Living The Dream

Growing up in the small town in NJ, I remember hearing the marching band coming down the streets for a parade, be it the annual Christmas parade or about a football game coming, or whatever.  It was an event and everybody would run out of their homes to see it once they heard the drums echoing through the streets.

I remember my mom saying “Ralphy, the parade is coming” and we would fly down those stairs.  I was probably in 2nd grade or 3rd grade.  That lead to me wanting to play the drums.  When I got into 4th grade, during orientation, my mom walked with me to the band room and I was there with her when I met the band director, Mr. Pampel. She told him that I wanted to join the band and play drums.  He looked at me and chuckled cause I was about 3 feet tall at most. OK maybe a little bigger than that but not by much.  I took home the forms and had to pay $20 so that I can get the drum pad, my sticks, the book and before you know it, I was a drummer.  In the concert band .  The marching band was for 7th graders and above. 

I played for several years in concerts until I got my big break to join the marching band.  My first parade was at Six Flags Great Adventure in Jackson, NJ.  Though I didn’t play the drums.  I played the cowbell and man was I nervous.  I remember playing a standard continuous 4 beat quarter note rhythm.  That’s when Pampel ran to me and said “put some soul into it, after all you are Spanish, right? Where’s your latin beat?”.  So I started playing the cowbell like there was no tomorrow and I remember the girls in another band start dancing to my rhythm.  That was amazing.

Around my 5th grade, the priest at our church asked who wanted to play guitar.  I was an alter server and told him that I wanted to.  He made arrangements to hire an instructor to teach us how to play guitar but it was so that we can play at the church.  I agreed and when I was 13, I bought my first guitar.  I played guitar for years at the church, practically until I got married.  So music has been part of my life all along from when I was young.  I almost went to music school until I got bit by the computer bug.  I’ll tell that story another time. 

I would always dream that I was in a rock band, and would spend hours trying to come up with names like “Frequency”, “Classic Soul”, “Latin Connection”… I would be the lead guitarist and would also jump on the drums every now and then.

My oldest son, Dan, practically followed my footsteps wanting to join the band at school and asking me what my opinion was for an instrument.  I told him that I always loved the trumpet, but that I was a drummer at school and that was the coolest instrument for a band.  He agreed and next you know he played the drums all throughout middle and high school and loved it.  He was good at what he did but to this day we still argue as to who is better in the drums.

Now, my youngest son Nick, had no interest in the drums.  We got him a pair when he was about 6 months old and he would use the mallets to hit his older brother when he wasn’t looking.  However, we got him a guitar and that was it.  He found his true passion.  At 18 months old, he would strap on the guitar and you would swear he was doing an Elvis impersonation.  Those hips would move like you can’t imagine and he thought he was on stage all of the time.  Playing the electric guitar with no strings and big red, blue, green and yellow buttons making only noise and shaking his hips like he was being electrocuted.

When he was in middle school he started to play the violin as there were no guitar lessons in middle school.  He did that for 2 years and then asked if we would pay for guitar lessons at a local music shop. We took him to and after listening to the music teachers and talking with some of the students, we offered to pay for his lessons but only under the condition that he play guitar at church.  After all, that is what I did.  He quickly agreed. 

Unlike me, he really picked it up and for him it was almost like an infatuation.  He would constantly watch YouTube videos (we did not have those back then) and study how the greatest rock and roll artists would play the instrument.  He would analyze the way they played, pause the video, rewind it, and repeat it until he figured out how to replay what they did.  He was really good at it.  He did this for hours every day. 

He had the same aspiration of joining a band, playing concerts and writing his own music like I did.  Truth be told, he was better than I was almost immediately, due to his obsession and passion.  His obsession is what I lacked, though the additional tools, training and ability to view what others did easily did give him an advantage I did not have.

Fast forward several years, and guess what.  He did it.  He was asked to play at a benefit concert and that is where he met up with another band.  They asked him if he wanted to jam with him some time.  He said yes and a few weeks later, the band changed their lead singer and asked him to join the band.  They changed their name, and their style (from screamo Rock to Alternative), and they started writing music and playing at a local club.  Just this past week, they released their first single through a streaming service and now it is available on iTunes, Amazon and Google Play.

