Welcome to Camp Crazy

Why do I do this to myself?

In my entire life, up until about 3 years ago, I had been camping exactly three times.

Pokagon (I think) in 1980-something. That's me on the left in
the all-blue. My brother is on the far right, next to my dad,
who is wearing the green shorts and red cap.

The first time was at Pokagon for a weekend in Indiana in the early 1980s with the entire family: Grandma and grandpa, aunts, uncles, cousins. All I really remember is playing Sorry inside bug netting by the light of a Coleman lantern that hissed at us, fishing at the top of a dam or multi-tiered waterfall or something, getting a bunch of Garbage Pail Kids at a nearby carry-out, and having to turn around when we were about 20 minutes into the trip because we forgot something....like sleeping bags, or charcoal. I was 10 years old at the time, tops.

The second time was in Brown's Woods off of U.S. 6 between Weston and Bowling Green. It was a one-night scouting event with my dad. I remember canoeing on the tiny pond and hearing "Purple People Eater" for the first time on the radio.

That's me in the very middle, in front of the tree, looking like I have a spotlight
shining on my face. This was taken at Spiegel Grove in 1997.
I camped there a year or two later.

The third time was at Spiegel Grove (President Rutherford B. Hayes' house) in Fremont in October, 1998 or 1999 as part of a Civil War reenactment. I remember that I was alone in the tent, and it was COLD.

What I decided during those times was that camping was not for me, and here is why: You spend two days packing a bunch of crap, shove it into your often grossly-undersized vehicle, drive for two hours, then spend the next four hours busting hump to unpack, keep the kids entertained/out of trouble, set up the tent, light a fire, make dinner, get everyone fed, get everyone around for bed, then fight the 2-year-old to actually fall asleep, which he eventually does at 1 a.m.

Then you post yourself in front of the tent fly so that when said 2-year-old wakes up at 5 a.m. full of pistons and vinegar and ready to strike fear into the area wildlife population, he can't get out of the tent without waking you up. Then you spend the day chasing the kids around, talk about seeing/doing a lot of things, then spend the next 3 hours trying to wake up because you got overheated while reading in the shade and passed out. Then you repeat the nighttime ritual, beginning at lighting a fire.

The next morning, you wake up, go to the campground church service if there is one and if that's your thing, return to camp, and spend the next 2 to 3 hours trying to keep your kids entertained and out of trouble while you strike camp. Then you have to light the fire one last time, feed the family, and put out the fire before you can leave. By that time, you are exhausted, you smell horrible (even if you took a shower every day, face it...you still stink), and all you want to do is go home.

Eventually, you actually DO get home, and it's time to relax. No, scratch that. Rewind. Start this paragraph over...

Eventually, you actually DO get home and you have to unpack all of the crap you packed up in the first place (half of which you didn't use), put it away, do laundry, put THAT away, feed the kids, get them baths and get them to bed, take a shower yourself ('cuz you still stink there, Slick), and you get done just in time to.....

Go to bed and get up at 6 a.m. to head off to work Monday morning. But your mind isn't at work on Monday. It's at home thinking of all of the stuff you could have/should have done over the weekend instead of "screwing off" camping.

Sounds like fun, doesn't it? Maybe for a masochist on par with ... well, your famous local masochist (interestingly, I Googled the phrase "famous masochists" and only came up with one name...the Marquis de Sade, who was a sadist, not a masochist...and apparently a dentist. Who knew?!).

Enter my wife Jenn, whose family has horor stories involving standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, multiple blown tires, and topics too embarrassing to blog about.

My family and our tent at Maumee Bay State Park.

Long story short, we now own a tent and camp regularly. Amazingly, I found myself in March wishing it would warm up enough and stop raining so we could go camping.

And all that stuff that I said about the two-year-old happened to us just recently. So did the going to work and not wanting to be there part. Ugh.

So why do I do it? There are several reasons:

1) To keep Jenn happy. When Mama ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy. ;) (Love you dear!!!!)

2) To teach my kids that there is more to life than a Nintendo DS and sports.

3) To untether. Which is really hypocritical of me since I take my Nook and my smart phone, and was kicking myself a little for not taking at least one laptop this last weekend. But when I use that stuff while camping, it is for entertainment purposes, not for work.

4) To get away from my life. It's not a bad life. I just get tired of it sometimes. It's nice to get away from it.

5) Because when all of the work is done, it's fun to throw the ball around with the kids, have a water balloon fight, or just sit around and read.

6) To force myself to learn patience. I suffer no fools and put up with no bull. Tell that to my 2-year-old. Please. Once he gets older and goes to sleep at a rational time, I can stop telling myself that I go camping to teach myself patience, and just enjoy it. Right now, I get a headache just thinking about it.

