Category / observations

USA! USA! USA! USA!

For the first time in nine years, Team USA has recovered the Ryder Cup. Jack and I spent our Sunday on the grounds of Valhalla, walking amongst the crowds and 24 of the best golfers in the world.

We were there as Anthony Kim produced the spark that propelled his teammates forward as his relentless play bested Sergio Garcia. We were there when team captain Paul Azinger skidded his cart to a halt in the 13th fairway to pump up the crowds. We were there as the crowds welcomed homegrown favorites Kenny Perry and JB Holmes at every step and we were there shouting “Boooo!” as Weekly made one great shot after another, including a towering drive on 17th that he turned away from as he tried to expend the adrenaline flowing through him. We were there when Hunter Mahan made a 50-foot birdie putt to win the 17th and the crowd roared and roared and roared…

We were there to watch Furyk and Jimenez tee off on the first and we were standing in the 17th fairway as they hit their approach shots into the 17th green, securing the final point to win the trophy.

It’s my turn now, but I hope in years to come Jack will look back on this day and say, “We were there.”

Inside a Norman Rockwell painting

I’m sitting in the front yard, saved from the heat by the shade of the maple and elms, watching seven kids running a lemonade stand near the street. They’re selling raspberry lemonade for twenty-five cents a cup, probably losing a nickel with each transaction. But the lessons they’re learning have nothing to do with economics. They’re plainly exercising the real world skills of negotiation, persuasion, compromise and teamwork. Customers not required.

The wind is picking up, smoke billows from a neighbor’s burning pile of sticks, and the serenade of little voices continues unabated, non-stop, ever-sweet. If, like Rockwell, I could paint, I would paint this picture. I’ve tried to photograph it. I briefly considered video. But in the end, I opted to just pay attention, to record it in my memory, realizing that all attempts to capture it any other way would be wholly imperfect.

Drop and give me 100 pushups!

Or, as Chief Petty Office Paet used to say in boot camp, “Pushup position, hut!” (Although the exclamation mark may be misplaced, he was a smallish Filipino guy who never raised his voice.) So the days of actually doing 100 pushups at once are several years behind me. Until now, that is.

I stumbled upon OneHundredPushups today and I’m inspired that slugs like me (and yes, even you) can aspire to do 100 pushups in just six weeks using the plan created by Steve Spiers. I’m starting today. Char will start today. I’ll have the kids start today.

Why don’t you start today, too?

[Take the 100 Pushups Challenge]

What's going on at Rare Bird?

Quite a lot, actually. We’ve added a few great people to the staff, brought on a few new clients, and are working diligently to complete and launch a very cool, completely new e-commerce platform with direct fulfillment integration for a well-known Ivy League university. (More on that later.)

While preparing for a presentation a few weeks ago, I was compiling a list of the sites we’ve launched so far in 2008. They include (in no particular order):

Stay tuned, there are more in the works!

Just when you think they're not listening…

I came home the other night from a ride during which I’d taken a fairly nasty tumble off my bike. I walked in the door covered in dirt and sweat and bleeding from several places. (I’m pretty sure I looked better that I felt.)

Jack looked at me and said, “Dad, what happened to you?”

I quickly recapped the story in all the dramatic fashion I could muster. He looked at me thoughtfully and then said, “Well, at least you got right back up on the horse, right Dad?”

What I was thinking was that I was a few miles from home, in the middle of the woods with darkness falling all around me and no one else on the trail. I didn’t have much choice but to get back on the horse.

Instead, I said, “That’s right, Jack. You gotta get right back on the horse.”

So when we think they’re not listening, they probably are. More importantly, however, they’re watching.