For Carol’s 50th Birthday - Prequel to “A Memoir”

This year I sent my little sister Carol a Denver Bronco Jersey and card letting her know I wanted to give her something special for her 50^th birthday.    I'm fully aware she’s still years away from reaching this noteworthy milestone, but I’ve actually thought this one out.  I’ve even told our Mom my plans earlier this month so she can back me up if Carol claims this is just an elaborate ruse to cover up some sort of mental lapse.

 

 

With barely a teaspoon of effort, I can hear Carol’s conversation with Kevin when she opened the package.  “Doesn’t Kelly even know how old I am?  Do you think this may be the initial stages of Alzheimer’s?  I won’t divulge what likely surfaced in Kevin’s rational mind since he’d probably consider  it a breach of confidentiality on par with  insider trading, but he probably  replied in a deadpan voice (For those who know Kevin, don’t deny you’re also  hearing it) with something like, “Carol, I’m absolutely sure Kelly’s mental capacity is significantly better than  it was during his twenties. “  Anyway, I wasn’t the least  surprised when Carol sent me a bubbly Thank You message tactfully letting me know, “I also look forward to wearing it on my actual 50th birthday in a couple of years!!  It will be broken in and really comfy!”  Maybe, Carol should close her eyes and take a small step into her much more mature brother’s wonderful world of wisdom.

 

 

Imagine this.  Carol is wearing the jersey.  Someone remarks, “What a nice jersey, where did you get it?”  Carol replies, “My big brother gave it to me for me for my 50^th birthday.”  Then they utter the words truly going through their mind, “In my wildest imagination, I’d never have guessed you were already 50, How do you do it?”  It’s like a virtual fountain of youth Carol!  Please don’t ruin everything by confessing the gift was just given years too soon.

I could’ve easily just given Carol a Peyton Manning jersey and hopefully she’d of been golden for at least a year or two, but as I stated earlier I’m putting much more effort these days into thinking things through.    I still remember my son Bobby’s devastation when Mike Piazza left the Dodgers many years back.  Still a little boy, he had hard time comprehending how his favorite baseball player in the entire world could’ve ever left his favorite team.  He was to way too young to be faced with the business reality of professional sports.  All it takes is for Kinkos to be closed and suddenly your heart is broken and you’re the proud owner of an obsolete Elvis Dumervil jersey. 
 

 

 

Carol will eventually receive a Tim Tebow New York Jet’s jersey to keep her Denver Bronco’s Tim Tebow jersey company in the closet. I also picked up a Brady Quinn Bronco jersey from the same vender as a backup just in case Tebow gets poked with a hanger and can’t play. I wish I hadn’t been so cheap and spent another $4 for a Joe Montana Kansas City Chief jersey. When I got home, I realized he could’ve been the seasoned veteran mentor Tebow needs to finally get things turned around. I also changed my mind about the extra-large Brady Quinn jersey. I’m going to give it to a friend who’s a “big” Seattle fan. Besides, Carol doesn’t need a quarterback controversy in her closet.

 

 

Selecting number "12" for Carol’s jersey is significant. Even though I like the idea of it representing the fan as the “12^th Man,” it’s just a nice and totally appropriate coincidence. I didn’t want to select an active, recent  or well known player. Using "7" (John Elway) for example, could've ended up being awkward. I’ve included a link showing everyone who ever wore number 12 for the Broncos.   After reviewing the list myself, I'm pretty sure Carol is safe.

http://www.milehighreport.com/2011/3/29/2076832/denver-broncos-greats-by-the-numbers-12-charley-johnson-matthew-willis

*Please note that Gus Frerotte was a Washington Redskin when he put himself out of the game by head-butting the stadium wall in a touchdown celebration.

 

I left home when Carol was still a little girl and never got to know her well. In December of 2008, Carol sent me a story she wrote. Before then, I’d never realized we’d shared our Dad’s passion for Bronco football and her words touched my heart. This is a prequel to her story.

