The Goo

 The Goo, the goo whatever will we do

If you're not careful it will get you too

It's green, it's ugly, it likes to eat

It eats everything even your feet

Please don't get it on your shoe

That goo will turn your shoe to poo.

One day it escaped from the laboratory

That was almost the end of the story

But it lived and it grew that horrible goo.

Before you knew it, it was chasing you.

Leave me alone you awful goo,

I don't want anything to do with you.

But the Goo don't care, it eats what it likes.

Even little kids along with their bikes.

One day the goo was extremely hungry.

So it ate the New York turnpike glumly.

When it was finished it said to itself,

Now what I need is a darn good belch.

So you better be careful you better watch out.

Don't let the goo find you If you start to pout.

The goo has a weakness you see

It can't eat kids who are happy.

Talking to my preteen about money

  Your mom has told me a bit about your life now that you are 11 years old. I know it's a big change for you and for us too. We are proud of you and glad that you seem to be adjusting well to your surroundings.

  One thing I thought I'd talk to you about is money. I know they don't ever teach this in school. They will teach your math, which helps, but handling money is a big story. So I will try to help you out with some of the things I have learned about money.

There are people everywhere in the world who are very happy to cheat or con you. By that I mean they will lie, cheat, fool and trick you so they can get your money. It's their job, that's what they do to make a living. These awful people survive and feed off others; they don't care about you and will do whatever it takes in order to get your money. 

   You always have to be aware of this and have to tell yourself, I don't need this (whatever it is) today I can wait take and some time (the longer the better) to think it over. One of the biggest tools a con artist will use is your own greed. It's trite but true, if it sounds too good to be true it must be a lie.

   My parents did not have a lot of money. They had a lot of kids and I was the oldest. My dad worked two jobs; he was a city fireman and he had his own painting and rug cleaning business. My mother didn't work outside the home until she got a job as the cook for my grade school.

   School lunch then was not like Thailand, there was only one cafeteria and one cook and a couple of helpers. You could either bring your lunch or buy it at school. If you bought it it was cafeteria style which means you got a choice of things to eat but not a great selection. My point here is even though my parents worked very hard there was never enough money.

   When I was your age now I got my first job as a newspaper boy. I liked the idea of having a job because up to this time I never had any money. It was very rare that my parents would have spare change to give me.

   I had about 40 customers that lived in my neighborhood and I delivered newspapers to them everyday. I was recruited by a nice man who had lost one arm from the elbow down maybe in the war. He talked to my parents who were unsure at first but decided it would be good for me.

   In the afternoons after school I would go to a little shack in Broad Ripple and pick up my newspapers on my bicycle. I would have to pay cash for my newspapers. It would take me between an hour and a half to 2 hours to deliver the papers.

   At that time there was no internet, that didn't really get going until the 1990s. There were three TV channels and I remember they would go off the air around midnight and come back on about 6:00 a.m. Many people depended on newspapers to get in-depth information and detailed news along with a lot of other things you couldn't find any other place.

   For instance the classified ads provided a means to find a job, rent an apartment, buy furniture, find a used car and many many other things. You could find out what was playing in the movie theaters around town and what time they started. You could find out what was going to be on TV that day. You could get the sports scores along with the stories of what happened. High School and college sports were big news. Newspapers were very important when I was growing up.

   My favorite sections were the comics, the sports sections, most of the news headlines and Dear Abby. I read the entire paper everyday which means I turned and looked at every page while not necessarily reading all the stories just the ones that I enjoyed. You could find stories about people you knew or knew of and that was always of interest to people because they were local.

   Dear Abby was an advice column. People would write into the newspaper and describe some problem they had and Dear Abby would print their problem and some answer to how to fix it. This was one of my favorites and I think it was for many people.

   One of the worst things about the paper route was getting money from my customers. I would try to go about dinner time and knock on their door. Sometimes you had to knock a lot. Finally when they came they'd have to look around for the $0.40 for that week or whatever they owed me.

   They paper gave me a book with one page for each customer. When they paid me for that week I would tear off a little tab and give it to them as a receipt. This way we both kept track of how much was owed and paid.

   I think the paper cost about 7 cents for the daily, the Sunday was more because it was a much bigger paper. Some guys who delivered papers would save all their money, I hadn't learned about saving yet but they were the smart ones and generally had some specific thing for which they were saving. I wasn't too smart at age 11. I managed to pay for my papers but anything left over would go for candy, comic books, ice cream or soda pop. But I didn't spend more than I had and I think that's a secret of life.

   The weather where I grew up is much different than here in Thailand. We had four seasons, spring, summer, fall, winter. Winter was the worst because we got a lot of snow and my bicycle didn't work too well in the snow so I had to walk which took a lot more time and walking isn't easy in the snow either.

    This is a little bit about my first experience dealing with money and believe me you will deal with money all your life. If you deal well with money, your life will be a lot easier and I think also happier. If you don't handle money well, you are going to have problems.

   Here are a couple of tips to help you out. Don't spend more money than you have. In other words don't borrow money with a few very rare exceptions. The other side of the coin is don't lend money to your friends. This is a good way to lose friends because it's so easy for misunderstandings to happen.

   If you don't have money and you're not likely to get any soon, learn to do without or find something free instead of whatever you were going to spend your money on. Doing without isn't so hard once you get the hang of it.

Finding free stuff or doing free stuff can be a lot of fun. There are always ways to find alternatives to get what you want without money. You will really feel proud of yourself once you do this a couple of times.

   I wrote a lot more than I planned to but I guess that's okay. I think parents always like to help their kids by giving them the benefit of their experience. So that's why I thought I'd try writing to you. I hope you can learn from my experience. Unfortunately many of us only learn by trial and error so we make a lot of mistakes. Mistakes are okay however, try not to repeat them, make little ones rather than big ones, learn from them, and if it's a truly horrible mistake don't take it too hard and certainly don't get depressed. It is after all only money. Remember when you leave this world you don't take any money with you.

Take care of yourself, love you

Khun Ta

A Christmas Letter to High School Students

December 9, 2013

Dear Youngster,

This letter is my Christmas gift to you. It may be something worth keeping. Now I’m 65 so my experience ought to count for something; I never had anyone give me this kind of guidance and I certainly could have used it. 

