Fall is upon us and the kids are back in school. The days are shorter, the schedules are stricter and summertime freedom is a recent memory that seems long ago.
In my mind’s annual passing of time, fall represents the most significant season of the year to implement change. My kids will be challenged with a new level of academic courses and athletic competition, while we all prepare for winter as the days become shorter and colder, and our lawns and landscapes drift in and out of dormancy.
I consider myself an idiot savant when it comes to raising my kids. I have this innate sense of when and how to react to their emotional, mental and physical needs without doing the work for them. I simply provide a balanced environment that allows them to fulfill their own potential and hopefully to become independent, self-sustaining adults who won’t be living at home when they are 30.
When it comes to taking care of my lawn I simply consider myself an idiot. There is nothing savant about the way that I have approached lawn care in the past.
So what would happen if we all used some of the same healthy techniques that we apply to raising our kids and used them on our lawns? Sound crazy? Let me explain.
I learned a long time ago that each of my three kids are very different and need to be raised with slightly modified approaches based on their individual needs. I now know how to handle my interactions with each of them and hopefully help them mature in an individual way that best fits their needs.
Finding out how to care for your lawn is not nearly as complex. While you may need outside help that costs $100 an hour to find out how to deal with your child’s personality, a simple soil test costing $10 to $15 through your local cooperative extension can tell you exactly what your lawn needs to be as healthy and self-sustaining as it can be.
Sometimes your kids will hang with people you feel are not good influences on their behavior. Don’t be fooled by what other people say about those kids. Get to know them and form your own opinion. If they still don’t pass your individual personality test don’t be afraid to weed them out!
The same goes for your lawn. If you like clover or other so called “weeds” that mass marketing campaigns from chemical companies have led us to believe are bad, then please, let them stay! If there is a plant that you don’t like your lawn hanging out with, you have every right to use an organic herbicide to get rid of it or pull it out by hand.
While my kids run cross country in the fall to improve their aerobic capacity, your lawn can breathe easier by aerating. Roots require oxygen to grow and absorb nutrients and water. Compaction reduces total pore space and the amount of air within the soil. Lawn aeration involves the removal of small soil plugs or cores out of the lawn allowing the roots to breathe and absorb nutrients. You can rent a lawn aerator from your local rental or hardware store. Have your kids do it. They’ll have fun and get some exercise.
New growth is important for all of us and especially for kids. I love introducing my kids to new experiences and ideas. Timing is important. The more open they are to the experience the more accepting they’ll be and they will learn more.
Fall is the perfect time for new growth on your lawn. Your lawn wakes up in the fall after those long, hot August days. The cool autumn allows new vitality and it is the perfect time to over seed.
Good healthy food will improve the growth and the productiveness of your kids. Your lawn is the same.
Our kids will inherit this earth. I believe that our generation is better informed in the parenting process and if we use this information we will raise strong, healthy proactive kids who will make this world a better place.
We can also make this world a better place by buying and using only organic products on our lawns. The long-term effect of chemical fertilizers can be harmful, not only to your lawn but also to your kids as they play on the lawn and to the environment as those chemicals run off into our waterways.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Empathy
This past July I had the fortunate experience to have a friend give me tickets to a Red Sox vs. Toronto Blue Jays game. These weren’t just any tickets. These were season tickets located half way down the first base line and 11 rows back.
The tickets created a wonderful opportunity for me to spend the afternoon and evening, one on one, with my son 15 year old son, Sam. It is amazing how much you can connect on a two and a half hour car ride. We talked about sports for most of the time but we also talked about life. I loved it.
As we approached Fenway Park the traffic was backed up. We had plenty of time before the game was to start but Sam wanted to see batting practice. At 15 he is old enough to venture out on his own. So I handed him his ticket and $20 and told him to get out and walk to the stadium. He loved it!
I finally found a place to park for the bargain basement price of $20 and I called Sam to see how the seats were. “They are awesome Dad!” I could hear the crowd in the background and the excitement in his voice. “Hey do you want your glove?” I asked. In the back of my mind I was thinking that it was a complete waste of time to bring it. An emphatic “Yes!” was Sam’s response.
I grabbed the glove and I worked my way through the crowd and into the stadium. There is just something about the energy of that type of crowd that is intoxicating and thrilling.
As I walked from inside the stadium and out to the seats I saw Sam sitting with his Italian sausage, huge drink, a scorebook and a big smile. He’d already spent the 20 bucks and we were ready to enjoy the game.
We settled in to watch Tim Wakefield throw his dancing knuckleball to the Toronto hitters. Toronto scored a run in the first inning on a sacrifice fly by Frank Thomas. After Thomas was retired Troy Glaus step to the plate. On Wakefield’s first pitch to him Glaus swung late and launch a tremendous foul ball in our direction. I watched the trajectory and in slow motion the crowd around Sam and I rose. I stayed seated as Sam jumped to his feet. From my angle I could see all kinds of hands outstretched as the ball continued on its flight. In the middle of all the hands I saw Sam’s brown glove reaching out to meet the ball. As with every great Disney movie, time seemed to stop and the ball slowly made its way back to earth. I heard a “thud” and as I was still looking up I saw the giant smile cross Sam’s face. He didn’t stand there and hold the ball aloft in victory, like I often see people do. He sheepishly sat down next to me and took a drink from he is giant coke.
From that point forward Sam sat intently watching the game and scoring it pitch by pitch in his score book. At the same time he kept his glove on, clutching his major league prize.
I got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get a beer and bring Sam food. Sam stayed seated as his diligently scored the game.
In the middle of the seventh inning we all stood for the traditional “stretch.” I was looking out to center field and Sammy was positioned on my left side. From the corner of my eye I saw the very large man who was seated in front of Sam suddenly lurch forward like someone was pushing him. As I turned to see what was happening I saw Sam’s seemingly lifeless body bounce off the back of the spectator and drop in a grotesquely limp pile into the aisle. For the second time in the same game, time stood still for me.