Things are definitely much easier now but at the same time, his tenacity, desire to do this, and natural talent has brought him closer to doing what he wants to do for a career.  As a parent, I am so proud of him but as someone that also had aspirations to do what he is doing, his accomplishments make me feel complete.  They say you live your life through your kids but I personally what that means to me is that it is great to see them do what you were not able to, and man does that feel great.  While I don’t regret changing my career at the last minute from music to computers it does give me an amazing amount of satisfaction to see him up there playing with his band and getting one step closer to “Living the Dream”.  Congratulations Nick on the release of your first single. I am sure it won’t be the last.

Check out Diary of a Hero by Billy and the Cosbys.

https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/diary-of-a-hero/id838356405?i=838356493

http://www.amazon.com/Diary-Hero-Billy-Cosbys/dp/B00IX9ELYQ/ref=sr_1_1?s=dmusic&ie=UTF8&qid=1394547574&sr=1-1&keywords=billy+and+the+cosby

https://play.google.com/store/music/album/Billy_and_the_Cosbys_Diary_of_a_Hero?id=Bt6wsw2cwpzkagfwxms3cmn2lja

This is One Way of Defining Karma!

One of my sons recently had a situation where he was walking out of work and was approached by a person asking for money.  He told him that he had run into bad times and needed help.  The stranger told my son that he actually knew him.  My son looked at him and was not sure of this and the guy proceeded to tell him that he lived in the same sub-division and that he also knew his father (me) as well.

My sons are both Eagle Scouts and have always tried to “do the right thing” and to “help other people at all times”.  So he turned around and went back into work, and hit the register to withdraw some money.  He walked out and gave the stranger money and then came home, feeling good about what he had done. 

When he got home he told us about this story and my wife and I of course hit the panic button.  While, yes it is morally right to do things like this, it does create a potential situation for something bad to happen.  Especially at 10 PM! 

Who knows if that person had been observing my son as he did this and had a few friends in the parking lot, waiting for him to come out with the money and then did something bad like beat him up, stolen all of his money, or who knows what else.  We gave him examples of situations that we had experienced where people took advantage of us in a similar way and now we officially give money to charity and the poor through official organizations and channels, instead of out of the blue to a person on the street. It was not our intent but our son really took it bad and felt really bad.  To make it worse, while we were discussing this, his story changed several times because he was really concerned about what he had done as well as embarrassed.  He originally told us it was “about $10” but then it changed his tune to be “about $15” to he finally caved and said he gave the man $20.  He was really upset and we tried to calm him down and chalk it up as a learning experience.

The next day, my son leaves school and heads to the mall to take care of a few things.  He meets with some friends and is there for a few hours.  He comes home and tells us that he really believes in Karma.  Given the generosity he demonstrated the day before, someone is really looking out for him.  You see, he met up with a few friends and had something to eat at the food court. But those friends he met with happen to be girls that wanted his opinion on something.  They had him go with them to Victoria Secret’s to check out some bra’s that they would then proceed to try on and get his opinion on.   Of course, while they were wearing them!  Needless to say, our son felt very excited about what he had just done and how he had helped them with their problem as well  

Leave it to Karma to teach him that if he does a good dead, there is a very good chance it will pay him back in very interesting ways, and may actually get his money’s worth!

Easy Come, Easy Go

Have you ever wondered what it is like to be told that you have a son that you did not know about, and by the way who is almost 50 years old when you found out?

The other day, I was visiting Mom when I noticed something was wrong.  She did not stand up to hug and kiss me as I walked through the door like she normally does.  I immediately noticed it and in my usual, kidding self, said “Hey, what’s the matter, you don’t want to say hi?” She just sat there and when I got close she did not know what I was doing. 