BE A VALUE BUYER

Yes, I'm thinking about your future and that means your education. Remember with a "University Education" you're buying something, an investment in yourself and your future. You want to buy value; you want to get the best bang for your buck. If you can't fully commit to finishing and getting a degree, THEN DON'T WASTE YOUR TIME AND MONEY. Four years of college and no degree will be a reminder that you didn't succeed. It's important to set goals that you can attain and build a track record of successful goal achievements. 

You should know what you want to study and WHAT FIELD (not what occupation) you want to make your life's work BEFORE you finish high school. How do you do that? As you read down the page I hope to give you some insight and ideas as to how to tackle this job. College is just too expensive, PERIOD. Too expensive to spend money "Finding Yourself" as once may have been the case. I know you think you're grown up now, if so, then here's a real opportunity to demonstrate it and start acting like an adult; think about saving money, your money. Start Planning! Start Researching! Start Thinking! Start Doing! Start now and know what field you want to explore before you finish high school. Here's a good website to help you get started thinking about your college options and choices; start here -> Your College Decision Headquarters.

If you have the GPA, SAT and extracurriculars to match, try for the very best schools you can. Ivy League, Harvard, Princeton, Dartmouth, Stanford, Notre Dame etc. Go for it; reach for the stars, dare to dream. But be smart, have a backup plan; if you don't get into the top schools look at the next tier, i.e., University of Florida - #24, Purdue #17, etc.

KNOW YOURSELF
I strongly recommend you seek out an organization called the Johnson O'Connor Research Foundation and take their tests. This IS money well spent; there's no better investment than knowing and understanding yourself.  It will be invaluable to you as you pursue your college education and in your working life career. The tests are not typical; they've been in the aptitude business since the 1920’s, and they know their business. Do this your Junior or Senior year of HS and certainly before you finish your first or second year of college.

Your school counselor can also help you find other career interest and personality profile sorts of tests that will better help you understand yourself and discover those areas for which you're best suited. Here are a few available online - Your Free Career Test, Map My Talent, Career Cruising, Career Key, How To Make a Career Choice.

This won't be easy.  I know, I was young once, when you're fifteen your time horizon for the future is maybe one week at the utmost. You probably don't tend to think much beyond the day after tomorrow. But I want you to focus on your long range future and picture what you want your life to look like in three to five year increments for the next fifteen years. Try it just as a mental exercise. Envision your life ahead and dream your future.

"THE SYSTEM"
Of critical importance is figuring out how "The System" works. You need expert advice and someone with experience to help you navigate through these uncharted waters, otherwise you risk getting lost in a maze and chasing your tail. Think of this as a game but you don't know the rules or how to play, but there you are out on the field playing anyway. You have to learn "The System" and guess what; it's all subject to change.

Recognize that there is "A System" and that you need to use it to your advantage or you won't make it. Assume that "The System" is designed to work for the university's advantage. It's complex and difficult to grasp and much of it's workings may be hidden just like an iceberg. You don't want to be the Titanic. You won't know and you won't find out how it works unless you ask questions relentlessly. Guess what, people may not be forthcoming with the information you need. Why? Any number of reasons but don't forget that universities are in business, they want to take your money, even though they're nonprofit organizations, never doubt that money is their bottom line.

For example, many universities have feeder community colleges with whom they have an established relationships. Remember the movie, "Rudy". Rudy went to Holy Cross Junior College and the credits he earned there went unfettered 100% to Notre Dame when he transferred because there was a relationship between the two schools. But if Rudy didn't know about the school relationship and changed his mind and decided to go to Purdue maybe only 25% of his HCJC credits would transfer. You have to know the rules and you have to know them beforehand if you expect to have any chance of winning this game. You have to know how "The System" works.

One of the things you should get with a university education is the ability to think and communicate clearly; you learn how to learn and research and find out what it is you need to know; so use this opportunity to begin to understand "The System" as your first step in getting an education. But finding your way through "The System" requires constant questioning and challenging yourself and your teachers. You're spending a great deal of money - don't let them (your teachers & the school administration) or you, forget it.  If you want to make sure you get what you're paying for you have to know the rules of the game before you play. Don’t waste your time, your life, your energy or your money.

YOUR HS COUNSELING OFFICE
"Your school’s counseling office can be your first step in learning "The System" and planning for your future in several ways. They should know the rules of the game for the universities in their area and if you press them they should help you. They can help you but you need to help them. Show them your dedicated, interested and sincere.

The counseling office can also help you find career coaches; career fairs and job nights; tests that reveal students’ strengths and interests, maybe even internships, volunteer opportunities or job shadows (ask them) — and other information that may help with career decisions. Exploring career areas that interest you can help you choose universities, majors and job paths. Your school counselor can let you know what kind of education or training the fields you're interested in require.

PROFESSIONAL HELP
However, “Let’s face it,” says Katherine Cohen, Ph.D., top guidebook author and CEO of consultant firm IvyWise, “the student-counselor ratio in most public schools is about five hundred to one, and maybe thirty to one in some prestigious private schools."

Consider finding/hiring outside professional help. HECA (Higher Education Consultants Association) and the PCCOFA (Professional College Consulting of America) are two websites that can help you find professional help if you feel you need more help than you're getting through your high school. It could be some of the best money you spend.

Universities also have "school guidance counselors" although they probably don't call them that but your job is to find one special school guidance person you can relate to and make them your new best friend. They hold the key that can unlock the door of understanding to how "The System" works and how you can best navigate the waters of your particular degree. Drop by once a month, bring flowers, coffee, balloons whatever, but make them your friend and use what they know to help you. 

BROADEN YOUR HORIZONS
When you're picking a school you're picking a brand; so find a brand name that people know and then find those that are reasonably priced and good value. Suppose you're living in Ohio and you're one of two finalists for a job you really want. You're equally well qualified candidates but both young, say 24. You graduated from Ball State and the other candidate from Brown University. Who would you hire?

There's lots of information you need to pour through to prepare yourself for this epic adventure. This is your life and your education; you need to take responsibility for it up front. “If it is to be, it’s up to me,” should be your motto. Here are a few links that you should check out to get started. Top World Universities, Top USA University Rankings, 20 Questions to Ask Your School Counselor, College Planning Books, What's a Mentor and Where Can I Get One?,  Make Your Plans at BigFuture (the CollgeBoard.org website is an excellent resourse).