This time it wasn’t a Disney movie that I was in but a “troubling tragedy”. I moved in slow motion as my son’s body was sprawled in the aisle and quivering like an aneurism had just exploded in his brain.
I’ve never experienced a feeling like this and for the first time in a long time, I panicked. I began tugging on Sam’s arm trying to get him to move and come back to life. I knew I wasn’t doing the right thing but I just wanted to see Sam move his body on his own. As I turned him over I could see blood streaming from his forehead and drool dripping from his mouth.
This was the type of moment that no parent ever wants to deal with. I felt completely helpless and inept. Every terrible thought that I have ever thought screamed through my mind all at the same time.
Some of the other spectators tried to reach out and help as the tears swelled in my eyes. Suddenly Sam’s eyes opened and a look of complete bewilderment came across his face. He had no idea what had happened as he gathered himself and got to his feet. The medical staff had been alerted by someone and they came over to assist. When they asked Sam if he was o.k. he shyly said yes. When they asked if he needed medical help he said “no” and I aid “Yes!”
After I brief exam, a blood pressure check and decision that the incident was caused by sitting for a long time and suddenly standing up, Sam and I ventured back to our seats. I had a tough time enjoying the rest of the game as the Red Sox went on to win 7-4.
In the span of a few hours Sam and I had experienced an incredible high and a momentary, terrible low.
On the ride home Sam and I talked again. I pointed out to him that he was completely prepared to catch the foul ball from Troy Glaus and he put himself in position to have success because of it. On the other hand, sometimes life can suddenly take everything away from you when you least expect it just like Sam passing out in the middle of the game.
As much as the experience scared me to death it also reminded me of how close we all are to failure and tragedy. In a heartbeat each of us can have everything taken away.
The wonderful thing about the experience is that it also made me aware of why people do reach out and help each other, empathy. Those of us who are aware have empathy because we know how fragile life is for all of us. The beautiful thing is that empathy brings us together and makes us stronger as a society. I am a big fan of empathy.
The tickets created a wonderful opportunity for me to spend the afternoon and evening, one on one, with my son 15 year old son, Sam. It is amazing how much you can connect on a two and a half hour car ride. We talked about sports for most of the time but we also talked about life. I loved it.
As we approached Fenway Park the traffic was backed up. We had plenty of time before the game was to start but Sam wanted to see batting practice. At 15 he is old enough to venture out on his own. So I handed him his ticket and $20 and told him to get out and walk to the stadium. He loved it!
I finally found a place to park for the bargain basement price of $20 and I called Sam to see how the seats were. “They are awesome Dad!” I could hear the crowd in the background and the excitement in his voice. “Hey do you want your glove?” I asked. In the back of my mind I was thinking that it was a complete waste of time to bring it. An emphatic “Yes!” was Sam’s response.
I grabbed the glove and I worked my way through the crowd and into the stadium. There is just something about the energy of that type of crowd that is intoxicating and thrilling.
As I walked from inside the stadium and out to the seats I saw Sam sitting with his Italian sausage, huge drink, a scorebook and a big smile. He’d already spent the 20 bucks and we were ready to enjoy the game.
We settled in to watch Tim Wakefield throw his dancing knuckleball to the Toronto hitters. Toronto scored a run in the first inning on a sacrifice fly by Frank Thomas. After Thomas was retired Troy Glaus step to the plate. On Wakefield’s first pitch to him Glaus swung late and launch a tremendous foul ball in our direction. I watched the trajectory and in slow motion the crowd around Sam and I rose. I stayed seated as Sam jumped to his feet. From my angle I could see all kinds of hands outstretched as the ball continued on its flight. In the middle of all the hands I saw Sam’s brown glove reaching out to meet the ball. As with every great Disney movie, time seemed to stop and the ball slowly made its way back to earth. I heard a “thud” and as I was still looking up I saw the giant smile cross Sam’s face. He didn’t stand there and hold the ball aloft in victory, like I often see people do. He sheepishly sat down next to me and took a drink from he is giant coke.
From that point forward Sam sat intently watching the game and scoring it pitch by pitch in his score book. At the same time he kept his glove on, clutching his major league prize.
I got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get a beer and bring Sam food. Sam stayed seated as his diligently scored the game.
In the middle of the seventh inning we all stood for the traditional “stretch.” I was looking out to center field and Sammy was positioned on my left side. From the corner of my eye I saw the very large man who was seated in front of Sam suddenly lurch forward like someone was pushing him. As I turned to see what was happening I saw Sam’s seemingly lifeless body bounce off the back of the spectator and drop in a grotesquely limp pile into the aisle. For the second time in the same game, time stood still for me.
This time it wasn’t a Disney movie that I was in but a “troubling tragedy”. I moved in slow motion as my son’s body was sprawled in the aisle and quivering like an aneurism had just exploded in his brain.
I’ve never experienced a feeling like this and for the first time in a long time, I panicked. I began tugging on Sam’s arm trying to get him to move and come back to life. I knew I wasn’t doing the right thing but I just wanted to see Sam move his body on his own. As I turned him over I could see blood streaming from his forehead and drool dripping from his mouth.
This was the type of moment that no parent ever wants to deal with. I felt completely helpless and inept. Every terrible thought that I have ever thought screamed through my mind all at the same time.
Some of the other spectators tried to reach out and help as the tears swelled in my eyes. Suddenly Sam’s eyes opened and a look of complete bewilderment came across his face. He had no idea what had happened as he gathered himself and got to his feet. The medical staff had been alerted by someone and they came over to assist. When they asked Sam if he was o.k. he shyly said yes. When they asked if he needed medical help he said “no” and I aid “Yes!”
After I brief exam, a blood pressure check and decision that the incident was caused by sitting for a long time and suddenly standing up, Sam and I ventured back to our seats. I had a tough time enjoying the rest of the game as the Red Sox went on to win 7-4.
In the span of a few hours Sam and I had experienced an incredible high and a momentary, terrible low.
On the ride home Sam and I talked again. I pointed out to him that he was completely prepared to catch the foul ball from Troy Glaus and he put himself in position to have success because of it. On the other hand, sometimes life can suddenly take everything away from you when you least expect it just like Sam passing out in the middle of the game.
