For years, I heard tales. Every Tuesday - Friday, unless in court, my father left around 11:50 to meet his cronies. The location and number varied; they bounced around from Chardon establishment to Chardon establishment, spending an hour talking sports and politics, bantering and reminiscing. I went the day before Thanksgiving last year, but the crowd was slim, so you can imagine my excitement when, due to my completely open schedule, I was able to join the annual Festivus luncheon at BLT (Bass Lake Tavern), one of the finest restaurants in town. Indeed, the experience was all I hoped it would be.
Dad and I entered; he introduced me to Bill. I had met Ed at yesterday's lunch (I was trying to enjoy as many of these as possible). Both heartily welcomed me, and we took our seats to wait for Dave and Joe. They soon joined, and it was not long before someone brought up Oberlin. My dad had attended one of the most liberal colleges in America, and the school recently made headlines because its students protested supposed cultural culinary appropriation. The Banh Mi was apparently not up to Vietnamese standards. I wonder if the protesting students realized that the "American" hamburger at most college cafeterias is not up to standards either. Dad had no defense for his alma mater.
We perused the menu. The reuben was on special, likely $14, and probably worth the extra $3 on such a special occasion. Dave pointed out it didn't have Thousand Island dressing, but a unique sauce. Still pretty good - just not Thousand Island. Bill ordered the vegetable soup and fruit, and the table turned their heads. He immediately defended his selection: he had indulged the day prior and had a McDonald's McMuffin that morning. We spared his man card.
Marc came late, but immediately made his presence known. He referenced the accusations against Bill Cosby, and my dad steered the conversation in another direction, protecting my ears. "She chose to come," Dave pointed out. Indeed, I was more than satisfied to be a fly on the wall, wherever the conversation led.
Regardless, we turned to other news. A skier had died at a Jackson Hole resort. Only good skiers die, because they take risks. This one, however, may have hit a tree stump rather than a tree, which could make the resort liable. This became a short legal discussion on whether the resort would be exonerated from the death or deemed negligent. I think that was the gist, at least. The table consisted of four attorneys and two Chardon business owners, so the chance of legal jargon was pretty high. Of course, the attorneys all dabbled in "clean" law. Estates, trusts, wills and such. Not the messy stuff.
We talked about the family businesses - an auto dealership, owned by Ed, and a funeral home, owned by Marc. Both advertised locally.
Ed told the story of his 88 year-old father. He asked Ed why he always saw commercials for the funeral home but never for the auto dealership. Ed responded, "Looks like both our demographics are working." We laughed.
In this crowd, you had to be able to laugh at yourself, too. Dad brought up his diet, which is akin to the federal budget. He was supposed to gain eight pounds, he only gained five, so he lost three pounds.
The table shared the same high school alma mater, Chardon High. Since everyone played sports - some, "legends in their own mind" - the glory days emerged. In particular, while Dad was the only person to have scored two points for the opposing team, Marc was the only person to have been kicked off the basketball team twice. Marc did play his senior year, though, and the team was twice as good as Bill's senior year. They won two games instead of one.
High school athletics remained an integral part of life, and we talked about Kareem Hunt, the Willoughby South phenom who was excelling at Toledo University. Dave asked if anyone would see Concussion. No one really said one way or the other, though we did discuss the feasibility of concussion proof helmets being created, manufactured and bought at a high school level. If they worked, then yes, people will buy them, but kids won't stop playing football. Then there were the varsity jackets. Back in the day, if you were at the mall, and you had a Chardon varsity jacket, and a Mentor guy had a varsity jacket, you knew you both played sports. Not now. Anyone could buy a varsity jacket, and stitch any activity on it - equestrian, for example. This just didn't seem right. Those jackets were a symbol. They were earned.
Politics entered conversation once. We were discussing Ed's New Years Eve gala, and someone asked if they should bring anything, including their wives. Only joking, of course, and when I told him I would include it in my blog*, he asked me to spell his name correctly. This is why there are no last names - I have no idea how to spell them. Apparently, a local 70s politician also insisted the papers spell his name correctly. He was running for every position in the county, but he was a Democrat, so he barely stood a chance, no matter how many places his name was on the ballot. He didn't win.