 

Our Dad was a big Denver Bronco football fan. One of his greatest achievements as County Commissioner was putting a UHF tower in Firstview Colorado to provide the entire county with three additional television channels out of Colorado Springs. Previously, our town only had one unreliable channel out of Goodland Kansas. I know television in general wasn’t very important to him and his political philosophy on spending money was to always say“NO!” Anytime he caught me watching TV before dinner, I’d be given a task off his never ending list of chores. While he never came right out and told me, I suspected losing TV reception right in the middle of a Bronco game was the straw that broke the camel’s back and convinced him to support spending a few tax dollars on the project.

I started watching Bronco games with my Dad for a simple reason.  I didn’t have a choice.  We only had one channel.  Even when we did get three more channels, we only had one TV, and the game was going to be on regardless of what was showing on the others.  The Broncos weren’t a good team.  While there was always a glimmer of hope and guarded optimism at the start of the season, it was usually short lived.   The Broncos had never achieved a single winning season in the team’s first 13 years.  I don’t fully understand how being constantly beat down and disappointed can build loyalty and desire, but I soon found myself caring alongside Dad.   By 1972, thoughts of ever making the playoffs or even having a winning season were beyond belief.   Hope was confined to beating a few of the other lousy teams and possibly pulling off an upset or two.

Denver won the first game of the 1972 season, but lost the next three.   The usual demands to fire the coach and replace the quarterback had already started.  I’ve taken a couple of paragraphs from the following link that gets to the heart of the next two games.   

http://www.milehighreport.com/2009/3/27/769891/mhr-s-forgotten-broncos-ch%20

*Early in the second period, Coach John Ralston pulled Steve Ramsey and put in Charley Johnson at quarterback.

“After an exchange of punts the Broncos got the ball back with less than eight minutes left in the game. We weren't much of a passing team in those days and Ralston orchestrated a time-gobbling twelve play drive. Charley Johnson executed it perfectly. With less than a minute to go Floyd Little scored his third touchdown of the day and the Broncos took a 20-16 lead. The fans went wild. Their beloved Denver Broncos were on the cusp of defeating one of the best teams in the NFC. Unfortunately Fran Tarkenton wasn't done. The hearts of the Bronco players and fans were ripped out once again as Tarkenton engineered a drive and scored with seconds left. The Broncos were defeated 20-23.”

Try as I may, I can't seem to recall this game with Minnesota.   Most Denver games were either blowouts (the bad end) or heartbreakers.

“The second elite opponent Denver would face that month would be the hated division rivals, the Oakland Raiders. The Broncos, up until this point, had lost twenty consecutive games against the dirty-rotten scoundrels and their chief henchman in Al Davis, but that streak was about to end. In probably the greatest game the Broncos' fans had ever seen from their team up until that point, Charley Johnson and the Broncos doggedly hung tough with the more talented Raiders all game long, upsetting the eventual AFC West Division Champions, 30-23 in Oakland.

Charley Johnson completed over 70% of his passes and threw for 361 yards and two touchdowns with a quarterback rating of 137.5. It would easily be Johnson's best game of his entire fifteen-year career.”

When the game clock hit zero, Dad leapt from his chair and started dancing a jig.  I’d never seen anything like that from him in my entire life, but I guess I’d also never seen Denver beat Oakland before either.  I guess you have to be a Bronco fan, or at least lived in Denver, to understand our relationship with the Raiders.  Denver lost considerably more games than they won in 1972, but Charlie Johnson, number “12”, finally gave Bronco fans a winning season.  The Bronco’s beat the Raiders and I saw my Dad dance!

