She's Always Wanted a Destination Wedding

Ripples of shock expanded across certain social media cirlces when late on a Sunday night, a photo emerged of my daughter which showed her holding hands with some dude named Ross in a gazebo with the caption "Married, y'all!"

This guy Ross was one of the first kids I met when we dropped our daughter off for her freshman year at TCU, but I don't think I saw him again until a few days after graduation. He seems like a good guy, but I'm not prepared for him to be my son-in-law. So, like a few others, I was confused...especially when an accompanying photo was captioned "The best wedding party I could have asked for."

The ambiguity had an unsettling effect on some people, including some of her oldest and closest friends who weren't at the wedding.
Let's be honest, I knew it was some kind of gag from the first moment I saw it, but I didn't get the joke. I have to admit I thought for a few seconds, "Hold on; what if this is real?" Since she was a little girl, I've been telling her there was one word I wanted her to learn: "elope." What if she took me seriously? But, here's the truth: She, Ross and a bunch of other recent TCU graduates joined tens of thousands of others for a giant music festival, Hangout Music Fest, on the Alabama gulf coast.

There were actual weddings performed in that gazebo, but most of them were just for the weekend. For these "weekend" ceremonies, a preacher would go through the motions but change up the vows to say things like "in drunkenness and in hangover" and "from here until the end of OutKast on Sunday evening." OutKast was one of the featured bands at the festival. So, breathe easy, everybody. Her marriage was automaticaly annulled with the last note of music. There are lingering questions about how binding those weekend vows were. They're out there, but I'm not going to ask.

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Let the Speaking Commence

I was flabbergasted when the chancellor at Bossier Parish Community College asked me to be the commencement speaker for the morning session of graduates. I have no idea why he wanted me,and I actually mulled it over for a few days before I agreed.

Ultimately, I decided to go for it, because how can you turn down an honor like that? The first rule of public speaking is "know your audience." So, I wrote a little something for people mostly in their early to mid-20's who presumably will continue their education or move directly into the workforce. Here's the text of the remarks:

Good morning, everyone and congratulations! This is a tremendous day. Please take some time to celebrate what you’ve accomplished. Relax a little. Be proud of yourself. Come on, coast for a couple of days. You’ll need the rest, because as soon as you catch your breath, it will be time to start that long climb to wherever it is you’re going.

Where is that, by the way? Many, if not most of you, probably don’t have any idea. No doubt, you’ve heard a lot about the journey ahead and you’ve probably received a lot of advice. Today, on your day, I won’t presume to stand here and advise you. My plan is to tell you a series of stories and maybe, if you actually listen to a couple of them, they will be helpful to you somewhere along the way.

Let’s start with a phone call I got a couple of weeks ago.

But first, a little background is important. Starting when I was 18, I spent 27 years working in local media: television news, a little as a morning-show host at an oldies station…and for a long time, I hosted a morning radio talk show while also working at a TV station. I usually had two jobs, sometimes more. I dabbled in the advertising agency business on the side, for instance. So, I’ve spent most of my adult life in a personality-driven world. I’ve crossed paths with more than my share of enormous egos and eccentric, creative people. Don’t get me wrong, most of them were talented, nice people who just would not fit in an average office environment. And don’t think for once second I’m carving myself out of that category.

A consequence of making those professional choices was that my social interactions as a young adult were with co-workers or competitors…people in media. That means most of the women I dated, I met at work. That’s only important because it leads us to our first story. You see, other young ambitious people were in similar circumstances. So, there was a time in the early 80’s when I was involved in a bitter rivalry with another guy for the attention of an attractive female co-worker. She didn’t do us any favors, believe me. Looking back on it, she obviously enjoyed the attention. I guess it was great to have two guys engaging in open warfare for your affection. Ultimately, everybody moved on. I changed jobs, she left town and I have no idea whatever happened to that other guy. The last time I laid eyes on him was in 1984.

And then, that phone call I got a couple of weeks ago. It came out of nowhere from a buddy of mine who is the CEO of his company and he’s hiring. He’s looking over the resume of an applicant and sees that he worked in local TV for a long time. He was doing background checks and wanted to know if I was familiar with this particular applicant. In fact, I am. You guessed it; it was The Other Guy. I haven’t seen him for 30 years. If he were sitting in front of me, I wouldn’t recognize him. I barely knew him at the time….but here I was…in a position to influence his professional future. Crazy, right?

