Another Mile Marker

 "...Wind

In my hair

Shifting and drifting

Mechanical music

Adrenaline surge..."

–Rush, Red Barchetta

When I turned 16, I couldn't wait to drive. The freedom of it. Driving to and from school. Cruising the main strip. Cranking up the rock and roll and speeding down a country road. I knew it was a much different mode of transportation than riding a bike or walking, always being a passenger up until then, but there was something transformative about driving myself and others around.

I didn't understand the full responsibility of driving until many years after I got my driver's license. That makes sense; most kids don't fully grasp the potential dangers of driving around a 4,000-pound machine moving at 60+ mph. Or even 10 mph. 

I couldn't wait. Back when I was in high school, driver's training was still offered as a class, complete with all the bloody accident videos explaining the dangers of driving under the influence. A scared-straight approach, which at the time, worked for me. At least until after high school. 

But not every kid is excited to drive when they turn 16. And that's okay. Our oldest Beatrice was like that, thinking about driving, but not ready to do it just yet. Instead, taking the city bus sometimes or riding my e-bike that I never ride. She went from no interest in driving to some interest to studying and studying for her driver's permit.

And then after one speed bump:

"Dad, I passed! I got my permit!"

That call I received on Beatrice's way home from the DMV with Mom. Since then, we've scheduled her driver's training, which is not offered through high school today, and we have to pay for. We've also been taking her driving so she can get her permit hours in so she can take her driver's license test this summer.

Each drive Beatrice gets a little more comfortable and confident, but it's still overwhelming when you're learning. As parents, we live our past coming of age over and over again, from childhood to teen-land, offering guidance and advice along the way based on our own lessons learned. Learning to drive is one of those we remember well. 

The morning my mom took me to get to take my driving test for my license, I had a butterfly convention rocking my stomach. In the blink of an eye, it was over, and I had passed. My mom proceeded to drive us back home again. I asked her why, since I thought she was going to drop me off at school, and she answered, "Because you're going to drive yourself to school today." That was something I'll never forget.

We're helping Beatrice learn to drive now that she has her permit, and soon her sibling Bryce will be ready to go (and who wants to drive yesterday). Driving with "fussy" Dad is more stressful than "calm" Mom, but we know that Beatrice appreciates all the help from both of us. We look forward to both Beatrice and Bryce driving themselves around, and us, but we don't look forward to our insurance rates increasing dramatically. 

Another mile marker in our lives is here, and there's no looking back, except when checking your mirrors, kids. Don't ever forget that part.

All the Friendship in Between, with Love

The last two times I heard from Robby were phone-tag voicemails. There were a lot of those over the decades of our friendship. I'd call him. He'd call me back. He'd call me. I'd call him back. Back and forth until we'd connect, usually every two weeks. 

I saved the last two voicemails from him. I didn't intend to, but every time I wanted to delete them, I just couldn't. I know I'm not the only person to do that, wanting to hear the voice of someone you loved who's no longer there. 

The last time I talked with Robby was right after he turned 59, and it was the last weekend our mutual longtime friends hung out with him. After than we played phone tag until two days before he passed. 

"Hey, my brother, it's Robby. I don't know what time it is but I am calling to catch up I feel like I cut you off the other day when we were talking because Mary called and I was expecting her call and blah blah blah blah blah. Anyway, I would like to talk to you, so when you get a chance if you could call me back that be great. Love you. Bye-bye."

Robby always had old friends calling him, playing phone tag with him, so it was no wonder he wanted to take her call, with "her" being the operative word. No offense taken here. Robby loved the ladies. 

"Hey, man, it's Robby trying to get back to you. We're playing some phone tag so I'll be around. Love you, man. Bye-bye."

That was the last voicemail, just like the thousands before it. Always ending in "love you", something we never had a problem sharing with each other. Who says men can't be close friends and say that they love each other. Not me and my friends, that's for sure. 

I've written about parenting, my wife, my children, growing up, and my life perspectives here since 2007. Another big part of my writing has been about my friends and friendship and the impact they've had on my life. All the posts linked below are a testament to those friends, those friendships, and all that love (and laughter), forever anchored to our friend Robby. The friendships and love that helped shape me as a man, a husband, a father, and being a better human. 

Robby would've turned 60 today. I'm so grateful we had him in our lives. Here's to the first and the last voicemail, and all the friendship in between, with love. Happy Birthday, Brother. 

• A Spirit Breaking Free
• Because There's Always A Promise
• A Longing for Loving Connection
• What Happens Next
• Superman's Love Letter
• Men of An Influencer Age
• Making a Dent
• A Long-Term Well-Being Win
• Men of a Stand-up Age
• Men of a Vulnerable Age
• Able-Bodied Grateful
• Men of Our Present Age
• The #MeToo Guys
• Men of a Women's Age
• Men of a Consequential Age
• Like Men Knowingly Bound to Their Future
• Because That's How It Works With The Guys That Work
• Big Heart Love to My Class of 1984
• Men of An Unremarkable Age
• Being What Happens Next
• Retro K: A treasure trove of golden memories friendship has forged

My Now Is Never Going Back Again

 "...Been down one time
Been down two time
Mmm

I'm never going back again..."