I didn't want to leave the conversation for a second, but I had to excuse myself to use the restroom. When I returned, Marc was telling the story of his father surviving World War II. After being shot in the knee and shoulder, he dove behind a pile of horse manure, which shielded him from the bullets fired. The beam from the building collapsed and narrowly missed him. At that point, he knew he would survive. The doctors wanted to amputate his leg, but that was out of the question - he didn't care if it was dangling. He still played football when he returned.
I did join the conversation a couple of times. Bill asked about Jim Lyons, one of Dad's college roommates, because he was an attorney in the area. I told the story of Jim learning to juggle in college. He was so excited, until Dad walked in, grabbed a shoe, a banana, and some other random object and started juggling. "If you can't juggle, you aren't an athlete," Dad stated, matter-of-factly.
We talked about family. Ed's daughter graduating college, Bill's son joining his practice, Joe's granddaughter on the professional tennis circuit, Dave's family cramming into his home for the holiday. And Dad bragged about me. I liked that he was so proud, although I was not immune to ridicule. Dave held that even if I had a scholarship to Michigan, at the end of the day, it was still Michigan. I didn't mind. It seemed a rite of passage into the lunch club.
I don't know where life will lead me, but if I am in a place where, even after forty-some years, high school cronies share lunch like they're back in the cafeteria - well, I'd like that very much.
* I hope my recording of the events does not ban me from future lunches.
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Thursday, December 24, 2015
12 Days of B-School Apps
Last year, I wrote of the woes and annoyances of adulthood. As I sit at my parents' kitchen table, post niece and nephew Christmas tree sleepover, eating peanut butter and jelly, I couldn't complain if I wanted. Not even the Browns' sad excuse for a football team phases me. Right now, life is easy, and my biggest concern is what television series to binge watch, what book to read, and what holiday treat to eat. To be fair, these decisions can be quite hard.
... I really just wanted to share this picture. So much fun!
Over the years, I have addressed my illustrious career in terms of obedience, loneliness, confusion, trust. I have walked in faith, not knowing where the path was leading. As I plot the winter/spring of Anna, I think it only fitting to address gratitude. This year, instead of 12 Days of Adulthood, 12 days of B-School Apps will give a glimpse of how the Lord used a sometimes unorthodox path to lead me to graduate school. As always, it follows the tune.
12 months applying. Last year, I looked at my life, and I wasn't satisfied. I don't normally toss around cliche quotes*, but my favorite from Mark Zuckerburg is: "Am I doing the most important thing I could be doing?" It is easy to be satisfied with "I'm doing well," but this goes further. It demands more.
Of course, the answer to the most important thing is unique to everyone, and the entrant of significant others, marriages, children, other relationships often change that answer. I was in a unique position to pursue the most important problem I could be solving in my career. So I stopped looking at my life, and I looked to God.
11 days of fasting. We began fasting as a family earlier this year because my sister was awaiting a decision on a career opportunity. She asked for prayer, and Mother, the prayer champ she is, suggested fasting. God closed that particular door, but He used it to strengthen our family's relationship with one another and with Him - as well as open many other doors. Sometimes, I made it all the way to five o'clock on a Thursday, and sometimes, I had to eat at three so I didn't attack a coworker, but each time we fasted, one of our prayers was for a clear next step in my career.
10 months of managing. I have a huge amount of respect for the leadership of RKG, but when I sat in a team leader meeting, I looked around the table at people my own age, with similar experiences and similar backgrounds. I wanted different.
9 months of music. MusicToday, that is, but MusicToday didn't fit with the jingle. An interesting stint, and one that helped me define myself outside of RKG, build valuable relationships, and work with an empowering manager. Though brief, I grew more there than I would have elsewhere.
8 essays written. Each with an immense amount of help from my resident editor, Lydia. So, a shout out to my muse - who I wish I could take with me to remind me to be concise and avoid cliches.