Want to know what I said? I told the truth. I said I barely know him, but back in the day; he was considered a genius at what he did. If there was a problem that seemed unfixable, he was the go-to guy. I said I have no idea if his 80’s-era technical genius would translate well to the 2010’s, but I would like to assume he’s kept up. I said I didn’t think I could be much help. The CEO thanked me, laughed a little, and said “you helped more than you know. I thought there was a chance you knew him and I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t say he’s some kind of knucklehead.” Yeah, he said “knucklehead.”

This phone call kind of gave me chills. Knowing me in the early 80’s, I hope nobody ever calls and checks on my knucklehead status. But, I can’t control that, and here’s the point of the story: When it comes to you: You can control it, starting right now. The decisions you make today and going forward will resonate. If you get into a dispute with someone, they may forgive but chances are they’ll never forget. If you lie to someone, you will never recover from it. If you misbehave, it will come back to bite you. In short, if you’re a knucklehead, thirty years down the road chances are someone will remember it when somebody else asks about you.

So, some things the knucklehead with the microphone would like to do over if he could: remember, when the guy called me, I told the truth.

If you lie to someone, you will never recover from it. Lies lead to more lies. Cultivating a culture of deception is never a good idea in the long run. But there are ways to tell the truth without getting yourself into trouble. I wish I had listened when somebody told me that a long, long time ago….which leads me to another story.

I was in a meeting with a couple of bosses and a few close co-workers. A consultant had been brought in to examine the way we were doing things. In the history of the world, no consultant has ever come into a business and said “I think you’re doing great. I wouldn’t change a thing.” As a young, arrogant, know-it-all knucklehead, I knew this. But, I thought I was smart enough to deal with it. Having always placed a premium on honesty and armed with a preconceived notion, my brilliant strategy was to listen politely and pretty much keep my mouth shut. That worked until the boss looked at me and said “You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet. What do you think of all this?” Uh-oh, right? My answer, in retrospect, was poor. I said something like “I hate it. We’re making changes for the sake of change. We’re wasting money with this consultant. We’re not doing anything wrong and I’m not sure I see any value in what he had to say.” Oh, boy…that did not go well. That was a huge mistake. In my mind, I was standing up for my co-workers because THIS GUY was telling us we were doing it all wrong.

I could have answered truthfully, yet infinitely more effectively, by saying “I think I will do everything I can to work within these new guidelines. We all want to be more successful.” See, isn’t that better?

So, fast forward. Three years ago, I’m invited to a Christmas party with a bunch of former co-workers. At the party was the boss who was in the room with the consultant….the one who said I had been uncharacteristically quiet. We’re sitting around, having a Christmas cocktail and swapping old stories and he says, “Hey, remember the time you basically told that consultant he was an idiot?” He was laughing; but believe me, his eyes weren’t smiling. People never forget. Please remember that. And please think of that when you find yourself in positions of disagreement or conflict. Be honest with your thoughts, but be effectively honest.

You’ve been cautioned over and over again about your internet presence. It’s important, so let’s emphasize that again. Despite my knucklehead nature, I’ve been in a position to hire people. We were closing in on a candidate for a high-pay, pretty prestigious position. We had actually drawn up a contract we were prepared to offer. We were impressed. We liked him. We thought he liked us. This was going to be a job with a high public profile here in Shreveport-Bossier. There would be a lot of conversation about community standards. What I’m about to say is common now, but in the timeframe we’re discussing, internet searches weren’t just automatically done. So, it was novel when in the meeting to discuss offering the guy the job, someone said, “Hey, have we done a Google search on him as a last check?” No one had thought about it, but it seemed like a good idea, so off to the Google! First hit: Photos of the guy in extremely provocative poses and clothing in a public setting. Talk about a chill. The temperature in that room dropped ten degrees in the snap of a finger. Needless to say, given community standards at the time, we went in a different direction. I have no idea if that poor guy ever knew what happed to what seemed like a sure thing.

Melinda Gates, speaking to a graduating class at Duke University, talked about social media. She said “if you make the moral choice to connect deeply to others…then your computer, your phone and your tablet will make it so much easier to do. I want you to connect, because I believe it will inspire you to do something, to make a difference in the world.”

