Real Simple Inspiration

Lying to your children

2012-01-15T20:16:00.000-08:00

I had the Today Show on the other day when a segment was airing in regard to lying to your children. I only heard a little and I didn’t really pay attention to it.

Since that time I have thought about my own honesty in regard to raising my own children.

I would never suggest to anyone that they follow my examples in raising children. I’ve always used instinct before expert advice and in fact I’ve never used any expert advice in raising my kids.

My own innate experience entailed developing trust from the moment they were born by simply spending as much time as I could with them and really trying to be in the moment and attentive whenever they expressed themselves or participated in an event.
It just seemed to me that when you have a trusting and open relationship with your kids it truly minimizes the necessity to lie.

I was also very open in regard to my own mistakes in life.

As my kids segued into adolescence, discussions of drugs, drinking and sex came up and I explained to them that I started smoking pot and drinking in the eighth grade and lost my virginity in high school.

I never worried that they would feel that, that gave them the right to do the same thing because I always felt like they trusted and respected me. I also felt that it was important that they knew that I am a human being who has made a lot of mistakes in life.

The sense that parents make mistakes too, can be very freeing and actually create more trust between a parent and a child.

My basic advice to them was simply, ‘The longer you wait before drinking, taking drugs or having sex the better your life will be.”

I’m proud to say that they all listened.

Being a Good Ex-Spouse

2011-03-09T07:21:00.000-08:00

This week my twenty year-old daughter is on a well deserved vacation in Florida with her mother. I believe it is the first time they have had an extended one on one vacation since her mom moved away five years ago.

This past weekend I had the pleasure of attending an old friend’s fiftieth birthday party and I had some great conversations with people I hadn’t seen in years. One conversation struck me deeply. I was talking to a person who had known my ex-wife and I for years when he suddenly said, “How is you ex-wife doing? I’ll never be able to forgive her for what she did to you.”

I simply said, “We’re fine and she has married a very nice guy.”

These two events have caused me to think a little deeper about my own actions and what I believe is one of the most common reasons that people have deep issues with divorce.

Outsiders and friends seem to think that they are being loyal in a divorce by choosing sides and talking down the person, who from an outside perspective is the easiest to blame.

In the last five years since my ex-wife left, I have watched my three children blossom. They were thirteen, fifteen and nineteen when she left.

I was worried about my thirteen year old son and my fifteen year old daughter. Those are crucial ages and with turmoil going on at home it is easy for a young teenager to follow the wrong path.

My ex-wife and I knew she was going to leave nine months before she left. Some people find it remarkable that we lived together while she was seeing someone else on the weekends. For me it was critical to maintain a family unit during the transition. Was it easy? No!

I had my moments of deep depression and drowning my sorrows in several bottles of beer. My ex-wife and I had powerful, hurtful, angry conversations but this was always done away from the kids.

After several months of living with the knowledge that we were going to separate our home we sat the thirteen year old and the fifteen year old down to break the news to them. After a difficult, emotional dialogue my wiseass son said, “Dad, find someone hot. Mom, don’t marry a dick.” We still laugh about this today because she was seeing and did marry someone named Dick.

My ex-wife moved to Washington, D.C. and remarried. Fortunately she went to work at the university where my oldest son was attending college and he was able to move in with her for awhile after school.

My daughter, my youngest son and I stayed in our hometown, moved out of a big beautiful house and transitioned to several apartments and living arrangements over the next five years.

Through all the rough times and upheaval they had a stable home and a lot of laughter.

I committed to not place any negative feelings that I had about their mom on them. I knew that no matter what pain I was feeling, they loved their mom and if I criticized their mom in front of them it would simply make them feel bad.

When they expressed anger or pain about their relationship with their mom I simply tried to listen and reenforce that what they were expressing was important. They may have been feeling some of the same pain that I was but I wanted to make sure that it didn’t ramp up into some “mom is bad “feeling.

If children feel bad about a parent it can make them feel bad about themselves.

I also think that in a small town, if friends feel resentment toward an ex-spouse that can inadvertently rub off on the kids. That is why whenever anyone expressed the feelings that were expressed to me at the birthday party I always responded with “We are doing great!”

So now my daughter is off enjoying a terrific and well deserved vacation in the hot sun. They will have time to relate and enjoy each other while they deepen their relationship. It is great for her and the better she feels the better I feel.

Passing Along Positive Thoughts

2010-08-20T08:54:00.000-07:00

My friend, Pete, called me Sunday morning. His daughter, Devon, had just left 15 minutes before to go to college for her freshman year.

She is a smart, funny, attractive young woman who is attending school on a full academic scholarship.

Pete didn’t expect to miss Devon. She has so much to look forward to and that is his focus. In that moment Pete was feeling a little lonely and I was honored that he put in a call to me to ask me if I’d like to go get a beer that afternoon. I couldn’t go and Pete and I had a great conversation on the phone.

A couple of days later, while I was working, I thought of Devon and I thought of all the times that Pete has talked in glowing terms about her. I am sure that he tells her the same things in person but I also know that when someone reaches out to someone else and says, “So and so always says positive things about you” it can have a deep impact. When you tell them their parents are saying positive things about them when they are not around it can have an even deeper impact.

So I took the liberty of looking Devon up on Facebook and I sent her this note.

Devon,

About 15 minutes after you left on Sunday your dad called me. He said, "I thought I was going to be fine but now that she is gone I really miss her"

I can't tell you the number of times that your dad and I have talked about you. He is so proud of you and he knows that you are going to accomplish everything that you put your mind to in life.

