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!

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"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.  

          

The Quiet Man's Commencement Speech

Two years ago, I had this idea that everyone has a commencement speech to give. Everyone has lessons to share, stories to tell, advice to give -- if only someone asks.

It's an idea that returns to my mind every spring as graduates roll across stages, "Pomp and Circumstance" plays in your head, and the "best" commencement speeches flood social media.

My first try at this topic was with my mother in 2014. An ordinary woman by many standard measures, but an extraordinary woman by my standards.  You can read about her commencement advice here.

A Reluctant Speaker

This year, I decided to return to this topic. Naturally, I called on my father. The other half of my wise parenting duo. He wasn't enthusiastic about the idea. "I hoped you had forgotten," he said when I showed up at his house with my pen and pad ready for his interview.

My dad is a man of few words. He's a quiet man. Some of that might be because he has spent more than 50 years of his life competing with my chatty mom for an audience or "air-time." Some of it might just be his nature -- introverted and humble.

If you've never interviewed your parents, I highly recommend it. In my line of work, I've interviewed CEOs, scientists, business people, historians, etc., and my approach is always to be prepared with questions, but to probe and follow-up looking for the "story" or the color. It's a totally different dynamic and you learn things about their lives and their thinking that you may have never  have known before.

A Stable Boy and Soda Jerk from Jersey City 

My father has lived quite an interesting life over his 75 years. He has seen some amazing things and earned a great life with hard work. He could certainly teach some life lessons to this year's class of graduates.

My father grew up in Jersey City. His father was  a Scottish immigrant from Edinburgh, a tradesman. His mother was a Jersey City girl who worked for the phone company. I think he inherited his work ethic, quiet demeanor and handy-man qualities from his working class parents.

When you ask my father about his youth, the answers come slowly. It's like he is thoughtfully walking down a hall in his mind slowly remembering different people and moments. He opens and closes doors, and only tells you bits and pieces. He is still skeptical about the point to all of this.

I find out that when he was 15 years old, he  ran a stable in Jersey City  for a collection of horse owners. What? I can't fathom horse stables in the Jersey City where I grew up, but it existed down where Country Village is today and people rode in the parks and on some trails. The owners paid my father about $5 a week to clean, feed and care for the horses.  He tells me a bit about "Sarge," a tall black gelding jumper that he really liked.
 
That was his morning work. After school in the afternoons, he worked the counter at Pete & Henry's shop on the corner of Cator and Fowler Avenues (two blocks from where he lives today). He was a "soda jerk" as they called them in those days, making malteds and egg creams for the regulars. When I asked, he could still describe how he made the best egg cream in town (see classic recipe here). I learn that my father was an original "barista" mastering froth long before Starbucks.

And then on the weekends, he had yet another job, washing cars and pumping gas at Ed's service station. Horses, egg creams and cars. What else could a teenaged boy in Jersey City desire?

My quiet father doesn't really offer any great wisdom for graduates from this period of his life, but I think it tells its own message about the value of a strong work ethic.

Working in the Hallowed Halls of Bell Labs

In between these jobs, my father graduated from Snyder High School, where he specialized in Industrial Arts. He got his first job at AT&T Bell Labs and worked for a year in one of their electrical shops making coils for new phone prototypes and equipment. Then, he joined the U.S. Air Force.

He saw the world (San Antonio, Tex.., Wichita Falls, Ks., and Mt, Hebo, Oregon!!) and learned another trade -- air conditioning and cooling systems. As a kid, I never rally understood the A/C system and Air Force connection. Was my father the Maytag man for the military? No, my father explained that they needed major A/C systems to keep all the advanced radar equipment cool at the station in Oregon. They were keeping an eye on our neighbors in the Soviet Union and on the lookout for Russian aircraft.

After four years my father returned home to Jersey City to marry my mother. He went back to AT&T Bell Labs and worked there for 36 years.

