this year, and the rides were most often me asking questions about school, current events, weekend plans, etc., and getting hollow, rehearsed responses or blank stares from someone who stayed up way too late and was in dire need of caffeine.  I even took to reading parenting advice columns that suggested more thought-provoking questions like "What made you smile today? What did you learn today? If you were a flower, what would you be?" You get the picture. You can imagine the weird looks and responses.
  
• Most nights, I will pick up Tess (13 years old) from dance class. We have 10 minutes, just me and her -- a perfect chance to catch up on those precious father-daughter moments.  I can remember when she was 4 years-old and we would have our special one-on-one time going for hot chocolate before school, just me and her.  She loved those daddy-daughter dates. Today, she jumps in the car and immediately starts scrolling through Instagram and takes over my car radio. When I ask for five minutes of "no radio, no phone," I get the classic teenager eye roll and "I am listening, Dad." I get frustrated. She gets frustrated. By the time I roll into the driveway, one of us is usually slamming a car door or swearing they are not driving home with the other one any more.
  
• Will (9 years old) is still young enough that he can be fooled into a conversation and even seem to like it some days, He will take the dog for a walk with me or ride in the car on errands and chat away. But in order to get five minutes about school (It's soooo boring) or other things in his life, I have to try and follow a 15-minute discussion about the latest Super Mario video game he has played or watched on YouTube. 

So, I started to think, "If I only have a few precious moments when my children will actually be listening to me, then what are the most meaningful phrases and sentiments I should share more often."

"I was wrong and I'm sorry."

Nothing gets my kids attention faster than when Dad admits he is wrong or says he is sorry. They all joke about how I can never apologize or admit I am wrong. This may sometimes... occasionally..., once-in-a-blue-moon... actually ... be true for two simple reasons.  First, I am rarely wrong, and second I am very stubborn.

It may be a trivia question on television (a tomato is not a fruit!), ... an answer for homework (I don't care what your teacher thinks of the Oxford comma...), or a severe punishment that may have been given in haste (If you don't take out the recycling now, you are going to be locked in your room without a phone, food, or water for 60 days!!!). The point is when I actually do say I was wrong or I am sorry, they actually listen. They usually smile. And, they (or we) might even learn it's okay not to be right all the time.

"I understand."

Understanding means going beyond the "When I was your age, the same thing happened to me..." story. I have plenty of those and they don't always go over well. Understanding means empathizing and really sitting in their shoes.

For example, we all have frustrating days at work. Sometimes even when you are the expert and know more than anyone in the room about a certain topic, you can still get overruled. In some cases, rank can still matter more than knowledge.  I was having one of those days when it struck me that this was exactly how my kids felt with me some days. I would tell them that they had to do something, and they would say in an exasperated tone, "Dad, this makes no sense.... It's not fair."  So on one of my infamous rides to school with Emma, I told her about a situation at work and my little epiphany about how she must feel with me. I told her how I "understood" firsthand how frustrating it can be and that even I had to listen to other people and do things that might not make sense to me. Just because you are right doesn't always mean you win. I couldn't tell her it wouldn't happen again, but I could tell her I would listen better and be more understanding of how it made her feel.

"I am proud of you."

We all take for granted that our kids know how proud we are of them, but they really don't. It's much easier for them to hear the nagging or the criticism and think we are disappointed in them.That harsh message can come through loud and clear, rather than the affirming tone of I am proud of you and I believe in you.

The reality is that every kid's goal is to make their parents proud and we should never take for granted that they know that. When Tess decided on her own that she wanted to help teach dance classes, she wrote her teacher a "adult-like" note asking to volunteer, suggesting a schedule, etc., (all without us even knowing), I was so impressed with her confidence, her drive and her initiative. When my wife told me what she did, I asked Tess to tell me about it and I told her how proud I was of her for doing that. She'll never admit it, but it mattered.  ;)

"I love you."

