No Worries

Sitting at the Outback Steakhouse with a good friend the other night we heard the waiter comment, "No worries," when asked if a customer could have her salad dressing on the side. Now I know what the phrase "on the side" refers to but, "no worries"?

A quick Internet search yielded the factoid that "no worries" is an Australian-English expression. It means "do not worry about that," "that's all right," or "sure thing." The phrase is widely used in Australian speech and represents a feeling of friendliness, good humor, optimism and "mateship" in Australian culture. The phrase has been referred to as the national motto of Australia.

But I do worry.

In fact I spent most of the previous night worrying about how I would get a file I needed. I was out of town and left it at the office. I spent quality, sleeping time, lying awake as I worried about how to get the file.

At the table my friend suggested I simply call the office and have someone e-mail the file to me. That sure sounded reasonable. I did, they did, and three minutes later the problem was solved. I had the file.

So why do I worry?

Psychologists have written books on the topic, and ministers have preached sermons addressing it. About it, mothers have consoled, fathers have rationalized, and friends have commiserated. It's a worldwide phenomenon crossing all cultures and races. It plagues the young and the old, male and female, and shows no discrimination. For me, I think it boils down to the fact that I don't want to not be in control.

Sound familiar?

Guys, maybe we can learn a lesson from my sleepless night. Sometimes we just need to recognize we aren't always the ones in control. (In fact, truth be told most times we aren't the ones in control.) I would have done much better to shelve the problem and tackle it in the morning, when I could do something about it. Lesson learned: maybe it's okay to just accept the things we can't control.

It takes practice, but it can be done. It might even take adopting a sign from our surfer buddies out west. The next time you feel uptight about something, consider our Hawaiian friends, especially if your problem feels like you're facing a wall of water four stories high.

The sign's called the "shaka." It means "hang loose!"

Try it.

Things to Know

One of my favorite shows on television is Storage Wars. What I like best are the bidding battles. Having bid at more than a few auctions myself, I feel my adrenaline spike as my favorite bidder barks out his bids, hits his limit, and then -- a moment later -- is out of the bid altogether.

I have felt his angst. I know the feeling of being outbid when I've hit my limit. It was then I faced a split-second decision: do I go one more in the hope the other person drops out, or do I fold?

On one occasion my split-second decision to bid once more was rewarded with the purchase of a 1960's model Coca Cola bottle vending machine. On the other hand, there was the time I lost a chance for a 1920's era Coke cooler for want of a $5 bid.

It's important we know when to fold -- whether in auctions or in card games.

While I'm on the subject of things worth knowing, something else I've found useful to know is how to start a campfire. Now here I'm not referring to the knife on the belt buckle technique. Rather, I'm talking about the simple method of laying in the kindling, when to add the sticks, and how to stack the logs for a decent fire that will last throughout the evening.

I have found too that knowing how to iron a shirt has been extremely helpful, especially when applying for a job or impressing a date. It's also good to know how to finish off the ensemble by understanding how to polish dress shoes, tie a tie, and select a nice set of suitable cufflinks for the shirt.

When I was single it was important to know how to give a thoughtful gift to the girl I was wooing. To do this, I would take her to the mall and see what interested her -- what her likes and dislikes were. Once she commented or otherwise indicated how a certain piece of jewelry would look good with one of her favorite outfits, I was good to go. That Christmas she got the aforementioned item, and I impressed her.

My mom didn't raise no dummy.

In like manner, there are bits of wisdom and a few skills that have been imparted to me by other guys. These gems include knowing how to change the oil in my car, when to apply lawn fertilizer, how to create a beef brisket rub, and when to keep quiet.

But perhaps the best advice I received has been this: "Know a little about many subjects." This has come in handy many times over the years, especially when beginning a conversation with someone I've just met. And what's more, some of these conversations have led to friendships that have lasted years.

Well, what do you know?

Cherish the Day

Awhile back I received news that two of my very best friends were involved in a fatal car accident. They were travelling to a doctor's appointment and were struck by a truck. At that moment they were called home to heaven, leaving behind a family who had to face life without their parents. The shock from the news still echoes in my mind.

