Six Months to the Rest of My Life

I stood on the cliff overlooking the ocean. The same ocean I had looked at just a few years earlier, thinking to myself, I'm going to live here. And live here I did, with the love of my life Amy, whom I also met a few years earlier one day at the beach.

The wind pummeled me from the sea, cold and damp. I was drunk. Again. I smoked a cigarette. The burning smoke enhanced my dark euphoria. I cried and smoked another cigarette. 

This recurring pattern continued for a few months. I had been laid off from my startup tech job and was unemployed. Amy and I did take an amazing trip across Europe shortly after I was laid off, but when the travels were over, the perpetual hangover kicked in. I struggled with my blue genes, my addictions, my destructive past patterns of soul-crushing anxiety laced with depression. I didn't know what to do; this was post the dot-com bubble bursting into a tough job market. I felt like a failure unworthy of love or grace, even with my new found love.

At that time, I hid how much I drank from Amy. She worked nights then and it was too easy to drink more than usual. By the time she got home, I was already asleep. Passed out more likely. But then one day she found out what I was hiding, and the reckoning was upon me.

I come from addiction genes; my birth father was an abusive alcoholic and my mother struggled with chronic pain and painkillers later in life. I didn't start drinking until the very end of high school, but the fact is that I did start. Same with smoking cigarettes. In fact, I smoked cigarettes for 14 years after high school. A pack a day on average for most of those years. 

After the above heavy drinking, I didn't quit drinking, but I didn't drink as much and I didn't hide it anymore. Amy and I both drank in moderation, until the pandemic, where we both upped our intake (like many others at the time). I remember our kids asking us why we drank nearly every night. I'll come back to that one.

In 2002, I quit smoking. Amy and I were to be married in 2003, but she didn't want to marry a smoker. I didn't blame her. But it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. 

Nicotine has been proven to be as addictive as cocaine and heroin and may even be more addictive. 70 percent of smokers report wanting to quit, but many wait until they develop a significant tobacco-related disease such as heart disease, cancer or stroke.

The first two years were rough, but thankfully I did it. My official quit date was September 22, 2002, the same date when our oldest Beatrice was born years later. 

Which brings me back to drinking. Post-pandemic, Amy decided there would be no more drinking for her; she wanted to be healthier; it was no longer "fun". It'll be four years for her in October. She didn't have a problem with me still drinking and I kept it low to moderate (except for work trips unfortunately). Our kids asked why I still drank. While I reminded them it was usually only 2-3 times per week, Bryce would say to me, "You have a beer every night, Dad."

Then came the death of my dear friend Robby. Paralyzed since his swimming accident in high school, he suffered from chronic pain and a body that degenerated over the decades. And like my mother, he struggled with painkillers.

After that, I really began to reflect on my relationship with drinking. Alcohol is detrimental and there's plenty of data now showing how toxic it is to the body, no matter the amount ingested. Without planning exactly when, I stopped on March 22 this year, six months to the anniversary date of my quitting smoking back in 2002.

When you're genetically dispositioned to addiction, ultimately the only choice you have is to not do the thing you might become highly addicted to. That was something I learned from attending Nicotine Anonymous (same program as AA) before I quit for good. Because if you choose to do it, you're right back in the heart of the destructive dark abyss. Overdramatic? Not really. Those who know, know. And mercy me, quitting smoking was a lot harder than quitting drinking, that's for sure. 

I'm glad I quit drinking. I'm glad my wife did four years before me. We also know our own kids may drink someday and that's their choice (but as far as we know they haven't yet). However, I know firsthand that addiction and purposeful sedation prevented me from overcoming fear, anxiety, and scarcity, instead of embracing love and the potential abundance of a brighter life. And better health. You can truly never be happy if you don’t let go of the things that make you sad. And in the end, alcohol always made me sad. 

So today, my life-affirming sentence is six months to the rest of my life. Blessings.

Big-Tent Friendships

The skinheads filmed us during the birthday party. Dozens of people in my parents’ house, partying it up, to celebrate our dear friend Robby's 21st birthday. Robby wanted them to film it, but that video is now gone forever.

I think. C'mon, give me a break; it was a long time ago and memories tend to morph into multiverses that may or may not exist. So, for this piece, I'm believe it did. 

They were skinheads, no doubt. That 1960's derivative of UK working-class pride that evolved into the 1970's and 1980's white power subcultures. They were always nice to me, and Robby of course because they were friends of his, but they did keep others we knew on edge (I just thought they were punk rock).