There’s wisdom there, but I’d like to add a modifier: a POSITIVE difference. The guy who posted all those provocative photos made a difference, for sure. I can’t say with confidence it was positive.

You’ll hear a lot in the days and weeks ahead about doing what you love, pursuing your dream, being true to yourself. The trick is figuring out how to do that while getting along with your bosses, your co-workers, and your family.

Two of my closest friends decided in their middle-age years that they needed to go to counseling. Maybe were enduring cliché mid-life crises, but they revealed similar circumstances. Both had spent their lives as pleasers: Doing what mom and dad said, doing what teacher said, doing what the boss said, saying what they thought the wife wanted to hear…just to get along. In the moment, they got along just fine. They strung together decades of those moments; but it wasn’t until they realized that they rarely communicated what they really felt, what they really wanted, that they understood how much discontent they had been masking with their benign disingenuousness.

Be true to yourself as best you can. Compromise in relationships goes a long way toward success, in business and interpersonally. But compromise can’t be one-way proposition. It’s okay to express your preferences in a respectful tone. It’s okay to say “You know what. I don’t feel like fried chicken tonight. Can we have hamburgers instead?” Look, pick your battles. Don’t cave in to the chicken.

Mid-life crisis has been mentioned, but that’s down the road for most of you. You’re more likely experiencing a quarter-life crisis. The first time I ever heard that term was in a John Mayer song, ‘Why, Georgia?” We can quote the brilliant philanthropist Melinda Gates or a cultural icon like Oprah Winfrey, who talks about branding yourself, saying “let excellence be your brand. When you are excellent, you become unforgettable. Doing the right thing, even when nobody knows you’re doing the right thing, will always bring the right thing to you.” I mean, that’s Oprah!

But, on this day, for you…I’ll quote that modern-day poet John Mayer, who seems to capture what you might be feeling.

"I rent a room and I fill the spaces with wood in places to make it feel like home But all I feel's alone It might be a quarter life crisis. Or, just the stirring in my soul. Either way I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdictless life. Am I living it right? Everybody is just a stranger, but that’s the danger in going my own way. I guess it’s the price I have to pay.”

Steve Jobs, the co-founder of Apple, touches your life every day, even after his death. Most people I know don’t go a day without touching an Apple product. He famously said “your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your inner voice.” That’s exactly what my mid-life crisis friends discovered they were doing. So, take that with you. Remain true to yourself, but respectful to those who are influencing you. Think “what will this person say about me thirty years from now?” It may seem ridiculous right now. It did to me, but trust me…it’s not ridiculous, it’s essential.

Everybody wants to be liked, to be respected. But, here’s a sad fact of life: You will meet people who don’t like you from the beginning. Maybe you look different from them or you think different from them or you love someone and they don’t understand how or why. Maybe you have a different view of religion from them; Or, simply because you are competing with them. Competition is very productive, but it can also be unhealthy and mean-spirited. Those things are out of your control. But you can control how you react to them. Believe me, rivals and competitors have a funny way of becoming allies and co-workers.

Do everything you can to rise above the unpleasantness. Moreover, do what you can to not contribute to it. The best way to be true to yourself is to present yourself with dignity and self-respect. It’s hard to do sometimes, especially when you’re surrounded by enormous personalities.

Let’s go back to that legendary meeting with the consultant. What was the takeaway from the unacceptable behavior displayed in that room? Be prepared accept criticism gracefully. You will be working with and for people who know a lot more about what you’re doing that you do. You might not believe it in the moment, but it’s probably true. There’s a line between confidence & assertiveness and arrogance & egotism. Learn to accept criticism and coaching from people who have been blazing that trail for you.

You can find inspiration in the most unexpected places. My current boss asked me to represent the organization at a luncheon for a local non-profit. I admit I was happy for the free lunch, but my expectations were low. I was thinking “those functions are all the same. They need money.” But, no, they had a keynote speaker who was just excellent. I can’t remember his name, but he had a lasting impact on me when he said “If you’re the smartest person in your circle, it’s time to find a new circle.” I came to that realization late in life, but it’s absolutely true.

