Serving - Not Sex. Sorry to excite anyone.
____
I remember as a kid my mother would always volunteer my brother Jimmy and I for various activities. We did everything from painting a rectory’s basement to cleaning a convent. In retrospect, “volunteers” was the wrong word to describe our status; “indentured servants,” would have been a more accurate description.
As you might predict, the anticipation of these activities was met with resentment. “How could you do this to us mom?” we would ask. “No one else has to do these things!” we would protest. She would stand her ground and give us a look that suggested, “Someday you will understand.”
A strange thing would happen, though, once we were engaged in one of these activities. We would start to have fun; not in the “spoonful of sugar sense” of Mary Poppins as we were not creative enough to make a game out of it. No, we started to have fun because, deep down inside, it made us feel good to do these things.
Damn, I hate it when my mother is right!
We are told that we are only truly giving of ourselves when we expect nothing in return for our actions. What a freeing concept! Doing something for someone else out of the pure goodness of our heart. These can take the form of random acts of kindness (i.e. helping a stranger change a tire) to premeditated activities (i.e. completing project pro-bono for a non profit).
I will admit, I am in need of inspiration heading into this weekend. What have you done recently that may fit this criteria? Better yet, can you recall any times when you were the beneficiary of such activities? Thanks in advance for sharing!
Mike
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
My God Complex
My mother is Italian and my father is Irish, which of course makes me Catholic. In many ways I am an exception to the rule; many in my generation do not practice the religion in which they were raised. While that may have been true for me during my college years, over the past 13 years or so, I feel as if I have truly embraced my faith.
I wish I could say that my devotion comes solely from 12 years of Catholic school or being an altar server but, while these factors certainly contribute to my faith life, there is another to consider. I grew up having a God complex.
Let me explain.
My father, Don, is many things; generous, honest, and frugal being just three virtues espoused by “the Don.” However, when God was giving out patience, my father must have chosen to “heavy up” on other virtues. As such, when the slightest bit of stress came into his life, the man could combine multiple swear words into legendary phrases.
My personal favorite actually does not contain any foul language at all; when someone is driving poorly on the road he simply refers to them as a “club member.” The club my father is referring to, of course, is the Asshole Club (my mother made him shorten the phrase to club member during one of our long drives from Connecticut to Florida when we came into contact with many “Club Members” along I95 South).
Back to my God complex.
When trying to teach me something that I could not grasp right away, where I had a tendency to cause a little “excitement” in the man’s life, he would often shout “Jesus Christ” before instructing me to make a correction. For example:
• While teaching me how to cut the lawn: “Jesus Christ, cut it in straight lines.”
• While teaching me how to drive: “Jesus Christ, don’t cross over the yellow line.”
• While teaching me how to play golf: “Jesus Christ stop picking your head up, God damnit!”
During this last instance, I turned to my father and said, “Don’t take the name of my father in vain.”
The God complex was now complete.
_____
What you have just read is some “material” I am going to try during an amateur night of standup comedy while on vacation in ft Lauderdale at my parents country club. If you think it is funny, please let me know. I have some additional material as well, I just don’t think it is appropriate for a “Catholic” blog.
I wish I could say that my devotion comes solely from 12 years of Catholic school or being an altar server but, while these factors certainly contribute to my faith life, there is another to consider. I grew up having a God complex.
Let me explain.
My father, Don, is many things; generous, honest, and frugal being just three virtues espoused by “the Don.” However, when God was giving out patience, my father must have chosen to “heavy up” on other virtues. As such, when the slightest bit of stress came into his life, the man could combine multiple swear words into legendary phrases.
My personal favorite actually does not contain any foul language at all; when someone is driving poorly on the road he simply refers to them as a “club member.” The club my father is referring to, of course, is the Asshole Club (my mother made him shorten the phrase to club member during one of our long drives from Connecticut to Florida when we came into contact with many “Club Members” along I95 South).
Back to my God complex.
When trying to teach me something that I could not grasp right away, where I had a tendency to cause a little “excitement” in the man’s life, he would often shout “Jesus Christ” before instructing me to make a correction. For example:
• While teaching me how to cut the lawn: “Jesus Christ, cut it in straight lines.”
• While teaching me how to drive: “Jesus Christ, don’t cross over the yellow line.”
• While teaching me how to play golf: “Jesus Christ stop picking your head up, God damnit!”
During this last instance, I turned to my father and said, “Don’t take the name of my father in vain.”
The God complex was now complete.
_____
What you have just read is some “material” I am going to try during an amateur night of standup comedy while on vacation in ft Lauderdale at my parents country club. If you think it is funny, please let me know. I have some additional material as well, I just don’t think it is appropriate for a “Catholic” blog.
Friday, April 9, 2010
I am a total bonehead
I am writing this while on vacation with the family in Ft. Lauderdale. As always, our vacation started off with a little drama. Pre 9/11, we traveled to St. Lucia and forgot a birth certificate; luckily we were able to find a sympathetic ticket agent who let us through security so long as we promised to have it FedExed to us while we were away. Honeymoon saved!