COMMUNITY COLLEGE?
Should you consider a community college? It depends on your circumstances. If you can't get accepted into a four year university or you're going back to college then yes, you don't have a lot of other options. My advice would be find a four year university and commit to getting your degree there. That's cost effective; but you'll need to be well prepared beforehand to accomplish it.

In her article for The Atlantic, How to Escape the Community College Trap, Ann Hulbert says, "The country’s low-cost sub-baccalaureate system—created a century ago to provide an open and affordable entry into higher education to an ever more diverse group of Americans—now enrolls 45 percent of all U.S. undergraduates, many of them part-time students. But only a fraction ever earn a degree, and hardly anyone does it quickly...In urban community colleges like the Borough of Manhattan Community College, the national three-year graduation rate is 16 percent. Nationwide, barely more than a third of community-college enrollees emerge with a certificate or degree within six years." I suggest you read the entire article referenced above.

As the progressive educator Mike Rose puts it in his recent book Back to School, "They haven’t been taught how to use their mind in certain systematic and strategic ways, how to monitor what they’re learning and assess it.” Many don’t enter community college with clear intentions or high confidence: they’ve arrived at the bottom tier, and still it’s daunting.

“It’s a monocracy, as in ‘monster bureaucracy’ ”—in other words, don’t expect helpful intermediaries. Staying on top of shifting general-education requirements, opaque transfer guidelines, and financial-aid complexities is not simple, even for the most-assured students.

FINANCES

Let’s talk finances. If you haven’t already started saving, start today. Preparation is the key. Know your budget, what you can spend, what you can borrow and what you can beg. If you don't have it when you turn 18; get a job and start saving. You should have at least $20,000 before you start. Again, this is your responsibility, your parents don't "OWE" you, if anything it's more likely you "owe" them; having children is a big job and responsibility. I've run across too many people who don't shoulder responsibility for their own actions and their own lives. It's your life, your actions, your decisions, so win or lose, you can't point the finger at anyone but yourself.

I looked at state schools in Florida, Indiana, and Oregon because I've lived in all those states. Tuition for most state schools is in the range of $4,000 to $12,000 a year and you have room, board, transportation and expenses on top of that, so you can pretty well double your tuition figure and come close to a budget. 

If you aren't independently wealthy then you need money to go to school; you need to check out these websites and become familiar with them. Free Application for Federal Student Aid (known as the FAFSA), The CSS/Financial Aid PROFILE (often written as CSS PROFILE), Financial Aid Tips & Info, CSS Profile App, Kaplan-ApplyWise, The National Scholarship Service.

There are a multitude of financial resources available to you, scholarships and grants. You must explore these options. This is another good place to seek professional assistance and if you already found a consultant for your college search through  HECA (Higher Education Consultants Association) and the PCCOFA (Professional College Consulting of America), they can more than likely help you find money as well.

I think the fact that kids these days graduate with huge school loans, I'm talking in excess of $30,000 is a travesty, a real sin and a stain they will spend too much of their life trying to remove. A college degree is no guarantee of a job, remember that.  Also the kind of degree makes a tremendous difference. An Engineering degree will make you a lot more money than an Art History degree. Also to make yourself more marketable post graduation, give some thought to getting a double major in complementary fields. For example, Geology and Environmental Protection.

Another point worth mentioning; if you have completed 50% of the course work for your degree DON'T change your major, you're throwing money away. Complete the degree and then get your Master's in whatever it is that you think you want to change your major to. You get one major change and it ought to be after your first year, that's it. If you don't know by then what area you want to study and you're not sure, then take some time off; explore working internationally in whatever it is you're thinking of and come back in a year.

ACADEMIA VS THE REAL WORLD

That being said give some real thought to the kind of work you want to do. There is an incredible difference between the academic and the real-work world sides of the coin. Before you invest a lot of time and money becoming a doctor (or whatever) try to fathom what the real world and real work looks like as a doctor (or whatever). Do an internship, beg a doctor, better yet, several doctors, to let you follow him/them around for a few days or weeks.  Whatever you do, don’t believe for a minute that real work or the real world is like what you watch on TV; that’s entertainment (so mostly BS).

In 1969 I was a 20 year old apprentice marine engineer; it sounded like a good field. I loved the first six months in Engineering School, learned a lot, got straight A's and was very motivated. Then they put me on a ship to work as a real marine engineer. I was supposed to spend a year at sea; I barely survived four months. I loathed it so much that I almost made the mistake of my life and tried to jump ship in Djibouti, French Somiland; thank God I didn't. I learned so much on that ship and that's a real understatement. But I hated it and when the ship docked back in the U.S.A. I was the first one off and never looked back.  So the point is, there is a real difference between the academic world and the real working world. Try to know and understand the real working world first before you make a big investment in education and qualification.

DON'T WORRY - BE HAPPY

The other thing to think about is, “What are you happy doing?” If you're not happy in your work, your life will suffer. I was very lucky in that most of my working life I was happy doing the work with which I was involved. That wasn't the case with the last 9 years of my career. I chose teaching because I needed a job, so I did it and tried to do it well. But teachers in general in the U.S. are so disrespected that it's an extremely poor career choice. I was also over 50 and it's difficult to find any work once you cross that line.

Strive to be happy.  It isn’t always easy; there will be times when you feel lost and miserable. Avoid the path of depression; it’s a dead end road. When you feel yourself heading there, do something, preferable something that gets you active and takes your mind off the pity party you’re throwing for yourself.  Every day have fun; find friends that make you laugh. Don’t take yourself or the world too seriously, remember that next week, next month, next year and certainly five years from now, whatever it is won’t matter to anyone.

MAKE CONSCIOUS DECISIONS

Life is difficult. Always try to make conscious decisions about what it is you're going to do; avoid drifting, procrastination and going with the flow (following the herd mentality).  Think for yourself; don't let others do your thinking for you. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes, the trial and error method can work but research and planning give you much better odds. Finding your way in life takes real work.