Enjoy the future. It is really bright. When your dad gets weepy I'll take him for a few beers so he can talk about how proud he is of you!

Yours truly,
Devon Fan Cameron

Devon responded with a great note back to me.

When I hear an honest, sincere compliment about someone I like to make sure that they know it. We all like to hear good things about ourselves and it helps to create better self-esteem and makes us stronger.

My Hero, Ryan

2010-07-08T11:24:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I got involved in a Facebook exchange. My girlfriend, Wendy, posted the following:

“July 4th we celebrate the signing of the "Declaration of Independence" Officially forming the 13 colonies, in America, free from the Kingdom of Great Britain. A war took place in this process, The American Revolutionary War. Freedom has ALWAY's come with a price. I stand proud to live in this free nation. I will honor ...& support those who have & continue to fight & defend our countries freedom! Do you?”

This elicited immediate responses as one friend wrote about her son being deployed to Iraq and friendly posts with thanks and positive thoughts for her and her son abounded.

I was struck by one friend who posted “You are the Patriot. Most parents do everything in their power to keep military age children at home.”

I know this person was trying to be nice but the idea that someone would take a group of people, in this case parents, and make a negative assumption about them is troubling to me. Assumptions like this happen all the time and I think it goes to the core of a collective communication discourse in our country that separates all of us.

My nephew, Ryan, also landed in Iraq this week. He has wanted to be a soldier ever since he was a little boy. He tried college for a semester and then decided that the Army Reserve would be a good fit for him and would help him offset his future college expenses.

I know that the way he was pushed in basic training taught him that he could reach deeper than he ever imagined and the forced discipline of the daily process was also a wonderful benefit.

Ryan is the only one of my parent’s seven grandchildren who is currently serving in the military. The other six are either attending college or about to attend college.

I never talked about military service with my oldest son or my daughter. They were so completely focused on college that it wouldn’t have been the best option for them.

My youngest son Sam, who happens to be extremely close to Ryan, could use many of the skills that the military could teach him. I’ve talked about the military several times with him and he has chosen to attend college this year.

I believe that most parents go through this type of process.

As Ryan sits in Iraq and serves his country I am proud of him and scared for him. I don’t think that he considers himself a hero.

The most heroic thing that I have had the honor of seeing Ryan do occurred during his dad’s funeral in June of 2009. While his sister Hilary began to speak about their dad she started to cry. Ryan waited for a moment to let her collect herself and then when she couldn’t, he gracefully approached the podium, put his arm around Hilary and read her words with strength and eloquence.

I am sure that Ryan’s army training came into play in that moment. If he is confronted with a situation that requires grace under pressure in Iraq I know he will respond heroically.

I also know that my friends, family and acquaintances, who are parents, would never do whatever they could to keep their children out of the military. They would simply help their children make the choice that is right for them.

I hope we remember that the majority of the people who live in the United States love this country and when we assume something negative about a particular group it divides us and weakens the country that Ryan is fighting for.

Emergency Ward

2010-07-03T07:39:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday morning I received an email from my dad with the title “Emergency Ward” the cryptic note that followed said “Spent last evening at the Blue Hill Hospital. You will have to call your mother to get the details. Dad”

To give you a little background, this past year has been tough on my mom and dad who have been married for almost 58 years. Mom has been battling memory loss and several health issues and my dad battles diabetes, and is still recovering from having is aortic valve replaced in October.

The number of trips to the emergency room has increased at an astronomical rate and my dad’s emails have become more stilted.

As soon as I received the email I called my mom. I was expecting a stressed out response on the other end but my mom answered with a giddy tone to her voice.

“What’s up with dad?” I asked.

“Well”, she giggled.” Your father and I had sex yesterday afternoon and as soon as we were done he had to get up and take a shower.”

Of course I started laughing and I apologize if this is too much information for the reader.

“When he came out of the shower he couldn’t remember anything that had happened all day, except for the sex. I asked him several questions and he couldn’t answer them. I thought he was having a stroke, so I insisted we go to the hospital.”

By the time they got to the hospital they were laughing and when they explained their situation to the hospital staff they were informed that it is rare, but memory loss after sex or intense exercise is something referred to as “transient global amnesia”. Dad’s doctor thinks the episode is related to his diabetes and low blood sugar.

Whatever the reason, it is a testament to my parents and their marriage. Their health is waning, life is more difficult and they are still able to connect in a beautiful, emotional and physical way.

And as I told my mom on the phone, “It’s pretty impressive that after 58 years of marriage you are so good in bed that you can still make dad lose his mind.”

The Gift of Words

2010-04-30T11:18:00.000-07:00

I spend a significant amount of time working at being a good parent. I wonder if I am doing enough and I wonder if I am doing too much. I think most parents do the same thing.

This week I received one of those gifts that let me know that I am on the right track. My daughter had an in class writing exercise to do in one of her college classes. They were given writing prompts as they were writing and what follows below is simply a flow of words off the top of her head.

To me it is a gift of words that assures me that I doing OK as a dad and that my daughter is doing great as a human being.