As much as the experience scared me to death it also reminded me of how close we all are to failure and tragedy. In a heartbeat each of us can have everything taken away.
The wonderful thing about the experience is that it also made me aware of why people do reach out and help each other, empathy. Those of us who are aware have empathy because we know how fragile life is for all of us. The beautiful thing is that empathy brings us together and makes us stronger as a society. I am a big fan of empathy.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Something Positive Again
Something Positive
Over the last eight years at least one of my children has competed in cross country at Falmouth High School. On August 29th they participated in their first meet of the season, the Chandler Relays at Twin Brooks in Cumberland. This meet is hosted by Greely High School and all the area teams participate, as well as teams that Falmouth wouldn’t normally run against.
As I left work to get to the meet by 4 pm my mind was full of unfinished details and stress. Like most of us in today’s world, I was on my mobile phone doing business until I turned into the Twin Brooks facility. As I looked out on the expanse of fields, the stress began to leave my body. Buses and cars lined the sides of the fields and runners stretched, jog and laughed. There were hundreds of them encompassing almost the entire field area.
After I parked my car I proceeded toward the start of the relay races and began a 2 hour social ritual that is better than any amount of psychological therapy could ever be. Every few minutes I would stop to catch up with a child, parent or friend that I had not seen for awhile and the all had one thing in common………..a smile.
The intriguing part of being a spectator at a cross country meet is that as the event unfolds you get to move throughout the course while each runner gives their best effort and everyone is cheering and encouraging all the runners. Some of the most thunderous applause is given to a runner back in the pack who is giving the same effort as the runner who wins the race. The spectators work together as they move from place to place and the collective camaraderie and shared experience is always exhilarating for me.
It is amazing to watch each child work so hard, experience physical pain and exhaustion. And then recover and feel a great since of satisfaction and contentment with an eye on understanding how to improve and do better in the next race.
To me it is simply learning about the ups and downs of life in a safe and positive environment that allows each athlete to compete in every event while understanding that it is the work that they do on their own that will truly lead to success and happiness.
If you ever need a positive boost I would encourage you to look up the time and location of your local school’s next cross country meet. The positive energy will help you to accomplish things you didn’t think were possible. The experience will also reassure you that we are teaching these kids good techniques to deal with life and someday be leaders with ability to take care of themselves and work with others to make this world a better place
Over the last eight years at least one of my children has competed in cross country at Falmouth High School. On August 29th they participated in their first meet of the season, the Chandler Relays at Twin Brooks in Cumberland. This meet is hosted by Greely High School and all the area teams participate, as well as teams that Falmouth wouldn’t normally run against.
As I left work to get to the meet by 4 pm my mind was full of unfinished details and stress. Like most of us in today’s world, I was on my mobile phone doing business until I turned into the Twin Brooks facility. As I looked out on the expanse of fields, the stress began to leave my body. Buses and cars lined the sides of the fields and runners stretched, jog and laughed. There were hundreds of them encompassing almost the entire field area.
After I parked my car I proceeded toward the start of the relay races and began a 2 hour social ritual that is better than any amount of psychological therapy could ever be. Every few minutes I would stop to catch up with a child, parent or friend that I had not seen for awhile and the all had one thing in common………..a smile.
The intriguing part of being a spectator at a cross country meet is that as the event unfolds you get to move throughout the course while each runner gives their best effort and everyone is cheering and encouraging all the runners. Some of the most thunderous applause is given to a runner back in the pack who is giving the same effort as the runner who wins the race. The spectators work together as they move from place to place and the collective camaraderie and shared experience is always exhilarating for me.
It is amazing to watch each child work so hard, experience physical pain and exhaustion. And then recover and feel a great since of satisfaction and contentment with an eye on understanding how to improve and do better in the next race.
To me it is simply learning about the ups and downs of life in a safe and positive environment that allows each athlete to compete in every event while understanding that it is the work that they do on their own that will truly lead to success and happiness.
If you ever need a positive boost I would encourage you to look up the time and location of your local school’s next cross country meet. The positive energy will help you to accomplish things you didn’t think were possible. The experience will also reassure you that we are teaching these kids good techniques to deal with life and someday be leaders with ability to take care of themselves and work with others to make this world a better place
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Rust on the radiator
Back in the spring of 1999 I moved into a new house in an upscale neighborhood. The house had been built in 1997 and everything had been repainted right before we moved in. It was pristine and perfect on the inside and the outside.
For the first time ever I had a master bathroom off of the master bedroom. Actually, I had never had what would have qualified as a master bedroom before, just one of the rooms of a 2 bedroom ranch.
In the master bathroom, next to the toilet, the sparkling and newly painted radiator ran along the wall. In the winter time it gave great warmth and comfort as I would sit and read. The downside of the radiator's location was that it was simply too close to the toilet bowl. With 2 young boys, who had a penchant to spray where they wanted and the occasional two streamer of my own, the radiator was a prime target for the caustic effect of urine spray. Now, as an adult, I don’t want you to think that I would spray and leave like a male cat marking its territory. I would simply be less than honest to say that I was perfect in this process when I would stumble into the bathroom at 3 am after a robust night with friends.
What happened over time was that the radiator began to rust. If the effort had been made to simply wipe off the spray the rust would never have occurred.
The same thing happens in our lives away from the toilet. How many times have you had someone say something or do something that hurt you and you let it fester into something much bigger than the initial words or actions because they never apologized and took responsibility for their actions?
I have done this several times in my life. I have been guilty of holding on to something that someone has said that I took in a negative way and letting it grow into some rusty, emotional monster.
On the other side of the urinal I am sure that I have made the same mistake without realizing what I have said or done just like those late nights, stumbling into the bathroom.
So here is what I try to do when I get in the way of someone’s emotional spray. I listen and wait. I try not to react in anger because reacting in anger has never had a positive outcome for me. In a calm and systematic way I express my feelings without the expectation that the person is going to pick up that symbolic bottle of Clorox Cleanup and wipe away their corrosive remarks or actions.