My sisters have been experiencing this for 6 months and I knew it was a matter of time that it would happen to me.  To say I was prepared for this, yes and no. I knew it was going to happen but did I expect it that day, or to happen like that?  No.  How did I react?  I was luckily sensitized to this and understood what was happening so I toned down my usual rhetoric and sat next to her, with some space between us and then proceeded to pick up a birthday book that we have on the coffee table to show her some pictures.  The book is something that I put together of the last birthday celebration we had a couple of years back.  I turned 48, and she turned 70.  We share birthdays and for the past almost 50 years I have celebrated my birthday with her and she knew that.  When I showed her the book, she obviously did not remember her birthday, nor who I was, nor that I was her son or that she was 70!  That was the thing that shocked her the most.  She immediately turned to me and said “WHAT? What are your saying? How old am I?” She was shocked.  It was cute and helped soften the fact that she forgot me and it was the beginning of the next phase.  Right now, Dad is the only one that she has remembered consistently but I am sure that won’t be for long.

The fact that I will not have the shared memories with her where we talk about how we share birthdays is going to be hard.  Since they moved down to SC, I have gone to her house or another place like a park every birthday to share a single cake with two sets of candles.  I’ve walked into her house singing “Happy Birthday to Me and You! Happy Birthday to me and you…” while carrying the cake.  I am afraid I will not be able to do that anymore.

Two nights ago, I went there to see how she was doing and she remembered me and was all smiles.  The next day, I called and said I could not come over since I was going out.  She heard this, and said “Hmm.  I have to have a talk with him.  It’s been days since he has been here.”  I showed up the next day and she did not really know who I was again.  I told her gently that it was me, her son and she looked at Dad and said, “Is it true that he is your son?”  Dad responded that I am his and hers.  That she has 4 kids.  I am the oldest, and she has 3 daughters.

I don’t know what the next months will bring but it is clear, we have entered another phase of this disease and have to be more conscious of what she is going through.  After all, how would you react if you were told, that you had a son or daughter that was now 50 years old that you did not know about?

The Ultimate Return on Your Investment

I could also call this post as “you get what you put into it” or “the more you put in, the more you get back” but it means the same. Another way of referring to it could also be “It’s Not about You". What I am referring to is that the commitment and support that you put into your kids throughout their childhood will pay dividends at a certain point. When you first have a child, you don’t think about those things. As the years go on, you can get distracted with the day to day aspects of life and not really think about this “investment” you are making in their lives.

Many years ago, when my oldest son Dan, was 6 years old, we were into things like baseball, soccer and other activities. I say we, because I was the one that wanted him to do those things. After all, I did them when I was growing up as well and that is all I knew. Luisa also wanted him to do those so we thought it was the right thing to do. In the end, he never really wanted to do those things and they weren’t “his things”.

One day, during school, Dan was introduced to scouting during a recruitment campaign at the school. I knew about scouting when I was growing up but it was not as popular in the part of NJ where I grew up as it was in the area we live in here in SC. I had a friend that was boy scout, but he is the only one that I remember of all of the kids I knew that had done it. I did not know anything about it, but that did not stop me from saying to Dan, when he asked me to that I would definitely go with him to the initial meeting. They paint a great picture during those recruitment days. Lots of fun, camping, hiking, swimming, bows and arrows, friendships…

I remember that first campout and being so unprepared for it. Sure, I purchased a tent (of which I knew nothing about), sleeping bags, mess kit (eating utensils, pots, plates for you untrained city folks) and tons of food. The first trip was actually to camp at the school grounds. About 2 miles from my house. Not really what I call adventure in the woods but I was a nervous wreck. Especially with the forecast of rain all weekend. I was scared we would not survive. OK. Very irrational thought considering, 1) Millions of people go camping and have survived. 2) We had a tent/raingear/trained adults, and last but not least, 3) I was only 2 Miles from my house! That night, it rained like crazy, and I did not sleep at all. I panicked with all of the water coming into my tent and wondered how the heck to people do this if water gets in? Then I realized the next time I went, that it was the dew inside the tent and the fact that things touch the tent and get wet. But if you don’t put anything near the inside lining of the tent, it actually stays dry inside!

I wasn’t the only one as there was another newbie that camping and his son left the zipper open. When they woke up the next day, they were floating on their pads. Ah the memories.

