Profiles in Courage

It has been a while since I profiled a friend of mine.  I started with JR (my brother in law) who is a cop.  I then did one on Col. Bartholomew (a fraternity brother, friend, and US soldier). This is my next chapter in that series.  Is this not an absolutely fantastic picture?  It is one that truly is worth a thousand words.  You see one solider fishing.  You see another, presumably, who is in Special Forces.  You cant really tell where they are, although the camo pattern would signify Afghanistan.  I only know that because I'm oddly into football and military uniforms.  This would be a great picture on its own.  Its made an even better picture because the man with the fishing rod (which is made of makeshift parts) is my former roommate from college.  That is Chad Chenoweth.  Chad and I shared a room while at the SAE house.  He was the most southern, redneck, person I have ever met from Ohio.  I mean that as a compliment, and Cheno would take it like one.  He was a freshman, when I was a junior.  We were sort of at different points in our lives when we roomed together, so we didn't hang out more than suite mates would.  The four of us (Priest, Hart, Cheno, and myself) all got along great.

I was gone, done with UK, before I really got to see the man that Cheno had grown into.  That is one of the great things about Facebook.  I would see occasional updates on Cheno.  I saw where he married his high school sweetheart (which is pretty cool), who he once bought a rat for..... for valentines day.  I remember because he would occasionally have the d*mned thing in our room.  He called the rat "sweetheart" because it had a heart shaped brown spot on his back.  He actually affectionately called the rat, sweetie if I remember correctly. I don't get it. I never got.  But that was Cheno.  He later had a baby girl and a son, a complete family.  With those few details alone, I was happy for Cheno.  Good for him.

One day out of the blue, I got a call from Cheno.  He was rising up the ranks of the U.S. Army, and he needed a reference for top secret clearance.  He wanted to ask if it was okay if he used me as a reference as he attempted to get the clearance.  Not only did it catch me off guard, I was incredibly humbled and honored.  As many times as I have been asked to be a reference, never had it been in this capacity.  Never had it been from someone like Cheno.  As a result, Cheno and I started to keep in better contact. I won't lie and act as if we are best friends.  That's honestly probably more to due with proximity than anything (and I don't just mean him being in Afghanistan).

I was fortunate to have a lot of fraternity brothers at UK that went on to do great things.  I was proud to simply know so many of them.   Of all of them, there are a few of them that I look upon as they have grown into men, almost as a proud father.  Not because I had anything to do with their success, just because I'm so fricking proud of the men they have become.  Jonathan Cummins (with a wife and two baby girls, also served our Air Force) is one, Cheno is the other.

The other day I asked Cheno what he had done in the Army, because I knew I wanted to write the blog about him.  I figured it would be easier to simply ask him.  Here is what he sent me:

Infantry Platoon Leader, Executive Officer, Scout Platoon Leader and Battalion logistics officer from 2005 to 2009 stationed in Hawaii, and deployed to Iraq for 15 months. After that, Captain's Career Course at Ft. Benning in 2009, Ranger Instructer and RSLC Operations Officer from 2009-2011. Deployed again in 2011 for 6 months. Took Company Command in May of 2012, and completed that command yesterday, 4 months of Command in Combat on my 3rd Deployment to Afghanistan on a 9 month rotation this time. Going to RC-South to work for Brigade HQs now.

I don't know what the majority of this means.  I just know that it is pretty bad a*s.  I can decipher that he has gone above and beyond in protecting our freedoms.  I can decipher that he has become highly successful in his field, and I can decipher that has far exceed any of us in life's accomplishments.  He is the type of guy they make video games out of.  He is Cheno, he was my roommate.

Phi Alpha, Cheno.

It was a beautiful day.

