A Fussy Grateful Hybrid

"Goodness, this car is fussier than anyone in our family," Amy said.

"You mean fussier than Dad?" I said.

Amy laughed. "I didn't say that."

"But it's true," I said. 

Amy laughed again. 

"At least it'll keep us safe with all the warning pings, beeps, and buzzes," I said.

"Sure, but we've got to be able to turn them down," Amy said, fiddling with the new touchscreen dashboard.

Is she talking about the new car or me? I thought.

We hadn't had a new car for nine years. Didn't think we needed a new car after nine years. But our last car of nine years was having transmission issues after hitting over 100K miles. Transmission issues that two dealer trips and three AAMCO trips later gleaned no answers for us. 

It was a 2017 Santa Fe Hyundai. We loved that car. Took our whole family a lot of miles safely for most of those nine years and had really low maintenance overall. At least until the transmission started acting up. For a few years we towed a trailer camper, and while our Santa Fe was technically able to tow the trailer, it probably put excessive strain on the transmission. 

So, it was time to get a new car. After a couple of test drives, we really liked the new Hyundai IONIQ 5 electronic vehicle (EV). The EV hi-tech world we're just now experiencing is a story for another time, and in the meantime, we love it. But it pings, beeps, and buzzes a lot of warnings, all the time.

Watch out for the things in front of you!

Watch out for the things to the sides of you!

Watch out for the things behind you!

Don't forget the passengers in the back seats!

Don't forget the passengers in the front seats!

Don't forget to live your life to the fullest and be grateful for every moment!

Okay, that last one isn't a real car warning, but it is how we roll as the kids say. Not sure the kids say that anymore, though. Our kids don't, but I certainly do.

Amy's fussy new car joke fits me perfectly, however. I'm the "no" dad. The dad who fills up quickly with fussy angst and says:

No, we're not doing that. 

No, I'm not doing that.

No, we aren't going there.

And then more pings, beeps, and buzzes like the new car:

Watch out for the things in front of you!

Watch out for the things to the sides of you!

Watch out for the things behind you!

"Dad's getting fussy again," I can hear my kids say as I write this.

Maybe I am fussier than our new EV. Dang. Well, at least I'm a fussy grateful hybrid. A used one with a lot of miles, but always grateful for every moment. 

Financial Literacy Is Required Reading

I remember riding my bike to work at 5:40 in the morning for my new summer job. I got hired at 15 and a half to work in the produce department of a local grocery store. It was close to where we lived so the bike ride wasn't too bad. Plus, early summertime mornings growing up in Visalia, California, were quite warm, but still the coolest part of the day. I worked a split shift -- I'd work from 6:00 to 10:00 AM and then come back and work from 3:00 to 7:00 PM. Each week that summer I worked 35+ hours, ultimately saving enough for my first car. I worked part-time during school and then again nearly full-time the following summer. 

This is the second summer that our oldest Beatrice has worked nearly full-time as a camp counselor at a summer day camp. Like I did way back then, she rides a bike to work early, around 7:10 each morning, although one big difference is that she rides an electric bike. The electric bike I bought a few years ago that I thought I'd use a lot more but ultimately did not. At least Beatrice is ensuring we're getting our money's worth. She doesn't work a split shift like I did, working straight through to 3:00 PM.

Beatrice is "making bank" as the saying goes and she's saving money, not spending it all. She even has a savings CD for goodness' sake. Her mom Amy and I never did that growing up. We spent it all! Yes, I saved and bought my first car, but that was about it back then. 

Beatrice isn't buying a car anytime soon, but she is going for her driver's permit later this year. When that happens, that'll open a whole new world of car insurance calculus for us. Our insurance will go up at least 30% once she starts driving. Thankfully she's not in a rush to drive, and neither are we, at least until she starts college.

Since Beatrice has been working and making bank, Bryce wants some of that action now, too. But they're only turning 15 this year, and there aren't many jobs they can legally work at that age. The Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk offers jobs for 14+ years old, but neither Beatrice nor Bryce have been interested in that. Bryce loves going thrifting with Amy, so that's of interested once they hit 15 and a half, to work at a thrift store. 