We all had a lot of fun over the years, these best friends of mine, with gravity's center being Robby. Robby who was a swimmer and water polo player in high school. Robby who broke his neck at a swim meet our senior year in high school, changing the trajectory of his life forever. Robby who became emotionally stuck in the spring of 1984. Robby who struggled with pain and day-to-day activities and his life-altering paralysis.

For decades we'd journey to Chico California to visit him. And not just my core group of friends -- Greg, Rob, and Craig -- but other longtime friend groups -- Charles, Donovan, another Greg, and another Craig. And many other men and women over the years. Robby had a pretty big circle of friends since high school; he connected with many flavors of humans over the years. There were those of us from our hometown of Visalia, and many others from Chico where he lived for over 35 years. There were old high school friends and water polo and swimmer friends and artist friends and rocker friends and plain Jane friends and even skinheads as mentioned above.

The list went on and on. When we held Robby's memorial in Visalia, many friends of the past joined us in celebrating Robby's life. Fast forward over a year later and a little bigger circle of friends got together in the Sierras and spent the weekend celebrating Robby, our friendships, our lives, and getting to know others we never really knew that well. And of course, teasing each other relentlessly, which has been our way for 45+ years. Our friend Donovan had made t-shirts for us that said "Robby Day Day" on the front with his birthdate and passing date on the back.

However, it's not all ribbing and guy talk; we're vulnerable with each other, too. Willing to share our highlights and hopes, and our funkiness and fears. Two of us have stopped drinking alcohol. One never drank. Two are retired. One's had open-heart surgery. We talked and laughed and talked and laughed a lot more. I grilled the meats all weekend and Rob and I drove the pontoon boat on the lake. 

We've been brothers to each other for decades, more so now than ever, and miss our brother Robby. We love each other and tell each other. I can't remember the countless phone calls with Robby where he'd end with "I love you, man", like the Paul Rudd and Jason Segel movie of the same name. They're friends who bond over their mutual adoration of the rock band Rush. Not too far off the mark for us either (especially for my friend Troy and me). 

Robby was an empathic big-tent friend sharing big-tent friendships with many. That's one of the many things that made him special. That's why I love watching our own children becoming big-tent friends with others in their social circles in high school with the hope that they'll have similar life-long friendships. And not just in high school either. In college, the workplace, and wherever they go and whatever they do. I do and my wife Amy does, too.

So, here's to big-tent friendships and the toast I made with my friends when we were together in the Sierras (or something like this): 

"Here’s to our torrid pasts, our playful presents (and presence), our bright futures — and to our friendships."

I love you guys. Blessings. 

• The Full Oliver Friendships
• All the Friendship in Between, with Love
• 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

What I'm Grateful For

It's less often these days when we all want to do the same thing. Each of us is their own unique person with separate interests. And that's okay. 

My wife Amy and I are doing more things together without our kids. Our interests have overlapped for nearly 30 years since we met and we're revisiting some of them now that our kids are older. 

We're not empty nesters yet; our kids are still in high school. It's the precursor to that: they are old enough and responsible enough to stay by themselves for a few days here and there and we can venture out on our own.

Our oldest Beatrice goes to bed earlier like Mom and Dad do, but our youngest Bryce is a night owl. Both are busy with school, choir, theater, volunteering, and babysitting. We're busy with work, Amy with PTA, and me with the school board. They have their friends and we have ours.

However, one very important "same thing" we do together is dinner. With the exceptions of Amy and I having an evening meeting, or if I'm traveling for work, dinner is and has always been a sacred time for us. Sacred because it's an opportunity for all of us to share our day's happenings, the highlights (and sometimes lowlights), to discuss current events, to plan family events, and most importantly, share what each of us are grateful for. 

Ever since they were little, we've been sharing gratitude at dinner. Now that they're teens, sharing gratitude on a feeling-funky-off day isn't easy. Same goes for Mom and Dad. We have our own feeling-funky-off days, too. But it's non-negotiable; each one of us is required to share what they're grateful for, because there's always something to be grateful for. And because there's always something to be grateful for, it grounds us in the happy now, and what to look forward to in the potential of tomorrow. 

There are times when our kids say they have nothing to share. But we're patient and they eventually share. Again, it's non-negotiable for a reason. It's helps us all to reset to the now again, that we're all together sharing a meal, sharing our days, sharing our love, and it makes no never mind on what happens next. 