Today was a great day.  It was that rare weekend when I didn't have to travel, and we had nothing on the schedule.  One of my favorite things to do on days like this is cook a big breakfast for the girls.  The whole 9 yards.  As we sit down for breakfast, here was the conversation:

Caroline :Mamaw cooks the best breakfast!
Hadley: Mamaw (she now can say Mamaw, instead of Memaw, which incidently enough was my grandmother, my mother's mother).
Reagan: Yes, Mamaw is the best chef.  She cooks everything better.
Hadley: Mamaw
Me:  Yes, if I had a restaurant, I would call it Mamaw's and it would be all the food she cooked.
Hadley: Mamaw
Caroline: Her turkey, her dumplings, her french toast.....
Hadley:Mamaw
Reagan: thats because she grew up on a farm (which is pretty much true).
Me: Thats true, and it was on that farm...I think, that Mamaw saw Santa!
Caroline: Wait....Mamaw has seen Santa?
Me:  Yes, Sport.  She swears by it to this day.  No one keeps the spirit of Christmas alive year round like Mamaw.

That's when I realized that this will be one of my mother's legacies to her granddaughters.  As long as they are alive, they will remember their Mamaw as a great cook, and someone who always believed.

That's sort of what I love about my mother, too.  She has always believed.  She has always kept the faith.  She has always believed in my father, she never stopped believing in Patrick and I (even when we pushed her away), she never stopped believing in the spirit of Christmas, and she has never stopped believing in her faith.  No matter what, she stays the course.  This is what her granddaughters will always remember of her.  That's pretty cool.

We then loaded up the van and headed about 40 miles north to pick apples.  This is sort of a big deal, because in Lexington we used to do this stuff all the time.  You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a farm that was growing something for you to pick.  We used to go all the time, and it is some of our greatest memories of the girls.  We did it almost this exact time last year, so we decided to head back to the same farm.  We picked 20lbs of apples, many of which we weren't supposed to pick.  We didn't want the smaller apples that were ready to pick, we wanted the big, fat, juicy apples.  So we picked those.  The owner liked the girls so much, she gave us special permission to pick her personal raspberry bushes, not open to the public.  We got two whole batches of raspberries.  When we were checking out, the lady asked Hadley if she has picked any berries, Hadley points to her open mouth and goes "yummmmmm."  I told Hadley she was telling on herself, and the lady asked Hadley if she should weigh Hadley (because she had eaten so many of the berries....and apples for that matter).  We went from there to lunch at  Red Robbin, one of the girls favorite places to eat.  It was a beautiful day.

We got home, all rested a bit, then went to their school to ride bikes. Caroline did it on her first try.  I later helped walk Mimi and Pop through setting up their new iPhones, and then had Ramen Noodles for dinner (which is what I wanted). We capped it off with movie night and SEC football.

I realized that all throughout the day, we were doing things that both sets of grandparents would be proud of, things they both would want to do with us.  Big meals, berry picking, playing at a park, riding bikes, at the school, taking pictures, and dozing off on the couch.

It was a beautiful day indeed.

It was love....

Tomorrow, when we are reminded of that horrible day, just remember this one thing....  When chaos was all around, when people thought jumping was a better option, when they looked out the window as their plane flew closer to the tower....it was not hate in the victim's minds, it wasn't war either.  Over and over again, their last words were words of love.  Tell my wife, tell the girls, tell my boy, tell my husband, tell Mom and Dad...that I love them.  It is all over the news.  That is why the terrorists will never win.  When terrorists do what they do, they have hate in their hearts.  On that day, those victims had love.  Love is much more powerful, and love always wins in the end.

Love.

Never meant to last....

I love Jimmy Buffett, who amongst us doesn't?  However, I dont love Jimmy Buffett like the vast majority of people out there do.  Most people get into JB in college, and the only album they own is Songs You Know By Heart.  They can sing every word of Margaritaville, but look at you like you're an alien if you mention Gods Own Drunk, Little Miss Magic, or Steamer.  Like the best Sunday drives, I generally prefer the songs that go off the beaten JB path.  While I have never been drunk, done my bit of smugglin, or some of the other things Jimmy sings out about, much of what he sings about has always resonated with me.

