Tramps like us

The boys got a trampoline from Pops for their birthday and have been jumping for two days straight. I've never spent much time on one and honestly, I just don't get the appeal of bouncing up and down and up and down. Bouncing over here and bouncing over there. "Look Dad! I'm bouncing!" This goes on for hours and hours. Adam started calling it tramp time. "Hey Dad, tonight before bed can I get a little tramp time?" Which is a really creepy thing to hear your 11 yr old say. I guess things could be worse; at least all of this tramp talk is getting them off their tablets.

"WHAT?!?! I can't go to bed yet, I've not been on my tablet?!?!?!?"

I hear this at least twice a week. What a first world problem to have; how dare you send me to bed without letting me stare at some idiot who posted a video online of himself playing video games. When I was kid the only time we watched other people play video games was when there were three kids around and only two controllers. The kid whose house you were at was sure to get one so one of us other two were just out of luck. That's how you knew who he liked best; the one he gave the other controller to was his best friend. It's like what happens every week on the Bachelor, except instead of a rose you got an Atari controller and a chance to play Pac-man while the other kid just had to sit like a dope and act like he wasn't crying inside. "It's alright...I uh I got to play last time...you go ahead man, I'm kinda bored with it anyway. I'll just watch. Help you strategize from the sideline."

The second they had to go to bathroom though you were all over it. You'd be trying to make folks drink. "Man it's hot in here. You thirsty? Need a snack? I got some pretzels at home, I could go get them if you want some."  Sitting behind them making that noise that sounds like dripping water when you hold your mouth right and thump your throat. The other kid's just holding it in, breaking out in a cold sweat, doubled over saying "I don't have to pee! This is how I sit!"

Adam was sitting there the other day and started shouting out "He's live! Dave is live! Where's he at? He's live! I can't find him. He's in the meow world! I can't find him!" Alex came running from the other room "Find him!! Find Dave!" The neighbors probably think Dave is our cat and we lost him last Sunday.

I saw an elderly lady

I had to pop over to the house today on my lunch break to check on something real quick. About a block from our turn in, there was an elderly lady that was slowly making her way down the sidewalk. I've missed some opportunities to help people lately and I promised myself as I drove past that five minutes later on my way back through I'd stop and offer her a ride to anywhere she needed to go. Sure enough as I backed out of the driveway a few short minutes later, there she was shuffling her way down our street. Although the sun was out, it had no impact on the freezing temps outside today as it barely managed to get above freezing. She was bundled up in a pink coat, with a crocheted toboggan over her head, and thick gloves grasping her walker. Slowly and steadily pushing herself down the street as if oblivious to the cars passing her by at times, she just kept going step by step.

I pulled over to the curb just close enough to get her attention, but far enough away to not scare her into thinking I was up to no good. I left the car running, the heat jetting out full blast, and asked her if she wanted a ride. With a big smile she said no thank you. I urged her to reconsider, but could tell the frail lady in front of me was set on making her own way. I asked if she was out getting exercise or was running an errand, to which she responded that she was almost to where she needed to be and besides she would have to walk back to her home anyway so why not just keep going. She then told me she was 94 years old, had lived in this area all her life, and then said two things that I hope will stay with me for quite some time.

"Would you believe I'm 94 years old and I've never had a bad day? Not one bad day in all my years." She laughed after the words came out and so did I. Partly because it felt lately that everyday had been a challenge for me recently and partly because I think I understood that what she was really saying was that no matter how bad things had gotten for her, every moment had been worth it in the long run. We all have struggles. We all suffer traumatic and dramatic experiences....it's whether or not we let them change who we are that's the real test. I don't doubt the elderly lady I met today had nights where she couldn't stop the tears from coming and weeks when she wondered why things happened the way they did, but there scooting herself down the street on a freezing cold Wednesday morning...she couldn't help herself but tell a complete stranger how every one of those days was precious and there wasn't a truly bad on in the bunch.

After a few moments of idle conversation, I tried one last time to take her to her next stop and then made my way back to the office. Honestly I never really even heard where she was headed, but I appreciate the place she brought me to at that moment.

On a less serious note; the second thing she said that shocked me was that she lived in Williamsburg apartments which are a mile and a half from where I stopped her on the side of the road. A 94 year old woman had walked a mile and a half in thirty-five degree weather, wind blowing, pushing a walker, and I can't get on my exercise bike for longer than ten minutes.

In both cases it seems I've got some work to do.

Bracket Racket

March Madness kicks off this week and like most years, I did a bracket. Also like most years I tell all my buddies how I've been keeping up with college basketball all season so this year my bracket is solid because I know what I'm talking about...which I haven't and I don't. Not that I'm admitting to lying, it's just that my idea of keeping up with basketball basically amounts to watching Sports Nation every night. Most of the time they don't even cover college sports. Basically I hover over college basketball and watch a few games a month.

