Travelogue: Dana Point, a Saturday in March

During a weekend trip to San Clemente, my wife and I set out on a short day trip just up the Southern California coast to a town called Dana Point. Named for Richard Dana, author of Two Years Before the Mast, the city boasts a lovely marina. Little did we know that there was a celebration going on: The Festival of the Whales.

Among the festivities of the weekend festival was an event for the fast growing sport of stand up paddling called the Mickey Muñoz Paddle Surf Fiesta. I snapped a few pictures. Just another lovely day in SoCal (in March).

Travelogue: San Clemente -- Friday Night in March

Life is a dance, a balancing act, and a whirlwind. Lately, it seems to have had more of a whirlwind quality about it, especially at work. That's par for the course, but it makes weekend getaways a welcome reprieve.

Last Summer I planned ahead for some weekend trips. (Spontaneity is great, but planning ahead gets you a timeshare on the coast of Southern California.)

March 12th and 13th my wife and I took one of those planned trips. After a quick exit from work and a little packing, we made the easy 45 minute drive south the to a town called San Clemente. We stayed, for the second time, at San Clemente Inn in a timeshare unit. San Clemente Inn is nestled just off the freeway where it shares a back fence with San Clemente State Beach. Some people camp: we timeshare.



We arrived early enough in the evening to enjoy the changing view from our balcony. Over the brush that hides the camping sites of San Clemente, we caught a glimpse of the ocean, the clouds, and the sunset.

Mix in a bottle of wine, good conversation, (and no nagging household chores), and you have the start of our relaxing stay.

Life is a dance, a balancing act, and a whirlwind. This weekend was part of the balancing act. Ahh... come, share the view:

Learning to "vacate" on vacation

One of the things I love about being a teacher is "not teaching", aka vacations!

I spent several decades working 49 to 50 weeks a year, with 8 to 10 extra holidays thrown in. Mostly I worked 8 to 5 type jobs with weekends off. But what we did not have were things like Christmas Vacation, Spring Break, and Summer Vacation.



We were lucky if we got the day after Thanksgiving off, let alone a week around Christmas. In my work unit, those days were doled out on a rotating basis. Each industry is different, as is each country, when it comes to how much vacation one gets.

But when it's vacation time, I was often surprised how long it would take me to "vacate", or leave work behind. It was not unusual for me to take nearly two days to stop thinking about work. It was not unusual for me to start thinking about work again a day or two prior to my return to work.

I wasn't very good at vacating.



I'm better now. Tomorrow I return to work after a week off: Easter vacation came late in our school district, but it came.

Nine months or so prior to this week I reserved a one-bedroom condo/timeshare in Solana Beach, just north of San Diego. That's where I've been. Ahhh...



We left last Saturday about 1 PM for the two hour drive south. Just past the first half hour mark... I was relaxed. I had vacated! (Wow!)

The last month or so has been very busy at work. The school day is generally jam packed. It's loaded with social interactions: teacher-to-students, teacher-to-families, teacher-to-teachers. It's also loaded with meetings, deadlines, reports, and unforseen challenges. The unforseen challenges of the last month left me with little time to enjoy looking forward to vacation. I was swimming hard just to stay afloat. And I did. Barely.



On Thursday night, after a 10 or 12 hour day, I looked at what "needed" to be done before Friday at 3 PM and I decided, "Hmmm... I guess failure is an option."

By end of day Friday I had accomplished the majority of what "needed" to be done. The rest... did. not. get. done. (And no one died.)

Part of vacating has to do with giving myself permission to do less. I recently wrote about being Mr. Good Enough. Interestingly, my daughter recently wrote along a similar vein as a young mom/homemaker/wife.



Leaving the stress behind is a daily skill, not just a vacation-time skill.

I return to work tomorrow. I had one return-to-work bad dream last night. (Not bad.)

During the week I spent some time thinking about the challenges, issues, and priorities of my work. That's normal. That's part of what vacation is too: gaining perspective over the day-to-day routines and recalibrating.



After work on Friday, we went out to dinner. The next day, I washed cars, mowed the lawns, got down suitcases, dropped off the dog, loaded up the car, and headed south.

We had a relaxing week, just the wife and I. We hiked some lagoon trails, visited a museum, shopped at Fresh and Easy for groceries, played gin and cribbage, watched some TV, and talked. We vacated, just about 120 miles away from home.



We got back home yesterday: said, "hello" to the cats, picked up the dog, emptied the car, enjoyed DSL speed, my own shower, and generally just being home.