The first concert I ever went to was a Jimmy Buffett concert.  I believe this to be one of the cooler facts of my life, and always enjoy it when its an icebreaker question.  How many people can honestly say that?  I was about 5, it was at Old Cardinal Stadium.  I remember Mom and Dad debating if I should go, but ultimately letting me go.  I also seemingly remember watching some of the concert on Mr Fulner's Chuck Fulner's shoulders.  I remember fearfully looking for a stadium shark when the song Fins was played.  It is probably one of my earliest memories in general.  Thanks to a thing called Google, I can confirm that the show was 7.03.1985, as part of the Sleepless Knights tour (and yes I was five).  Mom and Dad will have to confirm the other details.

Sometimes the important songs come and go, depending on my stage of life.  For instance, the song Steamer, has always reminded me of Brooke, and that time when we fell in love.

You can ignore the pics, they obviously aren't mine.  I appreciate whomever put this together, because its about the only online version (again not a high traffic Jimmy Buffett song).  Anyway, songs come and go depending on what you're facing in life.

Today I was cooking breakfast for the girls when A Pirate Looks At Forty came on (the first clip above). I have heard that song 1000 times in my life.  Its one of the more well known songs, but its one that sort of took on a different meaning to me lately.  This past week I had a birthday, got a little bit older, and am currently facing forty. While Im still closer to 30 than 40 (for a little bit longer), there isnt any going back.  As I mentioned before, Jimmy Buffett also reminds me of my childhood.  I can recall multiple briefcases of Jimmy Buffet tapes being brought with us on our family vacations to Florida.  We were a road tripping family.  We all loved to hop in the family truckster and head to Longboat Key.  We had a few rules as it related to Jimmy Buffet.  We couldn't listen to Jimmy until we go to the Florida boarder, then we had to listen to Margaritaville on full blast.  We would always stop at the Welcome Station, get fresh orange juice, grab all the brochures, then head to LBK.  It was another 5 hours or so of non stop Buffett playing.  Jimmy Buffett reminds me of those good times, those safe times, when I was younger.  I can recall the feeling of being where I belonged when I would stare at the Gulf of Mexico.  Some people believe we are called to the ocean, because the  sound of the waves crashing subconsciously reminds of us when we were in our mother's stomach.  The sounds of the waves are very similar to what we heard at that point.  Could be true, there is an unusual calm and peace I always feel on those white sands.  Inevitably, life's memories seem to flash before your eyes as you watch for the green flash.

So not only am I getting older,  Im getting all those things that come with getting older.  There is some beauty in climbing that ladder, watching the girls grow up is truly a daily gift.  Having someone to grow old with, is one of the greatest gifts of all.  But there are scary moments as well.  Moments when you're not sure if the money will stretch, moments when the lack of any job security makes you uneasy about the future, and moments when a test comes back and the doctor says its "abnormal."   Its all part of the deal.  You cant have the beautiful, without the ugly.

Dad always loved this song, he said one day I would understand.  I think that day has finally come.  Dad and Jimmy are both looking at 70, and this swashbuckler is staring down the infamous barrel of 40.  I guess we are all "pirates" in our own way, and there comes a time when we all realize it was never meant to last.    

So long, good friend....

What you see here is a box.  Inside this box it is like a treasure chest of memories and moments in time.  You see a CD (who uses those anymore?), a iphone charger wire, some documents, trash, etc.   Take it all in.  We have known this day was coming, we have known that we were on borrowed time, ever since we moved to Chicago.

Let me first take you back to August, 2010.  We had three girls, aged 1, 3 & 4.  We were living in Lexington, KY.  Life was good.  In 2008, I had given up a beautiful FX4 version of an F150 for a mini van.  We needed the room, our family was growing.  I did the best I could, but the van I got was not a very good van.  I didn't know any better.  A few years later, our family HAD grown, and we had two mini vans.  I was driving the bad one, Brooke had the good.  That's the way it should be.  By August of 2010 my patience had long left, and I wanted an F150 again.  Brooke said that's fine and that "I deserved it."  She warned against it though, if we had another kid, they wouldn't all fit.  Well, we cant live life by what ifs.  If my aunt had balls...she would be my uncle.  My loving and supportive wife was letting me get my toy.  So, in August I got my dream truck (again).  Two weeks after I got my truck, we got pregnant (again thats kid #4 in case you lost count).  This wasn't the end of the world though, my truck still worked in Lexington.  Me and my truck were becoming one.  We would drive through the gorgeous Lexington countryside,  like it was our own Ford commercial.  I was somewhat defined by my big, beautiful, truck.