There are no more powerful words than I love you, and sadly these words seem to get harder to say to our kids as they get older. My little guy Will still gives me great big hugs, and I tell him how much I love him all the time. When he makes me laugh with  his sarcastic comments, I tell him I love him and his jokes. When he uses the word "amalgamation" in a sentence and tells me he was bored in school and found the word when he was reading the dictionary, I tell him I love him and he amazes me all the time.


The words "I love you" can become a bit cliche or be embarrassing as kids get older ... "Oh, Dad... please (insert eye roll or furrowed brow here).  They can be left unsaid for so long that we forget their meaning and power. Don't let that happen. This Father's Day, find the moment. Say the words with meaning. You'll find they can go even better with a hug.

Classroom on the Court: "Picking Up" a Lifetime of Education

I've spent nearly one-third of my life in classrooms and enjoyed the instruction of brilliant and inspiring teachers that laid the foundation of my education. I've spent about two-thirds of my life in business offices, working at well-respected companies for some amazing bosses who taught me skills and knowledge that have helped me build my career. But, in between that class time and those business hours, I've learned some of my most valuable life lessons in a very different place.

When I think about places that have helped shape who I am, what I enjoy, and how I treat others, one place stands out: the basketball court -- or more specifically the pick-up basketball games I played throughout my life.

Whether it was Country Village Park, the Yanitelli Center, the Lombardi Field House, the Assumption School gym or other stops along the way, I've spent my life "picking up" games with friends and strangers who shared a common passion, a little sweat and simple respect.

Thinking back on some of these games and places, I can still see many of the diverse faces, sizes and shapes of the other players,... feel the damp cold of some courts and the suffocating heat of others,... and hear the squeak of sneakers on a newly waxed floor or the clang of a ball on a loose outdoor rim,

Country Village Park

I spent a lot of my time as a young kid and through high school, playing on the outdoor courts in Country Village (and the courts at Our Lady of Mercy School).  These were asphalt hard top courts, which were buzzing with games in the summer.

Much of the "grip" from this basketball
 was left on the Country Village Courts

There were three courts and mostly school kids all over the place during the summer. I would get there early and spend hours at the park shooting by myself to improve my game. I learned the lesson of putting in the time and practice to get better. The truth is you wouldn't get picked for a game or keep a court by winning if you didn't have some skills.

I would get into pick-up games with my friends or whoever was around (one-time Leonard Marshall from the NY Giants came by). Simply walking up to a stranger or group at another basket with a little confidence was all it took: "Wanna play?" Three-on-three or five-on-five, it didn't matter. The etiquette was easily understood.

The local kids in Country Village -- mostly from OLM -- "ran" the park, but pick-up games were a bit of an equalizer.  If you came to shoot around, people didn't bother you and would usually include you in a run. The occasional rival crew from St. Paul's or kids from the Curries Woods projects would come by and basketball was the peacemaker.

Where I grew up, there were simple rules and you followed them.  If you scored, you kept the ball (Winner takes). You didn't play dirty. You called your own fouls -- and everyone respected the call. There wasn't much "trash talk" in these games back in the 1980s. If you lost, it was next team up or shoot to see who got to play. It was good, clean, competitive fun.

Yanitelli Center

When I got to college, my pick-up games moved indoors to the bright lights and hardwood floors of Yanitelli Center at Saint Peter's College in Jersey City. Free court time was tough to get with team practices, intramurals, etc., all competing for time, but there were always good runs at night with top-notch players (current and former college players, community members, coaches and athletes from Jersey City). It was some really good basketball at a whole other level and speed -- not the rough and tumble play I was used to in Country Village.

Victor R. Yanitelli Recreational Life Center
at Saint Peter's College (now University)
in Jersey City

The court rules were generally the same, but a scrawny, 5'7 kid had his work cut out for him to get in -- and stay in -- these games.  In this environment, I learned how to fit in,... how to read people ... and I got to know more people who weren't like me.

I became friendly with some of the regular guys and learned their names (Van, John, Tommy). I respected people's boundaries. I passed a whole lot, hustled on both ends, kept my mouth shot and tried to keep my mistakes to a minimum. Looking back, it was an early place where I learned how to network. I became a familiar face, someone who people liked having on their team.