If no response is forthcoming I pick up the bottle myself, spray and wipe away the hurt and flush it down the toilet. After I’ve done that, everything smells better and I feel relieved and ready to move forward knowing that my personal radiator won’t rust and I won’t dwell on something that will take away from my personal happiness.
For the first time ever I had a master bathroom off of the master bedroom. Actually, I had never had what would have qualified as a master bedroom before, just one of the rooms of a 2 bedroom ranch.
In the master bathroom, next to the toilet, the sparkling and newly painted radiator ran along the wall. In the winter time it gave great warmth and comfort as I would sit and read. The downside of the radiator's location was that it was simply too close to the toilet bowl. With 2 young boys, who had a penchant to spray where they wanted and the occasional two streamer of my own, the radiator was a prime target for the caustic effect of urine spray. Now, as an adult, I don’t want you to think that I would spray and leave like a male cat marking its territory. I would simply be less than honest to say that I was perfect in this process when I would stumble into the bathroom at 3 am after a robust night with friends.
What happened over time was that the radiator began to rust. If the effort had been made to simply wipe off the spray the rust would never have occurred.
The same thing happens in our lives away from the toilet. How many times have you had someone say something or do something that hurt you and you let it fester into something much bigger than the initial words or actions because they never apologized and took responsibility for their actions?
I have done this several times in my life. I have been guilty of holding on to something that someone has said that I took in a negative way and letting it grow into some rusty, emotional monster.
On the other side of the urinal I am sure that I have made the same mistake without realizing what I have said or done just like those late nights, stumbling into the bathroom.
So here is what I try to do when I get in the way of someone’s emotional spray. I listen and wait. I try not to react in anger because reacting in anger has never had a positive outcome for me. In a calm and systematic way I express my feelings without the expectation that the person is going to pick up that symbolic bottle of Clorox Cleanup and wipe away their corrosive remarks or actions.
If no response is forthcoming I pick up the bottle myself, spray and wipe away the hurt and flush it down the toilet. After I’ve done that, everything smells better and I feel relieved and ready to move forward knowing that my personal radiator won’t rust and I won’t dwell on something that will take away from my personal happiness.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Being Yourself.
Several months ago I moved from a large house with a beautiful yard to a small apartment in a large apartment complex in the same town. It was an adjustment for my kids. We don’t have the privacy that we once had and you can often hear the neighbors running up and down their stairs and talking. I’m sure they’ve overheard several moments of enthusiasm and an occasional moment of stress coming from our apartment.
On the day of the Red Sox home opener my son asked if I would pick him up from school so that he could come home to watch the game. After negotiating with him to stay after for physics to make sure that he was all caught up I aquiest and picked him up from school after the game had already started.
When we returned to the apartment Sam immediately took off his pants, grabbed a snack and lay down on the couch wearing his boxers, t-shirt and socks. I had to leave to take my daughter to a friend’s house and I reminded Sam that he could not just lie there all afternoon. I expected him to get some exercise even if he just went outside and swung his baseball bat 100 times.
I gave my daughter her ride and upon my return, as I crested the hill heading to our apartment I could see Sam off in the distance swinging his bat…still dressed only in his boxer shorts , t-shirt and socks. He was concentrating on his form on each swing never caring or thinking about what he was or wasn’t wearing.
I laughed out loud and then I left him alone to keep swinging. I realized that my 14 year old son had done exactly what I asked him to do.
Right now he has the innocence of youth on his side and a comfort with who he is. I hope he keeps it as long as possible.
On the day of the Red Sox home opener my son asked if I would pick him up from school so that he could come home to watch the game. After negotiating with him to stay after for physics to make sure that he was all caught up I aquiest and picked him up from school after the game had already started.
When we returned to the apartment Sam immediately took off his pants, grabbed a snack and lay down on the couch wearing his boxers, t-shirt and socks. I had to leave to take my daughter to a friend’s house and I reminded Sam that he could not just lie there all afternoon. I expected him to get some exercise even if he just went outside and swung his baseball bat 100 times.
I gave my daughter her ride and upon my return, as I crested the hill heading to our apartment I could see Sam off in the distance swinging his bat…still dressed only in his boxer shorts , t-shirt and socks. He was concentrating on his form on each swing never caring or thinking about what he was or wasn’t wearing.
I laughed out loud and then I left him alone to keep swinging. I realized that my 14 year old son had done exactly what I asked him to do.
Right now he has the innocence of youth on his side and a comfort with who he is. I hope he keeps it as long as possible.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Rutgers and Imus
I watched a segment of the national news tonight about the Rutgers women’s basketball team and the racist comments made about those young women by radio host Don Imus. I was impressed with coach C. Vivian Stringer, who said that she would listen to Imus and his explanations for his comments with an open heart when she meets with him privately.
Right after the news I left to pick up my 17 year old daughter as she celebrated her birthday with 8 or 9 of her friends and track team teammates in an upscale, Anglo Saxon neighborhood.
As I entered the beautiful house where her party was taking place I heard an eruption of laughter and I walked into a room full of beautiful, talented and bright young women who all care deeply for each other. The sharing and camaraderie in the room was palpable and suddenly I got tears in my eyes.
What if some radio host was making derogatory comments about the girls on our high school’s track team? What would my daughter and her wonderful friends feel about it and how would I feel?
I thought back again to C. Vivian Stringer’s thoughts of forgiveness and her feeling that if we absorb this and truly think about how these comments impact all of us then we can begin to change.
Imus has risen to fame and fortune by being outrageous and picking on people. I have often laughed at the things his has said. I will think deeply before I listen too and laugh at Imus in the future. My hope is that Imus will change his behavior and become a leader in helping us all to support each other and become stronger as a nation.
Right after the news I left to pick up my 17 year old daughter as she celebrated her birthday with 8 or 9 of her friends and track team teammates in an upscale, Anglo Saxon neighborhood.