As I was standing next to the grave I recalled the conversation we had the night before the accident. My wife and I were planning a "double date" to the Caribbean with our friends, and together we had started discussing which islands we would like to visit. We had also begun making arrangements for the following year.

As I was standing there, numb at the loss of these two dear people, I thought how each of them lived every day to the fullest. They would find creative ways to celebrate life's many events, making the most of their time together, cherishing each other's company. They were a couple that showed me the best side of a marriage.

As we were playing cards one evening we hit upon a question that resonated with each of us: "What if you were called home tonight?" One thing led to another, and my friends shared how they had their wills prepared, insurance policies paid and up to date, and provisions made for their property.

To their pre-planning and foresight, I added, "But we should also cherish each day for we do not know when we will be called home."

At this they smiled and replied, "We do."

Guys, I would encourage you to cherish your loved ones, your co-workers, your deeds, and your words. Cherish those who share life with you. Set aside a few minutes -- and do it frequently -- to dwell on those people -- spouses, kids, siblings, friends -- who make up your world. There's no guarantee they will be here tomorrow ... or even this afternoon, for that matter.

I would also add to be prepared with your final arrangements.

My friends had a strong faith in Jesus as their Savor. They knew they were saved by grace through faith, and they lived in this world confident of the next, trusting in the Father's gift of heaven. What's more, my friends passed on that knowledge to their family and friends, who now, though their loved ones are gone, take great comfort in the lives of faith they lived.

Cherish the day.

Dads and Daughters: a Few Guidelines

I have a daughter. She captured my heart the day she was born, and I'm sure she's got it for good. The other day she started a sentence with, "Daddy, I love you." (Only she said it dragging out the "dy" in daddy and really drawing out the "love" part.) I sensed there would be a request after that and was not disappointed. I really wanted to say "no," but in the end she negotiated a "yes" out of me.

There is a special bond between a dad and his daughter, just as there is something special between a mom and her son. Most of the time the daughter doesn't trade on this bond, but once in awhile we dads get the whole "But daaaaddddyyy, I really looooooove you" pitch. Then and there we know this could be trouble.

I recently came across "50 Rules for Dads of Daughters" by Michael Mitchell. I pass along a few here that are especially helpful to me:

1. "Love her mom. Treat her mother with respect, honor, and a big heaping spoonful of public displays of affection. When she grows up, the odds are good she'll fall in love with and marry someone who treats her much like you treated her mother. Good or bad, that's just the way it is. I'd prefer good."

2. "Always be there. ... She needs her dad to be involved in her life at every stage." In other words, don't just watch from the sidelines while her life goes rushing by; help add life to her years.

3. "Pray for her. Regularly. Passionately. Continually."

4. "It's never too early to start teaching her about money. She will still probably suck you dry as a teenager ... and on her wedding day."

5. "Dance with her. Start when she's a little girl or even when she's a baby. Don't wait until her wedding day."

6. "Teach her to change a flat. A tire without air need not be a major panic-inducing event in her life. She'll still call you crying the first time it happens."

And then there's my personal favorite: "Learn to say no. She may pitch a fit today, but someday you'll both be glad you stuck to your guns."

Now if I could only figure out how to say "no" without the tears, I would be a happy man.

You can read more of Mitchell's rules on the web.

The Almost Accident

So I was driving to work the other day. It was a great drive in; the traffic was light; I hit every light green, and the radio played all my favorite songs. It was as if the entire world was revolving around moi, making every effort to please me.

I was coming up to the intersection where I turn left. As I did, the light turned green, and I was slowing up, making my turn. Just then I heard the blare of a horn and the sound of rubber gripping the road. I looked up to see a very large, black pick-up trying desperately not to hit me.

Evidently, in my hypnotic state of reverie I failed to notice my left-turn arrow had changed to a full green light. When this happens, approaching traffic has the right of way. (Just in case you didn't know that.)

