Excavate With Love and Care

"...The world weighs on my shoulders
But what am I to do?
You sometimes drive me crazy
But I worry about you

I know it makes no difference
To what you're going through
But I see the tip of the iceberg
And I worry about you..."

–Rush, Distant Early Warning

Even with a lot of friends in high school and a close family, there were times when I was lonely. Extremely lonely. The kind where I didn't know how to articulate how lonely I was and periodic depression set in. It got worse toward the end of high school when I started having panic attacks and extreme anxiety, which at the time I understood nothing about. 

I tried to talk about it with friends and family, but it sounded trite to me. I had everything in the world going for me, so why did I feel this way? Why did I feel so alone? Why was I falling apart? No one treated me that way, but no one knew exactly how I felt, and when your self-perception is skewed to dark extremes, it's hard to accept help of any kind. The spiraling feeds on itself, propelling you into isolated oblivion where no one can reach you.

Fortunately, I worked through all that after high school, with help from dear friends, family, and therapy. Decades later I'm married with two teens and haven't felt severely lonely, anxious, or depressed for a long time. There are small fires here and there from time to time, but those are easily managed and put out. 

But today, according to a recent AARP study, 40% of U.S. adults now report being lonely, a significant increase from 35% in both 2010 and 2018. Besides us "old" folks, it's also a greater problem for Gen Z, Millennials, and the LGBTQ+ community. 

Also, according to the article, nearly half of lonely adults have limited social resources and wish for stronger connections, compared to about a third of adults overall. Community engagement is also declining: fewer people are attending religious services, volunteering, or joining local groups. 

While technology can help a helpful connector, too many adult dive into social media rabbit holes and stay too long. Even our own kids tease my wife and I about spending too much time on our devices, flipping through Facebook and Instagram. My usage is down 50% from a few years ago, but they still think I'm on too much. Social It's no wonder that more lonely adults are turning to artificially intelligent (AI) companionship. 

Loneliness is a strong predictor of poor health outcomes, including a higher risk of cognitive decline, depression, and stroke. It's linked to approximately 871,000 loneliness-related deaths annually, with significant health impacts. I read it's equated to the damage smoking a pack of cigarettes can do to the body. Thank goodness I'm an ex-smoker with limited anxiety these days. 

As a close family that does our best to fill our lives with daily joy, we're very open and empathic communicators, ready to listen to each other and provide counsel if and when needed. Or, just simply listen. Well, our teens aren't always the best listeners, and sometimes it's clear when all they hear come out of our mouths is, "Blah, blah, blah..." Because we are still the parents and the adults in charge. 

Both our kids have their own friend groups and close friends, but like many teens today, have struggled with loneliness sometimes since middle school. We've found that having the open communication with them, without shame or judgement, is the key to healthy family relationships and curbing isolation and loneliness. The more adulting they do, the more it translates into healthy relationships with others in their lives. Same goes for Mom and Dad. 

Also, get your whole family involved where you live. Volunteer your time. Join a church and/or a club. Play recreational sports. Take a class. Organize a march. Make new and lasting social connections. And if you see the tip of a loneliness iceberg, excavate with love and care to find the heart that's always there.

No Harmless Joke

We used the f-word all the time. We threw it at each other like teasing darts, meant to sting and leave a mark. We also knew other people who used the f-word to make others feel less than human, a filthy sub-species that wasn't worthy to bask in the same circles or sunlight as them. 

That may seem dramatic, but it was more than true, going all the way back to grade school for me and my friends. The usage became especially prevalent in junior high and high school. It continued for years after high school as well. It was about men minimizing other men, to demasculinize each other. When we used it against each other, we never thought about its origin or why it was ultimately offensive. And when it was between us, we were only joking with each other. 

It was only a harmless joke. C'mon.

The f-word I'm talking about is faggot. Including any derivative or tangential equivalent like "you're so gay".

Let's go back in time. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the morpheme comes from the French fagot, which means a small bundle of bound-together sticks to be used as kindling. 

By the mid-16th century, the word had become associated with the burning alive of heretics and was used in callous phrases such as "fry a faggot." 

By the 1800s, the term was also being used to refer derogatorily to women. The modern term may have come from these origins, but the etymology is in dispute.

The Oxford English Dictionary cites a 1914 reference in a book of criminal slang as the first modern American use of faggot as a slur for a homosexual male.

Today the term is listed in most every dictionary as derogatory or offensive.

When I read about the high school incident in Visalia where I grew up, I was disappointed and angered. It was my rival high school when I was a teenager, but that was decades ago and nothing like this happened then that I remember. 

A group of senior students, some who were part of the ASB student leadership, spelled out a homophobic slur with the t-shirts they were wearing. 

According to the news reporting, the picture of them doing this was taken during school hours, immediately following a senior class photo shoot. In the senior photo, the shirts spelled out "Class of 2026 Always Legit," before they rearranged the letters to say the derogatory word.

It seems to have been prompted by the fact that the seniors were leading an eight-grade orientation on when some ASB leaders reacted to two middle-school boys holding hands. Then later in the day, a small group of eight ASB students – male and female, made shirts to spell out “2 FAG6OTS” while seating next to each other on the bleachers.