A few years back, we did not realize that one of our licenses was expired. Again, we were able to sweet talk our way through security. This year, however, we forgot to check the bag containing my wife’s makeup. The TSA agent gave us two alternatives; go back past security and check the bag or leave over $200 worth of makeup with him to be thrown away. No sweet-talking our way out of this in a post shoe/underwear bomber world!
My wife looked to me, the experienced traveler, for advice. All that would come out of my mouth (in front of our kids and the TSA agent) was, “How could you forget to check that bag?” said in a condescending tone. This was, of course, not the correct response. It was completely disrespectful as it was a completely honest mistake on her part. I was frustrated because I did not want her to loose all of her makeup but I also did not feel as if we had enough time to go back through security to check the bag.
After I calmed down, I told my wife that I would pay for all the makeup she would have to replace, but this did not do much to make amends. It was not about the makeup, it was about how I reacted to the situation.
As I sat on the plane, I started to think about my friend Jack who came up to us after church one day with a big hug and said, “Enjoy this now. My wife and I were just with our kids celebrating our 55th wedding anniversary. The next day we found out that Jean (his wife) has terminal cancer. It was not a perfect 55 years, but we loved each other very much. Treasure this time.” With that, he went away in tears. (As an aside, If you have never heard the song Don't Blink by Kenny Chesney, listen to it right now. It could have been written based on Jack and Jean's life together).
I heard that Jean died two weeks ago. We have known Jack and Jean for 6 years, as Jack is the general manager of the swimming club we have belonged to over that time. He was always very social we had many conversations over that time on everything from Catholicism to politics to how fast my children are growing. He and Jean had a relationship to be envied; how many people can make it 55 years?
My reaction to my wife during the beginning of our trip (as well as other times in our lives) is something that I need to work on. My sense is that these reactions I have stem from a place of both selfishness and impatience. In these situations, what my reactions say is that I place more value on convenience than I do my wife’s feelings. Hopefully, now that I am more conscious of this tendency in my own life, I will be able to choose a better response.
Jack’s words to me after mass that day remind me that marriage is not meant to be the end to a race (i.e. dating), but the beginning of a long climb. There will be peaks and valleys along the way and it is how we deal with these peaks and valleys that will help determine whether or not a couple will make it or part ways halfway up the mountain. Now that I am more conscious of my own flaws, I hope that my reactions to stressful situations in the future will be more positive; helping us to keep climbing the mountain of marriage till death do us part.
A few years back, we did not realize that one of our licenses was expired. Again, we were able to sweet talk our way through security. This year, however, we forgot to check the bag containing my wife’s makeup. The TSA agent gave us two alternatives; go back past security and check the bag or leave over $200 worth of makeup with him to be thrown away. No sweet-talking our way out of this in a post shoe/underwear bomber world!
My wife looked to me, the experienced traveler, for advice. All that would come out of my mouth (in front of our kids and the TSA agent) was, “How could you forget to check that bag?” said in a condescending tone. This was, of course, not the correct response. It was completely disrespectful as it was a completely honest mistake on her part. I was frustrated because I did not want her to loose all of her makeup but I also did not feel as if we had enough time to go back through security to check the bag.
After I calmed down, I told my wife that I would pay for all the makeup she would have to replace, but this did not do much to make amends. It was not about the makeup, it was about how I reacted to the situation.
As I sat on the plane, I started to think about my friend Jack who came up to us after church one day with a big hug and said, “Enjoy this now. My wife and I were just with our kids celebrating our 55th wedding anniversary. The next day we found out that Jean (his wife) has terminal cancer. It was not a perfect 55 years, but we loved each other very much. Treasure this time.” With that, he went away in tears. (As an aside, If you have never heard the song Don't Blink by Kenny Chesney, listen to it right now. It could have been written based on Jack and Jean's life together).
I heard that Jean died two weeks ago. We have known Jack and Jean for 6 years, as Jack is the general manager of the swimming club we have belonged to over that time. He was always very social we had many conversations over that time on everything from Catholicism to politics to how fast my children are growing. He and Jean had a relationship to be envied; how many people can make it 55 years?
My reaction to my wife during the beginning of our trip (as well as other times in our lives) is something that I need to work on. My sense is that these reactions I have stem from a place of both selfishness and impatience. In these situations, what my reactions say is that I place more value on convenience than I do my wife’s feelings. Hopefully, now that I am more conscious of this tendency in my own life, I will be able to choose a better response.
Jack’s words to me after mass that day remind me that marriage is not meant to be the end to a race (i.e. dating), but the beginning of a long climb. There will be peaks and valleys along the way and it is how we deal with these peaks and valleys that will help determine whether or not a couple will make it or part ways halfway up the mountain. Now that I am more conscious of my own flaws, I hope that my reactions to stressful situations in the future will be more positive; helping us to keep climbing the mountain of marriage till death do us part.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Not for a day, a week, or a college term, but for life!
If you ever wonder whether or not you have true friends, I’ll offer a litmus test; don’t see or talk to some for 10 years. Then, randomly, pick a night to go out to dinner/drinks with them and, if after all that time, you can sit down and pick up as if you saw each other yesterday, it is safe to say that you have some true friends.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