7 fifty GMAT. The score I worked for, prayed for, and received.
6 city visits. Marked off my bucket list. I prayed for something to look forward to in the midst of this process, and God used my role as conference coordinator at VividCortex. I traveled to San Francisco, Boston, Portland, Prague, Budapest, Dubrovnik, absorbing culture, indulging in food, and experiencing nature in all its glory.
5 job transitions. Certainly not the path I would have chosen. But each position built a different skill set, showed me what I do and do not want in a job. Each position exposed me to different industries, forced me out of my comfort zone, and revealed my strengths and weaknesses.
At the beginning of the year, I dreaded the thought of another transition, especially because Charlottesville had become comfortable. Now, I am pumped to tackle another transition and apply the plethora of lessons I have learned thus far.
4 years of serving. I was never big on volunteering, but my time working with young women was amazing. Without fail, each time I doubted my time in Charlottesville, I received a text from a girl in my youth group, thanking me for my friendship. I learned so much from them, and the experience helped shape goals for my future.
3 doors closed. Well, one door was cracked. Harvard and Stanford rejected me, and Northwestern put me on their waitlist.
2 months of waiting. Absolute waiting. A point where I said, "God, I did this in faith, it is yours, I trust you with it."* During this time, God asked, "How much do you trust me?" My job at VividCortex ran its course, leaving me gainfully unemployed and not certain of my future.
And a full ride to Michigan. When I began the application process, I prayed for clarity. Yes, a part of me wanted the answer to be in Charlottesville. A part of me wanted to get accepted to Harvard or Stanford, so I could say I got into Harvard or Stanford. Part of me wants to stay on the waitlist at Northwestern to see if I get accepted. But I didn't pray for that. I prayed for clarity, and this is crystal clear. I am so grateful and excited.
Sidenote: Countless - Number of times I failed and disappointed throughout this process.
To some, this may simply be an account of hard work or good fortune, and indeed, I worked very hard and am fortunate. But this is so much more.
My favorite Christmas hymn is O Holy Night, and my favorite lyrics are, "A thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices." Last year, I was weary, and I will certainly be weary again. But the birth of Jesus, His absolute perfect life, and His death on the cross and resurrection offer hope. Looking to the cross, rather than our circumstances, gives us access to a God "who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us." This is merely a small testament to that power.
Merry Christmas, all!
* Yes I do.
* /God, if I don't get into grad school, we are going to have some serious chats.
* A lot harder than I am currently working
Over the years, I have addressed my illustrious career in terms of obedience, loneliness, confusion, trust. I have walked in faith, not knowing where the path was leading. As I plot the winter/spring of Anna, I think it only fitting to address gratitude. This year, instead of 12 Days of Adulthood, 12 days of B-School Apps will give a glimpse of how the Lord used a sometimes unorthodox path to lead me to graduate school. As always, it follows the tune.
12 months applying. Last year, I looked at my life, and I wasn't satisfied. I don't normally toss around cliche quotes*, but my favorite from Mark Zuckerburg is: "Am I doing the most important thing I could be doing?" It is easy to be satisfied with "I'm doing well," but this goes further. It demands more.
Of course, the answer to the most important thing is unique to everyone, and the entrant of significant others, marriages, children, other relationships often change that answer. I was in a unique position to pursue the most important problem I could be solving in my career. So I stopped looking at my life, and I looked to God.
11 days of fasting. We began fasting as a family earlier this year because my sister was awaiting a decision on a career opportunity. She asked for prayer, and Mother, the prayer champ she is, suggested fasting. God closed that particular door, but He used it to strengthen our family's relationship with one another and with Him - as well as open many other doors. Sometimes, I made it all the way to five o'clock on a Thursday, and sometimes, I had to eat at three so I didn't attack a coworker, but each time we fasted, one of our prayers was for a clear next step in my career.
10 months of managing. I have a huge amount of respect for the leadership of RKG, but when I sat in a team leader meeting, I looked around the table at people my own age, with similar experiences and similar backgrounds. I wanted different.
