Whenever my dad sees a couple in a store, carrying a child or pushing them in a grocery cart, he almost always stops them in their tracks to make the same comment, “Kids will change your life!” Even though some of those bewildered parents look back over their shoulder at the old guy walking away and wonder who that bearded man was, my dad doesn’t give a flyin’ flip–partly because he is 83 and mostly because he knows what he’s talking about. He raised 3 boys and was married for just short of 50 years before my mom, without warning, passed away 13 years ago.

Getting married and having kids are both an exercise in ignorance. Kind of like eating sausage: if we knew too much about the ingredients and how it was made, we probably wouldn’t partake. Marriage and parenting not only demands more from us than we originally thought but also gives us so much in return.

Brenda and I were married at Christmastime in 1985. We were so poor, the homeless felt sorry for us. We started out living in a one bedroom apartment and within a few months we found a charming little house to rent who’s owners knew Brenda since childhood. We had made the decision that we wanted kids and, vavoom, after 4 months of marriage, Josh was on the way. So many people thought we were crazy for starting so soon–especially since I was a freshman at Mobile College and we barely had a nickel to our name. Nevertheless, we blissfully took the challenge that was to become a lifetime commitment. Josh was born just a year and a month after our wedding day. We had to adjust our schedule to his as he demanded to eat, be washed, changed and paid attention to, all on his time–and he certainly took no consideration for our needs. We were all too happy to have Josh in our lives. A year and a month later, Betsy joyfully came into our lives.

Raising children is a blinding endeavor involving thousands of hours of minutiae. Their growing needs constantly shift our living patterns and challenge our patience. From the first step our children take on their own to the independence of riding a bike and staying over night at a friend’s house, they are slowly moving away from us. All of the baths, meals, clothes washing, playing, naps, kisses, bruises and cuts, living and learning are such a blur until you come come to a clearing and realize your kids have graduated from high school.

We just saw Toy Story 3 and related to the mom who looked at the recently vacated room of her son who was going away to college. She pondered the memories that hung like crayon drawings on the walls of their lives over the past 17 years and simply inhaled, lifted her shoulders and exhaled in silent lament. We spend our young years teaching our kids to live on their own and before we know it, we are on trial because it is our burden to let them go. Even though our kids left home 2 years ago to live on their own, we are still their mom and dad and forever will be looking out for their well being, albeit from a distance.

As Josh marries Amber in a few weeks, just like Betsy married Adam last year, Brenda and I will look forward to one day seeing our grandchildren being born into homes that, we are confident, will be full of love and nurture, just like ours has been. Kids will change your life and bring blessings that two ignorant newlyweds could never imagine.

I got tired of cutting away the weeds from around the broken-down lawn mower in my backyard. This has been happening for the past three seasons since my new mower has taken it’s place. Isn’t it funny how patient we can be with clutter and junk that piles up around us? In the case of the mower, and a derelict grill for that matter, it was time to find a proper site for burial.

Cable and satellite TV is littered (pun intended) with shows about clutter. From the fairly innocent pack-rat who has trouble throwing out uncle Ted’s clown figurine collection to the mentally/ emotionally challenged person who has to make a trail through the head-high collection of trash that fills their homes, junk seems to be an American obsession. My two favorite shows on TV revolve around junk (or treasure–depending on how much money you can squeeze out of it!). Pawn Stars (sorry, but that’s what it’s called) is about a pawn shop and the days in the life of the owners and family members. It is crazy the kind of money that folks can get for simple items that I would have no trouble tossing away. The other show is about antique dealers who scavenge people’s old barns and out buildings for hidden treasure called American Pickers. There is always a market for what we consider castaway items. For several years I have used Ebay to unload items that have some sort of marketability on the internet. Once I sold a collection of old magazines, for instance, that brought in enough money, less the expenses, to take my wife out for a nice steak dinner.

So, last Saturday, after I circled the dead lawn mower for the last time, I had a bright idea. I wheeled the poor thing out to the curb along with the old grill and made a sign that said, “Please take us! FREE!” As soon as I hammered the sign into the ground and turned around to go back into the house, a truck slowed down to read the sign. I hurriedly made my way to the door and quickly closed it behind me because I wouldn’t want to seem vulnerable at that point. Sure enough, the driver snatched up the grill and whisked it away to a new home. It wasn’t an hour later that another thrifty, young man saw the sad looking lawn mower and tucked it away in the back of his truck. Now, the sign was left standing alone, evidence of good, responsible recycling in action!

The backyard is finally rid of it’s clutter. To make room in our closet, I think my wife has her eye on setting both pairs of my beloved Croc sandals out on the curb for a stranger to nab. At least we have a sign ready to let the neighborhood know they are free for the taking.

When in a book store, my first move is toward the discount section. I have discovered treasure there at times. Two days ago, while visiting Books-A-Million, I found a cool little book called Why Do We Say It? for 7 bucks. In it there are a series of stories behind hundreds of words, expressions and cliches we use on a daily basis. Most of us have no idea where the words or phrases we are saying come from because of the unusual, convoluted history leading back to their origins. This book, by the way, is probably best qualified as “good bathroom reading”.

