Make A Run For The Border

I had Taco Bell for a late dinner tonight.  As I was staring back into the kitchen area, I noticed how a lot of things have changed since I worked at Taco Bell, my high school job.  It was back in the 80's.  I remembered my stating salary was $3.41 per hour.  Crazy huh?

While I was working at Taco Bell, they slowly transition to the crappy food that it is now.  I'm not sure why I still eat there, with La Nopalera around the corner where I can get authentic Mexican food for a cheap price.  Before, we use to make almost everything in the store: ground the beef, fried the tortilla shells, grilled the steak and chicken, pressure cook the beans, etc.  But now all of it is pre-made at some factory and shipped to the stores.

With that being said, it was still fun times working with good friends, and a good way to break into the labor force, learning how to work for a paycheck.  Of all the positions that I worked there, my favorite was cashier, because I enjoyed talking to people.  I didn't understand it at the time, but later in life, I realized that that was a huge indicator of what type of jobs I would enjoy.

I highly suggest any teenagers reading this blog to work at some fast food place or restaurant just for the experience.

I am grateful for my experience at Taco Bell.

Honesty With Your Fellow Man

I had to take my car to the shop today...twice.  One for a planned maintenance, the other was unexpected.

For the planned maintenance, the tires were balanced and rotated, and I also had an alignment done.  Total cost $0.  As usual, they tried to upsell services that I didn't need or were overpriced.  It's part of some (dare I say most) automotive repair shop's business model.

Shortly thereafter, my AC stopped working.  Because I didn't trust the first shop (thinking they might have been the ones to sabatoge my AC because I refused their extra services), I went to another shop to have them look at it.  To check the AC compression was free, but the compressor wasn't even turning on, so they checked the electrical for $40.  It was a blown fuse, and something I could have checked myself.  They even used the spare fuse that was in the fuse box.

But which store did I feel treated me more honestly, and will start getting my repeat business?  The latter.  I felt bad for thinking the first shop tampered with my car, but precedence has made me wary of their honesty.

Tires Plus is the first shop.  Pep-Boys was the second shop.

Thank you, Darrell, of Pep-Boys Orange Park, FL, for being an honest and genuine service representative. 

The Gift Of Choice

I've pondered this topic for most of my grown life, especially for the past six years.  The ability to choose (sometimes called free agency or free will) is one of the greatest gifts that God has given us.  Choice has consequences.  Most people think that the word consequence has a negative connotation, but according to one definition, consequence means "the effect, result, or outcome of something".  Initially, I thought that this topic of choice was going to be one post entry this year, but I've come to realize that it will probably be multiple postings.

I watched part of the Orange Bowl tonight, West Virginia vs Clemson.  Before the game, ESPN did a bit on Dabo Swinney, the head coach of the Clemson Tigers.  He had a difficult upbringing, his father dealing with alcoholism, the family splitting up, with Dabo living with his mother, barely making ends meet.  He eventually went to college, and get this, invited his mom to come live with him.  And for three years they lived in an apartment together, and slept on the same bed.  (Thinking about my college experience, I couldn't fathom thinking of the same scenario.)  ESPN toured Dabo's current home, now that he is a successful coach.  The home was a far cry from the humble beginnings of his childhood.   They showed the bedroom suite that Dabo used growing up.  Dabo's son now uses this suite, which includes the same bed that Dabo and his mom slept in when he was in college.

During his younger years, Dabo said that he chose to be positive, because there was no use choosing to be miserable.  That part stuck out to me, because it is a mantra that I strive to live every day.

I'm glad that I can choose my attitude, and that I can choose to be positive.

I love hearing stories like Dabo Swinney, and countless others, especially in my personal associations, because they reaffirm my beliefs.

Life is not over...and trails and tribulations are a part of it, some that are brief, and some that are still ongoing, but regardless of things that are out of our control, we can still choose to be positive and happy.

Deep Freeze

My brother called me tonight to remind me to drip the faucets and drain the outside water pump because of the deep freeze that is coming through Florida tonight.  This morning, the temperature had already dropped to the 30's, but tonight was going to be much worse.

Already in shorts for the evening, I changed into some jeans and put a jacket on.  I left the warm comforts of my house, and stumbled in the dark around to the side, flashlight in one hand, wrench in the other, and a cell phone in my pocket.

I didn't know which plug to unscrew so I called my dad and he walked me through to find the correct plug.  

