Air Travel, Hotel Living & Speaking Spanish

Earlier this week, I  took my last fight of 2014 (Thank goodness it is for fun and not work!).  As that trip comes closer, a few thoughts come to mind:

I travel a lot; Maybe not as much as everyone, but if I were to guess, more than 97% of the rest of America. Delta tells me that I have done about 100,000 in this year alone.  As you read that last sentence, you will most likely fall into one of two groups: “Wow, look at all of the free trips you can take” or “Bummer, you missed Diamond”.  For me, it just means I get to board first, sit closer to the front and will have overhead space for my carry ons.

In reality, there really are only two groups that are happy with that number above:  Delta Airlines and Hilton Hotels (my family is not even close to being in the top 10 of “happy groups”).  When I travel, I am as loyal as I can be. I certainly won’t do it to my detriment or if the price is way out of whack.  But, like most people, I want to get points, earn status and have the opportunity to enjoy life (with my “upgrades”) and of course, with my family.  Since the first frequent flyer program was put into place in 1972, it has been a huge success to not only the travel industry, but also to the traveler. Of course, Delta and Hilton want me to use their services 100% of the time, and by offering these inceptives it sure doesn’t hurt. So I will take what I can get when I travel.

But truth be told, for me after all of these years of traveling, I just want to get home.  Yes, I like the perks, I love the upgrades, but I like sleeping in my own bed next to my wife and kissing my children goodnight more.

For a number of years, I used to fly into the Rochester NY airport fairly frequently.  I always caught the last flight of the day out of Atlanta so I could start my day bright and early and try to get as much in as I could.

Flying Time

I always knew that with three kids, time would run together and I would be an official carpool parent for an extended period of time.  When my oldest son, James, was first born, people said time would fly by and I would be surprised at how fast it occurred.  I thought to myself, like every parent does: “How can 18 years fly by?”.  Well I am here to tell you it does!

I am sitting here with just a few months left before James heads off to college.  We don’t know where he will end up, but we have a 1 in 7 guess based on the applications that he has submitted. It is hard to think how difficult these next few months will be knowing that my little boy will be moving out and going someplace where I can’t see him every day. The house will seem different with him not being around and causing some sort of ruckus and the daily routines will certainly change.

As I think about the upcoming transition, I have realized a few things.  First, it really has dawned on me that it has been the small things that have been important and not the big life events.  Of course a number of examples come to mind, but best example, I can share is a tradition that started when James was first born.  Almost every night, since James was a little boy, I have kissed him (and his siblings) good night. For those nights that I was traveling and not at home, I would call home at exactly 8:30 to say good night.  It didn’t matter where I was in the world and what time it was for me, if it was 8:30 for him, I would be on the phone saying good night and asking about his day.  I have never found anyone: a client, employee or boss that didn’t appreciate the ritual and effort in being there for my kids. There were times it was a hard goal to accomplish and I had to ask my wife for help. Most of those times were when we lived in California and I was in Europe or Africa.  The time difference made it so that she had to call and wake me up from a sound sleep.  I can’t say I was very coherent, but at least I got to hear his voice.

As he got older, it became easier to either miss a kiss good night or a call home. I realized recently that I was not living up to the promise I made to him those many years ago. I am not sure what promoted me to start making sure that I kissed them goodnight every night again, but I think I just missed doing it and restarted what should have never ended.  

Kids and Water

With the end of summer, comes reflection on these past few months.  I am not sure what it is, but kids love water and these last few summers, for my kids, have been all about water.  To be honest, as a parent, I love the fact that they do.  To say that there is something magical about kids and water is a bit melodramatic.  But every time I see my kids and playing in the water, or any one else’s kids for that mater, I smile.

As my kids grow, they are willing to try and do things that they would have been hesitant to do just a few years ago. Sometimes it makes my stomach turn when I see them do things that could cause them to get hurt.  But, I guess that is all about growing up.

Hartwell_Water-2 Hartwell_Water-1
Even when we are out on the water just “hanging”, it seems to be a special time. So here is to next summer.  And a thanks to my kids for making memories for your parents.  Can’t wait until next year!



Adventures of an Almost 50 Year Old

A friend recently made a comment that I never seem to grow up.  I am not sure if that was a compliment, criticism, or maybe some jealousy.  Though, he may have a valid point. Afterwards, I thought about his comment, and I guess I do seem to live a life on the edge or at least do things that most people never would even think about doing.

This year was no exception.