One of the nice things about a good vacation, is how nice home seems when you get back.

It's good to be home, and it's nice to share a post with my blogging friends. ;-)

The King’s Friend

I’ve read the Bible cover to cover: 20 times. I haven’t done it in a few years, but I did it for a few years. Why?

Reading the biography of George Mueller as a young man, I was challenged and inspired by his example. In checking just now, Mueller read through the Bible over 200 times during his life. Mueller had a special life with God. He thought Bible reading had something to do with it.



(I also met a woman once who had read the Bible 36 times. Her life wasn’t all that special, so just reading the Bible isn’t enough.)

Mueller became a man of faith. He believed God.

I’m fairly ordinary, but God helps me. Why?

Because I’m willing to put myself in places where I need His help.



About fifteen years ago, I quit using an alarm clock. I trust God to get me up in the morning, and I’m awakened each workday at about 6:30.

I recently met a deadline at work. Some unanticipated time “appeared,” and I was able to get some things done that needed to be done. My co-worker was amazed: again. She said, “Don’s got friends in high places.”

Another co-worker pointed up and said, “He sure does.”

Mini-miracles? You bet.



In reading the Bible, I’ve found another man who’s example inspired me: Hushai, the Arkite.

Not much is written about the man. I get the sense that he was fairly ordinary. But this is what is written about him in 1st Chronicles, “Hushai the Archite was the king's friend…”

Hushai was the friend of King David. Hushai helped David out when David was fleeing from his son, Absolom. This all happens in 2 Samuel, but all that appears in 1st Chronicles is the simple phrase, “Hushai the Archite was the king's friend…”

Jesus is called many things in the Bible, but one of my favorites was an accusation: “…a friend of publicans (tax-collectors) and sinners.” The Friend of sinners was also known as the King of kings.



One of the main aspirations of my life has been to be a friend to One who has befriended me. Hushai was labeled as “the king’s friend.”

Wouldn’t it be great… to be labeled… “the King’s friend”?

I’d say George Mueller was one of the King’s friends. They hung out. They talked. They were involved in each other’s lives. God did miracles in Mueller’s life because Mueller trusted him to. Mueller put himself in spots where he needed God’s help, and God helped.



Once upon a time, a Man walked on water: Jesus.

But what is often not mentioned was another man also walked on water: Peter.

As Jesus was walking on the water, Peter, asked Jesus to “Bid me come.”

“And He said, "Come!" And Peter got out of the boat, and walked on the water and came toward Jesus.”

Miracles, big and small, happened to the friends of Jesus. They still do.

If only Jesus were still gathering friends! If only he were still saying, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”



If only Jesus were still gathering friends! If only he were still saying, “Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.”

If only God had a book and still spoke to ordinary people!

(Pssttt… He does.)

"Toyota hysteria"?

On March 9th, the Los Angeles Times published an OpEd piece that caught my eye. It was called "Toyota hysteria."

It's been almost a month since the article appeared, and some of the hoopla has subsided. Still, I think the article is relevant to life (and the Toyota "problem.")



I own and drive a Toyota. I've owned a Fiat, several Volkwagens (bugs and buses), a Vega, a Ford Aspire, a Jeep, a Chevy Cavalier, and a Honda CRV. I like my Toyota. It's the first new car I've ever owned.

My Corolla is not one of the many that were recalled, but all the news made me a bit worried.

I try not to over-react to things. I can recall my mom saying, "There are two sides to every story." I still try to get both sides before jumping to a conclusion.



As a result, I've learned to look a bit deeper into current affairs before I form an opinion. Knee-jerk reactions are the norm. Sometimes I prefer not being normal.

Some quotes from the Op-Ed piece I especially liked were:

1) "But what I am worried about, with the current avalanche of unintended-acceleration complaints against the company and the congressional hearings, is the hysteria promoted by sensationalist headlines and pompous government officials."

2) "To err is human; to blame errors on external factors is even more so."

3) ""Nobody wants to minimize any deaths Toyota defects may have caused," says Russ Rader of the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety. "But vehicle defects are just a tiny, tiny part of what leads to crashes.""

4) "So why the emphasis on mechanical defects above all else? Evans says it began with Ralph Nader and his 1965 book, "Unsafe at Any Speed." Today it's perpetuated by trial lawyers seeking the deepest pockets and a media that know it's sexier to crusade against corporations than emphasize individual responsibility."



And so we return again to the less sexy problem of individual responsibility. The author acknowledges Toyota's contribution to the current tragedy, but he also puts it into a larger perspective. It's easier to blame others, than to accept personal blame. It's easier to point a finger than to say, "My bad. Please forgive me."

