Dad Lessons.

Well hello, internet.

I know - we're both surprised to see me here, only I'm slightly less surprised because I know something that you don't.  It's already my father's birthday where I am, in Alaska.  In fact, it's been my father's birthday for nearly four hours in Ohio, where he is. 

And my father is an incredible man, one worth celebrating.  

To commemorate my Papa, I compiled a list of things I've learned from him.  It is as follows ...

51 Things I have learned from my father:

1. If you're in a situation where you can read someone's first name, use it.

2. Eric Clapton is the greatest guitarist of all time.

3. Love is non-negotiable.

4. Learning is a lifestyle.

5. Bread, condiment, cheese, then meat.

6. The difference between humor and comedy.

7. All the words to Bohemian Rhapsody.

8. Kindness is very least you can give of yourself. 

9. The fine art of nachos. 

10. Don't judge food by it's gas station.

11. Dancing doesn't require a reason.

12. Practically everything I know about math.

13. Happiness is a decision, not an equation. 

14. Singing is soul-nourishing.  

15. There are a lot of rules to the game of cribbage.

16. Ye who smelt it, dealt it. 

17. Not to pull fingers.

18. How to play guitar. 

19. How to sing harmony. 

20. That whoever I marry, man, woman, goat or alien, must have a job. 

21. Westerns, kung-fu, and noir films are fantastic.

22. There are things not worth being afraid of or worried about.

23. Be grateful always.

24. Everything there is to know about Superman.

25. Reading is the very best.

26. Writing is pretty swell too.

27. If you're hungry, quick whining about it and cook something.

28. But also be very gracious when someone feeds you anyway.

29. Let people know you love them.

30. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. 

31. Peanut butter does not just go with jelly.

32. There is no lower limit. 

33. All of the most hilarious things from the internet. 

34. You can dream/scheme for free. 

35. Don't knock it 'til you try it. 

36. Grammar is important, but not really. 

37. Doing the right thing is always priority. 

38. You can't predict the future - especially with a horoscope. 

39. Find satisfaction in all of your victories, including small ones.

40. But sometimes, you just gotta suck it up.

41. Nay-sayers are not worth listening to.

42. Be creative.

43. The value of listening.

44. Know and own who you are.

45. How to be cool.

46. How to make myself laugh.

47. Live with hope in your heart.

48. Ask big questions.

49. Be happy just to be here. 

50. Be aware of the blessings and good things in your life. 

51. My father will always and unconditionally love me. 

Frankly, the list goes on. 

My father is a rare individual; he is equal parts cool dude, smarty-pants, rock and roll, jack of literally all trades, and quality good man.  I cannot fathom his equal.  He has taught me more in my short life than anyone else.  He is cultivated and kind.  He is thoughtful.  He is a man with a plan.  He is true. 

He is a jolly good fellow, and I dare anyone to deny it. 

I love my father so very much.  Everyone should have one like mine. 

Dad, thank you for everything - including the things you haven't even done yet.  I love you, Dad. I truly think the world of you.

Readers, if you've learned something from this swell guy, might I ask that you share it here?  Pop down and leave a comment!  Having been a teacher for over 25 years, I'm sure he's imparted some gems out there.  

Or, if you're the mood for some sweet Don Dudding jams, check out his new album on iTunes: http://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/don-dudding/id392865574

Happy Birthday, Dad!

#23 "Double Standards"

According to a quick search of the web, the phrase “Double Standards” first appeared in some political commentary published in 1912.  This means, of course, that the idea of using these words while discussing the differences between how two groups get treated differently is sneaking up on its 100 birthday.  Wow, at first, it boggles my mind to think about all the groups who have a legitimate beef with how they are treated unfairly, and then, I tried to consider the even longer list of groups who feel they are being mistreated when perhaps they really need to suck it up and realize that nobody gets everything they want.

As a rhetorician, one of the ideas I cherish the most is the concept that we often refer to as “The Principal of Similar Cases.”  The basic thought behind this principal is that when two things are the same, they should be treated the same unless a reason is given for treating them differently.  One of the reasons this particular ideal resonates so deeply within me is that I grew up with a twin brother, and each of us was acutely aware (often painfully so) when we perceived that one of us was getting some kind of favor or break the other one wasn’t.

It didn’t matter that we were two completely different people in our abilities and attitudes; what did matter to us was that we were exactly the same age – so as far as we could comprehend the world, if one of us was given permission to do something, then, the other better receive permission as well or all bloody hell was going to break loose in the Dudding household.  Naturally, I understand much more now than I did when I was between the ages of say four to twelve, so I have much more sympathy for what my brother, Dan, and I put our mother through.