Lombardi Center

When I went to graduate school in the Bronx, I was trying to become part of a whole new community at Fordham University. I didn't know anyone, and my roommate was not a match (that's a story for another time). Most of the other students in my program were part-time or didn't live on campus, so life in the Bronx was a bit solitary.

Lombardi Field House

I started to shoot at the courts in the Lombardi Memorial Center. A big track field house type of facility with an indoor basketball court amidst the track and tennis courts. I discovered that they had a regular pick-up game at noon every day. It was a game organized by guys from the Athletics Department -- administrators, trainers, a few coaches. It was a "closed" game (no students and only select outsiders), but my time and lessons from Yanitelli made it easy to make the right connections and fit in here.

My grad school life was simple -- reading, studying, class, and basketball. I loved those basketball games. It was a friendly group and a daily reminder of what I loved about basketball.  No matter what else was going on with school or life, for that hour it was just competitive fun... make that shot ... thread that pass ... set that screen ... forget everything else. Basketball has always been that kind of refuge and happy place for me no matter what else has been going on in life.

Assumption School

I picked up games here and there after grad school, but as life went on with marriage, kids and growing older, the games and opportunities became less frequent.

When I got into my 40s, some dads from Assumption School and Parish in Morristown started a pick-up game at the school on weeknights. What a great opportunity to find that refuge and fun again. We have been running "old man basketball" -- as my kids call it -- for several years.  The crew has changed a lot over the years with a few constant faces. We have a mix of doctors, brokers, teachers, coaches, executives, etc., but we all lace up our sneakers and leave it out on the court for a couple of hours each week.

The backyard rim
where I still pick up a game
with the kids and cousins

My steps are slower and the shots drop less frequently at "old man basketball," but many of the life lessons from pick-up basketball remain.

• Keep the rules simple
• Enjoy the competition (it's not all about winning)
• Find common ground with others
• Respect people and what they bring to the group 
• Learn to read people and figure out how to fit in
• Do what you love as long as you can

As I get older, I enjoy and cherish each game a bit more. I know my days are numbered in this "classroom" where I picked up a lifetime of education.

Saturn: Customer Service from Another Planet

I am a Saturn guy.  The car brand, not the planet.

The very first car I bought was a Saturn SL1 in 1991: A green, four-door, tan interior, compact with dent-resistant polymer panels for those runaway shopping carts. I remember reading and watching commercials about this quirky and "different kind of car" company when I was in graduate school. A whole new model of American car manufacturing and selling born in the 1980s. The car wasn't flashy or fancy. It was affordable, reliable and it sold itself on being all about the customer. A no haggle, no hassle, it's-all-about-making-the-customer-happy kind of car company. Unimaginable at the time.

I know the story for Saturn didn't end well.  You can read accounts in Forbes or Curbside Classic or view the timeline of its rise and demise here.   The car brand was discontinued by parent General Motors in 2009. Saturn went the way of the Pontiac,  Pinto and Edsel, but as a model for a great customer experience it will always set a very high bar with me.

This resonated with me recently when I was reading The Ten Principles Behind Great Customer Experiences by Matt Watkinson. It brought me back to the way I experienced Saturn as a customer, and how many of the things they did were right in line with his thinking. As Watkinson writes, great customer experiences help set new expectations and then meet them. They are stress-free, effortless and personal; often, they put the customer in control. Saturn did all this very well with me over the years.  

From Skeptic to True Believer

The initial shock of Saturn when it first launched was the no-haggle pricing and shopping experience (see this video). They knew that the traditional car-buying experience left people feeling like they had been swindled (this was in the pre-Internet, on-line buying scenarios we have today). 

So, of course, I was very skeptical the first time I bought a Saturn. In fact, I went to two dealers in different towns to see if it was really true. It was, but I didn't understand how it worked and what they were up to. They set the expectation that you would be 100% satisfied and they surveyed you all the time to check -- and if you weren't satisfied they wanted to know about it so they could meet that expectation (Today, nearly every car dealer does surveys and will do anything for that perfect score).