20 years ago, I had returned to the US after walking off of Kilimanjaro. My first stop was at the apartment of my future wife. I am sure I looked like hell, I had not shaved or cut my hair in forever (yes I did bath). I don’t know if she knew it then, but she knows now: I like to do things off the beaten trail. The same friend who told me I don’t grow up  (this same friend is who introduced me to my wife), asked why I do these things. I put my head down, thought about it, and looked at him and said, “I want to do things people only dream of and don’t actually do“.  He said he appreciated my candor; I laughed.

I love climbing, I love going high on a mountain.  But with kids and that silly thing called a job, I had stopped climbing.  I knew I was getting restless, so after a long period, I decided I need to determine if I still “had it”.  I wanted to try some glacier climbing on Mount Rainer as a prep to see if I could do Mount Denali.  I looked at the best groups to help me reach my goal and chose RMI Guides.  


Unfortunately, the trip did not exactly go accordingly to plan.  Two months before I was to leave, I was told that I had two hernias and needed to have surgery. However silly it sounds, that did not deter me.  My surgeon convinced me that I could still climb and wait until after I got off the mountain to have the surgery.  And that become the plan.

First Shave

There are a number of “firsts” in everyones life.  First date, first plane ride, first words. For young men, there is also a first shave.  I don’t remember how old I was when I started shaving, maybe 13 or 14; but I do remember when my father showed me how to do it.  He first shaved himself, then he walked me through the steps and showed me what to do and more importantly, what not to do.

I am not sure why that memory has stuck with me for so long, but it has.  As my boys grew up, I knew the time would come for me to show them what my father had taught me so many years ago.

With our oldest son James, it went exactly as I had thought it would.  James and I both noticed that it was “time” and I showed him the how-tos of shaving that my father had taught me so many years ago.  When the same time arrived for our 2nd son, William, it was a far different story.  When I pointed out his facial hair to him, he didn’t ask me to show him how to shave, he asked his older brother.

I was not upset, far from it.  I was more surprised than anything.

What happened next is a memory I shall not forget.  I think the pictures below speak for themselves.

My 2¢ on Crossfit

My wife was on my case about my “growing stomach”, and to make matters worse, and even my friends even were pointing it out. I knew I had to do something to get back in shape, but what was the question.  It’s not that I was horribly fat, but at 6’ 1”, I was getting close to 200 pounds and that was the heaviest I had ever been. No matter how many times, I told myself I had to do something, I wasn’t doing anything about it and kept making excuses because of a “lack of time”. I hated tradition gyms, hated running (thanks to a high school track coach), and I knew I had to be motivated by someone to get my butt in gear on a regular basis.  Simply put: I knew I knew I could not do it alone.

Like most of us, my youth was filled with sports and activities.  I had always considered myself an athlete, but as life moved on, I stopped being active and grew to watch my kids being the athletes.

In early 2013 I saw my age creeping to 49 and I started looking hard at what I should do.  I didn’t know much, if anything, about Crossfit.  While I had heard about it, I didn’t know anyone who had actually participated in it.  Every once in a while I would drive home a different way and kept passing a sign for a Crossfit gym (or Box as they are called).  And then one day, I saw a Facebook post by a friend of a friend who had joined a local Box and loved it.  And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Like every other typical guy, I did 30 seconds of research and decided what was best for me and called Crossfit North Alpharetta (CFNA).  I booked an introduction class and waited to begin the path to the new and improved me. The following Saturday, I met with Heather, one of the owners of CFNA; she shared with us what Crossfit was about and what we should expect.  She discussed the natural movements of each workout, the Olympic lifting, cardio and diet as well.  She then put us through a “light workout”.

I just about died.

And So It Re-Begins

A few years ago I used to “blog” a lot.  Almost every day I would post a picture, tell a story and share.  As time moved on, so did life.  While I still posted, I moved over to 140 character posts and stopped writing at any length.  It was lazy, I know; but I was OK with lazy every once in a while.  But, to be honest, I missed it.

As life moved on, I also stopped updating my websites regularly and only posted to Facebook. Well that made me even miss writing even more.  So here I am, back to where it all begin. Back to writing, back to posting pictures, back to telling a story.

My goal this time, is the same it was 7 years ago: to write, post images and to share a moment in time.  It really is that simple.  Will I post every day?  No.  Will I post regularly?  That is the plan. No themes; just stories about family, kids, my wife, my dog, work, life, etc.  You get the idea.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I will.  To be honest, I can’t wait.