Student leadership did this. During school hours. In front of the entire student body, teachers, and administration. 

The Visalia Unified Superintendent said, "This is unacceptable behavior and this matter is being thoroughly investigated and appropriate action will be taken."

He added, "Every student deserves to feel respected, protected, and valued on our campuses. We will continue working to ensure our schools are places where dignity, belonging, and accountability guide our actions."

I also read that one of the students' parents was quoted anonymously that "we will deal with them; they didn't mean any harm".

I ask the parents of these kids -- then why did they do it in the first place? Why did they think it was okay? The problem with privileged circular logic is that some of them probably do believe it was a harmless joke. 

When some of my friends in high school egged another friend's house, him and his parents were very hurt. My parents were very upset and disappointed in us. I was upset and disappointed in us. But some of the other fathers didn't care and chocked it up as harmless teen fun. 

Back in the day, my friends and I also rationalized it as harmless joking amongst ourselves. We thought we were pretty good guys who just teased each other relentlessly. It took many years after high school for us to understand how cruel and offensive it was using gay slurs, ethnic slurs, female slurs, etc., and we finally changed our behavior. We never spelled out a slur with our t-shirts at a school function, but that didn't make our behavior any less hurtful if others knew what we said.

Many of us went on to have families of our own. My wife and I have two daughters, both in high school now, and our youngest identifies as non-binary and is gay. Something they knew since they were in the 4th grade. Something we've accepted fully because we love our children and fully support them in being who they are and becoming happy and healthy adults. I believe that's true with most parents. 

We now live in a country whose leadership openly and unapologetically practices discrimination, humiliation, cruelty, misogyny, and harassment of historically marginalized populations. Masked in the guise of equality and unity. Thankfully most of us pushing back against the offensive and dehumanizing rhetoric and actions.

So again, I ask the parents of the students who spelled out the homophobic slur at the school function, and the students themselves who did it (some of whom were ASB leaders): Why did they/you do it in the first place? Why did they/you think it was okay? What should the consequences be? What's the learning opportunity here, the empathic growth opportunity for all involved? 

It's no harmless joke, kids. Everyone deserves to feel respected, protected, and valued. Even those we don't like and disagree with. No one deserves their humanity and rights minimized based on gender, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or religion. As the parents and the adults in the room, we can and should do better for our kids. For all the kids. 

Finding Joy

I knew immediately she wasn't a conference attendee. Not so much based on what she wore, clothes I remember seeing at Grateful Dead shows in the late 1980's. Colorful, loose-fitting shirt and pants. A little dingy, but no body odor smell. She had a small, kind face, tan and leathered, but I assumed she was only in her forties. She also didn't have on a conference badge, so that was telling. 

She stopped in from our table in the exhibit space eyeing the LEGO figures we had on display. They were part of our fun giveaway; attendees could build their ideal job candidate with the Legos and then we'd talk with them about optimizing their candidate and experience. Our company, Survale, helps companies improve their recruiting, hiring, and retention, through candidate and employee experience feedback. 

"How's the conference going for you so far?" I asked. I instantly felt bad asking her that, knowing that she wasn't attending.

"Great," she said. 

I wasn't surprised she said this. She was eating one of the tapioca deserts they had served at lunch. 

"The tapioca's good, isn't it," I said.

"Yes. Can I build one?" she said, referring to the LEGO people. 

"Of course," I said. 

My co-workers engaged with her as well as she built her first LEGO person. We all knew she wasn't attending the conference.

One of them asked her about the conference, and she said, "Oh, I'm not attending. I was just walking down the beach and saw this event. I came over and had some lunch and now I'm building a Lego person."

As she built her person, her face awakened with determined joy. There weren't a lot of parts to build these Lego people, but she methodically took her time, selecting and re-selecting the legs, body, head, hair, and accessory the figure would hold. 

She finished and I told her it looked great. Then she asked, "Can I build another one?"

"Sure, please do," I said. 

More determined joy. The exhibiting part of the conference was almost over, so we gave her the space and the time to build. 

One of our team asked to take her picture putting the Legos together. Her joy drained away and she looked concerned. "No, I don't think so," she said. But she ultimately agreed when she didn't have to look directly at the phone camera, that it was just for our marketing team.

When she was done with her second figure, she started to walk away, paused, her eyes fixated on the Legos still, and then turned to face us again.

"Can I just do one more?" she asked.

"Of course," I said. 

After the stranger left our table, I realized I never asked what her name was, nor did I share mine. I knew nothing else about her -- whether she was unemployed and/or unhoused; whether she had a criminal past or not; whether she was alone or had her own family; whether she had physical and/or mental health issues. 

What I did know is that for a few moments, she found intentional joy in putting together the LEGO people, and we encouraged her to do it, without shame or judgement. A simple moment of empathic humanity.