And that is the point. The memories you create are amazing during this adventure. The times you spend, are times that are irreplaceable. Unlike other sports that your kids participate in, you can be a coach for them but you don’t participate in it like you do in Scouting. In Scouting every hike is something your son does, alongside with you. Every memory you create, you create together. The time away from the TV, computers, iphones, xboxes, and other gadgets is time that you have to help mold and develop your son in the young man that you want them to be. It is an investment in the future, their future, but beyond that, it is a chance to really share things that you would not do in any other setting.

My kids love milk and cookies. OK, I admit it, so do I. But the best milk and cookies are the ones that I remember. That stick out, that I can recall like if it was yesterday. I was hiking with Dan once, and we went by a water fall. I planned on a surprise lunch that day. We filtered water from the water fall, and then I mixed it with powdered milk to make ice cold, and I mean cold, milk. Then I took out a couple of packages of chocolate chip cookies and we would dunk them into the milk while sitting on a big rock in the middle of the stream. After finishing a 5-7 mile hike. With the water smashing against the rock and drops hitting our backs. I turned around to Dan and said, “Aren’t these the best milk and cookies you have ever had?” I expected his response to be, absolutely. But instead it was, “I like mom’s milk and cookies better.” Now I ask, name a time you had milk and cookies, and can remember the other details like the rocks, the waterfall drops, the aches and pains from the hike…etc.

I have just as amazing experiences with Nick. Nick was very anxious to follow his brother’s footsteps and told me all along that he was going to be an Eagle, just like his brother. There was no question about that in his mind.

While Dan did not really like hiking, and always complained before the hike about having to go, and then of course, after the hikes would say they were “awesome”, Nick never once complained. He amazed me in his ability to hike miles and never once show any sign of being weary. He was like the Energizer bunny and just kept going and going…. He would always get into character, especially with the skits at nigh during the campfires. He would have a ton of fun on those trips, and get about as filthy as you can imagine.

We went mountain biking one time and I nearly wiped out but Nick was right there with me and able to see my youth come back on that bike when I flipped over the bike after hitting a stump and landed on my feet as I flew over the handle bars! It was AMAZING. Our best trip between Nick and I would have to be the time we went sailing around the Florida Keys, on a boat with a small group as part of the Sea Base adventure. It was fantastic time where not only did I conquer my fears of swimming in the deep ocean, and snorkeling around the fish but I did it with my son, Nick.

These are just a sample of the memories that I have shared with my boys and the opportunities I had to have those famous father and son talks. The opportunities to have focused, quality times, and invest in the future. The return on that investment pays dividends.

Here is a video of Dan’s scouting history and other memories:

Here is a video of Nick’s scouting history:

Here are both of my boy’s speeches during Nick’s Eagle ceremony in August of 2013.

I finish up this post with some final comments which is why I had to write this blog entry now, even though some of the things I recalled happened many years ago.

Recently, on October 10th of 2013, our troop lost one of our scouts, Brent. I remember Brent when he crossed over and all of the trips we went on with my boys as well. He was that unbridled youth that was living the dream. He always had a smile on his face, had more energy than you can imagine but best of all, was a dear friend and a genuinely great person. He was 20 years old and passed away at the beginning of his life, but doing what he wanted and touching lives. While me and my family are definitely saddened by the loss, I am grateful to have known him, spent the time mentoring him and getting to know him. Take care Brent. I am sure we will see you again some day on the ultimate hike to the heavens.

That is what scouting is about. Touching lives, making friends and memories, and investing in the future of these kids. It’s not about us, but about giving back and giving them hope of the future by letting them learn from your past.

After all I truly believe that this is the Ultimate Return on My Investment.

The Alternative is to Cry…

People not dealing with Alzheimer’s patients may actually misunderstand what I am saying here.  My intent is not to offend but to put in perspective the quality of life that we are trying to have with my mom who is suffering from this horrible disease.  We try to make light of this already difficult situation and keep things in perspective.  We have her here with us and are able to share quality moments with her.