My father is an absolutely hilarious human being. Some may describe him as “ridiculous”, some may describe him as “caring”, and others may describe him as “rude”, but that is precisely what I love about him. He always has some sort of joke (most of the time it’s lame) to fill a void in a conversation. He has the ability to make me laugh hysterically, until I have tears in my eyes. No joke. I can always count on him to make fun of me; to call me out when I am being dramatic, which is often (I have my grandmother’s genetics). I see my father sitting at our kitchen table, typing away (oh, he is awful at typing so it is a wonderful sight to see) on his beat up laptop with duct tape on the edge to stop the screen from freaking out every five minutes. It’s a funny thing; how much he and his laptop have in common. Not the freaking out part, because I honestly can’t remember the last time my father yelled at me, but the part about being a bit different, being a bit “quirky.” I’m not sure if I’m explaining this similarity well, but it is a GOOD thing. Anyway, I see my father there in the kitchen, in his old boxer briefs (pants are always optional in our house), with a hole in the ass because he hasn’t bothered to buy a new pair in about three years (that is so typical dode), and one of his white v-neck t-shirts that Wendy bought him for Christmas. He’s probably typing up another inspirational post for his blog; what he does best.

It’s difficult sometimes to figure out what my dad is thinking about. He is a very complex man. He has strong emotions and he could be thinking some terribly depressing thought but I would never know because he would never let me know. That is what I love about my father; he only wants what’s best for his kids. And if he is having the worst day ever, he would never project that on us. He’s very strong. He can fall down ten times a day, but always manage to get back up and “keep on keepin’ on.” That should be my dad’s bumper sticker or personal phrase or something like that because that truly describes his personality and outlook on life. But anyway, he is thinking back to a time when we were little (us kids); I was maybe four or five. We’re all playing in the backyard of our Pleasant Hill house and he’s out there watching us, thinking “what did I do right? How the hell did I get blessed with the three best children I could ask for?” He has his silly dad grin on, thinking how, no matter what shit he was dealing with at work, or anything else, life couldn’t be better because he has us. Of course, we stressed the hell out of him, especially back then we were little, but he still feels blessed. I think, though, that he shouldn’t wonder how we happened, because it’s all because of him. Of course, the whole sex part, and him and my mom creating us, but it’s my dad that made us so great (my mom did too, of course, but this is about my dad right now). I don’t think parents realize that. They always focus on how great their kids are and what they did to deserve great kids (well, the good parents do at least) but they never really realize that a lot of it is thanks to them. They are what’s so great about us. I highly doubt that I would be as independent as I am today if it wasn’t for my dad ‘s ability to let us do things on our own; he knew that we would figure things out somehow without having his help all the time. I certainly wouldn’t be as resilient as I am today if it wasn’t for my parents’ divorce, I certainly can thank them for that! And I know for a fact, without a doubt, that I would not have the same ridiculous sense of humor if it wasn’t for my dad. Those things affect kids and I am really glad that I had my dad’s influence growing up, over anyone else. God, my dad is great.

Getting back on Your Feet

2010-03-07T06:28:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was a beautiful day and as I sat at my computer working and writing I received an email from a friend and colleague that said, “Don't forget to go out and PLAY!”

It was a good wakeup call because I have a tendency to get involved in my writing and working and I don’t always stop to enjoy the day.

So I pulled myself away from the keyboard, threw on my old school running gear and headed out for a run.

I’m fortunate that I live close to a small island connected by a bridge to the mainland.

As I turned on to the wooded trail that winds around the island, trudging along in my running shorts and black sox highlighting my white legs, I looked up to see an attractive young woman running with two teenage girls. As they got closer, I smiled. This act, while running, apparently was too much simultaneous coordination for my middle aged body to handle and I immediately tripped over the root of a tree and dove, face first into the wet, fungal, forest soil.

I laughed, took a second to assess any injuries and then stumbled to my feet in time to acknowledge some comment of concern from the three females as they easily glided past me.

For the next mile I chuckled at myself and thought about all the times that I have fallen in life. The emotional, financial and physical dips that we all endure can be overwhelming as we experience them and empowering as we overcome them.

The falls aren’t what define us. It’s the way that we can get back on our feet on keep running.

Coaching Kids

2010-01-19T11:15:00.000-08:00

Coaching kids; I have always loved it and I have some great stories to tell about my experiences doing it.

I think kids know immediately when a coach is full of crap and trying too hard to win. They instinctively move away and stop listening when they feel a coach trying too hard. Just to illustrate my point the following story will tell you how I did just that.

Back when my daughter, Kourtney, was seven I became the head coach of her travel soccer team. I think they had 3 teams, A, B, and C at her level and we were the “C” team.

We were supposed to only carry 12 kids on our “official” roster. However, I have never been one to “officially” do anything. I just wanted kids to play so we carried 14 kids (please don’t report me) on our roster ranging in age from 7 to 9. Actually, we also had a really cute, red-haired; left footed six year old because her dad was coaching her sister on one of the other teams..shssss.. don’t tell anyone!

I grew up playing “kick the can” and that is as close as I ever got to soccer. Like “kick the can”, my philosophy was that everyone played and hopefully no one felt left out.

As the season progressed the girls and their parents all seemed to be enjoying the season except that at the midway point we hadn’t won a game and we hadn’t scored a goal!

I understood that I was working with young girls and if they didn’t care I shouldn’t care, BUT I was a successful college athlete and one of my very close friends tells me that I, during my high testosterone youth, was one of the most competitive people he has ever known. In fact, I think he said I was THE most competitive person he has ever known.

So we’re half way through the season, we have a big tournament coming up and I can feel myself begin to channel Vince Lombardi. Yes, I know that Vince coached football but other than Pele’ I don’t know anyone even remotely “legendary” on the professional soccer side.

We start the first game of this illustrious youth soccer tournament in Buxton, Maine and all the girls come out of the game as I make the changes saying, “They are stepping on our toes!”