And what happens next after dinner can vary. After I do the dishes, I usually go play my drums in the garage. Amy and Bryce might what some TV together. Beatrice goes into her room to do homework. 

Occasionally, we all do something together. After dinner last night, Bryce asked us all to go for a walk. We all concurred. It was a warm September late summer night; the kind we get a lot of this time of the year. Not only did all four of us want to go for a walk, our dog Jenny did, too. Dogs are always up for going for a walk. 

Our cat Winston went with us, too. Not by choice, though. Bryce had wanted a cat backpack this year for their birthday and that's what they got. The first time Winston when in the backpack, he peed inside it. We didn't get upset because it was obviously stressful. He's an indoor cat and we rarely let him outside. 

Since that first time, he's gotten used to it, and just sits and smells and looks around at the big outside world he's never really known. So, Bryce loaded him up, I connected the leash to Jenny's collar, and off we went for a post-dinner walk around the block. 

As we walked and talked, the love for my family swelled my heart to the size of the setting sun. The setting sun we walked towards in the warm, pre-dusk evening. I didn't even want to take a picture, which I usually do (instead, I picked another sunset photo I've taken). 

No, I just wanted to stay in this moment with my family. We made these two amazing humans, I thought, and now they're making their own amazing ways. And we all still love doing things together. 

That's why I already know what I'm going to share tonight about what I'm grateful for. 

Healthier Options Help Make the Grade

I used to love cowboy bread. Except when it tasted like soap. 

To be fair, most of the time it tasted great. I remember it was a basic sweet cake with a crumbly cinnamon-sugar topping. When I ate hot lunches in grade school, it was a treat to eat. But sometimes, when the cake pans weren't rinsed completely (or I assumed that was why), there was a soapy aftertaste to the bread. 

Besides the cowboy bread, I loved eating hot lunches in grade school. Except for the peanut butter filled celery stalks. Celery stalks? Really? For me, it tasted of crispy tasteless blech. The peanut butter, though? I scraped that right out and ate it up!

I loved hot lunches so much that in sixth grade I volunteered to work in the cafeteria. Sixth graders could sign up to work in the cafeteria for two weeks. We helped serve food and we helped clean up. And the best part? We got seconds. I was a skinny, asthmatic kid back then, but I did gain a few pounds those two weeks. 

All those TV-dinner-kind-of meals were mostly yummy to me back in the day. Salisbury steak, meatloaf smothered in brown gravy or ketchup glaze, rectangular pizza with ground beef and melted cheese, fish sticks served with a side of tartar sauce, sloppy joes on soft white hamburger buns, tuna noodle casserole or macaroni and cheese, hot dogs and grilled cheese sandwiches, all served with comfort food sides. 

Although I'm sure we would've qualified back in 1970s for free school meals, my mom sent my sister and I to school each week with our lunch money, sometimes all in change. Mom also made us lunches to take to school, too. But once we started junior high and then high school, we were eating more fried foods and less healthy options. In high school, being able to go off campus to buy lunch was the way to go. I have fond memories of Frito boats (a small bag of Fritos cut open with chili, cheese, and onions dumped atop the crunchy corn chips) and Del Taco burritos, among other fast foods.

Eating healthy food for breakfast and lunch improves students' grades, boosts brain function, and increases school attendance. There's a ton of research that validates this. Since 2022, California has funded free breakfast and lunch in all public schools to all students through a state mandate backed by state funding and federal nutrition programs. Free to all students regardless of income level. No more stigmatizing low-income families whose kids would otherwise go hungry. 

These free meals aren't guaranteed forever, but thankfully our state continues to make these investments in health and wellness for our children, even when the federal government continues to gut overall education. Only 9 states currently offer free meals for all public school students. Our kids have always enjoyed having healthier and yummy choices for breakfast, brunch, and lunch. They don't eat the school food every day, but it's there when they're hungry to keep their brains firing.

Besides being a parent, I'm also a school board trustee, and very proud of our award-winning food services team in our Santa Cruz City Schools district (and we get to eat the food, too!). They've also made the list of America's Healthiest Schools for four years in a row now. They source a lot of our food locally, focusing on local organic farms, local bakeries, and local meat vendors. 

