Raising children who are better people than you are

I still read the police log in my old “hometown” newspaper. It was a habit to scan the section just to make sure my son’s name was not in it. The reason? Because I had once appeared in my own hometown’s police log, and as they say, the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree…

In 1970 I celebrated my 18th birthday with my coworkers from the Trojan Seed Corn plant where I had a summer job. One fellow, Jim, was in his early 20s and bought a case of beer which four of us drank as he drove us around town. When the beer was gone, Jim parked in an alley behind a bar and, obviously drunk, tried to get the bar to sell him more beer. Instead, the bartender called the cops who arrived shortly after, blocking the alley entrance. The problem with drinking on my 18th birthday was that Iowa law required one to be 21 before you could drink booze of any kind so I was ticketed for underage drinking, fined $35 by the Justice of the Peace, and released. I walked back to my truck, still parked at work, and drove home to the farm. Probably still under the influence.

A week later, my dad said that he read about me in the Sac Sun, the weekly town newspaper. Seems my arrest made the police log. He said that from then on, I needed to be home by 10. I replied that I was 18 and didn’t have to follow his rules anymore. He said as long as I was living in his house, I had to follow his rules. I moved out the next day, spending the rest of the summer sleeping in an old house some buddies rented to practice as a rock and roll band. While there was an outhouse, there was no running water, so I took a long dip in a gravel pit after work everyday. I was off to college a few weeks later.

I don’t think fathers should be celebrated on Father’s Day, rather the children they may have helped raise - especially children who turned out to be better people than they themselves are. I am one of those fortunate dads who really doesn't have to skim the police log. My two adult children are:

• Loving and caring
• Emotionally stable
• Physically healthy
• In good relationships
• Wonderful spouses and parents
• Financially independent
• Engaged in rewarding occupations
• Have a sense of adventure
• Still talking to their dad

I suspect most parents would do some things differently had they a “do-over” button for raising children - more time spent, more encouragement in different types of activities, better listening skills, more attention to healthy eating and exercise, etc. But for many of us, our children turned out to be quite wonderful people, despite rather than because, of our efforts.

Dads, celebrate your kids today. I will be.

I like funerals

My first cousin Mike, me, and my second cousin Neal at Great Aunt Ella Bell's funeral in Nemaha, Iowa, May 23, 2014

Yes, it sounds callous to say such a thing, but I really do like funerals. 

They are, of course, a time of great grief for friends and family of the deceased. A time to mourn the passing of one who was loved, admired, or simply held in firm friendship. The funerals of those who die young, die unexpectedly, die accidentally are less than happy events.

But funerals are also a time of joy. On a selfish level, funerals offer me a chance to see people I like but do not see on a regular basis. For some members of my family, a funeral is the only time I see them. Same for colleagues of previous jobs. It's a wonderful time not just to reminisce about the person who just died, but reminisce in general - most often about good times - and get caught up on each others' lives.

Good services, good eulogies, help everyone remember the best of person whose life is being honored. I don't think I ever attended a funeral where I didn't learn something new (and positive) about the guest of honor. The words of my second cousin still move me when, in eulogizing his father, my great-uncle, he stated that his father had never lost his temper with him, never said a harsh word, never yelled - despite deserving it many times. It made me think about my own parenting techniques.

Sadly/happily, I put on my "weddings and funerals" suit* this past week to attend the service of a fellow who worked with me in the school technology department for about 20 years. He was well-liked, well-respected, and over a dozen current and former co-workers attended the ceremony. It was wonderful to hug and say "hi" to these folks I've not interacted with for about seven years. But it was also quite wonderful to hear about the personal side, the family side, of this quiet, competent fellow. I recognize now just what a small slice of the man I knew. Sadly, he died too young. Happily, he died well loved.

Next time you have to put on your funeral clothes, mourn the loss. But remember to find the joy as well.

* I was over dressed. I guess people just don't wear coats and ties anymore to church.

The backpacker's dilemma

The sign above has hung in my kitchen for as long as I can remember. I don't remember how or why I got it, but it has always resonated with me. And never more than when preparing for a backpacking trip.

My younger grandson Miles and I are going to hike the Philmont ranch this July. While the hike itself is only about 55 miles over 12 days, the elevation is high and the temps will probably be warm during the day and cold at night in the mountains of northwest New Mexico. And I will be hiking with teenage boys who have a good deal more strength and stamina than this old man. 

I have found one key to a happy backpacking experience is to balance low weight and campsite comfort. Backpackers run the gamut from ultralight hikers who shave ounces from their packs by cutting the handles off their toothbrushes and taking a razor blade instead of a pocket knife to ambulatory glampers who hump folding chairs and cappuccino makers. I like to think I trend to the lighter side, but I am sure I would get laughed at by both ends of the hiking spectrum.

When looking at backpacking equipment, you quickly find that light weight comes with a high cost. For about every pound you shave from a tent, sleeping bag, or pack, figure adding about $100-$200 to the initial purchase. Hmmmm, is it worth $400 to replace my 3.1-pound bag with a 2.5-pounder? Perhaps if I were hiking the AT or for months at a time, but for 55 miles and less than two weeks? I don't think so.

Still, I will try to keep my "base weight" (everything but food and water) to about 25 pounds, knowing my final weight will be at least ten pounds more than that. Since some of the Philmont camps are dry, we will be carrying quite a lot of water. Each member of our 11 hiker group will also be expected to carry his part of the required shared equipment - tarp, cooking equipment, ropes, first aid kit, etc.

I sometimes project my strategies for lighter weight backpacking to my everyday life as well. Do I travel "light in life, taking only what I need"? Small house, small car, one set of dishes, and only a few pair of shoes. Collected art from my travels and a few family heirlooms, but overall, no more than could fit into a modest sized Uhaul trailer. Pretty good, I thought.

Until I read Nomadland* by Jessica Bruder about how economically challenged people (many my age or older) have figured out how to survive on their monthly $500 Social Security checks by being "house-less." living in campers, vans, and even cars, mostly avoiding formal campgrounds where there is a nightly charge (boondocking.) When I thought previously of the "nomad" lifestyle, I viewed it through primarily a recreational lens. Campers I ran into were - where else - in state and national parks - recreating. I've known one couple who has lived in a big motorhome for years, working remotely. But Bruder examines a whole new culture of those living on the road out of economic necessity.

I know I can fit my hiking needs into a 65L backpack that weighs under 35 pounds. But could I fit all my daily, everyday needs into a small camper trailer or van? I suppose. Though I'd miss my knickknacks, my recliner, and probably get pretty tired of wearing the same few sets of clothes everyday. Happy to travel light in life - I just don't need to take it to the ultra-light extreme.

*Not yet seen the movie which is based on this book.