In the next few years you will make decisions that affect the course of your entire life (See Luck is No Accident). You'll come to a crossroads, make a choice and start down a path and before you know it, there’s no going back. Try to recognize those crossroads when you get there. Maintain an awareness of where you are, who you are and where you are going. If you haven't thought about it beforehand you’re likely to be totally unprepared to make the best decision you can. So start thinking about it now. You need to know yourself intimately and honestly and then envision your preferred future life.

WHAT SHOULD YOU DO NOW?
Keep your grades up, stay focused in your classes. Take as many practice SAT tests as you can; practice really pays off. You should see your score improve with every practice test you take. Spend an hour or two each week researching, thinking and working on your future plans.  Keep a record of your thoughts and ideas; a journal on this topic and the work you do will be invaluable to you and help you clarify your thinking and opinions. Visit your HS counselor regularly, make sure they're involved and stay involved. Start learning "The System". Think about what AP course are available and make sense for you, make sure your registering for them. They may be available in your Junior year.

FINAL THOUGHTS 
Get in the habit of saving money, whatever you can; but a good goal is 10 to 20%. My grandmother taught me the importance of always setting something aside; it was incredibly good advice. The alternative to not saving and not having funds when you really need it, isn't all that attractive. There's always lots of things that you think you have to have. Think again. Carefully weigh your choices with money and all things of importance.

Figure out what you believe in and what really matters to you. Everyone needs a philosophy, find yours and then live it, breathe it and practice it. There are too many people who say one thing and do the complete opposite; don’t become one of them.  The world is overflowing with hypocrites.  When it comes to life and philosophy, it matters more what you do than what you say.   

Right now, today, start to think about what you want to study; think about what you want. Think about who you are and what you want to accomplish with your life. Write your obituary and look back on the kind of life you'd most like to have.  Dream and never stop dreaming. Be true to yourself. I wish you a good life and a happy life.  I was never so happy as when I found true love; but finding it is not easy to do and keeping it is perhaps even more difficult, but that's another letter. Good Luck and God Bless.

READING LIST
Countdown to College: 21 To Do Lists for High School
Worthless: The Young Person's Indispensable Guide to Choosing the Right Major
Career Match: Connecting Who You Are with What You'll Love to Do
What Color is your Parachute? for Teens
Transitions: Making Sense of Life's Changes
College Apps
The 2013 Student and Parent's Guide to UCAS: Selecting the Best University Courses
Choosing the Right College 2012-13: The Whole Truth about America's Top Schools
Selecting the right college: Over 50 little-known tips from a college president
Admission Matters: What Students and Parents Need to Know About Getting into College
The Best 378 Colleges, 2014 Edition (College Admissions Guides)
Colleges That Change Lives: 40 Schools That Will Change the Way You Think About Colleges
Looking Beyond the Ivy League: Finding the College That's Right for You
Making It into a Top College, 2nd Edition: 10 Steps to Gaining Admission to Selective Colleges and Universities
The Ultimate Guide to America's Best Colleges 2013
The Gatekeepers: Inside the Admissions Process of a Premier College
Crazy U: One Dad's Crash Course in Getting His Kid Into College
Acceptance: A Legendary Guidance Counselor Helps Seven Kids Find the Right Colleges--and Find Themselves
Acing the College Application: How to Maximize Your Chances for Admission to the College of Your Choice
The Best Value Colleges, 2013 Edition: The 150 Best-Buy Schools and What It Takes to Get In (College Admissions Guides)

The Pathfinder: How to Choose or Change Your Career for a Lifetime of Satisfaction and Success


My thanks to Jeff & Lindsay Beck who provided invaluable assistance for this article.

A letter to my good friend, Steve

Steve Washburn->Russell Beck Dec. 2, 2013 at 1:42am 
• Happy birthday Russ, you are getting old, but not as old as me.

Yeah, but I'm not that far behind you. Thanks for the birthday wishes, Steve; it’s always good to hear from you. You've been a good friend and mentor. Your email was returned to me and I didn't want to send this to you via Facebook's inadequate mail/messenger service so opted to post it here. Very few people read my blog, so we're mostly safe.

Do you remember that first week when we met in Buffalo so many years ago you told me, "You can fake a back injury in a football game and avoid the draft, why waste any of your life in the Army." I always thought it was so strange that the last game of the season I didn't fake it; it actually happened that I tore two ligaments and cartilage in my right knee and that got me out of military service. Your power of suggestion worked incredibly in that case.

When I think of you I think of all the fun we had. It seems now that we always had a good time. So today I’ve had a lot of fun remembering, here's what I came up with.

When I first arrived in Oregon in June 1970 you took me in and gave me a place to stay. I think we went water skiing at a friend of yours on Lake Oswego that first week and I was so impressed, I thought that was just so cool.
Other memories…
• $30/month for rent, unbelievable in this day and age.
• Living behind and working for Mr. Jones at his little roadside convenience store.
• You helping me fix my $85 car, a 1958 two tone green and white Chevy Bel Air; replacing the clutch; replacing the heater, in the old garage out back. Can’t believe now I actually did it with your advice.
• My one week job selling a sewing machine and making one sale and $135.
• My job at the “Palm Springs European Health Spa”, I remember you visiting me there.
• The Mormon guys you BA’d while they were trying to proselytize me.
• Jabo and his incredible Hawaiian nudie movies. He wanted me to make one. It didn't happen.
• Visiting your best friend, Jim, the fisherman at his home on the Oregon Coast. I think that was the first time I'd ever watched cable TV.
• Attending Vortex, the one and only week long, State of Oregon sponsored rock festival on the Sandy River. I remember seeing this incredibly beautiful girl standing with the river up to her knees. I wanted to talk to her but as we were both stark naked, I couldn't for the life of me think of what to say.
• You taking flying lessons and sometimes taking me flying; “touch and go”.
• Your advice to “get my union card” and finish university.
• Going to PCC; getting a school loan for $1,000 that lasted me a little more than two terms.
• I remember our first trip to Timberline Lodge and your immortal first skiing lesson which consisted of, “OK, see you at the bottom.”
• Night skiing at Bachelor. Your iguanas. Nicole. Rita. Butch Cassidy, Sundance and your guns. I remember you bought one later from my father-in-law.