What?! How the hell can anyone step on your toes if you are actually running?! Now, I didn’t express myself that way. In a very politically correct way I said, “If you keep running they can’t step on your toes!”

At halftime we’re down 3-0 and I can’t take it anymore. I get down on my knees, with fourteen 6 through 9 year-old girls around me in a horseshoe and I begin THE SPEECH. I can feel my speech pattern accelerating and my volume increasing with each word that bloviates from my mouth. In fact, I actually had an out of body experience where I was looking down at myself and thinking, “Wow, you are simply an amazing coach.”

At the end of my life defining speech, as I begin to catch my bad and over excited breath, I ask the girls “So does anyone have any questions?” I scan the faces placed in the horseshoe around me from left to right and as I get to the end I see the hand of the one young woman who has been standing right next to my ear and really gets it!

“Yes, Hope”, I say, waiting for her reply that will instantly place me in the pantheon of great youth coaches, “What is your question?”

Every kid is waiting for her question and listening for my response as she says,” Mr. Bonsey, you have a lot of crud in your ear!”

I fell on the ground laughing, realizing that kids just want to participate. They don’t care about winning. It is just adult jerks like me that think they want to win.

Seeing me laugh made the girls laugh and relax and they went out and scored their first 3 goals of the season.

We still lost but I learned a big lesson. LET THE KIDS PLAY!

My Aunt Jane

2009-11-15T13:45:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago my dad had an operation to replace his aortic valve. My sister, my mom and I were sitting in the waiting room when I saw my sister’s face suddenly light up as she said “Well, hello!”

I turned to see my mother’s sister Jane, with a broad smile on her face, walking across the room toward us.

Immediately, I felt a surge of energy, encased in a sense of calm with a good dose of humor added in. That is the way Aunt Jane makes me feel.

I spent a lot of time at her house when I was growing up. She has three boys, Richard, Tom and Ben. We were all full of energy and mischief and even when she was exhausted from working a long nursing shift at the hospital she was able to handle us with a strong, positive attitude.

We would often sit around the kitchen table talking. It wasn’t unusual for the topic to become inappropriate, like the time Tom asked her what a scrotum was, but she always answered the questions and pretty much told us we were a bunch of fools.

Nothing has ever been handed to Jane. She worked hard to go to nursing school and raise a family. She has handled her fair share of tragedy and pain and yet she rarely complains.

She is honest, direct and kind. She now runs a second hand clothing shop and when a recent customer was picking out clothing and complaining loudly about the “flaming liberal democrats” in this country Aunt Jane simply said, “I’m one of those flaming liberal democrats” as she checked the customer out. They both laughed and now when that customer comes to shop Aunt Jane calls her the “Cute Conservative.”

She handles conflict that way. She may not agree with you but she will certainly listen to you.

My Aunt Jane simply helps me feel better about life and what life can be. Thank you Aunt Jane. I love you.

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad

2009-10-18T15:29:00.000-07:00

I called my parents on their 57th anniversary today and had a wonderful conversation with my mom. She talked about how blessed they have been during their marriage.

They were married in a small church in their hometown of Surry, Maine on October 18th, 1952. My dad was 24 and my mom was 18. Dad was the town manager in Corinth, Maine and mom was fresh from her first year of college.

My sister, Lynn, was born in August of 1953 and my other sister, Lorna, was born in May of 1955. Mom gave birth to stillborn baby in 1957 and this was the most painful point in their marriage. I was born in June of 1959.

My dad was hired as the Falmouth, Maine town manager in 1962 and my mom went back to school to pursue her love of teaching a few years later when I started school fulltime.

What I remember most about my mom and dad are the discussions we had around the supper table every night during the 60’s and 70’s. Mom was a liberal Democrat and dad was a Republican. It was fascinating, even to a little kid, to have dissenting political ideals displayed by both parents with passion and intellectual conviction while I ate some very traditional home cooked meals.

No matter how much they disagreed politically they agreed deeply in regard to family, religion, money and sex.

We were close as a family, attended church regularly, they used their money wisely and they expressed their love physically in a vibrant and beautiful way.

The success of their marriage comes down to the way they respect, love and listen too each other.

The bond between them allowed them to leave their hometown church when the church would not allow homosexual ministers. This past week they proudly placed their “NO on 1” sign in the front yard of the home back in Surry, Maine where fifty-seven years ago they began the journey that taught them that the sanctity of marriage comes down to the deep, traditional values of love ,trust and respect between two people.

Thank you, mom and dad. Your life lessons continue to give me strength and confidence. I will make sure that I pass those lessons along to Brandon, Kourtney and Sam.

Happy Anniversary and I love you.

Cameron

2009-09-17T10:12:00.001-07:00

Wednesday morning I got up at 6 am and went for a 3.5 mile run. I haven’t run in the morning for a long time because I never feel like it. I wanted to see if it would have an impact on how I felt during the day. The run went well and then I took my son, Sam, to school and drove over to look at a house I am interested in.

While I waited for the real estate agents I noticed that I’ll didn’t feel any better than usual. I still had that blah, unfocused feeling.

The house was great and I had some nice conversations and then headed to work.

My daughter, Kourtney called to say that she had just taken her boyfriend , Chris, who has been suffering from viral meningitis, back to the emergency room. He threw up after class on Tuesday and woke up throwing up on Wednesday. They were performing another spinal tap and she was very upset for Chris.

After that, my girlfriend Wendy called upset because she was overwhelmed with flight attendant school was she participating in. It has been a lifelong dream and the testing has been intense and the job is going to be much more logistically complicated than she thought. She was overwrought with feelings of failure and disappointment.