As I entered the beautiful house where her party was taking place I heard an eruption of laughter and I walked into a room full of beautiful, talented and bright young women who all care deeply for each other. The sharing and camaraderie in the room was palpable and suddenly I got tears in my eyes.
What if some radio host was making derogatory comments about the girls on our high school’s track team? What would my daughter and her wonderful friends feel about it and how would I feel?
I thought back again to C. Vivian Stringer’s thoughts of forgiveness and her feeling that if we absorb this and truly think about how these comments impact all of us then we can begin to change.
Imus has risen to fame and fortune by being outrageous and picking on people. I have often laughed at the things his has said. I will think deeply before I listen too and laugh at Imus in the future. My hope is that Imus will change his behavior and become a leader in helping us all to support each other and become stronger as a nation.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Inspirational Daughter
Today was my daughter Kourtney’s 17th birthday. She inspires me. Not because of some gigantic accomplishment that she has had in her life but simply because of the person that she is day in and day out.
We had a great day and at the end we went out to dinner. We got into a discussion in regard to one of her friends whose parents are going through a divorce and how tough it has been on her friend and how she worries about her friend.
Now, that is a normal reaction for any kid who has a friend whose parent are going through a divorce. The difference with Kourtney is that her mother and I have been going through a divorce and she never complains. She has certainly expressed her concern but she has been remarkable in her attitude throughout the whole process.
I have copied a letter she wrote for a class that she is currently taking called “Reading, writing and running”. It will give you a sense of who she is and why she inspires me.
Kourtney Bonsey
2-4-07
Running
Running: it’s a passion, a sport, a hobby, a battle. It’s what some people find crazy and what others find beautiful. Maybe runners are crazy from all the running they do. Or maybe it’s that others don’t understand the beauty of the sport; the beauty of pain, hard work, rhythm and competition. Most of us don’t know why we run, that’s the beauty of running.
I can’t remember the day I decided to run. I’m sure it started when my parents stuck me in striders because my brother had done it, but now running has become something more than just an activity. It’s a passion. It’s a fire burning deep within. I often hear the question “why do you run?” usually asked by one of my classmates who has never run before and couldn’t possibly imagine running the dreaded 1 mile in gym class. I’m not sure why I run. It’s one of the questions I love not having an answer to. I could say I do it for the long runs, the team or the competition. It’s much more than that though. Running is something I do and something I’ve always done. Running has always been something I do without questioning. Most people don’t understand why human beings love a sport that puts you through so much pain through out the entire race. The thing is, I don’t remember the pain of racing. I feel it during the race and immediately after, but then it’s completely forgotten. Then there is the pain of a speed workout. This is the pain I love. This is the pain that I know is making me stronger.
My love for running doesn’t come from just the training and the competing, it’s also the team. Of course I’d still be enjoying the sport if it wasn’t for the team aspect, but probably not as much. My team has always been a major part of why I run. It’s the bus rides to meets when we’re singing “Like a Prayer” at the top of our lungs at seven in the morning when everyone else is trying to sleep. It’s the comfort I feel from my teammates after every race. They are there patting me on the back and telling me “great race”. It’s something about the team that adds to much character to the sport.
Running can be frustrating, but an achievement at the same time. The feeling of breaking a personal record by ten seconds is something words can’t describe. Watching my brother run a 4:04 mile is a motivation to me. This accomplishment for him is as much an accomplishment for me. Watching that race made me want to be a better runner, to work harder and to achieve more. For me, I don’t have to know why I run to love this sport. All I know is that I’m crazy about it and that’s all that matters to me.
We had a great day and at the end we went out to dinner. We got into a discussion in regard to one of her friends whose parents are going through a divorce and how tough it has been on her friend and how she worries about her friend.
Now, that is a normal reaction for any kid who has a friend whose parent are going through a divorce. The difference with Kourtney is that her mother and I have been going through a divorce and she never complains. She has certainly expressed her concern but she has been remarkable in her attitude throughout the whole process.
I have copied a letter she wrote for a class that she is currently taking called “Reading, writing and running”. It will give you a sense of who she is and why she inspires me.
Kourtney Bonsey2-4-07
Running
Running: it’s a passion, a sport, a hobby, a battle. It’s what some people find crazy and what others find beautiful. Maybe runners are crazy from all the running they do. Or maybe it’s that others don’t understand the beauty of the sport; the beauty of pain, hard work, rhythm and competition. Most of us don’t know why we run, that’s the beauty of running.
I can’t remember the day I decided to run. I’m sure it started when my parents stuck me in striders because my brother had done it, but now running has become something more than just an activity. It’s a passion. It’s a fire burning deep within. I often hear the question “why do you run?” usually asked by one of my classmates who has never run before and couldn’t possibly imagine running the dreaded 1 mile in gym class. I’m not sure why I run. It’s one of the questions I love not having an answer to. I could say I do it for the long runs, the team or the competition. It’s much more than that though. Running is something I do and something I’ve always done. Running has always been something I do without questioning. Most people don’t understand why human beings love a sport that puts you through so much pain through out the entire race. The thing is, I don’t remember the pain of racing. I feel it during the race and immediately after, but then it’s completely forgotten. Then there is the pain of a speed workout. This is the pain I love. This is the pain that I know is making me stronger.
My love for running doesn’t come from just the training and the competing, it’s also the team. Of course I’d still be enjoying the sport if it wasn’t for the team aspect, but probably not as much. My team has always been a major part of why I run. It’s the bus rides to meets when we’re singing “Like a Prayer” at the top of our lungs at seven in the morning when everyone else is trying to sleep. It’s the comfort I feel from my teammates after every race. They are there patting me on the back and telling me “great race”. It’s something about the team that adds to much character to the sport.
Running can be frustrating, but an achievement at the same time. The feeling of breaking a personal record by ten seconds is something words can’t describe. Watching my brother run a 4:04 mile is a motivation to me. This accomplishment for him is as much an accomplishment for me. Watching that race made me want to be a better runner, to work harder and to achieve more. For me, I don’t have to know why I run to love this sport. All I know is that I’m crazy about it and that’s all that matters to me.