Mom’s disease is getting worse and is at the point where she does not recognize my son, my nephew and at times, even confuses my sisters with my wife or thinks that I actually live with them.  She cannot remember where I live, and when she comes to visit my house with my dad, she is genuinely surprised at my house.  So sad considering that she actually lived there for a bit. 

In any event, recently, my mom spent the Saturday stressing out about what she was going to wear for church the next day.  She walked into the closet and took our her clothes, to try them.  She would put them on the bed and one of us would go back and put them back in the closet.  She did this several times throughout the day, and did it every time one of my sisters or I would show up.  She would say “I have to take out what I am going to wear for Church tomorrow”.  She probably did this at least 6-8 times throughout that day and did this so much that my dad was pretty fed up about how many times he went to the closet with her to pick out her clothes.

The next day, I was sitting in the church parking lot, as I usually do, waiting for them to arrive.  I can see them turn the corner into the parking lot and I stepped out of my car to open her car door.  When I saw her, she had this very frustrating look on her face.  I asked her what was wrong, and she replied, “Your father forced me to come to church!”.

I usually go to my parents anywhere from 3-4 times a week, if not more.  During one of my visits, I walked in as I usually do and noticed that she was in a very bad mood.  Dad is sitting in his recliner watching a baseball game like he normally does, and mom was at the end of the couch just looking straight out and not at my dad.  Usually, when I show up, both of my parents stand up to give me a hug and a kiss.  This time Dad stood up as usual but mom slowly got up and really did not look at me but kissed me.  I noticed something was wrong and asked her.  We both sat down and she is sitting to the right of me, and my Dad is to the left.  She looked past my body at Dad and complained how mean he was with her. 

I tried to make light of it and said “Oh oh, are you two fighting?  Let me know so I can leave cause I am not getting in the middle of this.” Of course I was kidding and smiled when I said it but she did not laugh.  I continued to press to see what was wrong and Dad jumped in and said that he had washed and dried her pants that we bought her recently (another story for another day) and they were putting them back in her closet when she took them and asked Dad if they were his. Dad replied in his usual sarcastic self, “Angela, you know they won’t fit me because they are too small!”. But she did not like the way he responded. Apparently she then proceeded to try to put them in his closet.  This does not sound like much but the pants routine has came up several times.

At this point, she blurted “You don’t have to be so mean to me!”.   Honestly, I have not seen mom this angry in years. She got up to throw something away and took a mean look at dad sitting in his chair, and then at me, and then walked away.  I got up and went to the kitchen and then she continued to complain.  She was stuck in a rut and would not get out of this mode no matter what I did or said, so I decided to get her out of the house.  We went to the bedroom so I can put on some socks on her and her shoes and she sat on the bed and started crying.  She said to me, “You know Ralphie, if he wants those pants, he can have them.  I have four and that is ok”.  I told her that Dad does not need those pants and that we bought them for her. She obviously was stuck and could not think of anything else.

As we started to leave the house, she walked up to dad, sitting in his chair, and asked for permission to go with me (I don’t know why she feels she needs to do this but she clearly is becoming much more dependent on him as the disease progresses.  Almost like if she is his child).   At this point, dad, again being who he is says:  “You are going to leave me?” and starts to laugh.  She starts crying again, says I am sorry as she touches his face feeling guilt.  At this point, I turn to Dad and say “Seriously Dad?  Do you have to say that?”.

I grabbed mom by the arm, and walked her out to my car to distract her by taking her to my house and then my sister’s.  When she came back that evening, everything was well and all was forgotten.  Both figuratively and literally.

I did have a separate conversation with him and remind him that she needs to be treated like a delicate flower with petals that could fall if manhandled.  He changed his behavior and the next day went back to the closet every time she wanted to, to see the pants that she has and make sure they were all there. He even caught her putting them on, but in the closet it self where there is no room to change at all.  He helped her and told me he did this at least half a dozen times that day.

There is no doubt that this is painful for dad having to be the primary caregiver to mom.  I understand this and we need to do more to help him deal with this, as well as give them some space so they can heal and reduce the tension. 