The transistor was invented at Bell Labs in 1947,
one of the hallmark breakthroughs of this invention factory

My father beams with pride -- as much as this stoic man beams at all -- when he talks about "the Labs." He started out as a union member (AFL-CIO) and worked as a mechanic in various shops. It was an exciting era for Bell Labs and telecommunications. My father shared the halls and cafeteria with brilliant people who invented the transistor, discovered the Big Bang Theory and launched the first Telstar satellite.(Read a history of Bell Labs inventions here). 


He took great pride in being part of such a forward-looking place that was shaping technology and society. Some of the prototypes and materials he worked on became parts of the miniaturized circuit boards that would end up in the first telecommunication satellites circling the earth, the first Picture Phone (40 years before FaceTime) and the lasers that became the foundation of today's fiber optic networks.

Bell Labs was a special place and my father felt special for working there. His career progressed over the years into management jobs, overseeing the mailroom and loading dock operations as well as semiconductor clean rooms. He enjoyed supervising teams. "I always tried to treat them they way I wanted to be treated," he said. "It was always about getting the job done right."

I hear him talk about his time there and the lesson I take away for graduates is to pick a workplace, a company and a job you can be proud of. Be part of making a difference in the world. Understand and appreciate how your role -- whether it's fabricating silicon chips or delivering the mail -- is part of a bigger picture. Enjoy being part of something bigger than yourself that can change the world.

Times Change, But Don't be Afraid

In 1994, times were changing. AT&T, the former Ma Bell monopoly, was still trying to compete on a global stage and the old "contract for life" mentality was being tattered there and across Corporate America. My father, "the company man," essentially worked himself out of a  job and got a harsh dose of reality that many in his generation didn't see coming. He was "downsized" by AT&T after 36 years. "I didn't expect it," he said.  He would go onto work at Essex County College for another nine years, but leaving his home at Bell Labs was not easy.

When I asked my father what he would want to instill in graduates, the first thing he said was "Don't be afraid of change." This surprised me given the fact he spent half his life with one company. He talked about the changes he faced going from union jobs to management ranks at AT&T and other moments in his career. "Change is always challenging, but it taught me about different things that I enjoyed doing. Don't second guess yourself."

Education also means a great deal to my father, who has a high school diploma and a master's degree from the school of hard knocks. He would emphasize that to today's graduates: "I didn't have certain opportunities because I didn't have the education."

One More Lesson

At the end of our interview, I asked my dad about lessons he learned from people in his life, whom he admired. He returned to his youth and the horse stables. He described Sarge's owner, Bill Leach. "I always admired the way he carried himself with people and the way he dealt with problems in his life. He was very quiet, very deliberate and had a very calm demeanor." 

Ironically -- or perhaps not -- my father seems to be describing the man he has become since he was a redheaded teenager. Quiet, deliberate and someone to be admired. 

In our interview, he shared with me simple truths from his life about the value of hard work, handling change and treating people right. It's not a commencement speech that you'll find on YouTube, but it is a thoughtful conversation with one student -- his son -- who is still taking notes and learning lessons from his father. Class dismissed.

The Three C's of Great Mentoring

The other night I went to a fancy business dinner and ran into a long-time mentor of mine. Seeing him for the first time in a couple of years, I started to think about whether he realized the positive impact he had on me, my career and even my family. His advice and actions over the years had been very meaningful to me.  I took him aside for a moment and said thanks.  Thanks for everything.

He was someone I had turned to at key times in my career. When I was stepping into my first real leadership role with difficult personnel decisions, he was there with advice and help. When I was leaving the "nest" of one company to venture off to another, he was there to wish me luck and reassure me. When I was looking to make another career change, he helped open a door and gave me good advice about my life, not just my career.

I've been fortunate to have several special mentors in my career.  People who shaped me, steered me and set me on my path. As I reflect on what the best mentors in my life have given me, the truth is it can be summarized in 3 C's: Counsel, Candor and Confidence.

Counsel

Every good mentor provides you with the counsel, advice and opportunities to grow and develop your skills.  Some of the most valuable mentoring I received came from just sitting across the desk of one of my bosses. I've never read a text book that could really show you the art of media relations -- the trust-building with reporters ... the artful back and forth negotiations ... the anticipation of issues and answers ... the careful choices of words. For several years, my boss would call me up to her office for a call with The Wall Street Journal or The New York Times. Sometimes I might be prepping her with background on the issue, but more often it was just the chance to sit across the desk, listen and learn.