Friday, April 6, 2007
The Lawn Athiest
Spring is here and talk of global warming continues to heat up while the subject of organic lawn care is a hot one. Even if you have never gardened you have probably pushed a lawn mower at some point in your life and you certainly walk on lawns, play on lawns and watch children play on lawns on a regular basis.
I have never been a gardener and I have never been into taking care of my lawn. The first house that I purchased, after all 3 of my children were born, had a perfect rectangular backyard that could facilitate play. That was the main reason that I purchased the house.
The landscaping around the house was immaculate and diverse with many spectacular plants that bloomed at different points throughout the year. The man who owned the house before us loved horticulture and was passionate about the care of the plants and their botanical names. I remember feeling like I was sleepwalking as he took me on a tour around the house to extrapolate endlessly on the virtues and care of each plant. I was simply looking at the backyard as a potential sandlot for the neighborhood kids to play in.
After we closed on the house I found plenty of chemical fertilizers and pesticides in the garage. No wonder the plants looked so good! I didn’t use them much, not because of some philosophical commitment to the environment but simply because I viewed my yard as a play ground. The bare spots and brown grass were simply evidence of the hours of exercise, team building and imagination that my kids and the neighborhood kids were experiencing on my lawn.
It reminded me of my own childhood when everyone’s lawn was imperfect because every kid in the neighborhood was running across them all the time. We would have games of hide and seek that would incorporate 8 to 10 lawns on our neighborhood and nobody seemed to complain about the paths that we wore into their lawns.
In 1999 my wife and I decided to purchase a new house in an upscale private golf course community. I hated leaving our old house but it was small and we needed more room.
I remember moving in and noticing the spacious yards, with immaculate lawns and no kids playing on them. I immediately installed the basketball hoop and the swing set but the yard did not have the quaint appeal or the manpower to host the robust pickup games that my kids participated in at our old house.
The yard at the new house was much bigger, with over an acre of lawn to maintain. While most of my neighbors hired lawn care professionals my wife and I took care of our own lawn and landscaping. It certainly didn’t have the weed less green of the neighboring lawns but it worked fine for playing pass with my kids or kicking a soccer ball with them at night when I got home.
That spring a friend convinced me that I should try organic compost on my lawn. It seemed like a good thing to do so I had a local company deliver a truck load and dump it in my driveway and I began the long process of spreading it by hand. This took a long time as I would spread it one section at a time between work and playing with the kids. The lawn greened up very quickly in those sections. The problem was that the homeowner’s association had strict timelines for piles of anything that were left around a house. I received my notification and a visit from the community representative warning me to get the compost spread or face fines. I got the rest of the compost spread but I never ordered more because it would simply take too long and I could barely afford the homeowners association fees let alone the fines!
A couple of years after the compost experience I was hired by the same friend who recommended the compost, to produce a television show based on a magazine that he had started years before. Suddenly I was surrounded by these crazy, passionate people who talk about plants and plant care the way that I talk about kids. I barely understood anything they said but they were always entertaining to be around.
What fascinated me was how little I picked up in regard to horticulture. I still can’t tell a daffodil from a daisy and my eyes glaze over when some starts waxing poetic over the many derivatives of a particular plant species.
The only things that really connected with me were the times when the show covered an organic solution or practice in plant care, landscaping and lawn care. It just made sense to me that elements that the earth had used for millions of years to rejuvenate itself and keep itself in balance would still work today without leaving a negative footprint.
After producing 46 episodes of the show and having it air on HGTV my friend decided to write a book on organic lawn care. Months into writing the book he came into my office and said, “There should be a non-profit organization to teach people how to take care of their lawns organically and give them the educational and product resources that they need to do it.” I thought to myself, “Wow, he’s asking me for feedback on a horticultural idea. Maybe I’ve been transported to some parallel, opposite dimension.”
My gut reaction was, “Yeah, that makes sense.”
Over a year later, I am the Director of Development for SafeLawns.org. Our website is up and running and we are having great success in attracting attention to organic lawn care and building SafeLawns.org into a trusted resource to help anyone make a transition that is good for kids, pets and the environment.
I would like to personally invite you to visit SafeLawns.org. It will be well worth your time. Whether you are a horticultural nut or just an average lawn mower you will find the answer to your questions and find out that organic lawn care is possible and easier than you think.
If SafeLawns.org is successful maybe we’ll see groups of kids playing in neighborhoods and wearing brown paths into lawns again. If you don’t like that maybe you’ll feel good that kids could play on your lawn and still be safe while the environment will enjoy another step of protection because of your actions.
I have never been a gardener and I have never been into taking care of my lawn. The first house that I purchased, after all 3 of my children were born, had a perfect rectangular backyard that could facilitate play. That was the main reason that I purchased the house.
The landscaping around the house was immaculate and diverse with many spectacular plants that bloomed at different points throughout the year. The man who owned the house before us loved horticulture and was passionate about the care of the plants and their botanical names. I remember feeling like I was sleepwalking as he took me on a tour around the house to extrapolate endlessly on the virtues and care of each plant. I was simply looking at the backyard as a potential sandlot for the neighborhood kids to play in.
After we closed on the house I found plenty of chemical fertilizers and pesticides in the garage. No wonder the plants looked so good! I didn’t use them much, not because of some philosophical commitment to the environment but simply because I viewed my yard as a play ground. The bare spots and brown grass were simply evidence of the hours of exercise, team building and imagination that my kids and the neighborhood kids were experiencing on my lawn.
It reminded me of my own childhood when everyone’s lawn was imperfect because every kid in the neighborhood was running across them all the time. We would have games of hide and seek that would incorporate 8 to 10 lawns on our neighborhood and nobody seemed to complain about the paths that we wore into their lawns.
In 1999 my wife and I decided to purchase a new house in an upscale private golf course community. I hated leaving our old house but it was small and we needed more room.