Where I work now, every day I encounter people who have far more formal education, world experience, and intellectual heft than I ever hope to have. And you know what? I’ve been happier and more intellectually stimulated over the last decade than I ever was all those years working in a TV newsroom. I had a lot of fun. A couple of my closest friends to this day were made in that setting. I wouldn’t trade those experiences, but if I got a do-over, I would modify my own behavior and choices significantly.

My father-in-law once told me it’s okay to fail. I’m glad, because I’ve done that more often than I care to admit. In your life and career, disappointment is inevitable. Rejection and failure will present themselves to you, and they’re never welcome. Ask for help. Ask for criticism. Ask for coaching. Accept them with grace and then do it for somebody else. That’s really all I want to accomplish in our time together today: to present you with stories of failure and frustration and to let you know that you can overcome them; but it’s better to do whatever you can to avoid them in the first place.

Following one of my legendary knucklehead moments, I was quick to apologize. Remember, people have a great capacity to forgive; but rarely will they forget. In that moment, the person to whom I was apologizing for saying something stupid or arrogant of inappropriate thanked me, but was still mad and said “look you can’t un-ring the bell.” Wow. All these years late, my ears are still ringing from that one.

Remember that, and maybe thirty years from now think of this moment. Hopefully a couple of these stories will have saved you from yourself. I wish great success and happiness to you all. Enjoy your celebration.

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Taking it (Big) Easy for the (Big) Game

(New Orleans) - Somehow, I have stumbled my way into the Crescent City where I found giant, lighted Roman numerals floating in the Mississippi River. The Super Bowl has returned to Louisiana, and not a minute too soon.

The last time we all assembled in New Orleans for a Super Bowl, we were still quaking from the September 11th terrorist attacks. At the time, February of 2002, the idea of a follow-up attack was still very real and most of us held our collective breath at the realization that the Super Bowl could be an enticing target for the bad guys. The Superdome was surrounded by barricades, fences and soldiers with machine guns. This year, security is elaborate, but has the appearance of being more subtle. Vehicles are not allowed near the Dome, which made for quite a hike into the stadium.

Experience has taught us to arrive early, so it was a full three hours before kickoff when we found our seats (or should I say perches?).

A lot of people turn a trip to the Super Bowl into a week-long party, and why not? For most, it's a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But, for me, every Super Bowl trip has been a long weekend. It's really is all about the game. New Orleans is New Orleans, and as wonderful as it is to visit; it's always here. So, it's the game itself that sets the trip apart. Undeniably, though, part of the experience is watching thousands of visitors who are in New Orleans for the first time take it all in. This means a trip to the French Quarter to watch people. There are plenty to see.

This trip has had a different tone for me. Instead of staying in the Central Business District, where the action is, we're in The Garden District. The atmosphere is decidedly more laid-back and I've decided I like it. Just a mile or so from the apartment we're borrowing, there's a little art gallery. The proprietor has a familiar name.

Rebecca Rebouche has carved out quite a name for herself as an artist, and we've wanted an original piece from her for some time. Finally, we accomplished something. Check that off the list of things to do.

There are several people I know hanging around, and they are mercilessly making fun of me. This is New Orleans, after all,one of the best places in the world to have an all-night party. But, I've been hopping on the outbound streetcar about 9:30 each night to find my way back to The Garden District for a nice, quiet evening.

They can have all the fun they want, even at my expense. I'm well-rested and ready to enjoy the game. That is, after all, what it's all about.

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Communing With Nature (Really?)

It’s not clear how our children developed a love for the outdoors: camping, hiking, camp fires, that kind of thing. My wife and I never took them camping and the last time I remember spending the night in a tent, I was a Boy Scout. So, go figure how our daughter decided to spend her fall break from school on the south rim of the Grand Canyon with a group of friends.

This included a 12-mile hike into the canyon, which was apparently arduous. But they were all smiles after spending several nights in a tent.

This week, her older brother is in Joshua Tree National Park in southeastern California, which seems to involve a lot of cactus and rocks. In the brief communication we have received, we’ve been advised he and his companions are hurting a little from the hikes and climbs.

We’re grateful, because during a long weekend visit with him, he took us on a 7-mile mountain hike that involved a relatively easy uphill stroll.

It was the first time we had seen him in months. He seems to be settling into his California lifestyle quite nicely. Who can blame him? He’s about an hour and a half from Los Angeles, 45 minutes from San Diego, living in a valley where access to minor mountains is mere moments away. And of course, there’s the beach.