Nevertheless, my interest in etymology is piqued as I peruse the pages of this little yellow book of facts. For instance, the word “budget” comes from the French word meaning briefcase or leather bag that held the financial papers for the House of Commons in England. “Sour Grapes” comes from an old fable where a fox can’t get to the highest grapes on the vine and walks away saying, “Well, they’re sour grapes, anyway!” The word, “idiot” hasn’t always meant a mentally challenged person. Originally in Greek the term meant a private citizen who held no public office. It morphed over time into the meaning of one who couldn’t take part in public affairs (Wow, that’s exactly how some elected officials treat us common-folk after they are voted into office…like we’re idiots!).

Mixing metaphors is something that is quite common. Taking two or three pithy statements and merging them can bring about embarrassing consequences. We are oblivious to the origin of a saying and look silly when someone brings the resultant error to our attention. I have actually heard someone say, “He kicked a gift horse in the teeth.” In the movie Back To the Future, Biff eviscerates a common phrase when speaking to Marty McFly, “Why don’t you make like a tree, and get outta here!”

The English language can be so complex with it’s multiple rules and laws, making it almost impossible to get through even this blog without the spell/ grammar check lighting up and pointing it’s skinny, judgmental finger at my writing inadequacies. I choose to simply ignore the intimidation, make the changes and move on. The next time I use a metaphor, an expression or even a simple word, my little yellow book will remind me that there is probably a deep back-story behind it. I am best served to heed Abraham Lincoln’s advice when he said,

Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.

Brenda and I are in the midst of a much-needed diversion to the Smoky Mountains. We have a nice little hotel in the heart of Gatlinburg, TN…walking distance from a plethora of t-shirt shops, caramel corn and funnel cakes. For those who have never heard of this little vacation spot in the hills of east Tennessee, it is “state fair meets beautiful mountains”…a veritable playground of the middle-class and the unknown. Since the oil spill in the Gulf, we were thinking that the vacationers would re-route their plans from the beach to the mountains. At this point it seems Brenda and I won’t be trampled by crowds…yet.

Our favorite spot here is a little preserved pioneer community called Cade’s Cove, just over the hill from Gatlinburg. Sometime in the 1930s the government roped off this little valley protecting it from the ravages of progress. Going to the Cove is taking a trip back in time to the days when mountain people with English, Irish and Scottish roots populated Appalachia. Their handiwork is evident in the cabins, smokehouses, churches and mercantiles, necessary for survival in this then remote part of the world. The roads around the community are maintained as modern connections between homesteads and community buildings. The speed limit is so slow, grandma could probably keep up with her walker. But as soon as you get to a site, you must park your car and walk to it. In many cases, you can walk into the cabins and see the rough-hewn and hammered markings on the wood from more than a century ago. I love to put some cool music on in the car, creating a soundtrack that accompanies our trip around the pioneer community.

The other indulgence that we never miss while in Gatlinburg is visiting the many outlet malls that are strewn across the valley. It’s not like they don’t exist where we live. We just love to zig-zag in and out of each store until we tire and need to duck into a shady corner, regain our strength and start again. I have to say that I get relaxation from it all.

When families come here, they know that they can afford to splurge a little. It’s not like the rich and famous who take trips to Europe or Hawaii with their families. Those are the mega-vacations that most of us dream of and will probably never see. We can fill up the car with the kids and grandma, drive a couple of hours and spend a few days in this blue collar paradise. The reason folks flock here is because we can pretty much afford it. I hope that there will always be an affordable getaway here. The economy, as it has been and looks like it will continue to be for a while, is such that many families are taking “stay-cations” instead of vacations. I prefer to play it cheap and spend a few days in the Smokies amidst the sweet-scent of frying funnel cakes and the sweaty tourist who, just like me, are looking to recover our sanity before going back to our work-a-day worlds.

Last October Brenda, my brother Jon, his wife Beth and I went to Atlanta to see U2 in concert. It was the first time for each of us to see them. The are only a few bands and artists that I want to see live in my life and U2 was one of them. They are truly of my generation as Bono was born in 1960 just like me. Edge is the same age as my brother Jon, born in 1961.

I went to Best Buy last week to get the Blu-ray of the Los Angeles show from the 360 Tour that we attended (unfortunately, our show wasn’t on the disc). In the behind-the-scenes section of the DVD, a tech person who helped develop the unusual alien-like staging commented that in life most of us spend more time thinking about the future and the past than the present. He went on to say that concerts force us to live in the present. I agree. The beauty of entertainment is that it helps to suspend our logical mind and allows our imaginations to come out and play. Isn’t it interesting that we can be looking at a movie screen, a stage, or a television and be transported past the reality that we are looking at reflected light and be swallowed whole into the drama or performance? We become less aware of ourselves and disolve into the story or the music. To me that’s enjoying the moment. It is something that we don’t get enough of in our busy lives.

Bono sings a song on the DVD from the All That You Can’t Leave Behind CD called Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of. The chorus says:

Don’t say that later will be better now you’re stuck in a moment
And you can’t get out of it

My prayer is that I might learn to enjoy the “now” in my life. I can’t live in the delusion that tomorrow might be better. I don’t own tomorrow…but, I do have this moment. Brenda is here with me– we are stretched out, watching the U2 Blu-ray on our HDTV and the sound is phenomenal. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but right here, right now. There’s no better place to live than in the present.