“It’s not fair,” one of us would bellow when we perceived the violation of “The Principal of Similar Cases” (we did not know it was called this then, but its expectation was apparently etched into our DNA).  Inevitably, our mother would respond with the phrase that pretty much became her mantra through our childhood, “Get used to it.  Life’s not fair.”

And that’s the rub when it comes to “Double Standards,” is it?  When all know that life is unfair, and yet we continue marching forward through the mire with the faint hope that somehow, somewhere down the road, it will be.

It would not be too far from wrong to say that my entire life has been spent trying to reconcile the cognitive dissidence that comes from wanting life to be reasonable while knowing that it’s often not.  The irony is recursive and paradoxical like when we see the reflection of one mirror in another mirror and we notice the long series of ever smaller replications.   We want (and often expect) life to be reasonable, but that desire is itself unreasonable.  Even when we can get all parties within a disagreement to agree upon the importance of using reason in settling a dispute, we still find ourselves with the conundrum of answering the question, “Who gets the final call on determining what is and what isn’t reasonable?”

While not everyone is a parent, we all have the experience of being children, and typically what we think is reasonable is an odd revision of what we were taught to think was reasonable as we grew up as a member of a family.  We don’t always see eye to eye with out parents, or our siblings, or our spouses, and (especially) with our children.  It’s not reasonable to expect that we will always see eye to eye with them.  The question, then, when we’re trying to work issues out, whose logic gets favored?  Whose rationale for what is or isn’t acceptable becomes the standard by which one or the other can rightly claim, “well, at least in this situation, I was right and you were wrong”?

The idea that there is a single right idea is not only irrational but it becomes comical when we try to revisit an argument later.  “When we were arguing about X the other day, you said Z” is often how we try to start.  “I never did say Z,” you or the other person will counter, “That’s what you thought you heard.  What I actually said was Y.”  And then, instead of trying to settle the rationales of the argument you thought you had, you can get all cranky and crazy over the argument you didn’t have.  “You didn’t say Y,” you might respond, “because if you had said Y, I wouldn’t have said W.”

The only solution is to keep moving forward and keep expecting that someday it will all get better.  Optimism may not be rational, but it’s soothing.  You can say optimism isn’t soothing if you want to, but I’ll have to fight you on that one.

Just remember, two things: first, after a big argument when all is said and done, more gets said than done.  And second, we don’t need a reason to love each other so it’s better if we just go ahead and do that (even if the other person will never admit in the heat of the last argument that she was adamant about Z, but now vehemently denies ever saying any such thing).

#22 Rituals - Olivia

The ritual is a rare bird.

It's the bizarre cousin of tradition and habit that fraternizes with a more serious edge.  It lacks the same nonchalance (in my estimation) as garden variety "routine," but it also seems more habitual and quirky than the idea of tradition.  The word ritual invokes a certain sacred nature for me.  I think of Egyptians, to be honest.  Rituals seem like they need outfits, but I'm probably just confusing that for basic preparation.

I suppose a ritual doesn't have to include virginal sacrifice, but I do think it should hold a little pomp.   Even the most seemingly trivial rituals can hold a note of ceremony if you do it right. 

While I hesitate to say that I don't have any personal rituals, they are certainly few and far between.  Perhaps writing on this blog counts as a ritual?  But even then, we can see I was thrown off by the holidays (don't worry folks, you'll get those posts back.)  Other than that, I'm stumped to think of my own rituals.  I feel like I had several when I was young, but some how grew out of them. 

When I was young, I remember after school rituals best.  After school, I would come to my grandparents house, pick up the remote and watch very specific television shows.  My sister and I would watch the same television shows until they stopped airing, and then we would move on and find something else.  I'm pretty sure I watched the entirety of The Power Rangers at my grandmother's house.  I also saw the rise and fall of The Rosie O'Donnell Show.  But what made this mere habit of watching shows after school into a full blown ritual would be presence and sanctity of the Schwann man treats. 

If I was aware of my grandparents being superb at something, it was their taste in treats for their grandchildren.  Otter pops, Push-pops, Creamsicles, Mini cups filled with all kinds of frozen delights, and most hallowed of all, the Mississippi Mud bar.  