The most recent weekend was spent (as most are at this point) at Maumee Bay State Park in Oregon, Ohio. We had a lot of fun. There was some stress, like the toddler who refused to go to bed...ever; the toddler who decided it was okay to run out into the "street" several times, or hide in the tall grass (fortunately we only saw one tick this weekend, and it wasn't on anyone). But the water balloon fight was fun. The 7-year-old perfected riding his bike and started taking treks on his bike alone this weekend. I also helped him earn a Cub Scouts badge.

A great shot of the oldest that Jenn took.

This one has a throwing arm like his older brother.

Kaleb with Papa, showing off their work gloves.

Jenn's parents are state park volunteers and camp there all the time. They serve as campt hosts and help keep it clean and run programming. The oldest signed up to volunteer last year to earn credit toward a Cub Scout badge. This last weekend, Jenn and I signed up to be volunteers. We will be covering for her parents as camp hosts in August while they are at a wedding or something.

While camping this most recent outing, we also found a fox snake that was trying to get into the restrooms. We captured it and contacted a ranger. He came out and used a tool to scan it. He found a tracking tag under its skin, and measured and weighed it before releasing it in a safe location. Had he not found a tag, he would have sent it to a university so it could get one, so they could track its size and movement throughout the park.

Camping is a lot of hard work. Sometimes, it's more work and headache than the two days are worth. But between all of the hard work, there are some good memories and a lot of life lessons...and stress.

And we are already planning our next trip. I think Jenn reserved our camping spot tonight. I'm looking forward to it. I think.

 

(All photos except the first three (the third was taken by Papa), were again taken by my wonderful wife Jenn. Click here to learn more about Maumee Bay State Park)

Keeping my fingers crossed

Since it has been a month since Chris passed away, it doesn't look like I'll be returning to the Sentinel. My former boss said he would let me know "in two weeks or so" whether it was a possibility or not. That was a month ago, so I assume the answer is "or not."

In the meantime, I have kept my hopes up and my options open, as I have applied for three really great jobs...well, two really great jobs, and one pretty good one with great benefits.

I have applied for dispatching positions in Findlay and Perrysburg. I already have taken the civil service exam for the Findlay position. If I pass that (and I will - call me cocky, but I know I will), I will have to return June 2 to take a computer test.

I take the civil service exam for the Perrysburg dispatching position June 17.

The other job I am applying for is secretary for the Wood County Educational Service Center. I would rather be a dispatcher, but basically, any state job would be good.

Currently, I still am at Peebles. I got that promotion, which is nice, but it's still hurting me because any money I make there just gets taken out of how much I am supposed to get from unemployment. So why do I continue to do it? First of all, I am hoping that I will find a full-time job soon and will be able to stay at Peebles to supplement our income.

PLEASE keep your fingers crossed for the dispatching jobs. They are GOOD state jobs that would represent a 25 percent pay increase for me from my old job. That would be a wonderful shot in the arm for this family.

We need all the help, prayers and crossed fingers we can get. We have been doing well, but when we feel like this bumpy ride called unemployment has smoothed out - when we start to see light at the end of the tunnel - the bottom gives out, and it turns out that the light at the end of the tunnel is another train. We keep getting hit with nasty surprises, so the sooner I find a job, the better.

Take care, thanks for reading, and thanks for your support.

Safe at work with mixed emotions

I'm back to work, and I know I am safe there, but it is with mixed emotions that I am there.

I started working at the new Peebles store in Bowling Green on April 20 with 29 others who were all trying for the same 10 jobs. We all knew going in that only 10 of us would survive the final cut, but I went in feeling pretty confident. I had already turned down an offer to be the assistant manager at full-time status.

My reasons were many...my boss and family know those reasons. I won't go into them here, but those reasons were fully explored, fully fretted, and over-discussed during a course of three days and two sleepless nights. I had all of their support in that decision, and felt confident in that.

Tonight, I'm kind of kicking myself.

April 20 started with training: Videos, rules, paperwork, boring, snooze, ugh, and hoping it will just end. On April 21, I was one of four guys who helped unload a full semi load of product. And when I say full, I mean full...we opened the door and boxes fell out. I haven't been that tired since I re-roofed my old garage when I lived in Cygnet.

The balance of the last two weeks have consisted of getting those boxes unpacked, setting up racks and displays, and placing product, rearranging, and changing everything to make it look perfect.

On Wednesday, my boss pulled me aside and asked if I would be interested being "third key," which is like a managerial supervisor position. I still don't have all of the details. Again I asked for some time to think about it, and I discussed it with Jenn and dad. In the end, I decided that I didn't want to turn down yet ANOTHER opportunity for additional responsibility.

If nothing else, it looks good on my resume. More importantly, it gives me an opportunity to work on my managerial skills, further prove my trustworthiness to even more people, and...let's face it...make more money.