Then my ex-wife Kim called complaining and worrying about our oldest son, Brandon. She was questioning his choices and asking me questions that I suggested she ask him, since he is living with her now.

I was also worried about my dad who needs a new heart valve, Kourt’s efforts to help Chris when she also needs to focus on her school work and most importantly how I was going to get the apartment clean before Wendy got home!

After I picked up Sam and made supper, I decided to take my sorry ass outside and jumpstart Wendy’s car that had been sitting stationary since Kourt used it and left the key in the “on” position.

I got it jumpstarted and then I took it for a ride to charge the battery. I drove down to the Town Landing, about 2 miles from the apartment, to look out at the ocean on a beautiful night. The light was perfect and the sailboats in the harbor were stunning as they bobbed up and down to the rhythum of the waves. Taking a moment for myself and to just enjoy my surroundings I reached down and turned off the key. I think I actually had a piece of my mind yelling “no don’t do that” as my hand went to the steering column but in that instant I couldn’t pull it all together. The car turned off just as I yelled “shit!” I quickly turned the key hoping that enough juice had gotten to the battery to just turn the engine over once but all I got was that familiar click, click, click sound that I have heard so many times in my life.

That’s when I really started to get pissed squeezing the steering wheel as hard as I could with both hands and shaking it. I think I could have actually pulled it off the column if I hadn’t calmed myself down.

I relaxed my hands and sat there for a moment and pondered my options. I could look for someone and ask for a jump, I could call Sam and have him drive illegally (he only has his permit)over to help me (I seriously considered this) or I could simply collect myself and walk back to the apartment and get my car.

Walking seemed like the best plan so I strolled up the hill and then down RT 88. It was a beautiful night and the walk was nice. I got to the apartment, jumped in my car, drove back to Town Landing, jumped Wendy’s car and drove it back to the apartment.

It was now getting dark and I had to go back and get my car. So I grabbed my goofy orange reflective vest and jumped on the old bicycle, that I bought for $75 at the beginning of the summer so that Brandon, Kourt and Sam could get around when a car wasn’t available, and headed down the road looking like an odd, middle aged man with balance problems as I wobbled slowly down the road.

After a quarter mile I felt pretty good and the whole event seemed to start coming into a humorous focus for me. It was rounding into a good story to tell with a good ending and I was speeding down hill with the wind in my hair. Even the big uphill wasn’t bad as I downshifted and pumped my legs furiously steadily moving forward. I crested the hill and my momentum increased as I changed gears again. This is the point where the derailleur, after many years of use, decided to let go. After a lot of clanking sounds I looked down to see the chain hanging and caught in the spokes.

Now I had another decision to make. Should I just leave the bike there and walk the rest of the way or should I try to use it as a scooter? The scooter option seemed to make sense as there was flat road ahead and a big downhill at the end. I figured I could actually get there faster than walking. So I cocked my butt off to one side so my leg could reach the ground and started pushing myself along at dusk on a busy road wearing my classy reflective vest. I was amazed by how fast my leg fatigued, how slow I was traveling and how funny passersby thought I looked.

I shifted to my other side just as some” tricked out” bicyclist with his fancy lights, flamboyant bike shorts and $1,000, 20 speed road bike passed by and made some remark that was tinged with sympathy but was drenched in sarcasm. That’s when I heard another clanking sound as chain wrapped itself in the spokes again.

Suddenly I was back to that “gripping and shaking the steering wheel” feeling again! I wanted to throw the bike down and then jump up and down on it yelling obscenities as loud as I could. Instead, I tossed the bike to the side of the road, took note of the location and expelled a moderately loud by simple “fuck” and continued my quest to pick up my car.

The rest of the trip was uneventful as I got back to my car, picked up the bike, picked up a 12 pack of Sam Adams at the store and went back to the apartment to drink my beer and tell Sam my adventure. I think it is good for Sam to have a father who makes more mistakes than he does.

The next morning I got up to find out that Chris is feeling much better, Wendy passed her tests and should be fine and Brandon is going to work doing recruiting for Georgetown while he works at a running shoe store and applies to grad school at UMO.

I’m not going to bother running in the morning and I’ll stick with my reliance on Sam Adams.

Praise in Public

2009-09-02T05:13:00.000-07:00

I wanted to share the letter to the editor, published in The Forecaster, that I wrote about my kids cross country coaches. I believe that we should praise the people who deserve praise as often and as publicly as we can.

Letter: Falmouth coaches deserve thanks
Published: Aug 31, 2009 8:40 am -
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This fall marks the 10th and final year in a row that one or more of my children will run cross country for Falmouth High School. During that time Danny Paul and Jorma Kurry have shared the coaching responsibilities.

My children's running skills span all levels from elite runner, to good runner, to back-of- the-pack runner. It never mattered to Danny and Jorma what running skills each of my children possessed. What has always come across loud and clear is that they are concerned with each athlete's development as a runner and more importantly as a human being.

I've observed them at over 100 meets and numerous awards banquets. It is amazing how they relate to each student and how they can recall the most minute detail or most important accomplishment of each of one.

My oldest son has graduated from college and he still stays in contact and runs with each of them. My daughter is currently running in college and as I took her to pre-season running camp, we talked about Danny and Jorma and their positive impact on her life.

I believe that being a teacher/coach in today's complicated world is one of the toughest and most important jobs. Thank you Danny and Jorma for doing it so well and making my job, as a parent, easier. I plan on enjoying every minute of this 10th season as I watch my youngest son improve as a runner and a human being.