I also knew she was someone's daughter, and that made me think about our own daughters, and their adult lives that have yet to unfold. Supposedly humans make over 35,000 decisions each day equating to nearly a billion decisions in a lifetime. Because adulting is hard, we've encouraged our kids to consciously manifest a happy and healthy life. But there will unforeseen circumstances to deal with and poor decisions will be made along the way. Hopefully fewer and farther in between than we experienced, especially me. 

If there's one thing I believe we've imparted on them to date, it's finding joy in everything they do. Always. Intentionally. Unequivocally. Joy.

Our Children's Future

Our oldest Beatrice loves history. Our youngest Bryce loves science. Both have been rewritten and rolled back by the current U.S. government. Our rights continue to be trampled on, and citizens are being harassed, injured, and killed. These are scary times for all Americans. Even those who support it all.

But they're especially scary for our children. My wife Amy and I hopefully have many more years of living ahead, but our children's futures are in jeopardy. We know. Our friends with kids know it. Our kids know it. 

Which was why we were okay with them both participating in the "Stop ICE Day of Action" school walk out and protest. Over 1,000 high school and middle school students in our district exercised their 1st amendment rights to gather peacefully and protest what's happening in our country. 

That wasn't without some reservations from us, however. First, being a parent and a school board member, I was torn letting our kids miss school for this event. Our district issued a statement for parents that read, "On Friday, schools will offer optional structured opportunities for reflection, discussion, writing, and creative expression so students can exercise their first amendment rights while safely remaining on campus. Because school attendance is state law, we cannot endorse or provide resources for any walk-out of school. This is true regardless of the nature of the protest." 

Our school district added, "Our highest priority is student safety, well-being, and belonging." For every single student. Another board member also reminded me that "through existing school board policy, we have a shared responsibility to uphold student rights, maintain safe learning environments, and support staff in their professional roles." 

Absolutely. And Amy reminded our two teens about our family safety plans going to a protest or any event (concert, sporting event, etc.). Always be aware of what's happening around you. Stay away from the cars driving on the streets. If confrontations happen, move away from them as quickly and safely as possible. Do not go towards them and engage. Listen to and let local law enforcement do their job. Go into a store or any place of business to find refuge. Call 911 if need be. Call us as well.

I've never pretended to ignore what's been happening in America. As citizens and parents, we will speak our truth more frequently because this will not stand. Our democratic republic is being transformed daily and we could spiral into authoritarianism for decades if we don't act. This includes contacting our elected officials, peacefully protesting, voting, and empowering our local communities. Beatrice will be voting for the first time in November and she's excited to exercise that right. So are we. 

Because if we don't act, it does not bode well for our children's future. Hit the streets (and the books), kids. No cap (as the kids would say, or maybe not anymore now that I've said it). 

Keep America Free and Just

What's happening in America has weighed on my heart and my family's, so I wrote an open letter to our federally elected officials that I plan on sending to as many as I can, even to those who don't represent our region and my state. 

There are those Representatives and Senators who do oppose the authoritarian overreach happening in Minneapolis and elsewhere, but it still feels like no one is stopping it. 

And for the safety of all American citizens, stop it we must. Let's keep America free and just. 

***

Dear Representative/Senator [Last Name],

It's with a heavy heart that I'm contacting you. The DHS federal enforcement of immigration policies in the United States of America has become extremely dangerous to undocumented immigrants, legally documented immigrants, and every American citizen. 

Most Americans would agree that we should arrest and prosecute criminals, but it's clear what the federal government is doing goes far beyond that mandate. U.S. citizens are being harassed, pepper sprayed, beaten, and arrested as if they were criminals. It has become a literal fear and shakedown campaign to suppress our 1st amendment rights to gather and protest peacefully. Calling state elected officials and protestors alike domestic terrorists allows the federal government to escalate, arrest U.S. citizens, and unfortunately hurt and/or kill them. Witness accounts (and video proof) of the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti contradict that of federal law enforcement, border patrol, and ICE agents. But it's the federal government continues to insist they are enforcing the law and those protesting are violating it. 

This isn't the first time federal law enforcement overreach has jeopardized the safety of American citizens. There's been: The Whiskey Rebellion (1794), Enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Act (1850s), The Pullman Strike (1894), The Bonus Army (1932), Civil Rights & Antiwar Protests (1960s–70s), and Post-9/11 Policing. 

And now this. Throughout our history, there have been times when local communities and local law enforcement have needed the assistance of federal law enforcement, but not today, at least not in the way it's being deployed. We don't need thousands of masked ICE agents terrorizing the streets of America. Families like ours fear that what is happening in Minneapolis is spreading into everyone's neighborhoods, and then none of us will be safe, especially those of us who speak up and out against this authoritarian abuse of power. No more due process for anyone. Just cruelty, fear, and oppression.

Millions of Americans want you to do everything you can to stop these violent actions against our citizens, legal immigrants, and undocumented immigrants, who most are doing what they can to make a better life for themselves and their families. These actions are not making us safer as a nation, just more fearful and unstable.

The United States of America has become unrecognizable. It's time our elected officials recognize this, work together regardless of political ideology, and do something about it. As a U.S. citizen, a husband, and a father of two, I implore you to help end this dystopian madness.

Sincerely,

Kevin Grossman

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