Little Mr. Goodwrench

A week ago Calvin came in and told me that he had something for me to do. One of the neighborhood kid's rip stick (its a new fangled skate board) broke. Calvin brought it to me and said, "Dad you're the best fixer so you need to fix this. I told Ethan that you would fix it with your tools." With the confidence of my sweet six year old I felt like I could conquer the world so we went into the garage to take a look-see. I'm not much of a mechanic but I am somewhat mechanically inclined so I was up for the challenge. Right away I saw a missing set screw. I showed it to Calvin and explained to him what was missing and that we would need to get a new one at the hardware store. He was ready to go that instant, but I had other work that needed to be done so I told him we'd go when we had more time. To satisfy his need to get this fixed I told him to see if he could find the missing screw out in the front of the house. He agreed and searched for as long as his little attention span would allow, about 5 minutes. I was impressed.

A few days passed and that darn toy sat on my work bench. Whenever I'd walk by, it reminded me of the enthusiasm and good helpful nature of my boy who wanted so much to do this for his friend. Finally I had an hour. I scooped up Cal and we went to the hardware store. He looked in all of the drawers and bins where the bolts are kept. He picked up the first one and said, "Here it is Dad! This is the one we need!" Then he'd see another and put the first one down and say, "No, here it is. This is the one we need!" This repeated itself about a dozen times. While that was going on I found the right bolt. I agreed that his 12th choice was the right one, switched it with the one I found, paid for it, and headed back home.

When we arrived home I told him to grab a stool because he was going to fix it. He ran as fast as he could, grabbed the stool and climbed up to the work bench. I handed him the set screws and an Allen wrench and after a little help with the first screw he did the second one all by himself. He was so proud. I was so proud. As soon as he was done he grabbed the board and took it out to his friend. He set it on the ground at his feet and said, "There. It's all fixed." The boy thanked him as he got on it and rode down the street.

This little boy saw a need and tended to it. He didn't do it because he broke it, he didn't do it because he could possibly ride it, he doesn't even know how to. He did it because in his eyes it just needed done. Calvin then turned and walked back to me grinning ear to ear.  At that moment of realization I was grinning from tear to tear. My boy.

Cutting No Slack

I took Lauren with me to run an errand. We went to the market to get some produce. She is so fun to be with because she gets so excited about things that most people would not, it's infectious. We needed apples. She asked if she could pick them out. Of course she can. The color was a big decision, but she found the 'most beautiful' red-yellow-green ones. I think they are called Gala Apples. She thoroughly inspected each one making sure it was shiny and had no worms. Then we moved on to oranges. The navels were on sale for 88 cents per pound. We filled up the bag. "Wait! We need to weigh it!" I agreed. As I was walking to the scale I sized up the bag and told her we had 5 or 6 pounds in it. She didn't believe me. I put it on the scale and it measured 5 3/4 pounds! Like I had just roped a calf in record time I put both hands up and said, "How do you like that?" Very much unimpressed she said, "You were wrong Dad. You said 5 or 6, its 5 3/4."

Spelling Test

While my Lauren was preparing her Valentines for the kids in her class she asked me how to spell one of the kids name. I don’t remember what name it was but after I spelled it she giggled and told me I was wrong. She dug into her backpack and found her class list. She told me the correct spelling. When I say ‘correct’ I mean the spelling that her parents used when they were filling out her birth certificate, (while highly inebriated, I suppose). It was not correct by my standards’ or by traditional, Americana spelling, that was for sure. She proceeded to give me an impromptu spelling test. She would say the name, I would give the traditional spelling she would tell me I was wrong, then squeal and give me the ‘correct’ spelling. The trend seems to go with some phonetic variation and swap y's or ee's and other such silliness. And so it went. I think I got two girls right, one of which was Lauren, and about a third of the boys names right. (Jaxon instead of Jackson is not cute but a cruel joke to play on your kid.)



I'm sure it seemed cute at the time, but as these alternately spelled name kids grow up it might become a little annoying to always have to spell your name for people. I speak with a little experience as my parents chose biblical spelling of my name, but most of the heathens spell it Steven. It has become second nature to say, "It's Stephen with a 'p-h', and Hixon with an 'x', like Nixon.”



So good luck M'kennzee S., Ryleigh R., and the others; It will be rare when you name is spelled right, learn patience and tolerance.

Perspective.

Today Hannah turns 15. Last night I was waxing nostalgic with my sweet daughter, wishing she could stop growing up and just stay my little girl forever. She looked at me and said, "Dad, face it, in five years I'm going to be twenty."