I am still looking for a full-time job, but I'm pretty happy about this decision. Once I find a full-time job, I will be able to do both, which is the end goal. Until then, bills will be a little tight. But one part-time job is better than no job, so I'm very pleased.

So what's up with the mixed emotions, you ask? Well, as we all know, nothing is perfect. I was working tonight, and I had no fewer than three unrelated customers ask me if I was a manager or that they thought I WAS the manager because 1) I looked and acted like it, and 2) because I knew what I was doing.

The first time, I was pretty proud, and thanked them for their kind words. The second time, the little red flag went about a fourth of the way up the pole. The THIRD time, that red flag was completely unfurled and I started really second-guessing my decision to turn down the full-time assistant manager position.

I went to my boss and asked her if she ever felt like kicking herself for what might have been a bad decision, and she knew exactly what I was talking about. She then proceeded to tell me that the regional manager, who worked side-by-side with us for the last two weeks, had told her that I would have made a great assistant manager. She told him she offered and that I turned him down, and his response was "oh, THAT'S the guy!!!"

That story also explains why when the corporate guys toured the store on Wednesday and wanted us to move all of the wall displays down about 10 inches that he came to me first and told me he wanted me to handle "a big job," and then proceeded to watch as I enlisted the help of several other people to get the job done quickly...since he told me at 4 and we were all supposed to leave at 6. He was testing me and my leadership abilities.

It also explains why, when my boss offered me the "third key" position, he came in the room during our meeting, basically interrupted the discussion, asked me if I was willing to relocate, and told me I could go really far in the company.

That was a heck of an ego boost for me, but also kind of a kick, because I could have been a step ahead already.

Come to find out that all four members of the set-up team he brought in all individually told my boss that they thought I would make a really good assistant manager.

So all of that is one reason for the mixed emotions.

But there also is part of me that doesn't WANT to be a manager, or an assistant manager. That part of me had a hard time tonight watching two really good guys get cut from our team as part of that "whittle down to 10." I understand the reasoning for both of them - now that I'm third key, I'm in the loop about a lot more things - but they were still good guys, and one of them really needed this job. I hated watching my boss let them go. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and having recently been on the receiving end of the "we have to let you go" speech, I felt really, really bad for them.

But it makes me realize how lucky and blessed I really am, and I can't take what I have for granted, as I do all too often.

Another thing eating at me is that there is a slim chance that I may return to the Sentinel soon. One of my co-workers there died on April 17, for reasons that we still don't know. He was only 44. He went to bed one night and simply didn't wake up the next morning. I have been told that there is a chance the Sentinel may replace him...and maybe not. But if they do, I have been promised that I will be his replacement.

Oh good...I get to replace the well-respected guy who I looked up to, who taught me how to report the issues I reported, who died. Can you appreciate how all of that could make me uncomfortable? I feel like a vulture just waiting to benefit from the misfortune of others. I know it's not really like that, but that's how it feels.

The rumor mill is running rampant about my "imminent return," but I have no guarantees of that, and I am not getting my hopes up until I hear one way or the other from my former boss. He told me he would let me know about 2 1/2 weeks after my co-worker died. That means I should know sometime next week. I'm trying not to think about it. I want to go back, but I'm afraid to. I'm afraid of being layed off again if things continue to get worse. It's not the Sentinel's fault. Newspapers all over the country are laying off and making drastic cuts.

In the meantime, I also also have a few other projects pending that could turn into good additional part-time or temporary jobs.

I just take it one day at a time and hope for the best.

Possibly the shortest-lived blog ever

I have been kicking around the idea of this blog pretty much since I got laid off. I have thought about what it would look like, what the topic would be, and how I would censor myself in case potential employers found it.

Most of all, I spent a lot of time thinking about if I really wanted to say what was on my mind, since my emotions have been everywhere during the past month.

Actually, today IS one month. I was laid off one month ago today. I'm going to drink a beer tonight to celebrate.

But I will be celebrating more than unemployment. Hopefully it will be a celebration of short-term unemployment.

On Monday, I attended what I call a "cattle call" in Bowling Green. This particular cattle call was for a store called Peebles that is opening up just down the road from my house on April 30. Everyone walked in, filled out an application and interviewed on the spot.

The woman who interviewed me just called me and wants a second interview on Friday. So I will be there!

Jenn isn't excited about retail, but anything ... even a fast food job or cleaning the drunk tanks at the jail ... is better than what I have now!

So keep your fingers crossed for me!

What does it all mean?

I'm bored.

Not really. I was laid off from my job as a writer for the local newspaper on Feb. 17. I had been there for 10 1/2 years. It was my first job out of college, and my first career. I planned to stay there and retire.