And what are the author's qualifications for speaking to the Toyota hysteria:

1) He was involved in a serious crash in 1992 that ended in an out-of-court settlement with Toyota.

2) His wife, who was seriously injured in that crash, owns and drives a Toyota.

3) The author, Michael Fumento, "is director of the nonprofit Independent Journalism Project, where he specializes in health and safety issues."



The antidote to hysteria just might be good information from a reliable source.

Perhaps "truth" exists in both sides of a story. Hmmm... Something to think about.

Mr. Good Enough -- That's me!

I used to be a perfectionist. On a related note, I used to be disillusioned and somewhat depressed. I was idealist. I grew up in the 60's and 70's. But over time, I came to my senses, and I grew up some more.



In various degrees, in various settings, I've learned that "Good enough often is... good enough."

I dated and broke up with some very nice girls. But they weren't "perfect" for me. I'd like to say I wasn't as bad as the characters on Seinfeld, but the end result was the same. I was always finding some reason why they weren't quite "perfect."

Sometimes the girl broke my heart, sometimes, I broke hers. (It was probably more of a bruising than a breaking... it was all "young love." We were learning to love.)



Somewhere along the way, at about 20, I realized that I was looking for too much in a girl. Girls aren't God. They can't be expected to fill the deep emptiness of my soul: that's God's job.

I'm guessing that many women who are looking for Mr. Right suffer from a similar misconception: men aren't the end-all, be-all of existence. That's asking too much. (Not to say some guys aren't doing the same thing.)

I was recently reminded of all this when I came across an interview with the author of a new book called, "Marry Him, the case for settling for Mr. Good-enough." I read the interview, then I read the article in The Atlantic that preceded the book.

At about 20, I changed from looking for Mrs. Perfect, to "I think I need a wife." Within six months of that change of perspective, I'd met the girl. (Actually, I already knew her, I just hadn't recognized her as the one who would willingly commit to walking with me through the journey of life.) We married a year and a half later.

She had been engaged twice before, but had gotten "cold feet." This time, she looked at things differently, and made a commitment summed up in two words: "I do."



Eighteen years and three children later, she passed away after a six year bout with cancer. Did she settle for Mr. Good Enough? Some might say so.

But the night before she died, she said, "I'm so happy." (She also had just told me how much she loved me. We had grown to love each other deeply... over the course of time and life.)

We had "settled" on each other, and it was good.

In work, I was also perfectionist.

My mom used to say, "Good, better, best; never let it rest, until good is better, and better is best."



Then I met Rick Simmons, my computer programming boss. He told me, "Don, not everything needs to be a Cadillac. Sometimes a Chevrolet is good enough." I didn't like it at first, but he was right, and I was liberated: again. Perfection is a cruel task master.

These days, I aim to be "above average" or sometimes just "thoroughly adequate."

Perfection is over-rated and generally unattainable. If you're looking for Perfection, then find God. (That will release the rest of us from an unfair burden.)

A year after being widowed, I met a widow from New York. I was from California. We met via AOL. She was looking for some help in coping with the loss of her husband.



It all started very platonic... but over time... I came to realize that Leslie loved me, and that I loved Leslie. I hadn't even seen her picture yet; hadn't met her face-to-face; hadn't even gone on a date.

We were both in our 40's. We had both enjoyed good marriages. We knew what mattered and what didn't. We both knew Perfection was found in Another (God). We knew that Another could help us find "another," who was "good enough." We settled? (Actually, I proposed marriage, and she accepted!)

In December, Leslie and I will celebrate our 12th anniversary. We're happily married. You might call us, Mr. and Mrs. Good Enough.



* * * * *

My Cousin Buffie wrote us a wedding poem called,

"A Wedding Prayer for Don and Leslie."

As you start your life together
Through the grace of God, a second chance
For the Love and for the Laughter
And for the knowing glance.

May your Love shine bright forever.
Your two souls entwined in dance.
And your happiness be boundless
Through the grace of God, a second chance.

* * * *



I settled on a choice, Leslie. And Leslie settled on a choice, Don.
Mr. and Mrs. Good Enough -- living a life of "good enough" together.
Trying to be "above average" and "thoroughly adequate."
So far, so good -- because often -- Good enough is!

Pushing the envelope: He can dance!

I came across this video a while ago. I appreciate those who push the envelope. Some do it in sports, some in academia, and some do it in dance.

Here's a little mind boggling fun: He can dance!

Now go push some envelopes!