MY DAD TAUGHT ME...TO
FOCUS ON THE BIG PICTURE
Sometimes
I can be the most impatient and easily frustrated person on the planet.
But a
foundation of values, created by my father and polished by my beautiful wife,
has taught me to get over life’s maddening setbacks while focusing on the long
journey and big picture.
That is why I have used humor in my words to describe my father's influence in my life.
I understand the tears of all the people touched by the life of Kenneth Lee
Wright. But I feel this is more of a celebration than a ritual of sadness.
My
dad did most everything he wanted to do, saw most everything he wanted to see
and raised two sons to ages 46 and 50.
In his 70s, the healthy as a horse
Midwesterner who probably missed fewer than 10 days of work in 40 years, fought
a combination of maladies that robbed him of his energy and tranquility.
That
suffering has gracefully ended and why I have created a dozen blog posts to remember the man who taught
his oldest son to be a man...
...a man that I hope he is proud of (he always told
me he was proud of me and I loved him for saying it).
I am proud of him and I
will tell his good story till the day when the time comes for my body to be at
restful peace forever.
MY DAD TAUGHT ME...
TO
DUST YOURSELF OFF AND GET BACK INTO THE BATTER’S BOX
Sorry for another
sports analogy, but dad’s words and actions taught me resiliency.
My unconventional career path has easily been marked by as many colossal failures
as victory dances in the dugout.
Had my dad not taught me persistence, I'd have
given up after a couple setbacks and been living under a bridge.
Instead,
I have been able to discuss Dali’s Persistence of Memory with the curator of
MOMA during a private tour.
MY DAD TAUGHT ME...TO
CALL THE PLUMBER!
My grandpa was one of the greatest handymen in all the
Great Lakes region.
He built most of his own house and probably never paid a
cent to a repair man, electrician or plumber -- because he could fix anything
with his hands, no instruction booklet required.
Dad, well, did NOT
genetically inherit those skills.
After a few broken faucets, fried electrical
outlets and hammer smashed thumbs (with requisite high volume, multi-syllable
cursewords that I'm pretty sure we were not allowed to repeat) -- dad proved
the point that sometimes it’s best to dial the experts before even trying. Dad
learned to dial the experts.
I learned my lesson and never tried to grow
up to be Mr. FixIt.
I simply figured a way of selling enough prose and
poetry to pay for the plumber.
This is a 12-day tribute to my dad, who died a few days before Thanksgiving this year, from his first-born son.
MY DAD TAUGHT ME...TO NOT GET OBSESSED WITH SPORTS
Though I would have swapped my soul to become
the starting 3rd baseman for the Cleveland Indians, anybody saw me on the
little league diamond knew I'm I was going to make it to the locker room, it
would be as a sportswriter, not as an athlete.
Learning how do adapt from jock
wannabe to journalist allowed me to cover pro sports. Eventually, as policy
advisor to the Chairman of the Miami City Commission, I helped negotiate a
stadium deal with Major League Baseball to keep the Marlins in Miami.
(my
clause in the contact, requiring that the Florida club renounce its 97 World
Series title to the rightful champion Tribe was deleted by the baseball
commissioner!).
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