–Fleetwood Mac, Never Going Back Again

"Dad, this is my new favorite Fleetwood Mac song," Bryce said. Both our kids love music, especially our youngest, Bryce. In 2025, they started listening to Fleetwood Mac and fell in love with the Rumors album, an album that's now over 48 years old.  

We listened to it the other night while my family played a game and I fixed dinner, and I just couldn't get it out of my head. My wife Amy hates when that happens, but I don't mind it as much because certain lyrics will rattle around in my brain dislodging memories and helping me reframe personal insights. Song lyrics, poems, favorite prose passages -- all are my soul's food for thought.

This time of year there are those who make New Year's resolutions. Goals for the year. Life changes to make. Behaviors to modify. Bad habits to end and better ones to begin. I remember when my mom used to ask us to share our new year resolutions and to try and articulate the why of them. But I don't remember us ever checking in on our progress throughout the year, or reviewing the old resolutions when we made new ones in yet another new year.

We like to think of a new year as a fresh start, but the reality is, the only fresh start that matters is the now. There's a Rush song called Ceiling Unlimited with the lyrics "changes never end, never end, winding like an endless river, the time is now again" (written by one of my favorite writers, Neal Peart). Time is always now again. The past has happened and the future holds endless potential, but it's the now again where impactful change can be made, should be made, is only made. No matter if that's January 1 or June 30. 

How many times in my life did I make resolutions I never kept? Too many to count. Past trauma, addiction, selfishness, laziness, being biologically hardwired to make self-destructive decisions, feeling like I can do whatever I want when I want -- all things that can fill us with uncomfortable past reflections as we long for better futures. 

That doesn't mean there weren't good times and that real positive changes didn't occur. For me, there were and they did. In all my learning and healing over the years, and my recent years of regular meditation, personal discovery and growth is contingent on understanding and pivoting on past failure. But if you've acquiesced to the hardwiring of making self-destructive decisions with very little redemptive qualities, then you've lost the positive possibility of now. Something that's celebrated in mainstream literature, cinema, and television today. We've stopped letting go. Instead, we keep letting it rot and say we didn't have a choice.

However, we always have a choice. Even those with addiction problems know there's always a choice, a choice to not choose the destructive thing -- the drinking, smoking, gambling, etc. And that can lead to more choices of finding the support needed to sustain the healing. 

Making positive, mindful choices and letting go of what no longer serves us in the now benefits our own personal growth, and the wellbeing of others, and it isn't new. It's the spiritual backbone of religions and faiths going back thousands of years. 

For me, life used to be one step forward and two steps back. It seemed easier that way, like my fate was a weight of conflicting circumstances I had no control over, so damn the consequences of choice. Now, no matter what happens, it will always be one step forward, an ongoing resolution of living wellness. I especially thank my wife for instilling this in me and our children. My now is never going back again. 

A Spirit Breaking Free

"...the measure of the moment
in a difference of degree
just one little victory
A spirit breaking free..."

–Rush, One Little Victory

In less than two weeks he would've turned 60. We talked about that a lot in the last few years of his life. He looked forward to it, because although living each year beyond 50 was harder, it was a win, nonetheless. For decades he told me he always said he wanted to see what happened next, wanted to be a part of what happened next. And for the most part he did. And was. 

The last time we were all together was right after he turned 59, way back in January. The four of us and Robby, celebrating our over four decades of friendship, and what now feels like a lifetime ago. Because at our age, another year of life can be a lifetime when it's lived well and full. The cosmic joke is that you blink and life races by; your little kids are now teens; your teen friends are now 60. But I'd argue that my dear friends and I, including Robby, have always lived well and full, even when it didn't feel that way. And I've had plenty of feeling that way, especially in my younger years. 

Those younger years are but bittersweet memories now. Bittersweet, building-block years of lessons learned and of letting go. Of embracing each moment since and living it as if it was my last. Of being grateful for my life, my wife, my children, my family, and my friends. 

Last January was a lifetime ago. Since Robby passed away in February, the four of us -- Rob, Greg, Craig, and me -- have seen each other more than in previous years, including Robby's celebration of life, and we're grateful for every visit. Two of us turned 60 and we all celebrated together. Robby would've wanted it that way. He loved having us all together, even when he'd obsessively complain about our past transgressions when we were all together. 