When you picked up your Saturn, it wasn't "sign here, take the keys and your car is in the back." It was a fun celebration. It was the beginning of a relationship, not the end of a transaction. When I picked up my first Saturn, the car was actually waiting inside the dealership and presented like a gift. The entire sales department, service department, receptionist, etc., came to congratulate me and wish me on my way.

I remember one salesman I got to know over the years, Norm. He was the most laid-back, non-pressure guy you'd ever meet.  He knew cars, but he really knew people. He met with me and my dad. There was no "what's it going to take to get you to drive out of here in a car today" pressure (I've had those, too, at other dealers). It was all about what I was looking for, what I needed the car for, what I valued and what was going to make me happy as a customer.

Finding the Secret to Each Customer's Satisfaction

After having owned two Saturn sedans and one coupe (I told you I was a Saturn guy), my wife and I were about to start a family and we needed a bigger car. It was the first year that Saturn was introducing its SUV called the VUE. It looked like a great car, but it was in its first year of production and so you always wondered if they worked the kinks out. 

I believed in Saturn. They had set an expectation with me that the purchase would be easy. The dealership would stand behind the car. I knew many of the people there (like Norm). And, they would do their best to keep my experience stress-free and effortless.

Well, a week or so after having my VUE, I started to hear this horrible creaky sound every time I would stop to make a turn. It sounded like some old jalopy instead of a brand new car. 

I was still dealing with Norm and I told him this was not what I had signed up for at Saturn. I was not satisfied. He kept talking to me to understand what it was that would turn this around for me. He only had so many options -- none of which made me satisfied -- and he asked me if I would like to speak to someone at Saturn's corporate office, which I did. 

The next day, Norm called me and asked me to stop in. He said he and the dealership owners felt badly that this car wasn't all that I had expected from a new Saturn. They didn't know when Saturn would have the fix available, but they wanted to do something. They would make my monthly car payments until they could fix the car. And, they did that for six months until Saturn came out with a resolution for the squeaking. Definitely proof to me of a different kind of car company.

Some people may have written Saturn off, but for me they turned a disappointment into a great example of customer focus and stood behind their brand promise.

Great Customer Experience Comes in the Most Tense Moments

For years, I stayed loyal to Saturn. The cars themselves were solid, a few problems here and there, but I knew the Saturn brand and commitment to customer satisfaction meant something.

I remember the day I was taking the VUE to pick up my first child Emma at the hospital. I was stressed out and I couldn't get the seat belts to lock up on the car seat I had installed. I was in a panic and called the dealership with a not-so-friendly tone.  The head of the service department Mike got on the phone and patiently explained to me how the seat belts worked (they don't lock until there is tension); he even offered to send someone over to help me out.  I was a little embarrassed and thanked him profusely for the help. To me it was unusual to get such friendly service. For him, it was the way they did business.

The Secret Ingredient of Great Companies

Over the years, I've enjoyed some great -- and not so great -- customer experiences. Customer obsession, customer focus, customer delight… whatever you call it, it is the secret ingredient of great companies – and one you can’t fake.

My expectations are high for customer service, and sometimes they may be a bit "out of this world,” but that is to be expected since they started with a “different kind of car” company called Saturn.  

Happy Father's Day -- Life Lessons from Emma's Dad

Today, I am proud to introduce the first ever guest post for my "Truth Is..." blog.  A few months ago, my daughter Emma had to write and deliver an original speech for her forensics team, and she decided it would be the perfect opportunity to tell everyone about the "life lessons" her father has imparted to her over 14 years. You won't be able to enjoy her dramatic delivery as I did, but the witty writing stands well on its own. She's talented at writing -- and embarrassing her dad. My only caveat is that -- like her father -- Emma is not beyond using an exaggeration or two for the sake of a laugh or good story telling. Be gentle on me. Enjoy and Happy Father's Day to all the dads who share their own life lessons every day!