The adulting is here. Financial literacy and fiscal responsibility are practices we've worked to instill in both Beatrice and her sibling Bryce. It started when the bank of Mom and Dad set up payment plans for iPads they purchased, taking part of their allowance each week until the devices were paid off. Allowances that they have actual chores to do to earn. And they do them. Not without parental reminders and cajoling at times, but they get them all done. We also occasionally negotiate the current set of chores for each, which we don't have a problem doing, as long as the sets don't decrease in activities. 

Both kids have mutual fund accounts we started for them, and again, Beatrice has a savings CD. Having their own money to spend is exciting and freeing, especially for Bryce, which is why we're emphasizing savings more emphatically. Something that Mom and Dad didn't do very well at that age. We also don't want them to spend more than they have and get overextended on credit (something that I screwed up in adulting). And now that the world of work is being transformed by continuous economic upheaval, artificial intelligence, and more, financial literacy is required reading in our house. 

Fully Embraced Adulting

"I'm going to host two parties while you're gone," said Beatrice.

It was funny, because it wasn't true. And we were comforted by that. Comforted because we'd come to the crossroads of whether it was time we could leave our teens at home alone for a night or two while Mom and Dad took a trip without them. 

Every time now when we leave them home alone I joke with them and say, "No parties." 

Both Beatrice and Bryce would laugh and say they would. But we knew they wouldn't. Unlike us when we were that age. Don't get me started. We definitely had parties. Threw a rager or two as the kids used to say. Our kids just aren't interested in that kind of social scene. I feel like fewer kids are. In fact, fewer are according to research. And fewer are sexually active as teens, too -- there's been a 54% drop since 1991. 

Goodness, were we just bored with too much alone time on our hands without adults around when my wife Amy and I were teens? Yep, we were. I mean, compared to us, we're glad our kids are good kids, without any unhealthy experimentation that we know of, and we do talk with our kids freely about most coming-of-age topics. Well, Mom does more than me because, although I do get in on the conversations when I'm not the grumpy "no" Dad. 

Since the pandemic, mental and physical health has been a big family priority for us all. Amy stopped drinking alcohol two and a half years ago, and although I still drink at most a few nights a week, it's a lot less than we did during COVID (I think many parents with school-age kids back then did as well -- call it the coping libations). 

Amy and I exercise regularly and encourage our kids to do the same. Both Beatrice and Bryce also self-regulate their device usage, especially Beatrice. They also have their friends they hang out sometimes, friends who also don't engage in risky behavior that we're aware of (like ours did back in the day).

That's why we're comfortable leaving them at home for a night or two now. They have our local friends to call in case of an emergency. And Beatrice, being the oldest, has fully embraced adulting, making sure her sibling Bryce is taken care of, our pets are taken care of, and the house is taken care of, all while taking care of herself, and now working all day five days a week at her summer camp job (this last trip we took was during two days that Bea had to work). Bryce helps and does their part as well, but Beatrice is still the responsible elder in charge while we're away.

Which is why when Beatrice said to us, "I'm going to host two parties while you're gone," we knew she was teasing us. Also, no teen who was really going to party it up ever says "I'm going to host two parties". Like ever. Unless it's a Tupperware party, and I don't think that's a thing anymore anyway. 

Schadenfreude Be Damned

I'm so done with schadenfreude, when people experience pleasure from other people's misfortune. I really am. Too many people spend too much time grounded in outrage, scarcity, and judgment, all of which allow unhappiness, loneliness, and hate to thrive. I know, I've had my share. That includes disparaging those with more money, popular entertainers, business and government leaders, those who have done us wrong in some way, and others of similar ilk. It's usually about people with power, in power, or holding power over us somehow.

And when we act that way, our children see it. Feel it. Model it. Our kids have called us out more than once about judging others while celebrating their misfortune. As parents, spouses, and friends, Amy and I have worked on this for many years; it's always a work in progress. It's also a time suck and a soul suck to live in negativity. Thankfully we've come to realize how much more energy it takes to judge and celebrate misfortune than to accept, empathize, and love -- and to let go of that which does not serve us. 