Fortunately, the truck stopped -- came to a screeching halt, actually. I sped up, and we both had an I-almost-had-an-accident story to tell around the dinner table: he blaming me and me blaming me.

I almost had an accident because I was thinking about all the things I needed to take care of at work, home, and with the family. I took time later that day to write down everything I absolutely needed to accomplish. Beyond that, I let go of all the other worries as they raced through the windows of my mind.

The drive home after work was less eventful, for all I had to think about was dinner. Since I like almost anything I don't have to make, and because the wife was cooking, life was good.

Guys, sometimes we need a reality check that prompts us to let go of the clutter in our heads. We need to be alert. That's why this coming Labor Day is so important. Put away the to-do list and concentrate on resting, relaxing and reconnecting with your family and friends.

After all, you've still got four months before 2013 is history.

Happy Labor Day rest to you!

The Boring Drive

The other day I was reading an article about our brains. It said our brains get high on participation. It further explained that when our brains are engaged and we experience pleasure, the brain releases a neurotransmitter called dopamine. Dopamine gives us a pleasurable feeling, so the brain is always looking for ways to create more. Thus when we are actively engaged in activities the brain has a better opportunity to produce dopamine, than if we are passive.

As I sat back and reflected on the article, I discovered why I do not look forward to the solo drive from St. Louis to Chicago, for there is little change in scenery, few obstacles to overcome, and it's an almost straight shot. (Now not to pick on the great State of Illinois, I have experienced similar boring routes in Texas, Montana, Iowa, Indiana, Wyoming, Arizona, Michigan, and a few others.)

Now some will argue the radio, CD or iPod can keep the brain engaged while driving solo. Still, I found that on especially long trips, I tire of sad country songs, too much of the blues, the beat of pop, and the pounding of rap. I once tried jazz and almost ran off the road. A book on tape isn't too bad, as long as I can finish it before I arrive. However, I am not the best at picking up a story line once it's been side aside for a while.

What I have discovered works for me is prayer. Now before you stop reading, let me explain.

Whenever I pass one of those green highway signs that announce a town, etc. I think of a family member. For example, I may pass the sign that says, "Highway 50, Exit 1 Mile," and I recall my wife. I remember her laughter, her voice, her beauty, and so forth. Then I say a prayer for her. I recall her until I pass another sign; then I think of some other family member and say a prayer.

If I run out of family members I recall the bosses I have had and say a prayer for them. Then it's politicians, world leaders, people who have yelled at me, and so on. I say a prayer for each of them.

I usually arrive at my destination relaxed, with a brain full of dopamine.

On the other hand, I also find that beef jerky and Mountain Dew help take my mind off of long, lonely stretches of highway, even as they energize me for the road ahead.

Tying it all together has me praying in between gulps of Mountain Dew as I'm shredding a strip of rawhide jerky.

What a way to go!

The View from 25,000 Feet

The other day I was flying across the country from St. Louis to Paducah to Baltimore to Detroit. The day was cloudless along the entire route, providing a clear view of the landscape. I was struck by the physical features below me, looking remarkably similar to the physical maps my teacher used in class. I was able to identify streams, mountain chains, forests and, of course, an ocean. The colors of the topography did resemble my grandmother's patch quilt.

Interspersed among the natural features were interstate highways, farm fields, electrical lines, and the occasional clustering of buildings, making up a city or town. The manmade features crisscrossed over, around and through the natural features, adding interest to the visual effect.

From 25,000 feet there was one thing I was not able to discern, however: individuals. I could pick out an occasional truck or car along the highway and, sometimes even a structure, but I could not see any people.

I started to ponder the concept that the things people do often last longer than the individuals who do them. For example, the highways I saw were built by people I didn't know. The buildings I saw were constructed by individuals I never met. The squares of farmland were plowed and managed by farmers I'll never know.

That got me thinking about my life. How will what I build -- my family, my reputation, my relationships, and my influence -- last beyond me?

Will the next generation be able to see how I impacted the world without ever meeting me?

I would like to think they will.