Death and Taxes

 

In 1789, Benjamin Franklin wrote, ““Our new Constitution is now established, everything seems to promise it will be durable; but, in this world, nothing is certain except death and taxes.”  I’m guessing most people have only heard the “nothing is certain except death and taxes” part and probably don’t know it was originally penned in French shortly before the end of Franklin’s life.   Anyway, those additional details were new to me.   The letter was sent during the French Revolution to a friend Franklin was worried about.  For those of you who are also easily tempted into rambling down side roads, a link is provided:

 http://www.thisdayinquotes.com/2010/11/nothing-is-certain-except-death-and.html

For those who’ve remained on the main road (or somehow returned from the detour), I would like to bookend this paragraph with a quote by Will Rogers, “The only difference between death and taxes is that death doesn't get worse every time Congress meets.”

I didn’t actually take leave today to scour the Internet for historical background on Benjamin Franklin quotes, ponder the eventual demise facing us all, and certainly not to document all the interesting Internet sites I’ve visited today.  While I’ve been unequivocally prepared for my inevitable departure from this world for a good many years, I’ve only just started this year’s taxes today.  I began the morning well enough.  I downloaded all the forms and stacked all my supporting documents in organized piles.  However, my stomach vetoed my head’s desire to press forward with the day’s primary task.  Besides, I always get extra credit from Hyesuk when I willingly participate in our domestic chores.

Breakfast was great!  I made a delicious and healthy breakfast of bacon, eggs, hash browns, and a full pot of Starbuck’s coffee.  For those interested in learning more about the substantial health benefits of eating bacon and drinking coffee, I’ve included a link and an authoritative quote:

 http://www.medicalbillingschool.org/blog/health-benefits-of-bacon-infographic/?clean 

 Denise Webb has stated, “A recent study at the University of California at Davis even suggests that coffee may be good for you ... freshly brewed coffee contains antioxidant compounds that may carry as much power as vitamins C and E.” 



Thanks Ricky for sharing this.

 

During my last health checkup, my doctor actually agreed that coffee is beneficial (without sugar and cream), but he just cringed and shook his head on the bacon part.  Obviously, he doesn’t spend enough time on the Internet.  Otherwise, he’d be more inclined to listen to the sage wisdom of Thomas Jefferson, “I had rather be shut up in a very modest cottage with my books, my family and a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post, which any human power can give.”

After dropping Hyesuk off at work, spending a few hours at the library, buying groceries, and finishing lunch, I finally sat down at the computer.   Then I remembered a relevant item I’d been putting off.  Finding my July 24 post in Facebook only took a few minutes:

Our IRS saga continues. Today I received a letter that one inquiry is closed and Amount Due is $0.00. Such an empty victory. I so wanted another paragraph admitting I was right and they were wrong. On another note, they sent us a check, earlier in the week, for almost $4,500 for another year's return. Now I'm torn between listening to Hyesuk telling me to just trust them, or putting myself in a moral dilemma if I discover they're wrong again. Mom said Grandma and Grandpa were once in the same situation and ended up giving the money back. I put the check in the bank today and will look later this week to see if we lose the money or my undefeated season.

Since I was pretty much certain we’d have to send Uncle Sam a check again this year, I needed to find out if the money I’d sent aside earlier was actually ours to give back.  After several hours, the truth was finally revealed through my high school math teacher’s drawling voice, “Kelly, I’m afraid you mistakenly used Kit Carson Wildcat mathematics.  In Tiger Algebra, it’s divide and then subtract, not subtract first and then divide.”  For those of you who knew Mr. Teague, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you can also still hear his voice, remember how Calculus saved his life in WWII, or the guidance he gave to Waylon Jennings, “Just in case making music doesn’t work out Waylon, you ought to consider learning some Geometry and Trigonometry.”  My brother Gary did a great impersonation of Mr. Teague, and like Waylon, received personalized career advice from him, “Just in case you don’t make it as a comedian Gary,...”   I don’t much like admitting when I’m wrong and probably would’ve just kept quiet about my error if fond memories of Mr. Teague hadn’t surfaced.    In my own words, “Great teachers make a big difference for a long time.”