Just a few miles in the opposite direction: vineyards. We saw all these things in just two full days.

So, think about it: Within a couple of hours, he can have just about anything he’d want, with terrific weather to boot. Why would he come back to north Louisiana? Family? Sure, we’re here; but we’re good to visit. He has friends where he is and he seems to be making more all the time.

I have to admit, we had a really nice time on our visit. The change of scenery did us some good. It doesn't look like he’s coming back any time soon, so maybe we’ll rack up some frequent flyer miles to go take another hike.

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Down By the River

Half a continent apart, my son and I both spent a day by the water. For me, it was the Red River, where people were paddling for a purpose at the dragon boat races.

The Dragon Boat Festival is a major event presented to the community by The Rotary Club of Shreveport. As a good Rotarian, I do what I can to participate. And since my abilities are so limited, I volunteer to do something I know how to do: talk. Standing around all day making announcements and calling races...that's pretty easy.

It was a family affair, because my ever-the-good-sport wife worked a shift at the registration tent. It was fun, except when one disgruntled paddler, a loud-mouth with crooked teeth and whole lot of tattoos, angrily confronted me for making what he considered to be a misleading announcement. The trouble was, I hadn't done it. I still don't know what happened or what he thinks he heard, but the encounter was unpleasant. I can make my own mistakes; I certainly don't need anyone accusing me of something I didn't do. It didn't ruin my day, but it put a blemish on things.

I bring this up not to diminish the dragon boat festival (with that lone exception, it really was a fun day), but merely to magnify the contrasting waterside experiences in play here. From the banks of the Red River being yelled at by a roid-raged, orthodontically challenged tat freak to the sandy shores of Southern California, where my son was spotted cavorting with his buddies.

Is there anything more to say? I mean, that photo looks like an ad for clothing store in the mall or something. They appear to be very relaxed. I think he won the day.

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We Have To Get Out More

Maybe there’s an end in sight to the summer malaise that has gripped us for weeks. With the exception of a nice weekend at the lake with old friends in early August, we have basically done nothing. You know your life has become boring when the biggest ongoing event is watching a visiting cat acclimate to the house.

Our son’s little buddy has finally emerged from his old room and is slowly socializing with the family. For a long time, she had to carefully observe things from high above while doing her best gargoyle impersonation.

All the while, her owner is kicking up his heels in southern California. We have seen exactly one photo of him, but he seems happy with friends wearing a funny hat in a diner.

He has already moved once since he relocated to the west coast. We have no real inkling if or when he will return. So, we remain on the brink of becoming the crazy cat people, with three felines hissing and scratching their way around the edges of our lives. The visiting cat had never set foot outside of our son’s apartment before she moved in with us. She finally worked up the courage to step outside. Imagine what it must have been like to be four years old and feel the wind for the first time.



Our daughter continues to be perfectly content with her life in Texas. School and work are dominating her, to be sure. She has actually come home since she got back from Europe. She was in town approximately 18 hours, enough time to string up a hammock in the back yard.



Yep, that about sizes things up. Football season is here, which means extra work for me. I’m doing a Friday night scoreboard show on a local radio station. If you add the ages of my broadcast partners, you still don’t quite hit my number…but they’re good kids and the show is fun.



Especially for my wife, who has known from the beginning that she’s on her own on Friday nights in the fall (Don’t think for one second that I don’t realize she actually likes it). I’m also part of the broadcast crew for a local high school, which means frequent absences on Thursdays and Saturdays. Sometimes, my bride comes with me.



Fall also means recreational football trips, and certainly we’re looking forward to a few of those. Although, I don’t think we’ll make as many as we have in the past. Getting older isn’t easy, and we’ve discovered these days that it takes us longer to recover from those weekend road trips. Plus, we have cats to feed.

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Are You Ready For Some Theology?

I'm still recovering from the longest live broadcast of my media career. I want to say "we hit the air..." but in the 21st century media world, we actually didn't. It was a live webcast, which felt exactly like an over the air broadcast, but it was internet delivered. So, we hit the net at 9:45 a.m. and signed off at 1:17 p.m.

The venue was not a stadium or ballpark, though. It was a cathedral.