My son Nick did a video for a senior project on the effect that Alzheimer’s has on everybody else. It is painful to watch but we have to focus on the bigger picture.  She is with us still and we have to be grateful for that.  Yes, we laugh at some of these moments because the alternative is to cry.

Happy Father’s Day!

Today is Father’s day, June 19, 2011. I am sure that this same scene is actually being played out throughout the country. It seems like every year, there is this concerted effort to make sure that Dad is pleased and that the focus is on Dad. I love this. It is great to feel appreciated for all of the hard work that goes into being the “the bad guy” at home. The person that not only defines the rules of the house, but the one who is also responsible for making sure that they are followed. Please don’t misunderstand my comments. In our house, my wife and I, see eye to eye on everything, including how to raise the kids. I clearly did not define all of the rules.

It’s kind of like the memories I had of when I was growing up. I recall my mom saying things like “I’m going to tell your father!” every time we did something that she did not approve of. The same thing sort of happens here at my house. My wife can definitely keep things in line, after all, I follow her rules all of the time as well. But throughout the year, when the requests for certain things go beyond the comfort level, Dad is the one that has to decide that they cannot get the thing they want. That they should not be allowed to go out or stay up past a certain time. That it is “up to your father” to determine if he is going to be your cool friend or the guy that makes sure you have no fun.

So this year, just like every year on Father’s day, my wife makes it an effort to make sure that my boys show their appreciation by getting up early to make me breakfast. They got up at 6AM to start preparing eggs, bacon, coffee, pouring the orange juice, setting the table, wrapping the gift and writing the cards. Normally on a Sunday morning, I get up about 7AM, to get Nick up so that he can get ready to go to church. He plays his guitar in the choir and has to be there around 8-8:15AM. So I get up, fight with him to make sure he gets up, and we are out of the door as quickly as possible.

This morning Luisa woke up the kids and left me sleeping in bed. After all, it’s Father’s day. Let him sleep!

At 6:45, Dan puts his hand on my shoulder to wake me up for breakfast. It immediately reminded me of when he used to come into my bedroom at the middle of the night, cause he had to go to the bathroom and somehow could not see it, as he passed by it, on the way to my room. As I come down the stairs, I get the strong whiff of the bacon, which as it turns out, was prepared by my wife.

She blurts out, “Happy Father’s day honey!”, “We let you sleep!”. To which my response was, “hon, I normally get up at 7AM on Sundays.” “Oh.” she responded.

I sat down, had my breakfast with everybody after Dan said Grace, and then opened my cards and gift. It was great and very much appreciated and very delicious.

They scramble to get ready for church, with one last commandment from Luisa, “Nick go get the newspaper for Dad”. Something I normally do myself on a regular Sunday morning.

We take off to go to church and when we come back, the boys have had this plan, all along, to either take me fishing or to go for a walk on this new trail down in Greenville.

When we get back, Dan asks, “OK Dad, what do you want to do?”. Honestly, both of those sounded great, but so did just staying home, to relax. I’ve had some long weeks at work and that sounds great as well. But, it’s father’s day. We need to do what Dad likes to do, and both of those things are his favorite things to do.

So we head downtown, about 11:30am, and take a hike that is about 2 miles long each way. It’s hot, but flat and a really nice walk. However, I am beat.

This is what I looked like at the end of my hike.

They of course, looked nothing like that.

Here is the Map of where we went. Back and forth, by the way.

View Fathers Day Hike Swamp Rabbit Trail in a larger map 

On our way back to the car, the boys start tell me that they are hungry. Immediately I ask, “Hungry? What do you want to do, go out for lunch? What about mom?” To which I get, “Dad, It’s father’s day. We are your sons and Mom is not.” “We are the ones that should go out with you.” So much for them preparing lunch for me on Father’s Day…

So we head out to get some sushi and rice bowls. But I don’t feel good about going out with Luisa, so we decided on some smoothies.

We get home, and I am just exhausted. Wanting to just go to sleep. As I write this, everybody else is sleeping taking a nap, because of all of the effort put into “Father’s Day”.