Cameron Bonsey
Falmouth

Bring Guilt to the Laundromat

2009-08-23T07:50:00.000-07:00

My daughter Kourtney is getting ready to go back to college. Her room is torn up, clothes are piled in front of the washer and dryer and reminder notes sit, ruffed on counter tops and tables throughout our home.

I sat down at the kitchen table to do some work this morning and out of the corner of my eye, on a sticky note next to my computer, I read the words “take guilt to the laundromat” As I refocused my fifty year old eyes I realized that it actually was a note from Kourtney asking me to take her quilt to the laundromat.

The thought of taking guilt to the laundromat intrigues me. What if we could simply wash away the guilt that builds up over a lifetime with a quick visit to the “guilt free” laundromat?

As I write this I am focusing on guilt as “self-reproach for supposed inadequacy or wrongdoing”. I believe we would all become happier and more productive if we could clean this type of guilt from our lives.

I know my own forgetfulness and lack of organizational skills can make me feel guilty at work and in my personal life. What I have found is that if I concentrate on that guilt I actually become less effective and certainly less satisfied in life. Sometimes I have to stop, address the mistake and do my best to prevent the same thing from happening again.

Great athletes know exactly how to do this. If Josh Beckett gives up a key hit you’ll certainly see him express anger and disappointment in himself for a moment. He then quickly settles down and focuses on the task at hand and the future. The base hit does not exist in his mind because it would simply pull energy away from what he needs to accomplish from that point forward.

This simple lesson is something I try to reinforce with me kids everyday. So I’ll take Kourt’s quilt to the laudromat and hopefully she can sleep under it through many “guilt free” nights at school this year.

Depression Inspires Me

2009-06-12T10:46:00.000-07:00

I have lived with depression my entire life. It is a part of who I am and the path it has pushed me to follow has led me to a place where I am happy and full of enthusiasm for what life presents to me.

It hasn’t always been that way. I’ve experienced the moments of despair, curled up in the fetal position on family room floor when no one was around, screaming at the top of my lungs, with my dogs licking my face wondering what was wrong with me.

I have fallen apart on a movie set, unable to make the calls for the shoot the next day as my sister, a woman who was working with me, two of my best friends and one of their wives made phone calls until 2 in the morning for me.

And years ago I checked myself into a facility for three days because I was exhausted and simply didn’t know what to do to make myself feel better.

Yesterday I had my physical. I am about to turn fifty and I am in very good shape physically. The nurse who weighed and measured me even thinks I’ve grown have an inch! I think she just had a bad angle but I’ll take it. At least I’m not shrinking yet.

As I began to talk to my doctor in regard to how I am feeling it became clear to me that I have learned a great deal about myself through my work with my own depression.

I am a deeply emotional person. This usually displays itself through frequent outbursts of laughter. In my younger days it would sometimes manifest itself in anger and holding onto to pain.

My depression can take energy away from me and holding on to negative feelings only makes me feel worse. I just don’t have the internal resources to handle that downward spiral so I have learned how to let those negative feelings go and replace them with positive thoughts and feelings.

Those positive thoughts help me to view the world from a different perspective. I instantly trust people that I have just met and I trust my kids, my girlfriend, my parents, siblings, my friends and co-workers. I’ve learned that it is important to give trust first if you ever expect to be trusted and when I don’t trust someone it just pulls energy away from me. Most people do the right thing so why should I waste energy worrying about something negative happening?

I also set positive short term and long term goals. My kids make fun of me because I’ll say things like “My fifties are going to be the most productive time of my life.” I say things like that to reinforce that life to good to them and, just as importantly, that life is good to me.

I know that I’ll have days when I want to curl up on the floor and scream and I know that I will make it through those days to laugh with friends and family.

Thank you depression. You inspire me.

Basketball Blues

2008-11-19T06:35:00.000-08:00

It is now officially the beginning of the high school basketball season in Maine. This may be the most popular sport in the state and playing for your high school team is an important coming of age goal for many boys and girls.

My son Sam is a 16 year old junior at Falmouth High School in Falmouth Maine. He has grown up playing basketball with his older brother and he is a huge Boston Celtic and Duke University fan. Basketball is always on TV at our house and Sam spends an enormous amount of time playing basketball on the street that we live on. I placed a cheap portable hoop by the side of the road and it is one of the best investments that I have ever made.

Our high school team has a very talented group in Sam’s class. Sam is a very good shooter but he is not blessed with speed. He has run cross country every year to get in shape for basketball and this year he has expressed concerns over making the team. It is not unusual for juniors to get cut because they are sometimes stuck in no man’s land. Not skilled enough to play varsity and not young enough to have potential to develop.

The days before tryouts were filled with discussions of maintaining focus, believing in yourself, hustle and having a positive attitude.

Sam and I spent Saturday and Sunday looking for basketball shoes. Size 11 is very popular and finding the brand and style that Sam wanted was becoming difficult. I was heading out on a business trip on Monday so we had several stores call other locations to see what they had. We found a store that had Sam’s size and style and I told him I would pick up the shoes and deliver them to tryouts. He took his old shoes in case I was late.

The next day I went to the store and bought 2 pair of shoes in different colors because I thought Sam might change his mind once he saw both. I sent him a text to make sure he knew that I had the shoes and he replied that practice was earlier and that he would use his old shoes.