The occasion was the consecration of a new bishop for the Episcopal diocese of Western Louisiana. I was asked to host/ narrate as the service went along. And went long. The procession, er, processions...there were three of them...took a full half-hour. Then, there was a full service including an uplifting and entertaining sermon that lasted about twenty minutes, communion for a full cathedral, and the consecration itself.


Dignitaries came in from all over the state and the country. This required the host to carefully prepare. I approached it just like a ball game...doing pre-event interviews, getting to know the players(?), making extensive notes, creating boards, and spreading them out in the broadcast booth.

It was made easier by the fact that I am acquainted with the new bishop and had stories to tell based on conversations with him over the last four years. I have to admit it was fun to do. But, more than that, it was an honor.


Before the webcast, I was extraordinarily nervous. This brought to mind my late father-in-law, who was an Episcopalian priest. I admitted to him one time that I rarely got butterflies before going on live radio or TV, or before speaking to a crowd. I also confessed that it surprised me a little that every time I have something to do at church, I get sweaty palms. He said "that's because you're doing God's work. If you're not nervous, then something's wrong."
Before the consecration, I actually worked up a little sweat.

And I admit to succumbing to emotion a couple of times during especially poignant parts of the service. My job was to describe to viewers what they were seeing, presuming that some of them didn't understand the meaning of many things happening. I tried to explain things as I understood them; but given the fact we were discussing several holy mysteries, I felt inadequate.


It was about the new bishop, though, not about me. One of the things we discussed in advance was the exact moment that I should stop referring to him as the "bishop elect" and start calling him "Bishop." When it came, that was one time I had to work to hold it together. I can only imagine how he felt.

 

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The Tail of the Discontended Kitty

While our son is off finding himself, "manning up" in California, our assignment is to deal with what he has left behind. This means a pile of boxes containing the remnants of his apartment and, more significantly, his cat.

When he first moved out on his own, he wanted a pet. I strongly advised against it, because I knew something like this would happen. He was 19 and his life would take twists and turns he couldn't foresee, like moving far away to an environment inhospitable for a house cat. But he didn't listen to me. How could he when he saw this?

At the time, he got the tabby and his mother grabbed the calico. They're sisters and for a day or two they frolicked together at the family home.

Then, my son took his kitten into the dungeon otherwise identified as his one-bedroom apartment, where she has lived all of her life, apparently contentedly and sometimes cutely.

Now, with her Daddy far away for an extended period, the poor cat is apparently failing to adjust to her new (much better) surroundings. Despite the presence of her sister, for whom she has forgotten all affection, and another older cat, she's quietly keeping to herself. She's surrounded by her stuff: scratching post, blanket, litter box, food, some of our son's clothes; but she's staying in full feline freakout mode. She's staying under his bed at our house, hissing at anyone or anycat who comes near.

There has been the slightest progress. We did a spot check on her, as we do frequently, and found her once ON the bed instead of under it. We are bringing her treats, which she eats (but not while we're watching). We speak to her in soothing tones, say her name a lot and try to pet her. Then, she does this weird semi-meow, semi-growl thing that I've never really heard before.

Maybe she'll come around. There's a lot of fun to be had for a cat at our house. Right now, she's not really easy to love. He says she's nice. She has it inside somewhere. Just look at that cute little thing we met when she was a kitten.

As for our son, I don't think he's worried about it. The first photos I've seen of his new life involved a hot tub and girls in two-piece bathing suits. That's a way to man up.

Oh, well, his cat's not any trouble as long as she stays under the bed. Hopefully, she can adapt to her new surroundings as fast as her owner apparently has.

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The Late But Great Departure

When you have little kids, you realize that there's a really good chance they'll move away some day. Thinking about it prepares you, but when your first-born and only son packs up his car and moves half a continent away, it's not easy.

At 22, our son is long gone...relocated to a place you never heard of somewhere in California about halfway between Los Angeles and San Diego. We're not sure when or if he will be back. He plans to "explore the west coast," and we fully support the project. If he doesn't break away now, there's a chance he never will. Since he stayed in town for college, this is his first try at separation from home and family. He says he hopes to "man up a little" during his extended absence.

He resigned from his job, didn't renew the lease on his apartment and spent a couple of weeks on a farewell tour. He was feted by friends.