Then there was the time we went out to the airport to see Wes off to his new teaching job in the Philippines. God, that was a good time. He was in rare form that day. Remember he had that, “You dirty rat" routine, I seem to recall he did it several times along with others, that now escape me, but I'll always remember how good I felt to be part of the group and having so much fun. And that pretty well sums up how I felt about all the time I spent with you and the guys there on Taylor Ferry Rd.

Of course nothing can compare to our “Road Trip” 14,000 miles in ten weeks across the U.S. and Canada, camping out.  Well, I can remember at least one motel we stayed at.

I'll never forget that trip, but know I’ve forgotten parts of it. What a journey! I'm so glad you let me tag along even though I had nadda for money and had to mooch off you as opposed to sharing expenses. It was an adventure of a lifetime and all that much the better to have shared it with you. We had so many experiences, good times and laughs along the way.

Some of the things that stand out in my mind are...
 • You meeting me at the airport in LA., I was so relieved that you showed up.
• Sleeping on picnic tables in the desert. Weren’t there snakes? Buying a tent the next day at an Army Surplus Store.
• The rainstorm in Tulsa, OK and stripping down to our shorts and pushing the car out of the small pond that had formed around our little rented VW hatchback.
• Our trip to Juarez, Mexico; “25 positions $25” and your comeback, “How about 1 position for $1”
• The girl in Texas who just suddenly began rubbing my feet in the car. I know she wanted to rub something else but there was no time on the schedule and I didn't want to leave your bus.
• The week we spent at IU in Bloomington. Mucho Grande Chee Chees Man.
• The attempted robbery I almost slept through and then being unable to escape from my sleeping bag. You waving your gun around. The conversation
 “I’ve got a big stick”
 “I’ve got a big gun.”
 “OK then, you win.”
• Sleeping in the back yard of the girl’s house after the robbery. Making out with "Mucho Grande" in the tent.
• You going home with me to visit my family in Indianapolis.
• Horseback riding with you, Glenn, his road manager and the musicians. Will never forget that horse, he was a monster.
• The IU football game we attended.
• The scenery that fall in West Virginia
• You giving me shit for giving money to a homeless guy on the street when I had next to nothing myself.
• Getting stuck in the field in Canada and having a farmer pull us out with his tractor and going back to his home and meeting his family and have breakfast.
• Peeing on frozen boots to warm them up.
• Corks and slugs.
• Met some girls somewhere, went to their home; made up some incredible bullshit story about ourselves. I think we became owners of a huge cattle ranch, but the details elude me.

• Was it somewhere in Montana where the guy said, "I can't believe you guys are wearing cowboy boots and suits."
• Showering at universities, always fun, always an adventure.
• "Leaving the material".
• Taking and incredible bowel movement by the side of the train tracks and the highway somewhere in Idaho after being constipated for four days.

Finally, amidst all these memories came one more. I need to make a confession. Not long after I arrived in Portland you introduced me to a beautiful blond girl, can't remember her name but she was a friend of yours and I think she had a sister as well.  Anyway, we went on a date. I told her I believed in reincarnation and that I believed I've lived many lives before this one. She told you and when you asked me about it, I denied it. I'm sorry I did that, I lied. I do believe in reincarnation and I believe we're all connected. My Theology makes a lot more sense to me than the faith I grew up with. So as Maxwell Smart would say, "Sorry about that, Chief."

I know there's more but these are the things that come to mind 43 years later, I guess I’ve lost the rest. But I’ve never lost the feeling and I just wanted to say “Thank You.”

Stork Duty - Destination India

October, 1969, the SS Green Valley, a C-41 Victory cargo ship carries a young apprentice engineer into Bombay Harbor. In December 1987, I returned to Bombay, on my way to Pune, India.

Bombay had changed. The population doubled to eight Million people. Not as many people sleep on the street;they've moved into huts made of black plastic, cardboard,canvas and whatever can be found. Of course, not everyone lives this way, but thousands do.

India is like stepping onto another planet. It's a reflective place; it makes you wonder at this phenomenon we call life. It remains a mystical place to me. It is a strange dreamscape, a mixture of people, sights and smells emitting such varied impressions that is almost impossible to capture. A traveler senses the spiritual power of the place; the poverty is plain to see.

My adventure began when I mentioned to a friend, Susan Cox, who worked for Holt International Children's Services, an international adoption agency that I had been to India a number of years ago and would love to return someday. She looked at me a little strangely and said, “Really?”

A few weeks later I received a call asking whether I'd be willing to travel to India on behalf of Holt and escort an infant to new parents here in the United States. I had adopted my first two children, Jeff and Christine, from South Korea through Holt. I knew the emotions involved in receiving those gifts we call our children. Playing stork, however,would be a new experience.

On short notice, a week before Christmas, I was on a 6 a.m. flight bound for India. After a 39-hour trip, I arrived in Bangkok, Thailand, where I spent a day and a half. I arrived in Bombay late Saturday and spent the night at the Bombay YMCA.

In order to see some of the country, I took the train to Pune. It took five hours to travel the 115 miles up into the mountains through what seemed like an incredible number of tunnels. The countryside was dotted with tiny plots of ground growing rice, corn and potatoes. The meal served on the train was delicious. I was feeling pretty well, until someone pointed out how they clean the trays by the side of the track. This trip my stomach stood the test, no ill effects, that wasn’t always to be the case.

As the train pulled into Pune Station near sunset, I was exhausted hot and dirty. I was easy prey for the ravenous cab drivers. The next morning I set out by rickshaw to find the Bharatiya Samaj Seva Kendra (BSSK), an orphanage and social service organization partially supported by Holt. There I was to meet the child with whom I was to return. What I found on the way was the Rajneeshdham Neo Sannyas Commune, home of the Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, the infamous guru who had for a time made his home in my home state of Oregon.

We drove past what seemed like hundreds of motor scooters and the main gate to the Rajneesh grounds. Stopping the driver, I jumped out and began taking pictures. A burly Rajneeshi guard yelled at me to stop. He rushed over and assaulted me with a flurry of questions. "Are you a reporter?" "Where are you from?" "Where in the US? "Where in Oregon?" "What are you doing here?" He suggested that in the future I should seek permission before taking pictures - presumably so that my request could be denied by the proper authorities. I was relieved when he didn't try to grab my camera.