Still though I like the competition that comes with everyone in the office creating a bracket. A few years back I managed to even come in 2nd place in a local challenge and won $100 in free snow-cones. Plus most sports are more interesting if you have something on the line even if it is bragging rights. Maybe I should do a bracket with the boys this year just to see who will win. Start a new tradition in the house with the winner getting a big sandwich or their favorite meal. Might be a blast!

Once he was 7 years old

Yesterday we celebrated Alex's 7th birthday. The boys were born 4 yrs and 8 days a part so we try to make things special for them by having individual family parties followed by a larger gathering a month later. Lex picked Olive Garden as the site for his birthday lunch so Mo, Houston, Gigi, Pops, Brock, Brooke, Tate, Nani, Adam, Mandy, and I all met for a tomato sauce and garlic covered bash. The man of the hour cleaned his plate and also cleaned up with a ton of Pokemon stuff. He even managed to have his wish for birthday snow somehow granted with a light dusting of the white stuff on the ground when he woke up.

There was a lot that went wrong this weekend, but we got Sunday right. Alex was all smiles while being celebrated by some of his favorite people. After all is said and done it's those family relationships that mater the most in life after of course a strong relationship with God. People come in and out of your life and you think that they will always be there, but when the rubber meets the road it's your family that prove they are the ones that will always have your back. You may treat each other like dirt sometimes, but you always find a way to love each other in spite of everyone's flaws. 

No time to remember what this is about

A ton of stuff going on this week, none of it involves getting any rest. Mandy says that I talk about how tired I am at least ten times a day. She's right of course as I can't ever seem to get energized enough. It doesn't help that there is always fifty things going on around the house. Baseball evaluations tonight (which meant getting Adam used to throwing the ball again for the past few weeks), date night this weekend, we got a new couch (thanks Pops!) so the old one is sitting in the dinning room waiting to sell, beside it is a box spring & mattress for Mandy's guest bed that can't be put into the guest room until all the storage is taken to a locker which can't happen until it quits raining every Saturday.

Both boys have birthdays in the next ten days which will bring two private parties so they feel special and then one larger gathering for friends. Adam is studying for the play he has the lead role in (Come see him as Charlie in Willy Wonka this May). My car keeps dying when we least expect it, only to come back to life moments later. Alex just runs around like a crazy person bumping into things half the time. At any given moment I wouldn't be shocked if my phone rang to tell me he's broken a bone. Last month I had to run up to the school because his nose starting bleeding. Typically nose bleeds are caused by dry air or too much picking, but not with Alex. He was playing in gym and ran face first into a wall. I'm not surprised. I once saw Adam run straight into a wooden column at church, do a back-flip, wet himself, and take off running after his friends. Both kids come home all bruised up and never have any idea how they took such a beating. You would think a purple golf-ball sized lump on the leg would at least leave a person with some type of memory even if it's just to serve as a reminder to never do whatever caused it again. Nope!! The same discussion takes place week after week; Me "How did that happen?!" Them "I don't know".

How they can both be so smart and so unaware of what their daily life is like?

"What did you do at school today?"
"How did you do on that spelling test?"
"Did you get to play outside?"
"How did your hair catch on fire?"

I don't know is the answer to all of the above. Sometimes I just stare at them and wonder how they have walking around sense. Of course it must be a genetic problem because you can forget me remembering any conversation after 9:00 p.m. I may be up and walking around until 11:00 p.m., but the brain clocks out at 9:00 p.m.

Mandy and I also have the same conversation at least twice a week:

" Don't forget you promised me (fill in the blank)"
"That wasn't me! I never said I'd do that!"
"Yes you did Bill Beck. You sat right there and promised me it would get done today!"
"What time was it when I made this promise?"
"I didn't write it down, but it was like 9:15."
"What was I doing?"
"You came in the living room around 8:30 and was watching that basketball game that ended in overtime."
"The game went into overtime! I don't remember anything after the first half! Okay I'll do it."

It's a wonder she doesn't drive around in a convertible. All she would have to do is tell me she asked me at 9:30 the night before and I'd have no choice but to agree and sign the registration.

In Just A Minute

This has been sitting in my Edit file for two years. I just happen to see it there today. It's a bit melodramatic, but it was written in good intentions. 