My experience with the Ghost of Past Taxes left me mentally drained, somewhat conflicted between my fallibility and good fortune, and totally unprepared to battle my present foe.  I decided a long hot bath would solve all my problems. Actually, everything above resulted from this decision.  After quickly jotting down a few notes on my blog ideas, I took a nap.

 

My nap ended with Hyesuk calling about her ride.    On the way home, I took her out for dinner and snapped a picture for the blog.  After we got home, I started writing everything down on the computer.  That's where I am now.  Hyesuk has already gone to bed (another way of saying it’s well past my normal bedtime).  Looking back on the day, I don’t have any regrets, especially over the nap.  I even have a new found respect for an honest tax auditor who gives money back with the same righteous zeal as when taking it.  Besides, I still have two days  to, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s.”

 

 

 

A Day in the Dog House

 

I'm in the Dog House. I'd gotten away pretty much unscathed from the land mines I planted in last week’s "Truth" blog, but inadvertently stepped on one this weekend. After finding out about Laura’s friend, Hyesuk launched a full-scale Internet investigation and wasn’t all too pleased with some of the information she was uncovering. It was probably wrong of me not to let her know she was researching the wrong young man or let it go on for so long, but I fell prey to free entertainment and was tempted by the interesting story possibilities. Also, I really should learn to speak softly, because Hyesuk never damaged her ears listening to loud music and overheard me sharing the details of her Snipe Hunt on the phone with Laura. In an agitated voice, she let me know, “When you turned 50, you suddenly became a gossipy old woman. I liked you better when you could keep your mouth shut!" I had a glimmer of hope when Hyesuk made me a boiled egg for breakfast this morning. However, my brief optimism on an imminent parole vaporized when she casually informed me she'd also given one to our dog Sam. I know where I’ll be spending the rest of my day J

 

When Laura was a little girl, sending her to her room as punishment never worked. She would hold her head high and march briskly away proclaiming "I want to go to my room!"  Like Laura, I hereby loudly announce,  “I WANT to go to the Dog House!”  Fortunately, mine has a recliner, big screen TV with surround sound, and an adjacent computer room.  Now if I can only convince Sam to leave his heated pad next to Hyesuk in the living room and join me.  I’ve always enjoyed the loyal companionship of dogs.

When I was visiting Mom several years ago, she gave me a portfolio of mementos she’d saved from my childhood. Reading this story over again today, I’m glad my teacher didn’t catch all my mistakes. As Laura and Bobby know quite well, getting a “B” or even a “B+” in grade school pretty much destroys your chances of ever being successful in life. ;) Most importantly, the fourth sentence clearly documents how I felt about dogs as an 8-year-old, “I was glad, because I liked dogs.” Today, I’d be reluctant to write such a controversial piece. Mentioning firearms would certainly result in counseling, if not suspension ;)



My Dog Penny



I’ve always had a strong attachment to dogs. Mom tells a story, from when I was very little, where I was asked to pray at the dinner table.Before starting, I contemplated out loud, “Well …what should I ask for? ...don’t need a dog, already got one.” Even at a young age, I had a pretty good insight into the more important things in life.I fondly remember chasing homemade boats (BB gun in hand) with my dog Penny along an irrigation ditch near our home in Buena Vista Colorado. While there might be some understandable, even though misguided, disagreement with my siblings, I’m absolutely confident Penny was my dog. I just shared her with the rest of the family.What parent wouldn’t want to pass on the joy of canine companionship?What child can resist the suggestion they need a dog?

 

 

 

It goes without saying the two kids jumping up and down were on board, but convincing Hyesuk her children required the unconditional love of a dog wasn’t as easy. A military lifestyle makes keeping pets difficult and even the thought of dog hair was at odds with her cultural obsession with household cleanliness. Convincing her a little dog with short hair wouldn’t be a problem moved her a little. Laura's pleading eyes closed the deal.



