The Joy of Cross-Country Skiing

For those of you living in warmer climates, the snows of recent weeks have been a blessing to all who like snow sports, especially downhill skiing. Downhill or alpine skiers are the ones who take a lift to the top of a mountain, so they can head downhill in a variety of twists and turns to the bottom of the mountain. Each path or run is color coded to indicate level of difficulty. The Green Circle is the easiest; next is the difficult and demanding Blue Square; this is followed by the Black Diamond for advanced skiers and, finally, the Double Black Diamond, reserved for experts and those who've had three too many eggnog rum punches. The runs are classified based on the steepness of the slope and condition of the trail. Most downhill skiers start as I did, on the green "bunny slopes" and progress through the colors. The lure of downhill skiing is found in the rush one experiences as he or she glides effortlessly across the surface of the snow, surrounded by the stillness of the mountain and the beauty of the snow-covered countryside. The exhilaration of surviving the occasional tumble also adds to the lure of the sport.

Don't get me wrong, while I like the rush of wind on my face as I schuss downhill at speeds that would snap many a bone if I took a tumble, I have recently found a real interest in cross-country skiing. Admittedly, sliding one's feet back and forth inside two tracks doesn't sound very appealing, but there is more to it than that, and much which I thoroughly enjoy.

I like quietly gliding up on unsuspecting wildlife, catching them by surprise.

I enjoy letting my mind wander, without having to pay attention where I'm headed.

I relish the burn in my muscles, as they work to keep me headed forward.

I rejoice in the small victories, as I ascend an incline and then glide down the other side.

I take in the thin briskness of the open air, as I push forward to the chimney smoke rising in the distance from my cabin.

And then there's the end of the trail, when I can relax by the fire, watching the sun burn out, and knowing that for a little while I experienced something this continent's early Americans must have felt, as they too carved their way through the wooded reaches of our northern frontier.

Sure, summer is always fun, but winter, up in the mountains, is another world altogether. May your slopes be covered in powder as spring closes in. Happy skiing!

Decisions

Someone once said we make more than 5,000 decisions a day. Now before you decide to disagree, think about all the mundane choices you make every morning -- sometimes before you even get out of bed: yes or no to the snooze bar, cereal or bagel for breakfast, caffeine or decaf, milk or orange juice, two percent or skim, local morning news or The Weather Channel. Now add to this a series of decisions on what to wear, and you've got a couple dozen decisions knocked out before you even leave the house.

All through the day decisions present themselves to us, demanding resolution. Each decision made carries a corresponding consequence. Sometimes our professional occupation can determine how serious these consequences can be. Take the auto mechanic, for example. His decisions on taking the extra time to do his job right can make a difference in the safety of those who entrust their car to him. Then there's the surgeon whose continual pursuit of learning offers new hope to her patients by bringing them the latest health options for their condition. On the other hand, sometimes the decisions we make are more mundane -- but not without their own special consequences. Think about, for instance, how a spicy Mexican or Indian dish can wreak havoc on the stomach later on. We regretted that one but, boy, did it taste good going down!

Most of us feel better if we have someone else to consult when making significant decisions. I know I do. For example, in my house I make all the big decisions, and I leave the small ones to my wife. I make mine based on the latest U.N. resolutions, a close-reading of The Old Farmer's Almanac, and a daily review of how the markets are doing, from Beijing to Wall Street. She decides on things like our budget, raising the kids, and what's for dinner, consulting (now get this!) her own intuition and impeccably good sense.

As for the kids, they have their own take on how the decision process goes. They learn early how to pit parent against parent, as they ask for permission to spend the night at a friend's house or delay a curfew. A "no!" from dad means a "why not?" to mom, banking on the hope mom won't consult dad on the matter. It's important for parents to work out a system to prevent this sort of circular negotiating. To fend this off, I simply ask, "What did your mother say?" When I see them hem and haw, I already know what their mother said.

Sometimes we make decisions in haste without thinking through all of the ramifications too. It is these decisions that can sometimes lead to future regrets. Hence it is always best to take a little time and weigh life's most important decisions. A good example of decision deliberation was my wife's review of the pros and cons of marrying me. Her careful consideration of my proposal bore all the trademarks of a general on the brink of a major campaign. She knew there would skirmishes, battles won as well as battles lost. She knew there would possibly even be some treaties along the way, but she believed the effort was worth it, so much so she committed all her resources to the operation.

When she said, "yes," I knew just how good a decision-maker she was, and smart too.

Changes

There is an old adage that goes this way: "The only people who like change are wet babies." True as that may be, I believe all of us welcome change to some degree. Permit me to explain: those of us who happen to be driving an older car with high mileage would welcome the chance to drive a newer car with lower mileage. Those of us who shelved dreams as we became adults (art, travel, music, sports, drama) might give a lot to recapture some of those pursuits in earnest now. For some of us, a change, a permanent change, from the jobs (and the pay) that mark our lives as moderately, but not wildly, successful, would be a pleasant surprise. And then there are some of us who would embrace a change of the most basic sort: a new body -- one that's not fallen prey to overeating, under-exercising, and the deceptive lure of the television set.