People say that life can change in an instant. If you've ever heard the sound of your first child crying the moment it entered this bright and noisy world, you know this to be true. If you've ever spent half your life searching for that one true love only to see her across the room as if by accident, you understand how quickly circumstances can change. Maybe you woke up one morning to find life has dealt you another hand; I suppose tragedy happens just as quickly as triumph. Suddenly you are swept away in an avalanche of sadness struggling to swim to the surface, to catch a quick breath before you are pulled under again. One moment you are bored by the mundane rituals of the world, seconds later you stand begging for life to be stale once again. It's in these times when you find yourself spun around looking at what just happened and thanking God for watching over you. With that in mind I bring this week's article.

His name isn't as important as what happened to him on that dark stretch of interstate I65 South. I say that with a grain of salt of course. I'm sure his name meant something to somebody. He was most certainly a son to a caring mother, possibly a father to a young innocent child. No doubt he was loved by God regardless of whether he understood that himself or not. I pray he'd spent a portion of his life in the arms of somebody that loved him deeply. That he knew God and His power to grant everlasting life. I wonder if he knows of the hours my family has spent thinking about his these past couple of weeks. 

It'd been a terribly long day spent helping my grandparents move, driving hours on end with two very loud boys, and the last thing any of us wanted was to be stuck in a traffic jam for an hour & a half at 8:30 on a Saturday night. Understandably at first we weren't interested in anything but getting home. Mistakenly certain that what lay just around the next corner was nothing more than a simple fender bender that in turn had been exasperated by slow moving police. As the minutes began to accumulate though we began to understand something very tragic had occurred up ahead. 

Even a week later the details are sparse. This stranger to me...this unknown motorist somehow found himself on the side of the road and in search of help. Whether by being involved in a minor car accident or engine trouble, the end result was the same...he was alone on a particularly dark section of the interstate and needed help. What happened next is too graphic for this venue, but simply put the stranded motorist ended his time on this earth while attempting to cross traffic that did not see him coming. Such a sad way to go...such a tragic way to leave this world behind.

The more we began to learn of what caused the delay in our return trip home, the more we began to imagine what might have been that night. What had put him at that place at that time? What minor adjustments of time could have prevented his death? What if it had been us that had caused his end had we not stopped at one more store or picked a slower restaurant? What would life have been like for everyone had things just not gone the way they did on that lonely stretch of I65? 

God has a plan. For this you can be certain. We may struggle with the situations we find ourselves in, but a plan exists never the less. The future is a frightening concept full of all sorts of nightmares and goblins and as scary as tomorrow might be, I can't think of anything more terrifying than facing it without God....without knowing the love of Jesus Christ. I used to think that someday I would get baptized when I was ready, I'm so very thankful God gave me the chance to live that long. I pray this man knew God, that his family has found peace in knowing he's now in The Saviors arms, and that they have found a way to live for today rather than wait for tomorrow.

Bill Beck iii

Between the hours of....

I don't talk about work much in this arena. Some of that is because I never know who is reading my stuff and I worry about the consequences of casting my place of employment in a negative light. The biggest reason I never talk about it though is that there's rarely anything to discuss. Simply put I have the Chandler Bing of jobs. It pays good, it's close to home, decent benefits, and I'm a pro at it, but very few people know what I actually do. That being said I'm not chasing down criminals all night or teaching the youth of today quantum physics or pulling apart an engine out of a Mustang GT. I'm in accounting. I stare at spread sheets and debate their meanings all day. Yes it can be challenging at times. Yes there are also office politics involved. No I can't see myself doing anything different. I go in at 8:00 a.m,lunch at 12:30, and leave at 5:00 p.m. I have good days and bad days, but after all is said and done life for me is what happens when I'm not at work. My family and friends. Laughing, enjoying each others time, learning how to be a better father, son, and friend. I'm fortunate to have a good job. My job isn't who I am though. 

Marching toward adulthood

The kids are turning 7 and 11 in the next two weeks. Everyone tells you to hold on to every second of their childhood because one day you will wake up and they will be gone. When it's said you smile and say they are right, but you never truly understand what that means until its too late. It's happening too fast and I can't hold tight enough. 

Alex is a curly haired mess of overreactions and quick comebacks. He routinely bellows, yells, screams, and hollers his every emotion. The master of comic relief, his only goal in life is to laugh and cuddle. He meets me at the door every night with a hug and urgent demand for my singular attention. 

Adam is stoic and remorseful. He's quick to react and even quicker to get his feelings hurt. He demands perfection from himself but doesn't have the patience to learn how to achieve it. Easily frustrated that he can't just pick a new skill up and be its master; he is so eager for others to see his latest accomplishment. Baseball, show choir (see him as Charlie in Willy Wonka next month), church...Mandy and I encourage him to be involved in everything and he thrives on it. Alex on the other hand gets frustrated if his tablet is too slow to start and would love nothing more than to never leave the house again.