I miss our laughter. I miss our catch phrases and jokes. I miss our high school reminiscing. I even miss his obsessive complaining about our past transgressions. We talked regularly on the phone over the years since we only saw each other once or twice a year. His heart broke for me when my first marriage ended. It broke for me when I had a falling out with another longtime friend of ours. He was happy for me when I finished college. When I finally overcame my darkness. When I met my wife Amy and when we had our two children. And he loved the fact that I learned how to drum when I was 55. 

Paralyzed from a swimming accident our senior year in high school, he became a talented artist over the years. But it got harder for him to draw and paint as his body atrophied, his strength dissipated, and his chronic neurological pain increased. He also struggled with meds. The last two years of his life were difficult for him, and he was in and out of the hospital with broken bones and infections. We're grateful that his sister Diana kept us informed of his health. 

My heart broke for Robby every time we talked. He would've given anything to be able to walk again, to live an able-bodied life like the rest of us. But Robby lived as full of a life he that he could -- happily, and full of warmth, humor, sincerity, and love. His sister was right: "He lived the biggest life anyone in his situation could have. Robby had a golden glow that I’m sure still radiates from him wherever he is."

He talked a lot about getting back to his art. The last five years of his life he'd bring it up in nearly every phone call and I encouraged him to get back to it. Both our children are artists, and when we all visited Robby a few years ago, they were blown away by his artwork (and all his comics and his amazing superhero figurine collection).

After Robby died, his sister shared a picture with us that he had drawn the day before he passed. To me, it expressed the physical pain he'd experienced over the years. But it also embodied a spirit breaking free.

Blessings to you, my friend. We'll celebrate your 60th and your spirit come 2026. 

The Abundance Mindset

The Alice in Wonderland ride at Disneyland is one of our favorites. When our kids were little, though, it was a little scary for them, but eventually they came to love it. Our oldest Beatrice especially. 

Although Disney has a reputation of sanitizing classic stories, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland included, the silliness and absurdity of Wonderland is still captured in the Disney animated movie and the ride. The novel by Lewis Carroll was about the transition from the innocence of childhood to the confusing complexities and contradictions of adulthood. It explored an absurd dream world that often mirrored anxieties about growing up and societal rules. Alice ultimately represents the sensible individual navigating absurdity. 

Funny how that works. That's how I felt growing up. That's how I feel now. Yes, I created my own anxious absurdity over the years from young adulthood to my early 30's that I struggled to overcome at times. I always thought the universe conspired against me; that God conspired against me. I grew up in scarcity, believing that everything was limited and out of my reach.

But thanks to my own mindful awakening, and my wife Amy's spiritual guidance, I realized the universe is nothing but abundance. That there's nothing but endless potential, resources, love, and opportunities that exist for everyone. That even with the chaotic and dangerous societal absurdity everywhere today, we can navigate it, push back on it, thrive in it, let it go, and express gratitude for the choices we make every day. 

We impart the abundance mindset on our two teens regularly, at least Amy does more consistently, and that's helped them with their own anxieties about growing up. I still trip periodically over my scarcity past and revert, causing me undue angst and stress. I recognize it even as I'm doing it, which is why I can thankfully rebound quickly. Both Amy and I grew up with very little and we're grateful today for what we have today and what we can provide to our children. We also recognize our privilege, too, knowing there are many marginalized families that struggle to make ends meet in our community. 

Which was why we were happy to attend the Mad Hatters Ball — Raíces y Cariño Gala, a fundraiser for the organization that helps local lower-income families experience health, safety, and joy in our community. It was fun dressing up in the "Alice in Wonderland" theme, play silly games, and listen to some amazing young people sing, all for a great local cause. 

This holiday season, avoid the rabbit holes, embody the abundance mindset, and pay it forward however you can. Blessings to you and yours this holiday season. 

Digging Those Christmas Beats

Five years ago, I started playing the drums. Something I had wanted to do for decades I finally did. It's been amazing. It's been challenging. It's fired synapses in my brain I never knew I had. And most importantly, it's been fun. 

Since then, I usually play for at least one hour five to six days a week, before or after dinner, when I'm not traveling for work. I've had lessons, used online programs, and have a regular practice regimen. I've also learned over 180 songs I've loved over the years. Mostly ground in rock and roll but also including pop, rhythm and blues, soul, and even contemporary country. I get to channel amazing drummers that I aspire to play as proficiently as they do someday. 

The first two years I was lucky to get through and learn one to two minutes of a song, but then I finally improved enough to get through entire songs. Not note for note; I do my best to hit 80%+ of a song and record it. On average it takes two to three hours for me to learn a song, and once I record it, I move on to another one.

The past three Christmases I've learned various holiday songs, but this Christmas, I asked my wife Amy and our kids Beatrice and Bryce if there was a song they wanted me to learn to play. 

Beatrice didn't have to think about it, she just immediately said, "You know the song 'Do They Know It's Christmas?' -- that's the one I want. Who's it by again?"