My destination, the children's home, was housed in an old Colonial mansion, in great disrepair, surrounded by a large field bordered by high-rises and black plastic hovels. It was less than a mile from the Rajneesh ashram. Wandering around inside, I watched as diapers were washed (by hand), babies were fed and children got dressed for play.

I had never been in an orphanage before and was unprepared for the open and raw displays of affection the children made toward me. I was awed when one little girl grabbed my hand, stared in my eyes and called me "Dada," over and over again.

Lata Joshi, the Director, said her organization's aim was to place children for adoption, not permanent foster care. About a third are placed in India, a third in Europe, and a third in the United States, she said. However, she continued, there were attitudes in India that made adoption difficult. Some Indian people believe that adoptive children will be used as servants in other countries. There are also concerns about religion, heredity and culture.

In my experience, inter-country adoption tends to bring cultures and people together. These forgotten children need those families and there are plenty of families who desperately want a child to love.

That afternoon I visited several foster homes, where small infants are well cared for by loving foster families. Visiting those families gave me an opportunity to see how a typical Indian family lived.

Part of what fascinates me about India, is the appearance that these people, as a people, are happy, joyful and lighthearted. Much more so than people in this country. I wish I knew why.

Lata Joshi insisted on my having dinner in her home that evening. She and her husband are strict vegetarians, as are many Indian people. We had a delightful meal. Lata's husband returned me to my hotel on his motor scooter.

Early the next morning, I left Pune with 11-month-old Jason. He was on his way to his new home and family. When he had been found 11 months earlier abandoned in an oil drum near the train station, the Pune police had taken him to the orphanage. Now he was healthy, playful and, best of all, no longer an orphan.

Jason was good company. He slept most of the time we were in the air. After a long flight with a nine-hour layover in Tokyo, we arrived in Portland on December 23, 1987. Jason's new family and other well wishers met us at the gate. It's quite an experience to deliver a baby. It's got to be more fun than being a Pediatrician. You see people overwhelmed with joy, the light in their eyes tells you something wonderful is happening. A child has just received something every child deserves, but doesn't always get, a home and family of his own. My return to India, and the gift I brought back, turned out to make that Christmas one of the best I've ever had.

Sixty-One

when you're sixty-one is it all done?
Not in the mood for clubbing fun.
Don't cruise to "Tee Pee" or pick up chicks.
Unlikely, cruising died with most flicks.

Bar hopping long ago lost all appeal.
Like texting, don't have the feel.
Content with life, have lost my zeal
for chasing dreams, my heart bestill

Someone suggested, get with it, "Get a tattoo"
would actually rather be a monkey in the zoo,
or scalped by a wild Arapahoo
or impaled by Vlad, in a messy goo.
Don't do tattoo, don't like to say "Moo".

Found happiness within, was always there
but searched the world to find my share.
Now home, hot tub, dinner with my mate;
that's all it takes for a perfect date.

Summer of Love

Buffalo, 1968

Once the first summer term ended I planned to fly down to Ft. Lauderdale where Sheila lived and spend the rest of the summer with her. After some serious soul searching earlier that summer I’d decided that given the slightest opportunity I’d lose my virginity in Florida, assuming Sheila was willing, but that was not to be. Fate intervened when I was informed by Coach Geiger that my summer school grades had brought my GPA down to the point where I was ineligible to play football that fall. To get my grades up I needed to register for the second summer term.

The whole point of working was to make enough money to enable this trip. I felt like my dog just died; I told Sheila the bad news as we exchanged letters, stamps were five cents but long distance was expensive. Her reply, stained with tear drops, told me how her dad had gotten the speed boat all fixed up and how could this happen but there was nothing to be done.

I’d left my job at the steel mill and could focus full time on my classes and feeling sorry for myself. From that point in time it was barely a week before I was to meet two people who were to change the course of my life. Within the same week I met them both. One perfect summer morning in Buffalo, New York as I was hitchhiking down Main Street to class at SUNY, Steve Washburn stopped to pick me up. We hit it off immediately, he was funny and still makes me laugh; we became fast friends.

Steve was 5’11 about 160 pounds had long blond hair and was prematurely bald on top at 24, but he made the comb-over look cool. He was deep into the philosophy of fun and his beach-boy Zen was irresistible. He made me laugh and think at the same time. He was a record promoter for the singer, Glenn Yarbrough. (http://www.glennyarbrough.com/discography.html).

On a cross country promotional tour visiting radio stations and college campuses, Steve was passing out records and material in hopes of generating business. Steve had met Yarbrough when he was a Hawaiian beach boy and became so indispensable in assisting with a concert there that Yarbrough put him on the payroll. Steve moved in with me temporarily as he worked the Buffalo area over the next week.

It was an idyllic summer night in Buffalo, Steve and I had gone to campus to check out a campus mixer. Steve liked to trip over chairs, furniture, cars, anything really and make it look like an accident; he would make loud noises; he was a master at replicating the peacock call and generally excelled at attracting attention. It was all fun to me. As we were leaving I noticed Cathy, she was leaning on a rail on the south end of the student union building all alone, an exquisite alluring vision. When I said, “Hi” she said, “Hi’ back; that’s all I needed to start a conversation. The three of us went to the 300 Club, a nearby pub where they served twenty-five cent draft beer to get better acquainted. Steve didn’t drink and left early as Cathy promised to give me a ride home.

She told me, “I read an article saying that to meet someone you need to make eye contact. Gazing across that crowded outdoor mixer, looking for a handsome man to make eye contact, I found you. You were so handsome; I stared at you, until finally you caught my eye.”

As we talked I found myself falling into deep pools that were her brown eyes, like a buck caught in the headlights, mesmerized by her obvious beauty and charm. Unlike Odysseus I wasn’t chained to the mast. She laughed, smiled, played and teased and overcome with her alluring Siren song, I fell like a giant redwood.

Cathy was of Norwegian descent; a tall, slender blond with sparkling eyes and a magical smile. She had a refreshing air of straight forward honesty and directness. She didn’t play games, loved animals and drove a Corvette. Physically she was a knockout. There was a strong mutual attraction; we found ourselves unable to stem the tide.