My favorite picture of Sam. Taken near Buena Vista Colorado

with My brother's dog Scooter during a cross-country camping vacation.



Our dog Sam turned 15 last December.  He’s almost completely deaf, blind in one eye, and as Bobby commented the Christmas before last, “I’m pretty sure Sam has some mental problems.”  Otherwise, he’s still in pretty good shape and seems to be happy (maybe the mental problems are a blessing).   He’s only recently put on a little weight (strangely parallels my own experience). We normally refrained from feeding him table food as he was growing up, so he hasn’t fallen prey to the back problems many dachshunds experience.  He’ll still chase down his tennis ball every opportunity I give him.  In our sport, he doesn’t give up the ball easily.  He stands in front of me growling until I forcibly remove the ball and give it another fling.   The game used to end when I got tired of throwing the ball and Sam would stride triumphantly over to his bed with the prize.  Now, he’s prone to claim his victory long before I tire.  Regardless, Sam always wins.



 

 

I wish I could say Sam was also my dog, but it wouldn’t be true.  Sam is Laura’s dog. He was the runt of the litter and was being picked on by his brother when we went to choose our pet. Laura thought he needed her protection.  She spent the most time with him. If Laura was going outside, Sam was always welcome to go along.  She was always affectionate to him. When Sam needed scratched behind the ears, Laura was always willing to oblige. I also have a strong suspicion Laura covertly violated Sam's "No Table Food" restriction. I completely understand Sam's attachment to Laura, but I'm a little confused over his complete devotion to Hyesuk.

 

 

My confidence over Sam being Laura's dog is equally matched by a certainty Hyesuk is his nemesis. Her uncanny ability to control human beings through sheer force of will has never worked with Sam. Both of my kids know all to well the dreaded finger shake, the steely-eyed stare down and especially  the crossed arms "Stop that!"  Interestedly enough, a complete lack of success hasn’t hindered her in the slightest. 

   

 

Sam has always liked sleeping on clothes, particularly Hyesuk's,  and still goes to great lengths to satisfy his obsession.  If anything is left remotely within his reach, he'll go to great lengths to gain possession.  Even after all these years, Hyesuk thinks yelling at him will somehow dilute his fixation.   Regardless of her tenacity, if she as so much leaves a shirt draped across a chair, Sam eventually takes ownership. Conversely, the battle of wills has only strengthened Sam's total commitment to her. Sam starts barking whenever I give Hyesuk a hug. If I shake her a little, Sam growls and nips at my ankles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm certain when my kids see this picture; they'll stand up with hands on heads and gasp in total shock.  They'll completely understand their Mom pulling a blanket over her head to avoid an early morning picture, but I'm certain they'll have a hard time believing Sam's presence on the bed (let alone under the blanket).  Just to set the record straight, I didn't stage the photo.  I didn't put the camera on a tripod and cover up my own face.  Also, I don't even know how to use Photoshop.  Bobby and Laura will just have to accept their Mom went soft on a cold day.  I'm certain Sam was equally conflicted between enjoying the comfortable warmth and a lingering feeling of impending doom.

 

 

 

Most of our pictures are in storage and I couldn't find many pictures of Bobby and Sam (none of myself).  Bobby's cousin Josh was the influence behind wearing his hat backwards.

 

Sam’s record as a hunter has been remarkable.  While his diminutive size has limited his victims to the smaller variety; mostly birds, mice, geckos and roaches, he's more than made up for it in quantity.  Unfortunately, he’s also removed Bobby’s parakeet and a visiting hamster (see http://kellykonecne.blogspot.kr/2012/03/save-jerry-tale-of-murder-canabilism.html )

from their earthly existence.   He was exceptionally adept at taking out the rather large variety  roaches in Hawaii.  Whenever, Hyesuk encountered one, she’d yell “SAM, ROACH!” and he’d come running to take it out.  I’m sure her enthusiasm and praise encouraged Sam’s common practice of delivering the prey he found and vanquished on his own to her feet.   