"Band Aid," I said. "It was one of the super-group awareness and fundraiser songs like 'We Are The World'. Lots of MTV 'first wave' and rock and pop artists of the 1980's."

"Cool," she said. 

It's great because Beatrice is a big retro-80's-sound fan and likes bands like Duran Duran and others. I recently learned Hungry Like the Wolf and she loved it. 

The Band Aid song was a perfect choice for our caring, empathic kid who loves Christmastime and can't wait for us to decorate every year.

"...And in our world of plenty we can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world at Christmas time..."

And oh my, Phil Collins played the drums on this. I had totally forgotten about that. So much fun to play Do They Know It's Christmas?. 

Bryce was also quick to select and said, "Play The Waitresses song 'Christmas Wrappings'. That's one of my favorite ones."

"You got it," I said.

What a perfect choice for Bryce, our sometimes aloof, and always "punk rock", yet super sweet and loving kid who also loves Christmastime, even when they play it down. 

"...Bah Humbug, now that's too strong!
'Cause it is my favorite holiday..."

Billy Ficca was the original drummer on the song. So much fun to play Christmas Wrappings.

For Amy, it was a little harder, just because there are so many holiday songs we both love. One of her favorite bands is Train, and so last year one of the songs I learned was their rendition of This Christmas. 

Instead, she went more traditional, "How about, 'We Need a Little Christmas'?" 

"Which one?" I asked. I looked up some of the versions. "Johnny Mathis?"

"Yes," said. "That one."

What a perfect choice for Amy, always encouraging smiles and cheer throughout the year. Beatrice also likes all the old-school traditional singers and Christmas songs. There's no drummer credited to this song that I could find, but I just started learning We Need a Little Christmas and the big band sound is also fun to play. 

"...For we need a little music, need a little laughter
Need a little singing ringing through the rafter
And we need a little snappy, happy ever after
We need a little Christmas now..."

And there you have it. I'm fulfilling our family Christmas song requests, I keep learning from fantastic drummers, and we're all digging those Christmas beats. I hope you are, too. 

The Truth of Consent Is the Universal Truth

One of the men in the audience said, "Well, I appreciate what you're saying, but you must remember that your truth isn't my truth, and what's true for everyone isn't true for everyone else."

Then he started a misinformed diatribe about transgender students in locker rooms, as if that would lead to more sexual assault and rape. That then led to an uproar from the audience calling him ignorant and defending the student speaker, who was only sharing her experience with being sexually assaulted when she was 14. Most of us in the room were grateful for her message of better sexual education classes in middle school and high school, as well as starting lessons around consent and boundary setting earlier in elementary school.

This was one of the sessions I attended at this year's California School Board Association (CSBA) Conference. I've attended it annually for the past three years since I've been a school board trustee. Each year it's been a powerful learning and networking opportunity for me and the over 5,000 other trustees across California who attend.

I went to the high school student's session, who's now 18 years old, because I wanted to hear a young person's perspective about the dangers of sexual assault and lack of consent and boundary setting skills. Her sexual assault at age 14 nearly destroyed her, but she survived and persevered and is now a powerful young advocate with an Instagram movement called Respect4Consent and a petition to introduce policy to protect students against sexual assault: The Safe & Documented: Survivor Rights and Protection Policy.

Instead of staying and hearing everyone's response to his statement, the misinformed man left in a hurry, blaming us all for his need to flee. That was followed by a couple of well-meaning men still steeped in patriarchy claiming that men need to protect women. That's something I was brought up to believe as well, but today I have a much improved anti-misogynistic perspective about social, emotional, and physical safety skills for everyone thanks to my wife, my children, and important organizations like Kidpower (in full transparency, my wife works there). 

The high school speaker at the conference shared important school health policy considerations that go a lot farther than "abstinence-only" school programs that always fall short. Abstinence may be a path to prevent sexual mishaps and misconduct, but it omits consent entirely. She posited that early consent education normalizes respect and body autonomy for all students, and my wife and I couldn't agree more.

We've been talking with our own children about these things since they were in elementary school. Thankfully they've had solid sex education courses provided by our school district along with school-based values programs from Second Step. 

And of course, they've been immersed in Kidpower since they were little. They may deny they use what they've learned over the years, but we see them put it into practice when necessary. Thank goodness. This is important because my wife and I didn't have the same curriculum that our kids have today, nor any safety skills training back in our day. 

Here's a simple boundaries and consent safety checklist from Kidpower (applicable to kids, teens, and adults).

Touch, attention, and games for play, affection, and fun should be:

• Okay with each person
• Safe for feelings and for bodies
• Allowed by the adults in charge (if they're kids and teens)

And they should never be a secret. So, when it comes to our teens being equipped to identify coercion or assault to protect themselves, the truth of consent is the universal truth. No means no. Please stop means please stop. The end.