I had another mentor who showed me the ropes when I transitioned to a new company with a very strong and distinct culture. She wasn't in public relations like me -- and to be honest there weren't a whole lot of PR people that she felt were real valuable -- but I was able  to gain her respect and trust with some good writing and strong work ethic. I remember the first time I had to convince one of the company's top executives -- her boss -- to take my advice about a press release. He was not easily convinced about my strategy and it was an early "make or break" moment in our relationship. My mentor took the time to listen to me, advise me on the best way to present myself and make my case to him, and she even put herself in my corner by giving her support.

A mentor's counsel can run from the simple advice about how to edit your latest speech -- "When in doubt, cut your first paragraph and get to the point." -- to the subtle advice on etiquette and corporate culture -- "Let the big executives get on the corporate jet first and then you get on, go to the back of the plane and stay quiet." It's those memorable and meaningful lessons that can make a huge difference in your career -- or at least help you avoid some embarrassing moments.

Candor

The best mentors have the ability to tell you the things others won't.  They care enough to be critics and to provide a candid view of what you need to know.

When I was still relatively young in my career, I was having trouble relating to a peer in our group, something I hadn't run into before. There was friction and tension between us and I just couldn't understand it. My mentor broke it to me, "the naive corporate kid": "Look, not everyone is going to like you, Bill. Not everyone wants to be your friend.  And not everyone is going to be happy about you doing a good job. That's not how it always works.  Figure it out. Deal with it."

Another time, I had decided to buy an electric razor and stop shaving with a blade (this was before today's stubble beards had become fashionable). After a few days, my mentor noticed a bit more of a five o'clock shadow, and she asked me, "What are you doing?" I told her I had gotten a new electric razor, blah, blah, blah. In her direct and subtle style, she said, "Yeah? Well it's not working.  Lose the razor and go shave."  Not everyone will be that candid with you.  Maybe just your mother -- and a good mentor.

Confidence

 And, the last thing a mentor gives you is confidence. They are your greatest champions. They know your strengths -- and weaknesses -- and they still believe in you.

There are times in your career when you might feel like you're not ready for the next job or jump up the career ladder. Or, you run into a boss or situation that turns out not to be the right fit. It's easy to have self-doubt in those situations. You wonder if you are out of your depth. When I was in one of those doldrums, I remember a mentor of mine calling me, giving me a pep talk and she said, 'Whatever you do, don't lose your confidence..." It was like she knew what I needed to hear.

It's at those times that the mentors who know you best can be your rock. They have counseled you over the years and seen you grow and perform. They have spoken candidly with you about where you needed to develop, and they have seen you change. They know your potential, your heart and your talent.  They have all the confidence in the world in you, even when you are doubting yourself.

I've been fortunate to have terrific mentors throughout my career who have helped me on my path. I hope I have thanked them and they know what they have meant to me. And as I get along in my career, I try to share with some other young "corporate kids" the counsel, candor and confidence they have so generously given me.

Coaching -- The greatest "hassle" you'll ever enjoy

"I just don't have the time." ... "There are plenty of parents who are more qualified than me." ... "Who needs all that extra hassle with practices, games and drama."

I said all of that when it came time to consider coaching my daughter's basketball team three years ago. Life and work were hectic.  I loved playing basketball, but had never really coached a team. And, there are always potential headaches and tension around bad calls, playing time, etc.

The truth is ... coaching Emma and her friends was the greatest "hassle" I ever enjoyed. As their 8th grade season ends this week, I reflected back on coaching the last three years and couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic.

A Great Experience

First, I was fortunate to have the opportunity to coach when the spot opened up three years ago. Not every parent has that chance. I was also incredibly lucky to work with a head coach and fellow father who was dedicated, experienced and good-hearted. We made it work.