A picture of Sam when he was still a minature dachshund.  Unfortunately, pictures of Chocolate are all in storage

In California, Sam shared the yard with a large rabbit named Chocolate.  Hyesuk liked to go outside and holler “SAM, WHERE’S CHOCOLATE!”  Sam would take after Chocolate, and Chocolate would run away for a while.  Eventually, Chocolate would have enough and turn to fight.  Sam’s usual response was to keep his distance and bark for a while.  The few times he didn't, he paid the price.  Chocolate was tough (approaching mean) and twice Sam’s size.  Long after Chocolate found a new home, Hyesuk entertained herself by sending Sam into a frenzied search  by yelling his name. 

 

 

 

 

 

 Bobby and Laura used to play a game they called "Bucket Heads."  They'd walk around the house with buckets on their heads and a lunch box in hand.  I never really understood why they carried lunch boxes, but I guess it makes just about as much sense as wearing the buckets.  Unfortunately, the game usually ended in tears and little sympathy from their Mom.  "What did you think was going to happen when you started walking around with buckets on your head?"  You can tell Bobby has more experience.  He's cautiously feeling his way around.  On the other hand, Laura is confidently striding directly toward the blocks she dumped from her bucket earlier and a likely second place finish.  For anyone considering turning us in to Child Protective Services, both kids are over 21 now and I'm fairly certain we're well beyond the statute of limitations.  At first glance, this photo seems off topic.  That is until you see the eery similarity in the next one.

 

 

 Sam has his own game called, "anything that hits the floor belongs to me." Unfortunately, being on all fours and not having opposable thumbs seriously limits his ability to carry a lunch box.  Please note that anyone considering turning me in to the Humane Society for running for the camera instead of immediately coming to his aid should probably reconsider.  The event took place in Korea, well outside their jurisdiction, and where regrettably the distinction between pet and dinner is often blurred.

 

 

 

Hyesuk bought Sam a heating pad last fall to keep him warm. She’s also relaxed the rules on table food. I bought a case of hot dogs and every day when I arrive home he follows me to the refrigerator and I give him half of one.  The other day I came home and sat down on the couch first.  He almost went berserk until I fulfilled my responsibility.  I guess you can teach an old dog.  You just have to be loud and persistent.

 

 

 

Hyesuk's treatment of Sam is encouraging.  While she seems to be mean today, someday she'll make sure I keep warm and let me eat anything I want to.

 



Very few dogs ever really master proper pillow usage



 

Telling the Truth, Keeping Secrets, and Paying the Piper

 I had this picture on my computer until my wonderful wife “nagged” me into removing it the other day.   She didn’t like the way she looked and I allowed myself to be bullied into compliance.  Today, every grain of wisdom I’ve accumulated over fifty some years is whispering “reconsider.”  Regardless, my mind is made up.  I’m posting it to the Internet.

 

This is my current wallpaper, completely vetted and approved by my lovely soul mate.  I think she likes being a little taller.  Actually, she’s really just standing on a rock and everyone needs to know it because “it’s the truth!”  

 

I have a good deal of firsthand experience with telling the truth.  During the first few years of our marriage, Hyesuk fastidiously ironed my clothes.  However, my good fortune suddenly ended one cold rainy day in Misawa Japan.   As I was dressing for work, I made an offhand remark, “You didn’t do a very good job ironing my uniform.”  At the time, I didn’t realize the ramifications of her instant response to my totally honest declaration.   “I’ll never iron for you again!”  Twenty some years down the road, the sincerity of her long past pronouncement is completely understood.   Now that I’ve opened a can of worms with all this honesty, I’ve pretty much guaranteed that Hyesuk will be opening her own can of something.   Maybe, I should’ve put more thought into keeping quiet.