I remember moving in and noticing the spacious yards, with immaculate lawns and no kids playing on them. I immediately installed the basketball hoop and the swing set but the yard did not have the quaint appeal or the manpower to host the robust pickup games that my kids participated in at our old house.
The yard at the new house was much bigger, with over an acre of lawn to maintain. While most of my neighbors hired lawn care professionals my wife and I took care of our own lawn and landscaping. It certainly didn’t have the weed less green of the neighboring lawns but it worked fine for playing pass with my kids or kicking a soccer ball with them at night when I got home.
That spring a friend convinced me that I should try organic compost on my lawn. It seemed like a good thing to do so I had a local company deliver a truck load and dump it in my driveway and I began the long process of spreading it by hand. This took a long time as I would spread it one section at a time between work and playing with the kids. The lawn greened up very quickly in those sections. The problem was that the homeowner’s association had strict timelines for piles of anything that were left around a house. I received my notification and a visit from the community representative warning me to get the compost spread or face fines. I got the rest of the compost spread but I never ordered more because it would simply take too long and I could barely afford the homeowners association fees let alone the fines!
A couple of years after the compost experience I was hired by the same friend who recommended the compost, to produce a television show based on a magazine that he had started years before. Suddenly I was surrounded by these crazy, passionate people who talk about plants and plant care the way that I talk about kids. I barely understood anything they said but they were always entertaining to be around.
What fascinated me was how little I picked up in regard to horticulture. I still can’t tell a daffodil from a daisy and my eyes glaze over when some starts waxing poetic over the many derivatives of a particular plant species.
The only things that really connected with me were the times when the show covered an organic solution or practice in plant care, landscaping and lawn care. It just made sense to me that elements that the earth had used for millions of years to rejuvenate itself and keep itself in balance would still work today without leaving a negative footprint.
After producing 46 episodes of the show and having it air on HGTV my friend decided to write a book on organic lawn care. Months into writing the book he came into my office and said, “There should be a non-profit organization to teach people how to take care of their lawns organically and give them the educational and product resources that they need to do it.” I thought to myself, “Wow, he’s asking me for feedback on a horticultural idea. Maybe I’ve been transported to some parallel, opposite dimension.”
My gut reaction was, “Yeah, that makes sense.”
Over a year later, I am the Director of Development for SafeLawns.org. Our website is up and running and we are having great success in attracting attention to organic lawn care and building SafeLawns.org into a trusted resource to help anyone make a transition that is good for kids, pets and the environment.
I would like to personally invite you to visit SafeLawns.org. It will be well worth your time. Whether you are a horticultural nut or just an average lawn mower you will find the answer to your questions and find out that organic lawn care is possible and easier than you think.
If SafeLawns.org is successful maybe we’ll see groups of kids playing in neighborhoods and wearing brown paths into lawns again. If you don’t like that maybe you’ll feel good that kids could play on your lawn and still be safe while the environment will enjoy another step of protection because of your actions.
Something Positive
Have you ever had a moment that you wish everyone could experience for themselves? Something positive that lets you know that many things are good in this world and that the future is in good hands with the next generation?
I have those experiences frequently and recently I witnessed an event involving my youngest child, Sam, who is 14 years old and a freshman in high school.
Sam is a kind and unique kid who has an innate ability to make people feel good and laugh. His observations in life are honest, offbeat and funny. He has been raised in a family of slim, nimble parents and siblings, who love to run, while his body is wide, powerful and not quite so nimble. This hasn’t been easy for Sam as there have been many nights at the supper table when he would shout, “Can’t we just stop talking about running!”
With his body type everyone thought that Sam should tryout for the football team. Sam had played youth football and simply didn’t enjoy it. His athletic passions are basketball and baseball. He has an accurate shot with a very light touch in basketball and a strong arm with great location in baseball.
As the new school year approached I began the process of encouraging Sam to run cross country to help with his improvement in basketball and baseball. He knew all the kids on the team because his older brother ran when he was in high school and his sister currently competes for the team and is consistently among the top five scorers. The kids on the team treat each other with great respect, encouragement and kindness and this atmosphere is heavily reinforced by the coaches.
Just before pre-season was about to begin Sam approached me and suggested that I simply give him the workouts to do and he would workout on his own. I certainly have the knowledge base to do that but for the first time I forced one of my kids to play a particular sport. I told Sam that working out with other kids would be much more enjoyable and I knew he would be much more consistent in his training and would get much better results. He was fine with the decision. From the very first day of practice he was always ready to go. When I picked him up at the end of practice he always had a smile on his face. His body began to change and although he was the slowest runner on the team it was clear that he had a big, strong heart.
Sam always enjoyed the races and he was very concerned with his own improvement. He made steady progress as the season went along but because the cross country courses very from school to school it was hard to tell how much faster he was actually getting. I asked him if he wanted me to time him in the mile. His personal best time or personal record in the mile before the season started was 9:48. I told him I thought he could break 9 minutes so we went up to the high school track and I timed and encouraged him as he worked his way around the quarter mile oval. To my surprise he ran the mile in 8:22. I told him I knew he could break 8 minutes by the end of the season and a fire was lit in Sam’s belly.
Two weeks later he spent the weekend with his older brother, Brandon, at Georgetown
University. Brandon runs for Georgetown and on that Saturday he got some of his teammates together to cheer for Sam in his quest for the 8 minute mile. He came up short but he showed tremendous improvement with an 8:08 effort.
As the season began to wind down Sammy ran his last junior varsity race in the conference championship. His improvement from the beginning of the season on the same course was 5:18. He could have stopped training at that point but like most of the kids on the cross country team he was hooked on the uplifting feeling of exercise and the camaraderie of the team. He loved hanging with his teammates and it certainly didn’t hurt that many of his teammates were attractive young women.
One last time Sam and I headed to the high school track on a Sunday to break the magical 8 minute barrier. Roger Bannister never had as much focus. I paced him through the first half-mile in 4:00 and then moved off the track to cheer. As he came down the final stretch, with his teeth clenched and his face red, it was clear that he was close. I hit the watch as he crossed the line and collapsed in a gasping heap. I slowly looked down to reveal the time…8:00.32! So close! Sam was disappointed but he was happy with the improvement and he immediately began to talk about trying to do it again the following week.