9 months of music. MusicToday, that is, but MusicToday didn't fit with the jingle. An interesting stint, and one that helped me define myself outside of RKG, build valuable relationships, and work with an empowering manager. Though brief, I grew more there than I would have elsewhere.
8 essays written. Each with an immense amount of help from my resident editor, Lydia. So, a shout out to my muse - who I wish I could take with me to remind me to be concise and avoid cliches.
7 fifty GMAT. The score I worked for, prayed for, and received.
6 city visits. Marked off my bucket list. I prayed for something to look forward to in the midst of this process, and God used my role as conference coordinator at VividCortex. I traveled to San Francisco, Boston, Portland, Prague, Budapest, Dubrovnik, absorbing culture, indulging in food, and experiencing nature in all its glory.
5 job transitions. Certainly not the path I would have chosen. But each position built a different skill set, showed me what I do and do not want in a job. Each position exposed me to different industries, forced me out of my comfort zone, and revealed my strengths and weaknesses.
At the beginning of the year, I dreaded the thought of another transition, especially because Charlottesville had become comfortable. Now, I am pumped to tackle another transition and apply the plethora of lessons I have learned thus far.
4 years of serving. I was never big on volunteering, but my time working with young women was amazing. Without fail, each time I doubted my time in Charlottesville, I received a text from a girl in my youth group, thanking me for my friendship. I learned so much from them, and the experience helped shape goals for my future.
3 doors closed. Well, one door was cracked. Harvard and Stanford rejected me, and Northwestern put me on their waitlist.
2 months of waiting. Absolute waiting. A point where I said, "God, I did this in faith, it is yours, I trust you with it."* During this time, God asked, "How much do you trust me?" My job at VividCortex ran its course, leaving me gainfully unemployed and not certain of my future.
And a full ride to Michigan. When I began the application process, I prayed for clarity. Yes, a part of me wanted the answer to be in Charlottesville. A part of me wanted to get accepted to Harvard or Stanford, so I could say I got into Harvard or Stanford. Part of me wants to stay on the waitlist at Northwestern to see if I get accepted. But I didn't pray for that. I prayed for clarity, and this is crystal clear. I am so grateful and excited.
Sidenote: Countless - Number of times I failed and disappointed throughout this process.
To some, this may simply be an account of hard work or good fortune, and indeed, I worked very hard and am fortunate. But this is so much more.
My favorite Christmas hymn is O Holy Night, and my favorite lyrics are, "A thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices." Last year, I was weary, and I will certainly be weary again. But the birth of Jesus, His absolute perfect life, and His death on the cross and resurrection offer hope. Looking to the cross, rather than our circumstances, gives us access to a God "who is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us." This is merely a small testament to that power.
Merry Christmas, all!
* Yes I do.
* /God, if I don't get into grad school, we are going to have some serious chats.
* A lot harder than I am currently working
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Killing Time
Kellogg releases their decisions today, which makes this the second longest eight hours of my life. The longest eight hours, for interested parties, was driving home from Chicago after celebrating an over the hill birthday until four in the morning, waking up to watch a marathon, and eating a loaded stack of pancakes. The interstate was infinitely more awfully boring than usual.
Kellogg doesn't tell you how the decision will be released, so I am spending the afternoon glued to my computer and phone. I get that there's a process, but I wish the decision would greet me in the morning so I could enjoy my day. Even better, I wish the decision came two days early. I think if I ever run admissions, I will do just that. Incidentally, should I ever get pregnant (don't worry, I will get a date first), I plan to tell my doctor to tell me a due date that is about two weeks late, so I am pleasantly surprised when the baby comes early. Waiting sucks.
Anyways, I have already browsed the interwebs, taken multiple Buzzfeed tests, and signed up for healthcare. Now, I come to you. My current train of thought is something like this: I haven't been rejected yet, so that's good. Be mentally prepared for rejection. Why wouldn't they want me? Maybe they are saving me for last because they loved me so much. Maybe I should have used a different three words to describe my leadership. This is in God's hands. I am sick to my stomach. What can I eat to distract myself? It's cool to be this invested in something. I say this to say, sorry if this is not the most eloquent of blog posts.