Then life happened, and we had to move to Chicago.  One month after I moved up here, someone scraped my door.  This was heartbreaking.  I took immaculate care of my truck.  She still looks and smells new.  That's sort of the Chicago code though, no one really cares about that kindof stuff up here.  Everyone's car is banged up.  Heck, I could not even drive my truck on most streets downtown, and I couldn't park her, overnight, on any streets.  Silly, silly,  Yankee rules.  The F150 just didn't really fit up here.  The streets are narrow, the driveways are narrow, space is at a premium.  I didn't drive her much, I think I got 3 oil changes her entire shelf life with me.   I think in her (the truck) heart of hearts, she knew.

Ive been thinking for awhile it was time for me to part ways with her.  Not only was I restricted with where I could take the F150, I could not fit my entire family in the car.  It was becoming an issue with me.  My original thought was that I was going to get an Explorer. It could fit everyone, it was cool enough for me (so I thought), so I started shopping around to try and find one.  As I got closer to making a deal, I realized I wasn't going to be happy driving the Explorer.  I really wont be happy driving anything other than my truck.  My truck, that didn't work.  On my way home from a dealership, I had an epiphany.  Thanks to some encouragement from my mother, I knew what I had to do.

Why pay for a car that I'm not going to be happy with?  Why not get Brooke something great that she can drive for years?  I want my girls to have the best, be the safest.  Since I don't drive much, the answer was pretty clear.  I needed to just take Brooke's van, and get her a brand stinking new one.  So that is what I did.

Today, I turned my truck in.  I will now drive a used, dirty, stinky, mini van.  The above picture is the box of stuff from my truck.  The feeling at the dealership is part break up, part dropping your kid off at college.  As I was cleaning out my truck, every time I would grab something, I would think about why it was in my truck.  A lot of great memories came to my mind.  It was sad.  I love that truck.  I packed up the box, went into the waiting room, and began to go through all the great stuff I did with that truck.  It was very much like that scene in Christmas Vacation with Clark watches those 8mm films in the attic.  I thought about the girls playing in the truck bed.  I thought about all the times I dropped them off at school in that truck.  I laughed about our duck(s) (from Lexington) picking a fight with his reflection in the truck wheel.  I thought about the first time we went camping with the truck.  I thought about the drive up to Chicago, by myself, when I left "My Old Kentucky Home" in the rear view mirror.  Yes, I cried.  She had seen a lot, and she protected my family.  She wasn't just a truck, she was part of me.  But she knew.

I left the lot today in a van that had 6 miles on it, had its model had only been on the market a week.  I drove it home and gave the keys to Brooke.  We already started the switching of the vans.  I think if anyone was more upset about me getting ride of the truck than I was, it was Reagan.  She loved that truck.  She knew one day it would be hers.  To be honest, I'm totally okay with my choice.  Brooke gets a great new van, and the girls will be even safer.  In 3 years of driving my truck, I drove a total of 17,207 miles.  Do the math, that ain't much. I told you I didn't drive much. Why pay for a car for me to drive, that I'm not going to want long term? Right now, I don't need a new car.

On my home, I realized that the truck really didn't define me. It only defined part of me.  Actually, what fully defines me is being a father to my four girls.  A van symbolizes that very fact.  Besides, what difference does it really make?  I just need something to get me to work those few days I actually go into the office.  Now, I have the best kind.  You know what the best kind of car is? One that in about a month, will be completely paid off.

So I might as well roll down the window and let the music blast.

Don't worry, before Reagan went to bed tonight I whispered into her ear "Sport, its all part of the plan.  Play you cards right, and you'll still get your truck when you turn 16."

Sometimes, I have failed as a friend.