That night I picked him up from practice and asked him how things went. Sam was very positive as he described the tryout and the things they had done. As we got home Sam immediately tried on the new shoes, selected the pair he originally wanted and went outside to try them out. His reaction was “The new shoes are great dad. Thank you”.

I dropped him off at school the next day and headed back out on the road. He called me after 8 pm to tell me practice was done. When I arrived at the school I switched seats so he could drive. He walked slowly to the car, opened the door and got in with a very sullen look on his face. “You might as well return both pair of shoes,” he said as his eyes seemed to mist over.

At first I thought he was joking as I said something like, “Don’t give me that crap. How did it go?

“I’m not kidding dad, I didn’t make the team. I’m going to run indoor track.”

It was one of those moments that are tough for parents to deal with. How should I react? Is this a good learning moment? Should I just say I’m sorry, I know how hard you have worked or should I get angry at the school and the coaches for cutting my son?

In short I didn’t know what to say. I sat there looking at Sam trying to figure out what I could say that might be inspirational but nothing came.

Suddenly that big beautiful smile of Sam’s came across his face and he said “I made JV. Coach told me he expects me to be one of the leaders and if I work hard I’ll be one of the three guys he calls up at the end of the season when they make the playoffs.”

I burst out laughing. Sam had played the same trick that I play on him. He totally had me fooled and it was his best acting yet!

Life doesn’t always work out as we planned but we can have a lot of fun along the way whether our plan works or not.

Michael’s Graduation

2008-06-10T03:30:00.000-07:00

My nephew graduated this spring. He is a smart, great person and that moment made me think of him and my other nieces and nephews as well as my best friend’s family. I sent this note to all of them. We are very lucky.

Michael’s Graduation

I’ve been thinking about Michael’s graduation this week. It was very important for me personally to witness the ceremony and I spent a lot of time thinking about Michael and the type of person he has become. I love his drive, his sense of humor and his choice of friends. Of course I have forgotten their names but I do remember them. The handsome, good kid who is serving in the Navy, the bright, nice kid who is studying architecture and the down to earth, kind, local kid who serves as a volunteer fireman and is involved in the town. They all represent Michael very well.

As I was beginning to write this Steve called and I was telling him about Michael. Steve also majored in Physics at McGill and graduated with a GPA over 3.8. We talked about the 18 grandchildren of Leon and Alma Langlois and Osmond and Ann Bonsey. They all are goods kids who have stayed out of trouble and continue to make good choices in regard to the people they surround themselves with.

Think about that simple statement for a minute. 18 good, motivated and kind grandchildren from two good, motivated and kind couples.

If a physics theory like the “butter effect” “where small variations of the initial condition of a dynamical system may produce large variations in the long term behavior of the system” or in other words the idea that the flap of a butterflies’ wings can have in impact on weather conditions a half a world away, then what is the impact of 18 positive grandchildren on the future of this world.

I think the answer is infinite but I’ll rely on the brain power of Michael and Steve to give us a concise answer.

Energy may not be able to be created or destroyed but good people can. I think we’ve all been lucky, hardworking and kind in our approach with all these kids and they will and are already having a positive impact on the world around them. They are why I believe the “future is bright.”

Simple Luck

2008-03-22T06:11:00.000-07:00

I received one of those phone calls the other day that none of us want to receive. I was working on my computer at the kitchen table when I felt my cell phone vibrate. I leave it on vibrate because, like my mother, my hearing isn’t what it used to be.

The caller I.D. flashed “Mom and Dad”. They are in Florida at this time of year, so I knew that a phone call this early in the morning meant that they had either just set a record on their early morning walk/run or something was wrong.

I picked up the phone and heard mom say “Cameron, it’s your mother” I knew instantly that something was wrong. Mom had been struggling with stomach problems for months and had spent 6 hours in the emergency room a week and half before. One x-ray was inconclusive so she had a cat scan. Mom was calling me to tell me that the doctor’s office had called the night before to tell her that she had “lymphoma”.

From my minimal knowledge of lymphoma I felt that it was one of the most curable forms of cancer. I also new that, at that point, we had very little information and we would know more after mom went to the doctor’s office later that day. Knowing this I didn’t have a big reaction to the news. I simply listened to mom’s concerns that someone would need to come to Florida to be with dad while she had her operation. I let her know my sisters, Lynn and Lorna, and I would work things out and that she wouldn’t have to worry about those arraignments.

Mom’s voice cracked a little when she said goodbye and told me she was going to call Lynn and Lorna to tell them the news.

As I got off the phone I thought of a line that I have heard my dad say many times, “I am the luckiest man on the earth.” This line made sense to me because in my immediate family we have been extremely lucky in terms of dealing with family illness and tragedy.

Beyond the longevity and health I am the fortunate beneficiary of an upbringing that encouraged open communication and expression of one’s feelings. At a time when I was thinking about the potential loss of my mother I was also thinking that, because of the open communication and the longevity, my mom and I have been blessed to be in a place where we have worked out any differences we have had over the years. There are no words left unsaid and I won’t be burdened with feeling that I didn’t get a chance to express all my feelings to her.

I went to work that day and was able to focus and do the things that I needed to do. I thought of mom frequently but no morbid thoughts came to mind and my sense of calm continued.

When I left work I noticed that mom had tried to call my cell phone. I tried calling back several times over the course of the next 45 minutes. Finally, as I stood over the kitchen stove making American Chop Suey for my kids, the phone vibrated. I picked it up to hear my mother’s voice again. “Well, the news is a little better than I originally thought, “said mom in a much more enthusiastic tone. “ “I don’t have “Lymphoma” I have “Lypoma” a generally benign, fatty growth.”