I make the case it is not change we rebel against; rather, it is the way change occurs. A change thrust upon us without any input is bound to generate some real pushback. Just think back to when you determined your child's bedtime. You dictated to him or her that 8 p.m. was bedtime, and there was likely zero discussion. Your child resisted because they had no input. They resisted, but they lost.

A change in something seen as traditional will probably meet resistance too. Just think about the reception you'd receive if, instead of the time-honored Thanksgiving turkey with all the trimmings, your family would sate their howling appetites with grilled hot dogs and beans. The family may like grilled hot dogs and beans, but you changed a tradition that was important to the family, and that was a no-no.

Men, we face changes in our lives every day. Our children grow. Our job duties fluctuate. Our health declines. Our buddies die. The man who can deal with life's changes in a reasonable way will have a considerable advantage over the man who can't.

When I think of it, I may not have wanted my young son to leave that August day for first grade; I may not have wanted my daughter to spend the night away from home on her first sleepover, but looking back, there really is no other way for life to move forward. It's called change and because of it we're the family we are today.

Maybe here, once again, we can learn something from our ancient brethren across the pond, the Greeks. It was Heraclitus who is said to have said, "Nothing endures but change."

So as you can see, it's all good. Just be sure to enjoy it while you can, tomorrow it may change.

Regrets

If I asked if you had any regrets you might recall an instance of too many libations, words spoken in anger to a loved one, a less-than-inspired performance on the job, or any combination thereof. For a good many of us our teenage years are when momentary lapses in common sense and sound judgment led to events that have stayed with us for the rest of our lives.

The things we do that lead to regret are often a mixed bag. How about the thrill of flying down the open road coupled with the regret of getting a speeding ticket? The regret was magnified tenfold when we faced dad or mom, as they opened up the next car insurance bill. To be sure, we wrestled with the consequences of our actions, at least until another dumb challenge found us gunning it through an intersection once the light turned green.


Some of us carry regrets linked to drinking. We didn't start out trying to get blind, falling-down drunk, but we got there soon enough. And what about that peculiar mental state when we felt bionic, indestructible and possessed of exceptionally good looks? You know, ten feet tall, bullet-proof, and God's gift to the ladies. For a time, in our minds at least, we were all these things. To those around us, however, we were somehow less than suave, debonair and entirely charming. This hit home when we were reminded by those true friends we had who wondered if we really intended to make a consistent fool of ourselves.

Regret is characterized by feelings of sadness, repentance or disappointment over something that has happened or been done. For me there was one regret I had that went far beyond mere feelings; it manifested itself as a dark shadow hanging over me. It was something I kept hidden, something I never told others, for fear to speak it would bring condemnation.

Perhaps you too have such a regret -- something you lug round that rises to the surface at inopportune times -- like at three in the morning when sleep eludes you.

There came a time in my life when I had to face down my regret. I spoke it aloud to a friend, putting it out there. To my surprise I wasn't condemned or even banished for my longstanding offense. In fact, the man I spoke my regret to found it interesting I even regretted that specific deed. He told me what I did was nothing to regret. In fact, he had done the same thing.

Was that ever a freeing revelation!

I have found that since that discussion I no longer spring awake at three in the morning with feelings of sadness, repentance or disappointment.

Instead, now at three in the morning all I'm doing is keeping my wife up with my snoring. Perhaps there will come a time when I regret that.

But not yet.

The Adventure

When I was dating my wife I decided I wanted to impress her, so I made reservations at the best restaurant in town. Not being from the area, I went online to investigate the comments, ratings and recommendations made about this establishment. After so doing, I was confident I had made the right decision. Calling for reservations seemed to confirm my pick, as it was nearly impossible to find a time I could reserve a table for two. I had the lady write my reservation down, securing the most romantic table in the place.

It was only after I had made the reservation that I remembered to see if she was even available that day. Well, as luck would have it, she was. I told her we were going to dinner, and she should dress up. As for the destination, that would be a surprise.

When the day came for the big date, I washed and vacuumed the car, picked up my suit from the cleaners, and spit polished my shoes. I was feeling a little bit like James Bond heading to the casino, when I pulled up in front of her building.

She looked stunning as she met me. I did manage to tell her that -- always a good thing.

I opened her car door, and we headed to the restaurant.

Or so I thought.

As it had been awhile since making the reservation, and because I didn't look at the map before I left, I totally forgot how to get there. I knew the general direction and some key landmarks, but that was about it.

In other words, I was lost.

When we passed the same intersection the third time, she asked where we were headed. Being a man on a mission, I was not going to admit we were lost, so I told her we were on an "adventure."

Well, we did make the dinner reservations; she was impressed, and she eventually became my wife.

Since then, we have had many big adventures. Sometimes they start with a wrong turn and a fresh discovery along the road. Sometimes they begin when I turn the controls over to her, and I just go along for the ride. Yes, many a serendipitous discovery has resulted from our adventures.

The best part of the adventure is the time we spend together -- talking, laughing, learning more about each other. As we do this, we find out just how good a partner each of us is for the other.