Funny thing, is that for Mother’s day, when I ask Luisa what she wants, it is the same thing. Give me some time alone. I don’t want to see anybody or do anything. I need “a break”. Understandable considering that she is with them all of the time. BTW, did I mention I am exhausted?

All kidding aside, being a father is not something that should require thanks. It is an honor, and something that you should do as a selfless act, to help children grow up understanding the values you can instill in them. Such as being a dedicated husband, a great friend, a dedicated worker, an honest person with strong character, will and determination to do what is right in this world. Someone you can have fun with, create special memories and learn from. Someone your children can turn to in times of despair and need. Someone who inspires the best in you, to make them proud. Someone who is there for more than just providing shelter and food. I am a Father, for those reasons and many more. And for that, I am grateful, thankful and blessed to be a father.

Happy Father’s Day to all of the fathers who have truly figured out the reasons for this day.

All you need is a chair for an office

This post is for everybody who says traveling is fun and they wished they could travel. I’ve been on the road for 3 weeks now, after my company announced a new product. For two back to back weeks, I was in FL attending a tradeshow and a sales conference. While I was there, I received a call from someone at the company we are working with, asking if I would be interested in presenting our new solution to the senior execs and their marketing organization.

I jumped at this opportunity to get more exposure for this new solution. So I fly up to NJ without really knowing what to expect. Once I landed I was immediately asked to participate on a conference call. That lasted for 1.5 hours. Luckily I was able to check into my hotel as soon as I got here pretty early and get all set up.

I rush over to the other hotel where the conference was going to be held and meet up with the person that asked me to come. I see 8 other “partners” of this company setting up their booths with big time canvas backdrops and the like. I look and have a monitor for me to plug in my laptop and then say to myself, “oh boy. We need something quick". So I left about an hour later after picking my spot and head over to Kinkos to get some banners and flyers printed.

After about 2 hours, now about 5:30pm, I pick up my “collateral” and head over to a pizza joint to get some slices of NJ pizza.

I go back to my hotel room and work for the next 4.5 hours, finally crashing about 11:30pm.

I wake up the next morning about 7AM and start getting emails, getting ready for breakfast and then head out about 10AM for the event. I have to set up all of this “stuff” and have 30 minutes to do so. " (Note: it was two display stands with my brochures, a 6”h x 24”w banner that I place under the TV, and my devices. 10 minutes flat A Guinness world record.

After about 2 hours of non-stop talking with what felt were a ton of people, I tear down my booth. Again, another speed record. 5 minutes flat. Quick – Call Guinness I tell you!

Right about that time, I get a call from US Airways that my connecting flight was cancelled due to a storm in the area, and that my 1st flight was delayed by an hour. My original flight was at 5:30 and it was pushed to 6:30. I take my time, make a few phone calls and then head to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I also go and stop for gas on the rental since I have soooo much time.

I check in, go through security, and board my plane. We wait about 30 minutes and the pilots start to buzz the flight attendants to inform them of something. I say to myself “uh oh. this can’t be good.”

Sur enough it was not. The flight was cancelled and we are taken off of the plane. They tell us that US Airways has 2, I repeat, 2 agents rebooking flights for people. I get on the phone right way, “cause I am a world traveller you know”, and call US Airways. They tell me that the next available flight was a 5:00AM the next morning.

At this point I pull my computer and rent another car. It is 7:30pm and I have a 5AM flight. I have no intention of checking into a hotel and oversleeping or sleeping at the airport. So I rent a car and go visit some family about 45 minutes away. It’s raining cats and dogs. I knew something was not going to be good when they announced on the TV this morning that the governor had already declared it a state of emergency. Wow.

I go and have a great visit with my family, reminiscing of the old times, and finding out more information on my grandparents and other relatives. I head back around 11:30 and get to the airport at exactly 12:30am. I look for a great place to plug in and charge my PC, my router, and my phone.

So here I am. It is 1:30AM and I am “working” in my new found office at the airport. You see, I am a world traveller and all I need is a chair for an office