He extended invitations to many to visit him once he gets settled, and just about everyone wants to go to California; so maybe he will have company. He's situated about 45 minutes from the Pacific Coast and living in the valley of some minor mountains. Why wouldn't they come visit?

As his departure neared, there was a great outpouring of affection, declarations of love and plenty of hugs.

All of which made actually leaving a little more difficult, but he did it. While his mother was all smiles at a farewell dinner, her demeanor changed when she saw his tail lights in the distance.

I decided to go paternal and give him a speech that went something like this:

I've worked with a lot of people your age over the years, in health care and broadcasting. Most of them have similar goals. They either want to make it big in a major city or at a network; or if that doesn't work out, they want to get to their home market. At some point, almost everybody wants to go home. There's a reason the majority of people live within a hundred miles of where they were born. You need to do this, and I'm glad you are. You will get homesick. Fight through it the first and second time. But if you find you've overly romanticized all this, coming home is not a failure; it's a success. It means you tested yourself and discovered who you are. If you get there and love it, make a home for yourself and we'll come visit.

When he stuck around after high school, we expressed confidence that he would be okay. More than okay, really. I remember my wife and I saying he's so smart and such a good kid that he will be great, but maybe a little late.

It is a little unusual that even though he's two years older than his sister, we had to adjust to her departure two years before he decided to take off.

I said so long to him with an attitude something like "Here's your sword. Here's your shield. Go forth and conquer." I hope he does.

While all of that was certainly sincere, I'm still walking around with a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach. Our daughter lives three and a half hours away. This means any given morning, we could wake up and go have lunch with her or hustle to her rescue if she needs us.

There's a desert and a major mountain range between us and our son. Maybe it's what he needs.

Maybe he's not the one who needs to "man up" about it.

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The Blessing of a Lifetime

"He looked me directly in the eye and gave me a blessing."

Our daughter's day started in a breathtaking way as she snapped the photo above. She was inside St. Peter's Basilica for a Mass celebrated by The Holy Father. And Holy Cow! What a view she had!

To be there for the mass is one thing, to be inside is another. To be that close is almost unthinkable. She said "there were tons of people outside, lots of them monks and nuns. I felt guilty for being inside while they weren't."

I think it was just a little sting of guilt, because she is quite aware of the extraordinary nature of this experience. Besides, many of the nuns had their own close encounters.

This Holy Mass for the solemnity of St. Peter and St. Paul was a history-making affair. The Sistine Choir and the Westminster Abbey Choir sang together for the occasion. It's the first time in more than 500 years that the Roman Catholic and Anglican churches had formally worshiped together in any way. By all accounts, it was breathtaking.

And there was my daughter, seated with one of her traveling companions in the transept with an unobstructed view of the Pope himself. The setting was undeniably spectacular.

This was a completely unexpected once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. She and the other TCU students have had a tour guide during their stay in Rome. Less than 24 hours before the Papal Mass, the tour guide said she had two tickets available to it for anyone who wanted them. Our daughter alertly jumped at the chance, but never dreamed it would turn out like this.

Usually eloquent, she was driven to exclamatory language to describe what she was feeling. Here are some choice quotes:

"Holy crap. That was the coolest thing ever."

"Oh yeah. We were freaking out."

And my favorite: "I think you're going to jump off a bridge when you see my pictures."

Let's say I've been excited all day. I've been distracted. I've had chills. I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around her good fortune. Naturally, I've e-mailed a couple of key photos to Catholic friends and relatives; and the replies have featured all kinds of capital letters and exclamation points.

This is something I'll never forget and I wasn't even there. This is likely an experience so profound that she and her friend will not be able to adequately explain it to others. I'm so happy for them.

She says she has been "ridiculously, unreasonably lucky" on this trip, and this is concrete evidence of that.

There's also the remarkably contrasting experiences she had in about an 18-hour period. The evening before, the soccer team from Italy improbably won its way into the Euro Cup final...igniting wild celebrations across the country. Guess who was right in the middle of it....

She said it actually got too crazy and they retreated to the safety of their hotel. Good judgment there.

One of the people who received the photos I sent said "She's living such a blessed life." I think she would agree, especially after the guy in the pointy hat made eye contact with her and made the sign of the cross. After all, as another friend put it so eloquently: "I mean, it's the freaking Pope!!"

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