Oh no!! How could that be? Where have the days gone? Five years from now seems way too close. 2005 seemed like a few blinks of the eye ago! Panic set in.

I began to think a little and I reflected back and realized that I've been telling Hannah, (and her siblings), to stop growing or even 'reverse grow' for years now. If I meant it then and I mean it now, then the truth is I love that girl no matter her age. I think I love her now more than ever. So instead of longing for what was, I am excited for what is to come. The panic was replaced with peace.

What a wonderful thing it is to gain a new perspective on life!

Precious.

Make Believe Pals

The last time I had TV idols were back in the eighties. I really wanted to be a member of the A-Team. My friends and I would pretend to be the A-Team, even though I wanted to be Hannibal, the rest of the team thought I should be Face, my hair color was the same.

For my adult life I have become less and less interested in all the TV and movie glitz and glamour of Hollywood. It’s to fake for me. I must be coming around because I think I have assembled the new A-Team. It's Ben Bailey, Mike Rowe, Alton Brown, and Me. These three guys are the guys that I'd like to hang out with. I guess if we have to do a little 'solider of fortune' work we could do that too, but man I think that we all would get along just swell.

This time I get to be Hannibal!!

Shhhhh!

(meat memoirs trois)


I get a kick out of the whole 'secret ingredient' aspect of cooking. The Colonial’s secret spices, the bean commercial with that talking dog that holds the secret family recipe and every other weekend cook-out in America has hushed secret ingredients, secret sauces, and the like. It's like some kind of a badge or right of passage into the culinary world. I think its' a bunch of hooey. It seems to me on the one hand you have the lay man, who is just dying to know what the secret ingredient is, will not be able to re-create whatever it was that he ate. On the other hand and for the most part, a good cook or chief should be able to extrapolate what is in the foods that he or she tastes. So why is it so secret? Basically good food starts with good ingredients, but that is just the start.


On occasion I get asked, “What’s in your secret rub?” My answer is that I don't have a secret rub. It's no secret that I use brown sugar, coarse kosher salt, paprika, seasoned salt, garlic salt, ground black pepper, onion salt, and crushed red pepper flakes for most of the meat I cook. (Grill, smoke, or barbeque)

looking into my rub ingredients.

The mystery for most folks is the fact that if you want good meat on Sunday you might have to get started on Wednesday or Thursday. That is the secret ingredient. From what I have observed, most people would find it easier to understand if I said I used juniper berries that I collect on the island of Crete while on my annual spice voyage than me saying it was pre-planning and time.

So my secret seems to be safe.

Heart Shaped Rock

(the title makes me think of Nirvana)

I have seen many a'rock in my day. If the average Joe has seen millions of rocks, than I have seen billions. I have been in the drilling and excavating business for nearly seventeen years!! One day about three years ago as I was walking on a job site I looked down and saw a heart shaped rock. I had never seen one before, so I snatched it up off the ground and put it in my pocket. Then my mind wandered a bit to thoughts of the warm, joyous embrace that soon would be mine when I returned home and gave this special, one in one billion heart shaped rock the woman who has my heart. Ah, how romantic I am!




That evening was family night so I thought I'd parlay this into my share. When I start my share with, "So today at work I got something," The kids usually complete my sentence with, "a new quarter." But I not this time. Romeo removed from his pocket his amorous piece of aggregate. I looked over to my wife to present it to her. I didn’t get swooned like I had imagined. Instead I got, "I don't want that dirty rock in my house."



What? Where was the enamored reciprocation of affection? It was as if ice cold water was being poured on my heart. Just as my heart was about to break, the response came.



It did not come from my sweet wife, but my sweet three year old daughter. "Oh Daddy it's beautiful! Can I please have it?" My heart re-warmed. "Of course you can have it sweetheart, I got it for you!" She giggled as she took it and held it close to her heart.



That night was the start of something. The next day when I pulled into the drive my sweet little girl met me and greeted me with a big hug and asked, "What did you brought me for, Daddy".



What did I brought her for? What did I brought her for? I am a quick thinker so I pulled out of my pocket a piece of gum and with all the hype one could build gum up to be I gave it to her. She was just a thrilled with that as the rock for the day before. This became a ritual. Now, years later, it still continues. It may not be everyday, but at least three days a week she meets me at my truck and just as giddy as she was years ago asks if I brought her anything for her.



I cannot decide whether or not it's healthy, but it is fun to see her light up and get so excited over a gel pen, or a magnet, or a paper weight. So I guess I'll keep doing it.

The actual heart shaped rock. Cool huh?