Physically our bodies exhibited a raw hunger for each other, a passion unlike anything I’d previously experienced. Our relationship was torrid; we crashed into each other like waves on the shore. It was our second or third date. It was my first time and I remember thinking, “Wow, is that all there is to it!” of course that was at the beginning, but by the time we were finished my thinking was more like, “Now I know what heaven feels like.” We’d stay out until three or four in the morning unable to tear ourselves apart.

We were together every day, if we weren’t, like the first day of a fast, I found myself actually aching to be with her. I met her family, two younger sisters, a corporate father and charming mother; they lived near the country club. They were more than gracious. I had a room of my own in the basement. When Cathy’s Mom found out I liked beer she made sure the refrigerator was always well stocked. I ate dinner with them three or four nights a week.

Our lovemaking was an intimate sharing of souls wrapped in truth, beauty, love and respect. We felt that nothing seemed more natural. We spent an entire day making love over and over again, finally stopping because we were both famished. I couldn’t go swimming for awhile for all the welts on my back from her fingernails. One day she told me, “I want to have your baby!” It changed me because when she said it, I thought, “That sounds so appealing.” This had not been my mindset before I met her.

While we smooched on the sofa we watched Tiny Tim on the Johnny Carson show and wondered, like the rest of the country, “Where did they find this oddball?” Going to the drive-in we never watched the movie. On the way home we were so worked up we stopped at the golf course for a hole in one. Not in the rough or the fairway but freely on the green. It was fun and liberating with a tinge of naughty.

I have relatives in Cincinnati, Ohio, their name is Fink and I’m related to them through my Grandmother on my Father’s side, her maiden name was Fink. I loved these people because they were always so good to me and my family. When I was growing up there were frequent treks back and forth for weddings, funerals and reunions between Indianapolis and Cincinnati. There was a big wedding in Cincinnati the summer of 1968; my cousin Jeannie Fink was getting married.

After some discussion Cathy’s family gave their assent for her to accompany me to the wedding. Standby airfares were cheap, one way from Buffalo to Cincinnati for two, about $30; we would ride back to Buffalo with my family in their RV. It was an opportunity for Cathy to meet my family, things were moving fast.

There must have been 400 people at this raucous German Catholic wedding. The reception was held in a large hall with a big band and lots of food and beer. It was obvious to everyone that we were in love. People teased us about the “next” wedding. We danced and partied like there was no tomorrow.

When we returned I started making plans, operative word “I”. This was a mistake; never make plans without your partner’s full participation. Aptitude testing was around but I wasn’t aware of it. Turning to the library, I selected a book of occupations and started combing through until hitting upon something that rang a bell, “Naval Architect – Marine Engineer”. The sea, ships and navy had always been alluring; in grade school I dreamed of attending the Naval Academy.

Disillusioned and feeling jilted about my college education so far; yes, I was on a full athletic scholarship, but it wasn’t working for me. Football consumed about forty hours a week, which seemed inordinate for a three hour game on Saturday, much less the $.81 per hour my scholarship was paying. I was playing ball to get an education, but it didn’t feel like it was happening. Disheartened with lecture halls with 300 students and a professor reading out of a textbook, I perceived a lack of value received and yearned for something more practical.

Further research revealed that a school for Marine Engineers existed in Baltimore, Maryland and it was a better proposition than my football scholarship. If accepted I would receive room, board, books, tuition and $200 per month while enrolled. It was a two year program, six months of school, a year at sea, another six months of school, pass a test and I’d have a license as a Marine Engineer. I applied and a few months later I was accepted. Who was my inspiration and motivation for this dramatic change of direction? None other than Cathy, who I hoped to impress with my manly provider engineering skills.

Our summer came to a close. As a footnote I have absolutely no recollection what classes I took that second term but I must have passed and brought up my GPA. Football practice began in mid-August and Cathy and her family went off for a week’s vacation without me. Steve had left me a number of Yarbrough records which helped me wallow in self pity. Have you ever heard his album, “The Lonely Things”? If you’re lovesick, don’t; it could be suicidal.

Cathy returned for a brief reunion before setting off for Denison, where she was finishing her senior year in Granville, Ohio. Most stable relationships require two critical elements, good communication and proximity. Without them most of us just aren’t strong enough to make it work. I shot myself in the foot with my marine engineering venture by not talking seriously to Cathy about “our” future. Maybe she would have said there wasn’t going to be one or maybe she would have told me what she wanted. She was less than enthusiastic when I told her my plans for engineering school. That should have been a cue, but I was young and stupid. We said our goodbyes and began to write each other.

With one last cockamamie idea up my sleeve, I devised an illicit assignation; brought on by angst over the loss of Cathy’s presence. Not forgetting how the coaches had abused me as a redshirt the previous year, I thought, “They don’t care about me, why not indulge my own selfish gratification”?

Setting out the Sunday after our third game I found myself hitchhiking to Granville, Ohio for a reunion with Cathy at Denison. Without telling anyone, even my best friends and roommates, who I knew would talk when pressured by the coaches; I simply vanished into the Freeways.

Cathy was surprised and excited to see me. We went on a romantic hayride, attended a bonfire pep rally, I met her friends, followed her along to class and went out for beers afterward. We went shopping, rented a motel room and made wild passionate love. It was a fantastic week and I’ve never regretted it one iota.

After receiving a call from the Coaches, it didn’t take my Mother long to figure out where I was. She called Cathy’s dorm and reached me there. She told me everyone was worried and I needed to get back to Buffalo. Cathy drove me out to the freeway on Sunday morning and I hitchhiked back. It was the last time for a long time before I’d ever be so deeply in love again.

Summer Job

Buffalo, NY - 1968

As the school year began to draw to a close thoughts turned to summer employment. My best friend, Bob and I began to conspire. Going home wasn’t an appealing option so we opted to stay in Buffalo and find work. Our football coaches were instrumental in helping us find employment at the Republic Steel Bar Mills on the south end of town near Lake Erie. On the graveyard shift we worked from 11pm until 7am. The pay was $2.73 per hour, a lot of money at the time. Being ambitious, we signed up for summer school as well. This meant attending two classes from 8am to 12 noon, weekdays for six weeks.