But eventually, the after school ritual came to an abrupt end when I switched schools in 7th grade.  And really, nothing came to replace it.  Since then, I've been a "fly by the seat of my pants" kinda gal.  I get antsy with monotony.  I change my hair all the time and crave the thrill of something new. 

That said, I do admire the ritual and generally like the idea, but I'm just not sure where it would fit in my life. 

Maybe that should be a 2011 goal?

Goals of 2011 thus far:

1) Read constantly.
2) Write just as often.
3) Try foods I remember disliking.
4) Learn to sew.
5) Get hair cuts regularly.
6) Speak jive.
7) Get on a regular sleeping schedule.
8) Thoughtfully create rituals. 

#22 Rituals -- Don

There are two kinds of rituals: the religious ceremonies that follow a particular pattern and which are meant to produce a specific spiritual result and the secular routines we fall into by habit.  Because it’s a new year and I’m already feeling grumpy about what it’s going to take to survive the winter ahead, I’m going to stay away from discussing the religious type of rituals and stick to those ordinary habits that we so often fall into.  I figure that grumpy begets grumpy and if I grouse about religion today, I’ll only incur that much more grumpiness.

Like pretty much everything else in life, rituals are beneficial when they help us get through our day and are obnoxious when they stand in the way of where we want to go.  My morning rituals, for example, are good because by having a set pattern for my morning activities, I don’t have to think too much about what I need to do next.  Perhaps I’m like a lot of people, but my brain isn’t interested in doing any heavy lifting until it’s got a little coffee lubricating its gears. Furthermore, during the school year, I don’t allow myself to have any coffee until after I arrive at work (this practice helps to motivate me to get out the door and on the road), so I need my morning rituals to help me get through mornings without leaving behind the work keys or my wallet while, at the same time, not overtaxing a brain that is going to grind its transmission if I try to force it into first gear before it’s sufficiently warmed up.

My morning rituals help keep me moving forward without the need to try and remember what I’ve got to do next.  I never have to wonder if I brushed my teeth this morning because I always brush my teeth after I put on the deodorant.  I don’t have to wonder if I remembered to put on the deodorant because I always do that first thing after toweling off from the shower.  If I’m getting dressed and I’m not soaking wet, I can assume I’ve also brushed my teeth and put on the deodorant.  See?  No heavy lifting for the brain that still wants to go back to bed even when it only vaguely understands that there’s still breakfast and socks to deal with.

My best rituals come at the gas station.  If at all possible, I try to buy my gas at Speedway because I like the special routine of signing in at the pump with their customer rewards card.  Now, everyone who knows me knows that I can be cheap about a lot of things.  Back when I was a kid, gas stations used to give away plates and towels as customer loyalty reward gifts, but I’m grateful to live in the 21^st century because I don’t want a free towel or a plate (or even a roadmap), I want a free hot dog or a free slice of pizza.  And, from time to time, that’s what Speedway gives me. 

They also give me a free fountain drink about every five times I buy gas because part of my Speedway ritual is buying a Diet Pepsi at the fountain.  So while other people might find the whole extra motion of putting in an additional card into the pump a bother, I like it.  I like to stand there while the pump is thinking it over after I’ve put in my Speedy card and read the message, “Processing Customer Loyalty.”  It’s almost like the gas pump itself is an old friend when it flashes my name on its screen, “Welcome, Don Dudding.”  Of course, my old friend knows my name but goes on to tempt me to buy two bags of Fritos for an extra 200 points.  “Sorry, Gas Pump, not today.  I’m just here for the gas, the Diet Pepsi, and a free hot dog if you spit a coupon out at me for a free hot dog.”  Although the free hot dog (or slice of pizza) coupon only occasionally comes at the cash register after I’ve paid, it comes often enough to keep me coming back.  Sometimes that free hot dog is enough to persuade me to go ahead and get those two bags of Fritos so I can garner those 200 bonus points.  I mean it; anyone who doesn’t love bonus points is a communist.

I have on occasion tried to buy gas and not get the Diet Pepsi at the fountain.  It just doesn’t work.  I drive away feeling deprived and it’s difficult to steer through the tears streaming down my cheeks.  It’s as though the truck got its beverage so I need one too.  Of course, I can live without the hot dog or the pizza because I’m going to wait for a free one. 

I was going to stay away from commenting on religious rituals, but in closing I’m finding it hard to end this blog without pointing out that the spiritual benefits of religious ceremonies are sometimes difficult to point to and say definitively “this is what I got out of that,” but my gas station rituals, on the other hand, have had their ontology proven time and again with chili sauce, mustard, and onions.