 

Hyesuk is much better at pragmatically deciding what should be shared and when best to keep silent, but even she has moments of weakness.   A few months back, during a relaxing dinner out on the town, and after atypically imbibing a glass of red wine, she opened up and shared, “Do you realize that when you get mad, you clam up and compulsively start working?  You wash the car, do the laundry, clean the house, …” Then she leaned forward and whispered, “Do you want to know something else?”  “I sometimes start fights just to get things done.”  After well over twenty years of golden eggs, an appropriate mourning period for Hyesuk’s deceased goose will be observed.   I’m also considering bringing home a bottle of red wine.

 

I’m assuming the gene determining the brain’s control of the tongue is passed down from the mother’s side, because both our kids, Bobby in particular, take after their Mom.  While I wasn’t able to extract a confession, Bobby’s panicked face and wild eyes betrayed him while the TV remote was violently microwaving.  As for Laura, her earlier possession of a grilled cheese sandwich made her the prime suspect when a remarkably similar sandwich showed up inside the VCR.   Unfortunately, I’ve never conclusively identified the culprit(s) responsible for our greatest unsolved household crime.    I’m sure both of them remember making “Chicken Soup” when they were little kids growing up in Japan.  They enjoyed mixing dirt, water, leaves, grass, and anything else readily available in their red wagon.  I’d still like to know whose idea it was to take it a step farther.  Fortunately, my smiling supervisor readily accepted, “I stuck my foot in a boot full of mud” as a credible reason for being late.  While pleading the Fifth is understandable, keeping quiet out of concern for another can even be admirable.

 

One day when Bobby was in Kindergarten, Hyesuk sat down on the couch and closed her eyes for a moment.  When her eyes opened again, they could see from the clock on the wall the time for picking Bobby up was more than an hour past.  She rushed to the school in a panic and was relieved to find Bobby patiently waiting on the steps.  That evening, I asked Bobby why he didn’t go to the office for help.  He replied, “I knew Mom would come and I didn’t want to get her in trouble.”  While I was pretty firm with him on what to do the next time, I was secretly proud of his confidence and selfless concern for his Mom.  Since it never happened again, I’ll never know if my occasionally stubborn son would’ve ever followed my direction.

 

While we’re on the subject of Kindergarten, I’d like to share another story.  Our military tour in Misawa Japan ended two weeks before Bobby was to complete Kindergarten.   He was livid about not leaving. “If I don’t finish ‘X’, ‘Y’, and ‘Z’, my future will be ruined!”  Even though he’d already learned the entire alphabet by 18 months, his Mom’s fanatical indoctrination on the importance of education overwhelmed my feeble attempts to reason with him, “You don’t need ‘X’ and ‘Z’ at all to get by in life and missing ‘Y’ won’t hurt you very much.”  Despite Bobby’s adamant objection, we still had to leave early.  Fortunately, he overcame adversity and will soon prove me right by graduating from college.  Regardless, he can still keep a secret.

 

A couple of months back, Bobby called me at work about going to the emergency room and the status of his health insurance.  My first question after, “How bad are you hurt?” was “Did you tell your Mom?”  After getting the answers I hoped for, “I’ll live” and “Are you kidding?”  We both knew his Mom would be on the first plane to Hawaii if her baby had so much as a hangnail.  I let him know he he’d been insured for two weeks and that he should probably send a thank you note to President Obama.   In keeping with my current theme of political ambiguity, I’m not going to choose sides.  However, allowing parents to insure their kids until they are 26 makes sense.  In contrast, I cringe at the requirements being levied on small businessmen.   Getting back to Bobby’s predicament, I’m somewhat sorry for ratting you out Son. Hey, but I guess that’s just the price you’re going to have to pay for keeping secrets from your Mom.