I emailed his cross country coaches and asked if he could try to break 8 minutes at one of the practices with the other kids around. They loved the idea and set a day and time for Sam’s quest. They also gave him workouts designed to specifically improve his mile time.
When the day arrived Sam made sure that he had everything set to go. His mood was light and happy when I dropped him off at school and I told him I’d leave work to come watch him run at 3 pm. As 3 pm approached I predictably received several last minute calls and I got a late start on my way to the school. When I arrived at the track Sam was already running. I stepped out of my car to hear the thunderous cheering of his teammates. It stunned me as I looked around and saw the entire cross country team holding handmade signs, beating on drums and yelling encouragement at the top of their young lungs. The tears in my eyes came immediately as I watched Sam’s stride grow stronger with each word of encouragement and every beat of the drum. Coming down the final stretch he made his push to the finish and crossed the line in 7:37. His teammates were wonderful as their cheers grew even louder and anyone watching would have thought that Sam had just won a state championship himself. Sam was so emotionally lifted by the support of his team I think he could have run another 7:37 mile right then.
Sam never could have reached his goal without the support of his teammates and coaches. The effort they showed in making signs and outwardly encouraging Sam tells me a lot about this group of kids and their generation. They are good to each other and they know how to work as a team. The future looks bright when I see it through Sam’s eyes. I hope every child gets a chance to have the same view.
I have those experiences frequently and recently I witnessed an event involving my youngest child, Sam, who is 14 years old and a freshman in high school.
Sam is a kind and unique kid who has an innate ability to make people feel good and laugh. His observations in life are honest, offbeat and funny. He has been raised in a family of slim, nimble parents and siblings, who love to run, while his body is wide, powerful and not quite so nimble. This hasn’t been easy for Sam as there have been many nights at the supper table when he would shout, “Can’t we just stop talking about running!”
With his body type everyone thought that Sam should tryout for the football team. Sam had played youth football and simply didn’t enjoy it. His athletic passions are basketball and baseball. He has an accurate shot with a very light touch in basketball and a strong arm with great location in baseball.
As the new school year approached I began the process of encouraging Sam to run cross country to help with his improvement in basketball and baseball. He knew all the kids on the team because his older brother ran when he was in high school and his sister currently competes for the team and is consistently among the top five scorers. The kids on the team treat each other with great respect, encouragement and kindness and this atmosphere is heavily reinforced by the coaches.
Just before pre-season was about to begin Sam approached me and suggested that I simply give him the workouts to do and he would workout on his own. I certainly have the knowledge base to do that but for the first time I forced one of my kids to play a particular sport. I told Sam that working out with other kids would be much more enjoyable and I knew he would be much more consistent in his training and would get much better results. He was fine with the decision. From the very first day of practice he was always ready to go. When I picked him up at the end of practice he always had a smile on his face. His body began to change and although he was the slowest runner on the team it was clear that he had a big, strong heart.
Sam always enjoyed the races and he was very concerned with his own improvement. He made steady progress as the season went along but because the cross country courses very from school to school it was hard to tell how much faster he was actually getting. I asked him if he wanted me to time him in the mile. His personal best time or personal record in the mile before the season started was 9:48. I told him I thought he could break 9 minutes so we went up to the high school track and I timed and encouraged him as he worked his way around the quarter mile oval. To my surprise he ran the mile in 8:22. I told him I knew he could break 8 minutes by the end of the season and a fire was lit in Sam’s belly.
Two weeks later he spent the weekend with his older brother, Brandon, at Georgetown
University. Brandon runs for Georgetown and on that Saturday he got some of his teammates together to cheer for Sam in his quest for the 8 minute mile. He came up short but he showed tremendous improvement with an 8:08 effort.
As the season began to wind down Sammy ran his last junior varsity race in the conference championship. His improvement from the beginning of the season on the same course was 5:18. He could have stopped training at that point but like most of the kids on the cross country team he was hooked on the uplifting feeling of exercise and the camaraderie of the team. He loved hanging with his teammates and it certainly didn’t hurt that many of his teammates were attractive young women.
One last time Sam and I headed to the high school track on a Sunday to break the magical 8 minute barrier. Roger Bannister never had as much focus. I paced him through the first half-mile in 4:00 and then moved off the track to cheer. As he came down the final stretch, with his teeth clenched and his face red, it was clear that he was close. I hit the watch as he crossed the line and collapsed in a gasping heap. I slowly looked down to reveal the time…8:00.32! So close! Sam was disappointed but he was happy with the improvement and he immediately began to talk about trying to do it again the following week.
I emailed his cross country coaches and asked if he could try to break 8 minutes at one of the practices with the other kids around. They loved the idea and set a day and time for Sam’s quest. They also gave him workouts designed to specifically improve his mile time.
When the day arrived Sam made sure that he had everything set to go. His mood was light and happy when I dropped him off at school and I told him I’d leave work to come watch him run at 3 pm. As 3 pm approached I predictably received several last minute calls and I got a late start on my way to the school. When I arrived at the track Sam was already running. I stepped out of my car to hear the thunderous cheering of his teammates. It stunned me as I looked around and saw the entire cross country team holding handmade signs, beating on drums and yelling encouragement at the top of their young lungs. The tears in my eyes came immediately as I watched Sam’s stride grow stronger with each word of encouragement and every beat of the drum. Coming down the final stretch he made his push to the finish and crossed the line in 7:37. His teammates were wonderful as their cheers grew even louder and anyone watching would have thought that Sam had just won a state championship himself. Sam was so emotionally lifted by the support of his team I think he could have run another 7:37 mile right then.
Sam never could have reached his goal without the support of his teammates and coaches. The effort they showed in making signs and outwardly encouraging Sam tells me a lot about this group of kids and their generation. They are good to each other and they know how to work as a team. The future looks bright when I see it through Sam’s eyes. I hope every child gets a chance to have the same view.
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