***

"Life Lessons"

All kids have rules, even if we don’t like to follow them.  There is basically a rule for everything: homework, bedtime, chores. You name it, there’s a rule for it.  Although the rule does depend on which parent makes it.  For my mom, the rules are simple: do your chores, clean up after yourself, say please and thank you, and don’t embarrass her. 

With my Dad, it’s a completely different story.  His rules consist of so many strange things that it will make your head spin.  My Dad calls them “life lessons”, which are really rules in disguise. So far, I have been given the honor of receiving, well, A LOT of “life lessons”.   I will now share with you my top five favorites.

Three Squares

Life Lesson Number One: “Three Squares”.  Surprisingly one of Dad’s “life lessons” has to do with toilets.  It is basically pointed directly at me.  Dad’s rule is, you can only use three squares of toilet paper no matter how messy it is.  Gross, right?  Of course I always cheat on this “life lesson” because, three squares? Really?  

Life Lesson Number Two: “The Sunday Rules.”  What is the worst day of the week for you?  I bet you’ll say Monday.  Everyone hates Mondays.  My most dreaded day of the week?  Sunday.  On Sunday, we go to church.  Now I know it’s not very Catholic of me to hate this day, but in my defense, that day is when Dad’s “Sunday Rules” are enforced.  The “Sunday Rules” include get up early, get dressed for church, eat breakfast, and go to church on time.  Simple, right?  Wrong.  It’s basically a boot camp in my house on Sundays.  If everyone, including my mom, isn’t up and completely ready by 9:30, Dad will throw one of his, “Dad Fits.”  Trust me, a “Dad Fit” is not pretty.  A Dad Fit is when dad yells, but thinks he is not yelling.  He calls it “raising his voice.”

Sammy is not my dog.

Life Lesson Number Three: “Not My Dog.”  This summer we got a new dog, called Sammy.  In my opinion, he is one of the most adorable dogs ever.  Of course with every perfection there comes a flaw.  He absolutely loves to use the bathroom in the house.  Then my mom and dad always argue over who has to clean up the “incident”.  My dad’s favorite argument is that Sammy is my mom’s dog and not his.  He uses this with everything to do with the dog.  If the dog has to be taken out, he’ll always respond with “Not my dog.”  If the dog is tearing a magazine apart, Dad says “Not my dog.”  Dad’s “life lesson?”  If it wasn’t your idea, you have the ultimate out.  Sometimes I wish I could apply this rule to my homework. 

Life Lesson Number Four: “The Rough House Rule.”  As everyone in my house knows, Dad is in charge.  And like every great or not-so-great ruler, they can abuse their power.  But even kings have to have a little fun every once in a while.  What dad doesn’t love playing and getting dirty with their kids?”  And what kid doesn’t love to see their dad let loose?  But this happy playtime sadly does not last.  When Dad gets hurt, the dream turns into a nightmare.  Everything stops and there’s that moment where no one knows what to do.  By the way, Dad’s major injuries usually involves his glasses.  Dad’s “life lesson”? All rough housing stops when Dad gets hurt. 

Emma and Dad -- not on a Sunday,
but a fun day

Life Lesson Number Five: “Airline Parent.”  My final favorite “life lesson” is actually one that Dad made up for just himself.  The life lesson?  Always be an airline parent.  The rule on the airplane is that in case of emergency put the oxygen mask on yourself first before you help your child.  My dad lives and breathes this rule.  He gets to the shower first.  He makes his plate of dinner first.  He gets in the car first.  And you can be sure that if he is on an airplane sitting next to me and those oxygen masks come down, he’s going to put his on first.  Because, that’s the rule.

Oh, there are many more “life lessons” that I could share.  But even with all of these “life lessons”, my dad will always be the best dad in the world.  Now I know many of you have given this title to your dad.  I’m quite sure you have “Dad rules” in your house that could rival mine.  Dads can be real pains and have some crazy rules, but all of the “life lessons” are because they really care.  Those life lessons are actually “I love you” lessons.  PLUS it gives Mom and I lots of things to laugh at.  The truth of the matter is, I love my Dad… “life lessons” and all.