This is literally, one of my favorite movie clips off all time.  I honestly believe it sums my personality up, 100%.  I'm fortunate to have lots of people across this country that I care about. I was overwhelmed and honored by the support of my SAE Brothers this past Convention.  With all groups, there are a few that stand out, a few you become naturally closer too.

There are few guys from my past that rise above the rest.  You had Brad Beckman & Jonathan Cummins.  Both incredible men, men who now have even better families.  I was super close to them in college, and we attempt to remain close now.  But then you have John Roberts, Craig Alexander, and Sam Adams.  John Roberts was a great athlete, all around stud.  We didn't become friends till later in college, then we became good friends.  We became better friends when in Key West for Spring Break our senior year John thought he was going to get his butt kicked by some guy who thought John was taking his girl from him.  This was probably true, John could have gotten any girl he wanted.  We didn't forge a bond because of the potential fight, we forged a bond because we knew John was going to get beat down (sorry John), but there I was standing next to him.  It would have been ugly, but I didn't care.  John Roberts "was my friend."  Then you had Craig Alexander.  He was the smart one of the bunch.  He missed out on that potential beat down (yes he would have been standing there next to us) because he thought staying home from that Spring Break to study for the MCAT was a good idea.  For a while that choice was debatable, but now he is a doctor at Texas Children's Hospital.  So, I guess he was right.  Anyway, Craig was another amazing guy in our pledge class, who definitely "started the party!"  I think back to the fall of 1997, about this time of year, and I am thankful that I got thrown together with such a great group of guys.  All of this because of SAE.  Last, but not least, you had Sam Adams.  Sam is a dudes, dude.  He is the best friend a guy could ever ask for. Seriously.   Quick with a joke, always there when things went "South", and he even spent some holidays with my family.  Ill never forget the night we went to a Kenny Chesney concert together, after an opening season football loss, and he was concerned that Trinity would not score a touchdown all season.   Sam, as Trinity's Offensive Coordinator, lead us to a title that season. He is a great football mind, and a better friend.  I miss his friendship on a daily basis.  As great of a guy as Sam is, he out kicked his coverage with his wife, Kim.  He is doing great things at Hoover High School, in Alabama.

What do all three of these men have in common? I missed all of their weddings because of work.  I had to coach a football game when John got married, and I had a SAE Convention during Craig (2009) and Sam's wedding (2013).  Sam's wedding I hated missing the most, I wasn't sure he would ever get married.  He was one of the first non family members to hold Reagan when she was born (he sort of held her like she was a bomb), and I wasn't there for his big moment.

I love all these guys.  We may not be as close as we once were, Id like to think its because we are all spread out across the country.  Life sometimes gets in the way.    I'm glad I was there for Brad and JC's big day, even if me being there probably wasn't noticed either way.  Well it might have been for Jon, because I was in his wedding.   I will never get over the fact that I wasn't there for John, Craig, and Sam's.  Its of little consequence to them (which is the way it should be), but I hope they know how much I regret that work pulled me away.  Their friendship has always meant the world to me.  I am who I am today, partially because of them.

Thank you for being a friend-

It has been a crazy summer, a long time since my last post.  A lot of great things have happened as well.
1)SAE 157th Convention
2) Sam Adams got married
3)4th of July in Nashville
4) FEA Conference in San Antonio
5) Brooke and I celebrated our 10th Anniversary in Kauai, Hawaii.
6) SAE 78th Leadership School
7) Our trip to Chinatown
8) and tomorrow we are going camping.

I have had my mother and father legion of fans ask about when I was going to write my next blog.  Don't worry, it is coming.  Just like television, summer is sort of my time to regroup.  I did a ton I could have blogged about, mainly Hawaii.  However, other than the pics on facebook, that was our time.  That was Brooke's time.  I hope she enjoyed the trip as much as I did.  I was reminded why I fell in love with her, which admittedly I sometimes lose sight of, and why I lover her more today than I did yesterday.

With a new school year coming, my work travel schedule picking up again, I will have many new adventures to blog about.  I appreciate your loyalty, and I look forward to sharing more with you soon.