I had an inkling that it may be coming, so I e-mailed myself all of my contact numbers and e-mail addresses about three weeks before the axe fell. I thought maybe I was safe, but there is no such thing, come to find out.

I'm not bitter. I'm mad, frustrated, scared and flat-out broke, but not bitter.

And tonight I feel optimistic. That usually isn't a word that is in a journalist's vocabulary. You can only report on so many murders and assaults and drug busts and lies before you get a little jaded and stop believing in and trusting people.

This layoff has been a blessing in that way. I have had the opportunity to get to know my five-month-old son, Kaleb and what all of his cries and funny sounds mean. I have been able to spend more time with my 5-year-old son, Evan, who recently earned his yellow belt with a stripe in karate. I have had a chance to argue, cry, be afraid, learn, establish a plan, and truly reconnect with my wife, Jenn.

I have fought with job and family services at both the local and state level. I have been frustrated by the incapacity of the people at the Child Support Enforcement Agency to have a heart or to allow me to look out for the son who lives with me. I have accused a credit card "counselor" of being a heartless, uncompassionate liar, and I have told more people than I can count that you can't squeeze blood from a stone.

At the same time, I have seen unbelievable acts of kindness, from unwavering multi-pronged support from my parents, a surprise hug from my brother (unheard of!), support from my in-laws, a surprise phone call from a former co-worker, constant e-mails from one co-worker and two colleagues, numerous visits from a close friend who has seen me deal with a lot of emotional baggage through the years, an unbelievable act of kindness from my Internet Service Provider, and hundreds of dollars in reduced fees from another creditor.

It is these acts of kindness that are helping to eliminate that jaded state of my soul and make me a better husband, father, son, and overall person.

So now, I take care of Kaleb 3 days a week. During the other two days, I run around madly trying to find a new job. Every other weekend and on Wednesday nights we add Evan to the fray. At all times, I am doing housework; searching for the Bigger, Better Job; and reading a variety of hints and tips on how to survive this crisis we currently are in.

Last night, Jenn and I watched the 1983 movie Mr. Mom. Jenn and I both noticed that it pretty much describes us to a T. I just haven't become addicted to the soaps...yet.

So this all leads me to reason this blog is titled "Stronger Now" and has the phrase "rise fall rise again" in the address.

Those are references to two songs that are appropriate to current events and previous events in my life. While the specifics of the songs do not always directly coincide with those events, the sentiments of the songs remain the same. I have included the lyrics here:

Broken Beat and Scarred
By Metallica
(Listen to it here)

You rise, you fall, you're down, then you rise again
What don't kill you make you more strong
You rise, you fall, youre down, then you rise again
What don't kill you make you more strong

Rise, fall, down, rise again
What don't kill you make you more strong
Rise, fall, down, rise again
What don't kill you make you more strong

Through black days
Through black nights
Through pitch black insights

Breaking your teeth on the hard life coming
Show your scars
Cutting your feet on the hard earth running
Show your scars
Breaking your life
Broken, beat and scarred
But we die hard

The dawn, the death, the fight to the final breath
What don't kill you make you more strong
The dawn, the death, the fight to the final breath
What don't kill you make you more strong

Dawn, death, fight, final breath
What don't kill you make you more strong
Dawn, death, fight, final breath
What don't kill you make you more strong

They scratched me
They scraped me
They cut and rape me

Breaking your teeth on the hard life coming
Show your scars
Cutting your feet on the hard earth running
Show your scars
Breaking your life
Broken, beat and scarred
But we die hard

Breaking your teeth on the hard life coming
Show your scars
Cutting your feet on the hard earth running
Show your scars
Braiding your soul in a hard luck story
Show your scars
Spilling your blood in a hot suns foray
Show your scars
Breaking your life
Broken, beat and scarred
We die hard

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stronger Now
By Warrant
(Listen to it here)

I held you for a moment in my hands
The moment with you slipped away like sand
Through my fingers now
In front of me a choice I have to make
To carry on or simply fade away
I lose you either way
I'd like to say that it was easy, it was hard
To say goodbye, I thought that I would die
Chorus
Letting go of you, was so hard to
And I thought that it would kill me but I made
It through somehow, and I'm so much stronger now
I gave to you my love and my respect
But I could never make you love me back
I denied it so
I grew bitter watching you grow cold
My life became your prison, took it's toll
I decided
Like a bird that's trapped
Inside a gilded cage
It's right to set it free,
Hurts to watch it
Fly away
Letting go of you, was so hard to
And I thought that it would kill me but I made
It through somehow, and I¹m so much stronger now

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The themes of those two songs embody what life and this blog are all about: We rise, fall, get down, then we rise again. What doesn't kill us makes us more strong, and I AM stronger now. But I know I will fall again. We all have our days. It's how we come out on the other side that counts.

As Andy Dufresne said in the movie The Shawshank Redemption, "Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."