I am thankful for the technology that makes our lives easier, and more comfortable.  

I did some research online to determine when the items listed above were developed or made popular:

• Jeans - 1873
• Wrench - 1800's
• Cell phones - 1990's
• Flashlight - 1899
• Central heat - 1700's
• Water well pumps (electric) - couldn't determine the origination, but I guess it was sometime after electricity production was developed.

Although technology is great, I have some concern that the same advancement of living is causing us to be "soft".  I'm sure that's why camping, fishing, and doing other things outdoors is so fun, because you are much closer to nature, braving the elements that God has created.

Don't get me wrong.  God designed us to discover, learn and create these things.  We just need to put aside technology every once in awhile to remind us what it's like to live without it. 

A Second Chance

I've since realized that a great part of our lives deal with relationships, whether it would be with your family, friends, business, church, etc, and so it's very important to cultivate them, grow them, love them in whatever capacity is appropriate.  And as a part of being human, we've made mistakes in those relationships that require forgiveness on our part, and hopefully with humility, we would be given a second chance.  And likewise, we would hope to forgive those who have wronged us, even though some circumstances would be difficult.

I am thankful for those who have given me a second chance. 

Of all the of numerous examples that would sufficiently portray this, I go back to the 7th grade for a little example that still has a profound meaning to me this day.  It would have gone unnoticed, like a lot of things we do growing up, but I still remember "this" one.

During lunch period one day, I noticed some guy looking at me in the lunch room.  His name is Charlie Gatz.  Being a smart-alec, and not so sure why I felt threatened by him, I shot to him (as to challenge him)  "Don't look at me!"  He continued to stare me down..."Don't look at me!"  It was the battle of wits now, but he finally relented and looked away.  I had won.  How rude, right?  Once again, I still don't know why I decided to treat him that way.  And to be honest with you, I didn't really think much about it afterwards.

Earlier that year, one of our good neighbors moved away.  They lived at the end of the cul de sac.  I only remember our friend by his first name, Buddy.  I believe he was a year younger than me, a short black kid with a lot of energy.  He was part of the neighborhood group that would play street football, and baseball with a tennis ball and a whiffle bat.  The front of his house plot formed the first base line.  It was a sad day watching them drive off.

A little while later in the year a new family moved into that home.  The father was in the US Navy, the mother was of Korean descent. And they have two sons, Charlie and Andy Gatz.  What?!  Yes, that Charlie Gatz.  Now that he was part of the neighborhood, he somehow became "cool" with me.  I don't remember speaking to him until that first day at the bus stop that took us to the 7th grade center we attended (Eugene J. Butler).  I hopped on the bus first and after taking a seat towards the back, I invited Charlie to sit with me.  I knew he was in the band because he carried his instrument to and from school.  I found out that he played saxophone.  We really got to know each other that day and I felt that we were going to be good friends.

"But, Vlad, if you were already learning how to play the trumpet, why didn't you know who he was?  Weren't you in the band too?"

So let's fill in the gap from the previous post (The Accidental Trumpet Player) and now.  In Jacksonville, the band programs started in six grade.  In the six grade center, we had only one assigned school teacher, just like in elementary school.  One day a week, for an hour or so, the students in band would leave their regular classroom to go to band class.  It was fun for the first few times as we were learning how to play our instruments...but to get straight to the point...it was becoming apparent that I was sucking at it, really bad.  It didn't help that I had a teacher from hell, not the band teacher, my regular teacher (do you all remember Mrs. Buck?...it was an unfortunate name for her).  She gave me a hard time about leaving her class for band...and then because of her guilt trip, she gave me a hard time for not going to band practice.  At least I learned how to deal with difficult people from her experience, but I digress.  Ultimately, my desires to learn how to play the trumpet were no longer there, and in less than a year, I quit band altogether.

This is where looking back in life, I realized how important relationships are, and that we should seek to build them, because we need each other, whether we know it at the time or not.

Knowing that Charlie was in the band, that piqued my interest in picking up my trumpet again, outside of school.  I asked him to bring music home for the trumpet, and we would start playing the pieces in my garage.

