HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

YUP, I ROLL 52 TODAY

One year walking this earth for every card in the deck.

More than 30 of it spent with my wonderful wife, Heidi.

The past nearly two without my late father, Ken.

Product of small town Midwest, far outside Cleveland and just outside the smokestacks of Akron.

Moved to South Florida on Election Day 2000.

Almost 15 years in our historic Little Havana house.

Put half what we paid for it into restoration.

Will be paid off in fewer than 2 years.

Hard wood floors, some in need of carpentry and a refinish.

Good bones, lots of abuse in its nearly hundred years.

Beaten a bit, not unlike my body after its more than half century in the rain, snow, wind and sun.

Would ask for a re-do on anything.

Learned from my mistakes.

Treasured every friendship.

Knew when to leave a job when the bosses or owners were toxic.

Reinvented myself at least three times....means prolly a pair of reinventions still on the road ahead.

No desire to live past average life expectancy.

Why be greedy about it.

Have already outlived a lot of classmates and rock stars.

Unafraid of what's on the other side.

For sure, no more bills.

No more Testigos banging on my door to wake me from a Saturday nap.

Just long, long rest would suit me fine.

Until then, lots of rescue cats to take care of.

And blog posts to write.

A TRIBUTE TO KEN WRIGHT 1935-2014 PART 12

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.

A TRIBUTE TO KEN WRIGHT 1935-2014 PART 11

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.

A TRIBUTE TO KEN WRIGHT 1935-2014 PART 10

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. 

A TRIBUTE TO KEN WRIGHT 1935-2014 PART 9

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!).