Also known as the SCCS Surf City Cafe, their staff ensures that breakfast, brunch, lunch, and even supper and after school snack programs throughout the district meet the needs of students and staff. They also run a farmers' market periodically at the high schools featuring local fruits and vegetables. And now there's a SCCS-led Central Coast Cooperative that helps more than 20 school districts combine their purchasing power to get better local ingredients and products for their schools. No more ultra-processed-only foods! 

Now, I don't see cowboy bread on our school menus, but mercy me, there are lots of super yummies for all our students at all grade levels to choose from, K-12. True, our kids do still hit the gas station mini-mart for junkie snacks after school just like we did in high school. We're grateful they have healthier options at school, though. Healthier options that help make the grade!

The Show Must Go On

The night before auditions, both our kids were stressed. For Beatrice, it was more anticipatory, positive stress. For Bryce, it was a foreboding, negative stress. I worried how this one would play out, because this time, Beatrice is the director making all the decisions along with the help of a teacher-advisor. 

Both kids have been in theater for years, but our youngest Bryce got involved in theater and choir in middle school, and our oldest Beatrice not until high school. Now both are in high school and loving both. 

However, with theater, both kids have had their gripes about not getting the parts they wanted. This isn't unique to our kids; anyone who tries out and does the best they can during the audition will be disappointed when they don't get the part they wanted. This will be true for their entire lives, whether that's auditioning for a part, applying for a job, asking for a promotion, and so many other adulting activities. 

We were proud because they were always still all in no matter what they got. They enjoyed themselves and we've enjoyed all the productions they've been a part of. But as I wrote above, this time Beatrice is the director. We're super proud that she stepped up to do this her senior year, and besides working over the summer, she began to prep and plan about the play, which is a murder mystery. That's all we know and all we want to know because my wife Amy and I want to be surprised!

Beatrice has still run play things past us, filling us in on her planning and some of the characters, all without giving away the "whodunnit" part. The one thing we knew is that Beatrice would be (and is) very organized in the planning, the blocking, and who should get what part. Organized and fair. When you have a lot more people try out than what you have parts for, you have to get creative with how many more you can keep than those parts. 

The thing I worried about the most was the fact that one of those auditioning students is her sibling, Bryce. Bryce kept themself calm as much as possible, but the week before the auditions for this fall's murder mystery, the pressure cooker cranked up to 11 (that's a Spinal Tap reference). Bryce lobbied hard for specific parts that had more lines. Beatrice, forever the optimist and already a great boundary setter and leader, kept her cool and kept reminding Bryce to go for it when they tried out, without promising anything.

Bryce was relentless but also self-deprecating, discounting their own acting abilities, riding that pre-audition stomach-curdling roller coaster. Beatrice remained composed with more emotional intelligence than I could have ever wished for when I was 17. Her positive excitement of picking out the cast and directing the play infected us all, even keeping Bryce smiling more than frowning. And Bryce, to their credit, has already given Beatrice some solid directing ideas (something they want to do in the future). 

Thankfully they both made it through auditions intact. Beatrice and the teacher-advisor finalized the cast list, and Bryce landed a role they were more than happy with, based on their abilities, and not because of their sister the director. We all breathed a happy sigh of relief. 

In life, the show must go on no matter what, and we're grateful that right now, our kids have got it going on (as the expression goes). We can't wait for the show!

Mindful of Their Money

"...Big money goes around the world

Big money give and take

Big money done a power of good

Big money make mistakes..."

–Rush, Big Money

Our oldest Beatrice banked another big chunk of money. This was the third summer she's worked nearly full time as a camp counselor for a summer day camp in town. She loved working with the kids, but sometimes the days felt super long working with the 7- to 10-year-olds. 

Another big chunk of money banked, though. Four years ago, we opened mutual funds accounts for both our kids and explained the importance of saving for the future, including college and/or other life expenses. We contribute to them monthly and encouraged Beatrice to contribute the majority of her summer earnings to the account. Plus, she'll continue to babysit during the school year for extra cash. Our youngest Bryce hasn't been old enough to get a job yet and will be able to soon. Babysitting will not be one of them. 😆

Both kids also receive an allowance for weekly home chores. Bryce would spend it all immediately if we didn't make them save some of it. Beatrice has been much better at saving/spending her allowance and job money. Now that she's driving, she's helping to pay for her car insurance, which doubled our monthly rate. We want her driving, but now we understand why some parents don't want their kids driving as a teenager. The cost of any kind of insurance these days is definitely a future rant post. 