Back to the kids, though. Our children model who we are and what we do and say. And yes, there are life lessons, beliefs, morals, and more that we want our children to absorb and apply to their own lives that are never without their own bias. This becomes more evident when they are teenagers, which ours are now. We've loved watching them grow up and helping them grapple with this thing we call life. We're grateful that they reject our schadenfreude but remind them to do the same with their own. 

This doesn't mean we don't stand up, speak out, and push back on injustice and/or people we feel jeopardize our family's wellbeing and safety. Because we do. But we don't long for and celebrate the demise of those things and people we push back on. We want positive change, yes, but not to destroy that which we want to change for our betterment and the betterment of others. Just positive change, and again, through eyes of acceptance, empathy, gratitude, and love.

And it all starts at home. Recently, our family all had things about each other that bothered each other -- Bryce and Beatrice making each other feel bad about things they shouldn't have, Mom getting really mad about something she shouldn't have (and usually doesn't), and grumpy Dad getting super fussy about things he shouldn't have (and usually does). So, we spent time at dinner talking about these things, each of us sharing how we feel without judgment, really listening and hearing each other. That's no easy trick for any family with teens, including a family like ours that does work on our communication skills. 

That's why we practice communication and gratitude in our house. There's always something to be grateful for. Each other, for example. Even when we don't get along. Especially when we don't get along, because it reminds us of why acceptance, empathy, forgiveness, gratitude, and love are so important. This also applies to everything and everyone else in our lives, which is always the tricky part. Letting judgment go is grand. Schadenfreude be damned. Winston agrees (this time at least).

A Supernova Smile

"It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living." –F. Scott Fitzgerald 

It's been nearly 13 years since both my parents passed. My dad first followed by my mom four months later. My sister and I miss them every day. 

Today on Father's Day, I really miss my dad. He wasn't my biological father, but in many ways, he might as well have been, which is why we took his name when we were in high school. 

My dad and I did not agree politically, but we did share an affinity for empathy. I learned from him that men can be caring and loving, kind and forgiving. He listened to me and heard me, most of the time without judgement, and even if he didn't agree with me, we could have a conversation about everything. 

As I revisit something I wrote about him after he died, I'm struck again about how much I miss his loving smile and the laughter in his heart. It was always a sunny smile, my dad's. A master of levity, he injected humor and silliness into most everything he did. His infectious laughter brought smiles to anyone in the room, the scar above his lip gleaming under light like polished glass. For the life of me, I can't remember how he got the scar. All I know is that it added a richness to his character, like biscuits soaked in honey and butter – you could never get enough.

This from someone who served in the Air Force and who also was a law enforcement veteran of 32 years. Anyone who ever worked with him shared the same sentiment – from the criminals he put away (who he called his customers), to literal strangers he'd meet on the street, in the store, in the campground, in the post office, in the doctor's office – everyone experienced his sunny disposition, his goofy humor, and his viral smile.

My dad inspired me to do the same – to be silly, to embrace life and all the people in it, to always give life and everyone in it a second chance, to still have a smile on my face when facing adversity and my own shortcomings. To always be loving and empathetic with a lightness of being.

I remember when I carried him to the bathroom the week before he died, his frail body still buoyed by the lightness of being he had left. 

Our meditation this morning was about fathers and how we should be unconditionally loving and giving to everyone. My dad was all that, and the love and laughter in his heart left a supernova smile in mine. 

June Gloom Is Everywhere

School's out for the summer. And like many other families, ours longs for social and economic normalcy. Our oldest Beatrice has already been hanging out with her friends and started her job again as a camp counselor at a summer day camp. Our youngest Bryce is grateful for sleeping in, listening to music, watching movies, playing guitar, and waiting for their summer camps to start. We have no big summer vacation plans since Beatrice is working all summer, and so are Mom and Dad, but there are some fun things planned.

But the dark shadows of uncertainty are encroaching everywhere. Recession fears. AI taking our jobs. Global conflict escalations. Extreme weather (again) and fire danger (again). Splintered political and social ideologies that divide people everywhere. Authoritarianism on the rise. Misinformation and elusive variable truths. And I'm still mourning my dear friend. It's like the "June Gloom" as we call it in the Bay Area has blanketed everything. 