It was very satisfying and rewarding to teach a game that I had been playing for 40 years.  It brought back so many memories and lessons about basketball and teamwork that I learned on the courts and gyms of my youth.

The girls were enthusiastic, respectful and upbeat. They gave the loudest cheers in the gym, "1-2-3-Assumption."  Always quick with a "thank you, Mr. Price" or a shocked look when they may have fouled the other team.

We never won more than a handful of games in a season, but our girls developed skills, had fun and learned how to play the game. To be honest, the other schools and teams were simply better. Over the years, we learned to savor the small victories -- a terrific pass, a made shot, a defensive stand and fighting to the end. I look back and see the progress each girl made, growing as players, as teammates and as young women, and I am so proud of them all.

Five Reasons to Coach Your Kids

For those parents who may be struggling with the decision to coach their kids, I would offer these benefits that you should never sell short:.

1. Show them "Coach," not "Dad" -- My daughter Emma got to see me in a very different light as Coach, not Dad -- even if just for a few hours a week. At home, I am the one hounding her about cleaning her room,... taking away her phone when she hasn't done her homework,... working on my computer at all odd hours of the night or weekend. At the gym, I was fun. Making jokes, running drills and smiling. Emma and I would tease each other, share laughs and have a special place where we could relate to each other in a whole different way.

2. Share Your Passion -- I love basketball! I have been playing since I was a little kid, and I still play today in regular pick-up games with friends. My kids knew how much I loved the game, but until they started playing it was hard for them to understand why. Emma and Tess both play now. They know why people get excited about a great play or the swish of a jumper. They appreciate all the hours of practice that go into improving your skills. When I drove Tess to her game a few weeks ago, she was telling me all about the defensive scheme they were being taught by her coach. I could hear her starting to grasp the game and have a passion for how the parts can come together when a team is working well.

3. Keep Fit and Have Fun --  As a coach, I loved practice. I didn't want to be passively barking orders from the sidelines or giving long lectures.  I was running around the court. Dribbling. Shooting. Showing them defensive stances. It was a workout and kept me energized. I had to stay in better shape, so I didn't embarrass myself racing up court -- or collapse during our defensive drill to Cotton-Eyed Joe. I also had so much fun seeing the pleased and proud look on their faces when they would make a steal, hit a shot and win a game.  They always made me chuckle and smile in their own goofy, girly ways.

4. Meet their Friends -- It's always been hard for parents to get a glimpse into their kids lives and know their friends. When I was a kid in Jersey City, your friends were all in the neighborhood and you called the house or rang the doorbell to ask if "Jimmy could come out to play." Nowadays, the only people who call my home phone are my parents and telemarketers. It's harder to know who your kids are spending time with and what is going on in their lives. Spending a few hours with Emma and her friends every week gave me a glimpse into their world, a better perspective on what mattered to them, and a greater appreciation for their problems and concerns. I would always ask them what they thought was working in practice ... what did they like ... what did we need to work on. I think they were surprised that I asked what they thought and also that I listened.

5. Precious Time -- The greatest regret most parents have is, "I wish I could spend more time with my kids." Well, if you're lucky enough to coach their teams, you get that time commitment. You have the drive time to games, weekly practices, pizza party celebrations, etc. You also have a common interest and topic that you can talk about -- something that isn't schoolwork or why they torture their sister.

Hassles Can Be Treasures Once Unwrapped

Emma will be moving onto high school next year and probably won't be playing basketball.  Tess has a great, committed set of dads coaching her 6th grade team already.  And, Will is still young and a wild card, not sure if sports are for him. My coaching run may be over... but the memories and bonds over basketball will never end -- not for me and I hope not for them either. Emma and her friends taught me a lot about coaching, parenting and "hassles" that are truly treasures once unwrapped.

New Year's Resolutions -- More or Less

New Year's Eve and thoughts turn to new beginnings, resolutions and how to improve your life.

There are all the things you want to do more of: more exercise, more reading, more learning, or more time with loved ones. There are also the things that we want to do less of: less junk food, less cursing, or less time working.
 

The more or less of New Year's resolutions are all well-intentioned, but the truth is we all just want to find happiness. That's the best resolution we can make.