That has been our greatest discovery, knowing that wherever we are is where the adventure begins.

The rest of the story: She did buy me a GPS for a wedding present.

How to Redirect Feminine Ire (i.e. How to Stop Getting Nagged)

There was a man I once knew who had married a wonderful woman. That woman, however, for him had become, over time, an insufferable, nagging shrew. For this unfortunate gentleman there appeared to be no end to her persistent reminders of tasks unfinished, jobs forsaken or failed promises. More than once I marveled at the sandpaper texture of her voice, as she used it to knock the rough edges off the man ("cretin" was a word I heard once) she had married. Unsavory innuendos and harsh threats had become for her second nature, and she seemed to take special relish in pointing out this poor chap's every flaw to anyone within earshot. On more than one occasion, the miserable bloke confided to me the situation had grown intolerable, but he was at a total loss to know what to do to regain the sweet bride he had married.

So what caused this wonderful, sweet woman to turn into a God-awful shrew?

As the man was desperate to find some answers, we set about to determine the problem. There was for him most definitely a listening issue, and he was quick to admit it. When I asked him how their conversations went -- particularly when she was requesting something -- he had to confess his attentiveness was less than what it should be. He cited numerous examples where, in an effort to get her to the point, he would rush her along, glossing over most of what she said, eager to be free of this unwanted intrusion. The problem here (you can probably see it already) was that he half-heard most of what his wife was saying, mis-heard the rest, and soon forgot most all of it 15 minutes later.

Can I get an "Amen," brother?

Now if that dear, sweet woman in your life has some nagging tendencies (i.e. she's an overachiever when it comes to asking for something), there's a way to fix it. In fact, there is a guaranteed cure!

It will involve time and effort, but the rewards are worth the effort -- if you take the time -- that is.

It's really very simple. Here you go: listen closely, resist the urge to rebut on every other point, and check (better yet, slay) your ego at the door.

Listening involves a few easy steps:

1. Look at her. Maintain eye contact. Let nothing distract you. I repeat: let nothing distract you.
2. Do not judge, dismiss, belittle. Let her speak and finish what she has to say.
3. Restate what she says or asks. Be clear on what is being said or requested.
4. Follow through with what you said you would do.

Once you put your ego in check and you're listening, really listening, (i.e. not just giving her your best impersonation of listening), you may find what she had to say was, well, something worth listening to in the first place.

And, if not, at least with some practice, you'll only have to hear it once.

Valentine's Day - It's Not about You

In just a little more than two weeks we will be celebrating the early Christian saint named Valentinus -- aka Saint Valentine. For performing weddings for soldiers forbidden to marry and for ministering to Christians persecuted under the Roman Empire, this saint was imprisoned. During his captivity, he is said to have healed the daughter of his jailer, Asterius. Legend states that before his execution he wrote a farewell to her. It was called, "From Your Valentine."

Over the years this liturgical celebration has morphed into an occasion in which lovers express their love for each other by presenting flowers, chocolate and candy treats, and greeting cards -- all adorned with hearts, lace and sappy outpourings of love.

Now a lot of men I know believe in the supreme constancy of love, especially when it relates to their wives. For them there's no need to wear down the sentiment by continually rehashing the obvious. It's like, "Hey, I told you I loved you when we got married. If that changes, I'll let you know." While these smooth-talking dudes may woo some of the ladies out there, a brief survey of women indicates something else entirely. For them Valentine's Day is when she wants to be doted on, cherished, and doted on some more. And nothing says you cherish her more than a card and a gift.

Now the card thing is fairly easy: find a Hallmark store, walk in, and some lady will ask, "Can I help you?"

Tell her you need a nice Valentine for your wife, and she will show you racks of them. Find one that's so sweet it makes your teeth hurt. When you've done that it's probably a good pick. Hint: be sure it is addressed to "wife."

Now the gift thing may be a little tricky. I usually try to pay attention at Christmastime to see if she indicates something she didn't receive, then I get it for her on Valentine's Day. But if she didn't give any hints, then try the old standards: candy, perfume, flowers and candles (strategically positioned and lit is a nice touch too) are all pretty safe bets. One thing to remember here is if you don't usually get her flowers, then a nice bouquet is just the ticket: gift solved.

The sage advice I received recently was that Valentine's Day is not about me -- not even a little bit. So giving your woman a nice mallet putter or some new chartreuse crankbaits is probably not the absolute best idea. That being said, those two would rate with all the other suggestions I thought sounded good: box seats to a hockey game, a band saw, a flat-screen TV, a gas grill or the ever-popular subscription to a premium sports channel.

So, gentlemen, what we have here is another day to put her first, along with Mother's Day (if she qualifies) and her birthday. To show her she is unquestionably number one in your life, think about what would please her and then jump in with both feet (Hmmm, a skydiving lesson, perhaps? Probably not.) Believe me, do it up right, and you'll have one thankful woman on your hands. You may even find your thoughtfulness reciprocated to you in new and surprising ways.

And what's better than having your honey believe she's with the world's greatest guy?