In that moment, with a sense of great relief, my normally loud, boisterous and joyful laugh exploded from my body. The whole idea that mom had misheard what the doctor’s office had said, fit my sense of humor perfectly and mom and I shared a wonderful moment of laughter.

Again, I was reminded that I am also “The luckiest man on earth.”

I know that there are many things that I simply can’t control in life. That is where the “luck’ comes in. What I can control is letting those around me know what they mean to me and how important they are to me.

During this holiday weekend I am going to laugh loud and long with a sense of great thanks for the blessings in my life. I’m also going to call my mother again and let her know in a very loving and empathic tone to…..”PUT IN YOUR HEARING AID IN THE NEXT TIME THE DOCTOR CALLS!

Simple Support

2008-01-30T06:12:00.000-08:00

As I meet people for the first time and begin the process of getting to know them the subject of marriage and kids will usually come up. When I tell them that I have 3 kids, that two of them are in high school, that I am divorced and the two in high school live with me full time the reaction is usually one of “that must me tough, teenagers are so hard to live with.”

Actually, they are wonderful to live with. I’m not exactly sure why my kids are great to be around. I’m not saying that they are perfect. Like me, they have their frailties that rise to the surface on an almost daily basis. Maybe it is simply because I understand that they are like me in many ways and I respect that they are not like me in many ways.

You see, I’ve always felt that I learn more from my kids than they learn from me. Because of this I listen more than I talk and I always try to make sure that my advice is given from their perspective and not mine.

This seems to have built a powerful trust between us that allows for communication that leads to an understanding of each other.

Over the course of the last two years my 17 year old daughter, Kourtney, has had to deal with her Mom moving to another state, moving out of a beautiful big house in an upscale neighbor to a small apartment and moving again to share a house with others.

During each transition there has been angst and pain as well as a unique bonding that usually only occurs when people meet tough obstacles together and work through them as a team.

Kourtney is enjoying her senior and has applied to several colleges. She wrote several essays and stressed out about whether they were good enough. I simply advised her to write about something that she was passionate about.

Sometimes I have to travel and one night when I was on the road I called home and Kourtney said, “Dad, I wrote an essay about you and you’re going to cry when you read it.” She knows me well. I cry and laugh a lot on a daily basis.

I ask her for it a few times when I returned home, but like me, she’s a little discombobulated and things have a tendency to get lost. The other day when I was picking up the pile of junk around the computer I found three pieces of paper with her handwriting on them. As I picked them up to see if I should throw them out I realized that this was the rough draft of the essay that she had written. I sat at the kitchen table and read. Kourtney was right…I cried.

The essay is incredibly complimentary of me. Because it is meant to be inspirational it doesn’t mention any of my many weaknesses. What it does show is what an incredible person Kourtney is and how I wouldn’t be the person she thinks I am if I didn’t have her for a daughter.

I have copied her essay below and I invite you to read it and enjoy it. Cry if you want to and celebrate the future. Kourt is just one of many terrific kids that I know and come in contact with every day. Because of her and her friends I believe the future is bright.

Kourt’s College Essay (Rough Draft)

“You’re strong kid, you’re strong!” I hear my father yell from the side of the trail at one of my many high school cross country meets. Earlier I had thought he wasn’t going to make it, but he managed to get to the meet just in time; just in time for him to shout a few inspirational words at me as I pump my arms and focus my breathing through the 3.1 mile course. After I’ve finished my race, caught my breath and congratulated my teammates I walk over to where my dad stands, grasping a cold water bottle he purchased for me on his way to my meet. He knows not to come right over to me after a race, or maybe it’s that he is afraid to because he’s not sure whether I’m happy with my race or not. He waits as I approach him, beads of sweat sliding slowly down my face. “Great race, kid.” I can always count on my dad for a compliment, even if I had a terrible race.

My parents divorced when I was sixteen. My mom moved from our house in Falmouth, Maine to an apartment in Arlington, Virginia. Since then it’s been my dad taking over both parental roles. As a female adolescent, it’s tough not having a mom around when I go through those “teenage moments”. My dad has been the one to go out and buy tampons and shop for prom shoes with me at 9pm the night before prom. Having my mom leave has made my relationship with my dad stronger. I know we have a different relationship than most fathers and daughters. I see movies and TV shows where girls despise their father and all they can do is fight with him. I can never understand that. I mostly want to reach through the television screen and slap them for not appreciating how important their father is to them.

I’ve watched my father raise three children as single parent for two years now. His strength is an inspiration to me. I know that it is difficult to deal with a teenage daughter, my dad just does it and he never complains. He finds the time to make it to my cross country and track meets and to just sit and talk with me. I look at my father and see strength, generosity and kindness. He’s taught me the greatest lessons I will ever learn in life.

Raisng your kids, raising your lawn.

2007-10-05T20:56:00.000-07:00

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.

Empathy

2007-09-22T20:18:00.000-07:00

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.

Something Positive Again

2007-08-30T18:34:00.000-07:00

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

Rust on the radiator

2007-05-08T08:33:00.000-07:00

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.

Being Yourself.

2007-04-22T12:40:00.000-07:00

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.

Rutgers and Imus

2007-04-10T16:47:00.001-07:00

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.

Inspirational Daughter

2007-04-08T19:03:00.000-07:00

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.

The Lawn Athiest

2007-04-06T08:17:00.000-07:00

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.

Something Positive

2007-04-06T07:58:00.000-07:00

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.