Now that our kids are teens and more aware of what's happening around them, the pressures of the adulting world combine with those dark shadows of uncertainty -- and Mom and Dad are stressing more than ever. 

Our kids a little more too, but they're still kids who know that Mom and Dad are taking care and worrying about most things for them still. Bryce wanted to organize a march supporting LGBTQIA+ rights, and did it, with a lot of help from Mom. It was peaceful and without incident, but what happens the next time if things escalate and flash-bang grenades are deployed by law enforcement and the National Guard is deployed, like what's happening in Los Angeles? We had a safety plan for Bryce's march and thankfully didn't have to use it. What happens next time is anyone's guess, but we'll be out there nonetheless. 

Plus, there are adulting worries less potentially violent but are still safety problems that we must worry about. Beatrice is stressing because she wants to get her driver's permit soon. We're excited about that, but we're not excited about our insurance rates. Ugh. But Mom and Dad are stressing because one of our cars has a transmission problem that can't be diagnosed and has become a safety problem for our family. So, that means it's time to shop for a new car after nine years, something we were not planning on doing in this frenetic tariff-driven, high-interest-rate economy. Ugh, again. 

No matter what, our family will invest in some summer normalcy without compromising our beliefs and principles. We will continue to peacefully protest to support the rights of everyone and to keep our country an inclusive democracy.

We'll also have to pay more for things, that's for damn sure, but we're grateful for what we can provide to our family. Blessings to those families who struggle to do the same.

June Gloom is everywhere. Be wary, safe, and well. 

Because There's Always A Promise

The past few weeks have been a lot. Work changes, tons of school board activities, Beatrice's High School Musical, Bryce's We Will Not Be Erased march, Bryce graduating 8th grade, and my best friend's memorial. And yet, I've never been on a sounder emotional footing.

Thank goodness, because the world around us continues to be a proverbial shit show. But none of that mattered, especially this past week. 

First, attending the elementary school promotion ceremony where both our children went to school from preschool to 5th grade was so very sweet. Our oldest Beatrice was with me because one of her longtime friend's sister was graduating 5th grade. Most of the 5th graders all looked so tiny and young. Now they were on their way to middle school. Beatrice's memories were bittersweet because it was the heart of pandemic when she graduated 5th grade and the school did a drive-through promotion certificate pick up.

When Bryce graduated 5th grade, I wasn't there because I had work travel that week. But, because the school streamed the ceremony via Zoom, I did get to watch Bryce speak along with a few other students from each 5th grade class. 

I was not going to miss their 8th grade graduations, however. Amy and I were there for Beatrice's two years ago and then Bryce's this past week. Being on the school board, I'm grateful that I got to hand both our children their promotion certificates on stage. Plus, there's nothing better when you're the school board president and your punk rock kid puts rabbit ears above your head for the photo. Love that kid!

8th grade was a lot for Bryce. They struggled with an introverted social battery that drained quickly and led to emotional changes and anxiety challenges. Beatrice experienced similar changes and challenges when she was in 8th grade, too, but who's now thriving in high school. Bryce is looking forward to joining her in high school where they'll both be in choir and theater together. Amy and I continue to provide a loving and supportive environment for them that helps them learn to adapt and thrive. 

All of Beatrice's and Bryce's recent school activities (and anxieties) have brought back many of my own bittersweet memories (and anxieties). And since my best friend Robby passed away earlier this year, my high school memories continue to unravel like multicolored streamers in high wind. They ripple, flap, and tangle, weaving and bleeding into each other – an unreliable blend of what happened then, what’s happened in the years since, and how I feel about it all now. Memories that tatter in my heart. Memories that reconcile and heal in my heart.

And it was the healing in my heart that radiated with love and gratitude at our friend's celebration of life memorial. My dearest friends and brothers as I call them helped me plan the memorial, and many other longtime friends helped to pull it off. Nearly 50 of us came together to celebrate Robby, including his sister and niece. There were many faces I hadn't seen in person in decades. There were lots of smiles and hugs, and of course tears, and while we're all certainly a lot older now, our past youthful spirits were aglow with the promise of our lives then and now. 

Because there's always a promise, one we owe to ourselves to fulfill every moment of every day. Blessings to Robby and blessings to us all.