Financial literacy has been a priority for us to pass on to our kids. Something we didn't get much of growing up. Our parents did the best they could with what they had, and neither family had a lot, but we do wish we learned to be more fiscally responsible at an earlier age. I saved for my first car in high school and my parents co-signed a car loan for the rest of what I owed.

Things went south financially after high school. I did pay for most of my bumpy college ride, eventually and proudly receiving my degree. But, I began to sink myself deeper into credit card debt, which exponentially became worse during my first marriage. When I met my now wife Amy, I had no choice but to file for bankruptcy. The debt spiral I was in was of my own making (and my ex's). Since then, I've rebuilt my credit and we began saving for retirement and eventually our kids' futures. 

Part of that savings is to have a few months of emergency cash just in case. Less than half of U.S. adults have emergency money saved, so we're very grateful we've been able to save, period. We've had some tough financial times in the nearly 30 years we've been together. Those weren't without fights and relationship strains either, but we've always worked together to figure out what we needed to do. 

This is why financial literacy is so important for us and our kids. Beatrice met recently with our/her financial advisor, something that was unfathomable to me when I first met Amy. He explained how her money was being invested, what her return has been, and the importance of the longer-term investment strategy. Beatrice had relevant questions that he answered clearly and succinctly. We have no idea where financial adulting will take both our kids, but if we have anything to do with it, they'll be mindful of their money.

The First Day Is Never the Last

 "...From first to last
The peak is never passed
Something always fires the light
That gets in your eyes
One moment’s high
And glory rolls on by
Like a streak of lightening
That flashes and fades
In the summer sky..."

–Rush, Marathon

And then it's 11 years later.

From kindergarten and second grade to a sophomore and a senior in high school. 

Every year I take nearly the same first-day-of-school photo with our two kids, Beatrice and Bryce. It's in front of our house, the same house my wife Amy and me have lived in for 20 years. I had decided back way back when the kids started school that I didn't want to do the kids-holding-sign thing stating what year and class they were in. Partly because I didn't want to stress our kids out by holding a sign; I just wanted to capture the easiest first-day-of-school pictures I could, while getting Bryce to smile without sticking their tongue out.

Every year I take nearly the same photo, and it's been a blessing to experience how our kids have grown over time. It's also a blessing that they still let me take the first-day-of-school pictures. And it's been a continuous blessing of how much they enjoy school, more so that they're both in high school. When they were younger, they couldn't wait to show us their classrooms during open house. However, the first day of school wasn't always the best, and middle school had its lumpy bumps as a beautiful mess in progress. 

They've both found their community in high school theater and choir and couldn't wait this year for the first period of day 1, which was choir. We can't wait to watch the murder mystery play Beatrice is directing this fall and hear all the amazing choir concerts throughout the year. And then there's the choir festival next spring in Anaheim, which we'll again chaperone. The keyword here is Disney, of course. Hopefully Bryce will do another duet and/or solo this year, too. Plus, it's Beatrice's senior year. Nope, I'm not crying yet, but I will be.

It's 11 years later and our kids have grown exponentially, physically and emotionally. Yes, their prefrontal cortexes are still developing, but it's been a joy watching them develop while providing them nurturing guidance and becoming a stable through line to all their peaks and valleys. 

That's why I'm quoting Rush lyrics again from one of my favorite writers (and drummers), Neil Peart, who passed away in 2020. Not only because I saw the band play again this year with their new amazing drummer, and will see them again this fall, because the music still profoundly inspires me 44 years after becoming a super fan. Marathon is one of my favorite songs (the song quote above), although when asked what my favorites are, my response today is "all of them". Marathon captures the beauty of life over time when you live it to your fullest without burning out:

"...You can do a lot in a lifetime
If you don’t burn out too fast
You can make the most of the distance
First you need endurance —
First you’ve got to last..."

You just need the mindful endurance to last and to treat every moment as a blessing. To not fear failure or become weighted with regret. To always be learning and trying new things, to stretch your innate capacity for elasticity while curbing complacency. To never diminish the soul's sunlight burning bright within by embracing love and empathy from birth to passing. Amy and I have practiced and embodied all these things since before our kids, and have done our best to impart on them since having kids.

It's 11 years later, the age of adulting is here, and ultimately their journey is theirs to live, not ours. It's true that any day can feel like a first day, but the first day is never the last.