Bob and I found an apartment close to downtown. It was an interesting ethnic (black) neighborhood right off Main Street. An old Polish lady who liked to watch our every move rented us an upstairs two bedroom furnished apartment. Furnished was a key component as most of what we had were the clothes on our back. We lived on fried eggs and fried baloney and tried to sleep in the warm afternoons between 2pm to 10pm. My sister, Bridgette, who had just graduated from high school moved in with us and got a job at the hospital just down the street, as a nurse’s aid; good training as she later became a nurse.

The hardest part about the job was staying awake. The work was hot and dangerous. These were bar mills, the hot steel came out in large ingots and went through a number of progressively huge rollers to stretch and lengthen them into bars of steel. An ingot could be a red hot lump of steel measuring 2 feet high, 3 feet long, and 2 feet wide. The finished bars could be 50 feet long an inch thick and 4 inches wide.

We weren’t assigned specific jobs, instead each night we were assigned an area or a task. One of the jobs was pulling the finished bars off the rollers. We had a long metal pole about twelve feet long with a short hook on the end as the bars came down the line I would pull them off. Another job was grabbing the red hot steel bars coming out of one set of rollers and spinning them around and feeding them into another set of rollers. Bob got this job and his great fear was that he’d suddenly turn into Lucy Arnaz and foul up the assembly line. There’s no way he could eat that red hot steel.

Other things that made an impression were the pollution and chemicals running into Lake Erie. You had to be careful where you put your lunch because the rats would eat it if you didn’t. The noise was so loud in some places you couldn’t hear yourself think. I almost got fired one night because I couldn’t hear the instructions my boss gave me. At the end of our shift we’d be filthy and covered in thick soot. We had to wear safety goggles and when we took them off our eye sockets would be white and the rest of our faces would be black. We all looked alike, you could only recognize someone by the way they carried themselves.

Bob and I worked there eight weeks but some of the men we worked with had spent their whole lives in that hellhole. One of the things I took away was that there had to be a better way to make a living. My career options were slowly being whittled away one at a time through trial and error. There ought to be a better way.

Time and Chance Happen To Us All

Buffalo, NY – January - May 1968

Winter in Buffalo is typically depressing, it’s unbelievably cold and grey and summer is along way off. But in January 1968 I was not depressed but ecstatic for I’d started dating an unbelievably beautiful girl. She was bright, captivating, intriguing and sexy, all ingredients to which I was irresistibly drawn. She was tall and thin about 5’ 8” with blue eyes, an angelic voice and short, light brown hair she kept in a page boy cut. Her long legs supported by slender model’s feet. She was a conservative dresser and prone to fluffy blouses. She attended a private Catholic girl’s school just down the street. Her name was Sheila.

Frustrated by the dearth of attractive women on the UB campus, there were too many liberal hippies, a definite turn off. Being attracted to blonds at the time, there might have been three or four on campus. I had been extremely envious when my best friend and roommate, Bob met Sheila at a campus mixer and dated her several times that fall. When I noticed that he’d started dating another girl, I asked Bob’s permission to call Sheila. “No problem,” he said and so it began.

Sheila and I started going out. My philosophy about dating at this time was too pursue until I lost interest or the girl did. My assumption was if a girl continued going out with me she was interested. Sheila was gorgeous; not believing my good fortune I tended to put her on a pedestal. This was a mistake. It’s funny, at the time I didn’t want to make any mistakes with her and yet I made a huge one.

Real love where emotions are reciprocal does not visit us often in the course of our lives. Foolishly, when we are young we think it awaits us around every corner. Nothing is further from the truth. Love is more difficult to find than gold or the most precious diamond. When you do find it hold on for everything you’re worth for it is indeed a precious gift.

For the first five months of the year we went out together most weekends. Taking in a variety of activities; poetry picnics in a pastoral setting, visiting the zoo, submarine races etc. As a poor college student, I didn’t let my lack of funds stand in the way of having fun. Fortunately, Sheila was good humored enough to go along with most of my foolishness. One night we hitchhiked together down Main St. to a German “Oktoberfest” restaurant where we sang German drinking songs and drank beer. On the way home we smooched on the sidewalk while waiting for our next ride.

All that winter and spring Sheila had been my inspiration and a motivating force. She was in my thoughts constantly and I wanted to be a better person because of her. As a college football player you’re expected to train all year around. We had “practice’ on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings at 7:00AM at the gym. The coaches crammed a two hour workout into an hour of intensive drills, it was murder. On Tuesdays and Thursday we were expected to lift weights in the afternoon. This went on until the beginning of spring practice when we began football practice for about five or six weeks finally culminating in the “Spring Game”.

One night in particular stands out as a turning point, a good example of not knowing what one wants. Sheila and I had a date right after the game. It had been a great game for me. I’d made a number of stellar plays and had moved up to the number one spot at the defensive tackle position. This was an achievement as just a few months before I’d been a “red shirt” on the scrub team.

When you’re a “red shirt” you sit out a year, you keep your eligibility for another year. The way I was treated I wondered if I’d even be playing next year; they made me feel like I was the worst player on the team. It seemed I couldn’t do anything right. None of the coaches ever spoke to me about being “red shirted” and it caused me a great deal of bitterness and resentment.

The feeling of exhilaration at that moment was a highlight of my college career. My teammates and fraternity brothers were there and it felt like being on top of the world. Sheila was waiting for me outside the stadium. We went to small cabaret on the Southeast side of the campus, a rock band was playing. My roommates and I spent a lot of time pretending to be rock stars so I knew the words to a few songs and before long I was singing with the band on stage.

Afterward, as we sat in my car I tried to express how much she meant to me. At nineteen I was still a virgin and hadn’t made the decision to change. This was a night something could have happened but didn’t. It was a missed opportunity. How do I know, because six months later Sheila told me. “All you wanted to do was talk and all I wanted you to do was take me.” I have no idea what might have happened had I slept with Sheila that night or any other. But I’m guessing it was another crossroad.

In college all three of my roommates were dating girls they later married. Now forty years later they are all still married to those same women. I can’t help but wonder what life would be like had I followed their course, but I took a different path and wound up in a different place.