I recently listened to a TED talk by Robert Waldinger and he reported on the results of a long-term Harvard Study on Adult Development, which has run for 75 years. What was their big finding about what makes a good life? How do people find happiness? It's all about having good relationships. "Good relationships keep us happier and healthier," says Waldinger. Not money. Not power. Not privilege.

So, here are a few of my resolutions for building better relationships in 2016:

• Assume people's best intentions. It's hard in today's day and age not to be cynical or suspicious. It's easy to believe someone else is out to get us or acting selfishly. But, it is certainly easier to build relationships when you believe people are generous, caring and acting with the best of intentions.

• Take-five. Many things that I say could be more thoughtfully presented or better received if I would only take a moment to calm down and think. A quick ten-count (okay, maybe 5) before I let fly with a sarcastic, biting quip or a screaming tirade. A few more thoughtful pauses and reflections can go a long way to building relationships - or not damaging the ones you already have.
• Two ears, one mouth. The old saying is "You have two ears and one mouth, you should use them in that proportion." Relationships are about listening to others.  Genuinely listening. Actively listening. 'Nuff said.
• Kids in the kitchen. Know what a real problem and issue is.  Think of it like cooking with kids in the kitchen.  If they aren't burning down the house or playing with knives, then an inedible snack or a little mess (or even a major clean-up) is not the end of the world. Don't cause friction in your relationships unnecessarily.
• Give till it hurts. A good relationship is one where you get even more satisfaction from what you can give, than from what you receive. Taking a burden from a friend in need. Listening to someone else's worries. Giving up time you may not have to spend it with your child. A little bit of sacrifice and selflessness is the foundation of any strong relationship.

So as we turn to a new year and think about resolutions, do a little "more," do a little "less," but focus on your relationships. Science says you'll be happy that you did.  

R.I.P. Telephone Conversation

When was the last time you had a real conversation on the telephone?

I don't mean the last time you picked up that randomly dialed marketing call and felt like taking a 10-minute survey to see if you could really win a trip to the Bahamas.

I don't mean the last time you took a polite call from a fundraiser, and you didn't want to be rude, so you listened... and listened ... and listened ... until you agreed to some kind of pledge.

I don't mean the weekly call to your parents to hear the latest on their health issues, their house problems and the latest obituaries in The Jersey Journal.

And, I don't mean the five-minute call to your sister to commiserate about the weekly call to your parents about their health issues, their house problems, etc.  That doesn't count.

I mean a real bona fide conversation on the phone. A "Gee...I've been thinking about Joe/Janet...I wonder how they are doing...I should give them a call" conversation. The kind where you might actually sit down in a comfortable chair and your sole activity is making that call and having a -- conversation.  Who does that any more?

The telephone is dead and technology has ruined the art of conversation.

Talking at Each Other, Not With Each Other

Much has been studied about the impact technology is having on conversations and how we interact with each other. Sherry Turkle, a professor in Science, Technology and Society at M.I.T. and the author of 'Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age," has studied this phenomenon for 15 years. Her conclusion is not that we aren't talking any more.  We are "talking" all the time in texts, emails, etc., but we are talking at each other, not with each other. Fascinating research that you can read more about here, here and here.

Where I notice it most is in the death of the telephone conversation. My thirteen year-old daughter Emma has a cell phone, or should I say a smart phone. She texts.  Watches videos. Snaps photos for Instagram. I am certain that I am the only one who knows her phone number and has ever actually called her (even her mother only texts her).

When I take Emma's phone away for a few days, she is incapable of communicating with her friends. "Dad, can I have my phone back? I need to find out something for homework." When I suggest that she actually use our house phone to "call" her friend about the night's homework you would think I had suggested she suggest she send a letter via Pony Express. "I can't do that!"

A Nervous Rite of Passage 

I used to call my friends' houses all the time. It was an adventure and an art form.  I can still see the AT&T TrimLine phone hanging on the kitchen wall. You had to stretch and unwind the phone cord into the room next to the kitchen and close the door for privacy. Two minutes later you were yelling at your parents for picking up on another line. The phone was the communications hub of a house.