 

Laura can keep quiet, but she also likes to share.  One day, when she was a very little girl, Laura whispered softly to me, “Daddy, tell me a secret.”  With little thought, I whispered back in her tiny ear the first thing that came to mind and she ran away giggling.  Every so often over the next few years, she’d pull me aside and ask, “What’s our secret?” and I’d gladly oblige in continuing our sweet ritual.  When asked last Christmas, Laura still remembered our game, but also shared she’d never really been all that impressed with the actual secret.  I considered letting everyone make their own judgment by revealing it today, but truthfully it isn’t something I’m ready to let it go.  Besides, I’m about to divulge considerably more interesting information.

 

During a phone conversation several weeks back, Laura asked, “Has Bobby told you anything about getting hit by a car on his skateboard?”  I didn’t know anything about a car.  From our short emergency room conversation, I knew he had an accident and was scrapped up pretty good, but we never got around to discussing how it actually happened.  Bobby rides a long skateboard for transportation and also races down steep inclines at high rates of speed for recreation.  I just assumed he took a fall doing the latter.  Regardless, I’m sure Bobby’s Mom will collect any other relevant details I neglected to gather.   Laura also casually mentioned she saw Bobby’s friends pushing his truck to get it going.  This I knew about.  Bobby went to the junk yard to get a new starter.  After watching a video on YouTube, he successfully accomplished the installation and pocketed the savings for more meaningful uses.  I was so proud!  Then she suggested I ask Bobby about his Espresso machine.  Talk about strange, I just finished the last sentence and Laura called.

 

Not only was the timing of Laura’s call extremely eerie, but the ensuing conversation handed me (and probably Bobby) a much welcome “Get out of Jail Free Card” and necessitated a significant change to my outline.  I originally planned to deflect some of Hyesuk’s potential rage by reminding her of one of Laura’s blog postings.

 

http://hoorayitslaura.blogspot.kr/2011/07/37365-nostalgia-and-angry-korean-mother.html

 

Laura knows how to push her Mom’s buttons and has a knack for capturing her response in photographs and video.  I wonder if Laura suffered any emotional scars over being hit with a cardboard tube?  I also wonder what Hyesuk’s response to the next paragraph will be?

 

 On the phone, Laura told me she was considering bringing a young man with her to Korea this summer and wanted to know if I had any problem with it.  Of course I have a problem!  South Korea doesn’t have the right to bear arms and I’ll be robbed of the opportunity to perform the traditional cleaning of the firearms as he walks in the door.  On the other hand, I do have a friend who owns a vintage polygraph machine.  Actually, I know I don’t have to protect Laura.  She is her Mother’s daughter and can take care of herself.  Regardless, I’m always available if needed.   Laura promised me a photo and I would’ve liked to include it in this posting.  On the other hand (if necessary) I can always tell Hyesuk, “I’ll let you see the picture when you start acting amicably towards me again.” :)

 

I’ve told the truth, I’ve kept and shared secrets, and I’m  now ready to make my closing arguments to a trusted jury of family and friends.

 

 

 

Take a closer look at the picture through my eyes.  One gaze and I travel back to a relaxing vacation in a cabin on the beach in Hawaii.  I see a night owl who reluctantly crawled out of her cozy bed to watch the sunrise with her early bird husband.  I smell the sweet aroma of coffee and feel the warmth of the cup.  I hear the surf lapping against the shore and pleasant conversation on a leisurely stroll down a secluded beach.  Most importantly, I feel her overwhelming presence and see the ever present spark in her eyes.  I truly love this picture and hope she’ll see it anew.

 

After casting all this bread on the water, I’ll sit here anxiously awaiting its return.  Will Bobby be aggravated with me for spilling the beans about his accident, or will he be preoccupied with his Mom?  Will conflict arise over the little tidbits Laura shared and I disclosed?   Will I have to use my “Get of Jail Free photo? “ What will happen if I tell Hyesuk, “You didn’t do a very good job shopping today?”  Most importantly, will my words bring back aggravation or affection from Hyesuk?  Right now, it’s too close to call so I’m preparing for both.  I’ve already cleaned the house, washed the car and finished the laundry.