We never were a loud family.  On the other hand, there wasn’t a lot of silence in the house, either.  I was the last of three siblings, so there was always some type of commotion or discussion carrying through the house.  But, no matter what was going on, my brother, sister and I honored one hour of silence under the penalty of death.  It was the news hour.  Whether it was at 5:00 on the television, of 5 before the hour in the car, we soon learned that noises should cease when the headlines began to roll.  I remember thinking, “Wow…this is horribly boring.  Why is it so important?”

On the way home yesterday, I was flipping channels and trying to find some decent music.  On the last part of the cycle through my pre-programmed channels I caught the last 15 seconds of the news.  I looked at the clock and with slight disappointment, I noticed that I had missed the headlines.  For some reason, the disappointment became evident to me.  Had I actually wanted to hear the news?  And, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I like to tune-in to the newscasts and hear the highlights of the day.  Wow.  When did I start turning into my dad?  Well, at least I don’t back into parking spaces like my dad does…wait…yeah, I do.  I know, I don’t get all excited about buying pants with the hidden elastic in the waist…wait…yeah, I do.  See, it’s not that being my dad is a bad thing, but I didn’t expect to wake-up and just realize that I was him.  I thought the transition would be more noticeable.

img00174Perhaps the one area that I don’t follow in my dad’s footsteps (yet) is with eating habits.  Although, I am appreciative of the love for food that he instilled in me.  As a matter of fact, he took me to my first Mexican Buffet.  It was the same day that he introduced me to Northern Tools. (Let’s pause for a moment of silent reflection…)  At any rate, while we were at my parents’ house a few weekends ago, I marveled as my dad fixed his breakfast.  Cereal with milk.  And blueberries, strawberries, and bananas.  And then some type of yogurt-like stuff on top.  This doesn’t rival the time I saw him top his Fiber One with salsa.  Now that is the breakfast of champions.  The man’s motto when it comes to eating is “It all goes down the same hatch, anyhow.”  I appreciate the man’s ability to eat, but I lack the cast-iron coating in my stomach to follow in his footsteps.

It is interesting to look at where I am and discover which traits I’ve intentionally picked-up (the ability to keep a yard green) and which ones have snuck in over time (see: newscasts).  Similarly, there are some traits that I’ve intentionally culled out.  (Such as the desire/ability to drive long distances with the family in the car.  That one was the first to go.)  I recognize the formation of who I am both because of how I was raised and in spite of how I was raised.  This applies to my relationship with my children, political views, religious views, musical tastes and all across the spectrum.  I am me.

A wise person would be able to take these thoughts and bring them to a really cool, coherent point.  I think that’s one of the traits that I let pass me by.