You never knew who would actually answer the phone when you called a friend's house.  You actually had to introduce yourself to someone, show some manners, maybe even have some brief chit chat with an adult. My friend Karen came from a big family, and in high school we talked on the phone all the time (Well, I called her all the time, but that's another story). As a result of those calls, I got to know her parents and her whole family after four years of high school and they got to know me.

My kids will never know the teenage torture of "calling a girl."  A nervous rite of passage when I grew up. There was the time you spent thinking about what you would say ... why were you calling? Was there some point to the call ... homework, gossip, weekend plans? There was the preparation for whomever might answer the call.  Her father... mother... brother.  It could take a whole night just to work up the courage to call a girl -- only to get her father on the other end who might tell you sternly that she was sleeping, in the shower or out with her friends.  Ugh!

And, do you remember how long people would talk on the phone. In the days before "call waiting," teens actually had to fight over phone time with their siblings and their parents, or be told, "You've been on the phone for an hour, Mary Jane.  Hang up and do your homework."

Reach Out and Touch Someone

The truth is my kids don't really know how to "use" a telephone or what it is really for.  They exchange information -- or moronic jokes - in short bursts of texting, not conversations. They use mini-computers called smart phones -- they're not really phones. The telephone has become a relic for direct marketing calls, political campaigns and confirming dentist appointments.

I may be in the minority, but I still get excited when the phone rings, actually rings.  Do you remember those AT&T Reach Out and Touch Someone commercials?

I always enjoy the mystery of who might be on the other end (damn Caller ID ruined that). And, on less hectic days, I enjoy the time to sit down, talk and catch up with friends. That happens a lot less often nowadays.

This week, maybe I'll "go retro," pick up the phone, and call an old friend just to talk. Wouldn't that be nice?

Now, where is Karen's phone number? I am sure I must have it somewhere in my smart phone.  :)

Farewell, sweet Sadie

We said good bye to our sweet girl, Sadie, today. She was a precious dog who could have inspired Marley & Me with her antics (watch here)... who was a walking medical miracle ... and who endearingly captured our family's heart for nearly 13 years.

Sadie at rest

We rescued Sadie in February 2003 with the help of Aunt Mary's Dog House, and I can still see her romping in the living room of our old house the first day we met this energetic pup, and knocking down baby Emma. She was a beautiful husky mix with a soft white coat, black and brown markings on her face, one blue eye and one brown.  There were no two Sadies -- on so many levels, she was unique.  Let me explain.

What the heck is separation anxiety?

As with most rescue dogs, you often wonder, "How did this sweet dog wind up on the street? Who would have let her go?"

It didn't take long for my wife and I to realize what might have happened with Sadie.  While sweet and lovable, she had severe -- really severe -- separation anxiety and destructive behavioral issues.  Leave her alone, and watch out.

We left her in a pet crate for about 20 minutes one time and re-entered the house to find she had made a Houdini-like escape from the locked crate after drenching the floor with saliva and chewing on a nearby end table. Once out, she tore about three feet of linoleum off the basement floor and shredded the carpet on  the stairs trying to find us. She was inconsolable when left alone and went into a frenzy trying to find her family.

She would also go berserk if she was left alone outside in the yard, or whenever people walking dogs passed by our house.  She devoured every window sill facing the street and chewed the spindles on the deck gate that was trying to keep her in the yard.

After a few weeks of discovering Sadie's condition, we found a behavioral specialist in Pennsylvania, whom we thought could help. We were desperate and I remember feeling so relieved when the doctor told us how severe Sadie's anxiety was. It was just therapeutic to speak with someone who understood what we were dealing with and could explain it. The doctor put her on a mix of medications that would help moderate -- though never totally solve -- her behavioral issues.

Sadie in her devilish prime

Oh, the stories that Sadie has provided over the years (see my earlier post on a runaway stroller escapade):

• One spring, we arrived at my in-law's house in Ohio just as their contractor was putting the finishing touches on a brand new deck. They were so pleased. Within two hours of us getting there, however, someone "left" Sadie outside when some other guests arrived and in a matter of 15 minutes she had devoured ten of the wooden spindles on the brand new deck.  When we continued to visit Ohio over the years, I just brought a checkbook to cover Sadie damage.
  