I still sucked at it, but having a personal friend that was in the band just gave me encouragement to keep pressing forward.  We had another neighborhood friend in the band that played the flute.  He was already attending the junior high school.  We were the garage band trio.  After 7th grade ended, Charlie and I were invited to attend summer band at that junior high school (Jefferson Davis), and then because that program ended abruptly after a week, we were invited to attend the high school summer band program.  I learned how to march as well as improve in my trumpet playing skills.  I met another trumpet player there that is now one of my best friends to this day.  I progressed so well that summer, that I made it to the top band program at the junior high school when Fall came around.  And to top it off, during that Fall season, I was privileged to march with the high school band, even though I was only in 8th grade at the junior high school.  It was the same high school that hosted the band competition I attended just three years earlier.

All because Charlie Gatz moved into my neighborhood, for which I am thankful.

Remember how I had forgotten that I was rude to Charlie in the cafeteria?  Well, he didn't.  Sometime during our friendship, he reminded me of that incident.  He also told me how surprised he was that I was friendly to him at the bus stop.  He thought we were forever enemies, since I was the bully.  But he gave me a chance to be his friend, and he didn't judge me based on that incident alone.

Thanks, Charlie.  You were the friend that I needed at that time of my life.  And thanks for giving me a second chance, because I think you gave me a lot more than that.

The Accidental Trumpet Player

For those of you that know me, music makes up a lot of my life.  It all started when my mom "forced" me to take piano lessons at the ripe old age of five.  We were living in the Philippines at the time (my dad was stationed in Subic Bay) and so I had the neat opportunity to be taught by the same lady that taught my mom when she was a little.

I remembered that first day when this elderly lady came to the house.  I was still a little defiant at the notion that I had to take piano lessons.  While they were at the dining table catching up on old times, I hopped onto the piano bench and started playing the piano like a pro, or so I thought.  After playing a few licks, I would run up to them and say "See, I already know I how to play the piano" and then run back to the piano to play more of my well thought-out musical phrases.  Needless to say, I was stuck taking piano lessons.  And that decision started the musical tapestry that has and still is being weaved in my life.

I am thankful that my mom gave me the opportunity to learn a musical instrument at an early age.  

So where does the accidental trumpet player come in?  Let's fast forward to 5th grade, in Jacksonville, FL.  One Saturday November afternoon , my mom took my brother and me to lunch at the Burger King adjacent to the local high school near our neighborhood (Nathan B. Forrest High School).  There was an unusual hustle and bustle at the restaurant, with a lot of teenagers and parents coming in from next door.  

"There must be a football game" we decided, after which my brother and I begged my mom to go watch the football game.  My mom was curious as well.  She didn't think twice about our request.  Before we knew it, we were settled into one of the concrete rows in the football stadium.

A marching band was about to enter the field.   "Great!!  It must be halftime.  Once they are done, then we'll be able to watch the football game."  After their performance, another marching band came on to perform.  "OK...this must be the opposing team's band.  This should finish halftime.  I can't wait to see the football game."

And then another marching band came on the field..."What is going on?"

And then another marching band...

And still another one came on after that one.  

We were slowly assimilating the event that was going on before us.  If you haven't guessed it by now, what we thought was a football game, ended up being a marching band competition that the high school was hosting.  

I am glad that collectively, my family did not know that high school football generally isn't played on a Saturday. ;-)

I don't remember being disappointed that no football was to be played.  I do remember being fascinated by the pageantry of the marching band presentation.  As I was looking at the different formations, instruments, color guard, I remembered fixating myself on those silver trumpets.  I've never seen one before.  I thought they were all those brass color.  I noticed that the trumpet player usually played a solo as well during their performance.  They were usually louder than the other instruments.  And I loved how some of them can hit those high notes that just penetrated the air.

As the competition continued throughout the rest of the afternoon, I finally told my mom that I wanted to learn how to play the trumpet.  

And that's how I became the accidental trumpet player. 

Should I Start Blogging Again?

Wow....I've let this blog kinda slip for the past four years. In a way it does seem that long, but not really. I feel like a whole world of things have changed since I first started my blog. Facebook is one of them. I'm amazed at all the new people that I've come in contact with, from grade school, to friends from other parts of the United States, to long lost relatives...well, I'm not sure if we're related, but we have the same family name.

Now that it is near the end of 2011, I am in the process of thinking of goals and resolutions going into 2012. Should I include the goal of blogging again? If so, will it just be on the topics that currently grab my attention? Politics? Religion? Football?

As of right now, I think 2012 will be a year of thanks. Each day, I will post one thing that I am thankful for, whether it is something general, or maybe something specific that happened on that day. I just hope that I can put something here that would be beneficial to both you and me.

We'll see...2012 is just over a month away.