• The drive to Ohio was also filled with Sadie antics. It wasn't long before we realized we couldn't stop at the usual highway rest stops with all the grass and amenities for dogs. Sadie would go crazy trying to get to meet the other dogs. Not in a sweet, "oh, isn't she cute" way.  More in a "mad dog, Tazmanian devil, frothing at the mouth" way. She did a backflip once trying to slip out of her leash. She also crawled under our minivan once to find a friend, who went yelping back to his owner. She just wanted friends.
  
• When we moved to a new house, we apparently put a bed too close to one of the front windows on the second floor. Sadie had been on "watch," perching on the bed and looking out the window when she saw a neighbor walking her dog. She started barking like crazy, knocked the screen out of the window, and was about half way out the window when our neighbor rang the doorbell to tell my wife her crazy dog was about to jump out the window.
  



"Hello, neighbor."

• On too many occasions to count, Sadie would escape from the house and wander through our suburban neighborhood. She became quite well-known amongst our Butterworth neighbors.  She would gleefully make the rounds visiting neighbor's yards and dogs.  I could rarely catch her because she usually bolted through the woods and into the yards.  I would roam the streets with a piece of cheese and a leash, getting clues from helpful neighborhood kids, or listen for barking dogs that she had surprised with a visit.  She eventually took pity on me and either came home or found me and "let" me catch her. One time during a winter snowstorm, she collapsed in the middle of the road because the rock salt was all in her paws and she could barely walk.  I got to carry my 50 pound pup home in three feet of snow.  She was happy to see me that time.

The gentle protector

Sadie was also quite a gentle protector. She must have been abused in her past because she would bark at any large man who came into the house and watch out for our kids. Sadie knew my father her whole life, but whenever he came in she would incessantly bark at him until he sat down somewhere. Then, she would watch him quietly or until she would walk up to him for some rubbing behind her ears (she loved those rubs).

Ever watchful

In all her years, as crazy as she was, she never bit anyone. And to be honest, after 10 or 15 minutes of her continuous barking at a visitor, you kind of wished she would've just bitten them just to shut her mouth and stop the barking (just kidding).

The nine lives of Sadie

Sadie also was a bit of a medical miracle dog. Besides her severe anxiety issues, she dealt with slipped disks in her neck and back; a heart murmur that disappeared after a year; a strep infection which made her brain swell; ulcerated corneas; pancreatitis, liver problems; inexplicable tremors and shakes (which also came and went for no reason); a banana-yellow, wrapped up tail that she had chewed on; glaucoma, which led to terrible pain, daily medications and blindness in one of her eyes. We should have a wing named after her at the veterinary hospital.

We thought we were going to lose her several times in the past, but she always rebounded. This week,her spirit was still willing, but weakened, and her resilient body finally failed her.

Rest peacefully, my sweet Sadie 

Over the years Sadie's destructive side faded with age and she mellowed quite a bit.  She became more of a sweet old lady. She loved walks and would start each one with youthful energy and enthusiasm, but the walks became a lot shorter the last few years as she aged.

Gus and Sadie

She would still play around with her more youthful mates -- the friends she had been chasing and looking for all those years in the rest stops. Gus, my brother in-law's weimeraner, towered  over Sadie and could've broken her in half with one twist, but they became best pals. This year, even Gus saw how frail she was getting and he somehow intuitively knew how far to push her.  I'll remember their playful wrestling matches
forever.

It's sad to think she won't be here next week when I come home from work.  Even on her most weary days, she would get up and greet me with a tail wag and a happy look (many days she was the only one who was happy to see me). I could always count on Sadie.

I hope she's resting now -- or running after some other dogs up in heaven.  The truth is that tonight, it will be me who feels the sadness and anxiety of my separation from her. Rest peacefully, sweet Sadie.  We will miss you and always love you.