Regardless of the outcome this week, I have a lot of free time on my hands in the coming months. Currently, my routine is: wake up, have a cup of coffee in front of my Christmas tree, read a bit, watch SportsCenter, go to the gym, shower, take a nap, prepare dinner, do one productive thing, wind down with some Netflix. It's a seductive routine, and I cannot become captive to its ease. So, I am noodling on some alternative uses of my time.
1. Move to New Zealand - one of the Buzzfeed tests told me that country best fit my personality.
2. Discover a hidden talent. Maybe I am actually a gifted singer. Or really good at creating recipes. Or I am extremely double jointed and could be a backup dancer.
3. Speaking of backup dancers... Become a groupie. I have always had a thing for guys with instruments.
4. Write a book. Couple of working titles: "Life According to Anna", "Dome Diaries", "The Pursuit" - there's no book titled this, which surprises me - "How to Navigate the Career and Relationship World from the Perspective of Someone Who Currently Has Neither."
5. Become a whiskey connoisseur. This has the two-fold benefit of giving me street cred and mystique.
6. Focus on my blogging. Step it up a notch. Be an opinion columnist. I have a lot of opinions.
7. Create new slang. I like adding "arino" to the end of words. Bloggerino, cheersarino, etc. Maybe I can make it stick.
8. Make money. Nah.
In all seriousness, I know what I want to do. I wasn't able to do it at my last job, and that is why I left. Easy decision. As for the next step, today will help shed some light on which way the door is swinging.
Kellogg doesn't tell you how the decision will be released, so I am spending the afternoon glued to my computer and phone. I get that there's a process, but I wish the decision would greet me in the morning so I could enjoy my day. Even better, I wish the decision came two days early. I think if I ever run admissions, I will do just that. Incidentally, should I ever get pregnant (don't worry, I will get a date first), I plan to tell my doctor to tell me a due date that is about two weeks late, so I am pleasantly surprised when the baby comes early. Waiting sucks.
Anyways, I have already browsed the interwebs, taken multiple Buzzfeed tests, and signed up for healthcare. Now, I come to you. My current train of thought is something like this: I haven't been rejected yet, so that's good. Be mentally prepared for rejection. Why wouldn't they want me? Maybe they are saving me for last because they loved me so much. Maybe I should have used a different three words to describe my leadership. This is in God's hands. I am sick to my stomach. What can I eat to distract myself? It's cool to be this invested in something. I say this to say, sorry if this is not the most eloquent of blog posts.
Regardless of the outcome this week, I have a lot of free time on my hands in the coming months. Currently, my routine is: wake up, have a cup of coffee in front of my Christmas tree, read a bit, watch SportsCenter, go to the gym, shower, take a nap, prepare dinner, do one productive thing, wind down with some Netflix. It's a seductive routine, and I cannot become captive to its ease. So, I am noodling on some alternative uses of my time.
1. Move to New Zealand - one of the Buzzfeed tests told me that country best fit my personality.
2. Discover a hidden talent. Maybe I am actually a gifted singer. Or really good at creating recipes. Or I am extremely double jointed and could be a backup dancer.
3. Speaking of backup dancers... Become a groupie. I have always had a thing for guys with instruments.
4. Write a book. Couple of working titles: "Life According to Anna", "Dome Diaries", "The Pursuit" - there's no book titled this, which surprises me - "How to Navigate the Career and Relationship World from the Perspective of Someone Who Currently Has Neither."
5. Become a whiskey connoisseur. This has the two-fold benefit of giving me street cred and mystique.
6. Focus on my blogging. Step it up a notch. Be an opinion columnist. I have a lot of opinions.
7. Create new slang. I like adding "arino" to the end of words. Bloggerino, cheersarino, etc. Maybe I can make it stick.
8. Make money. Nah.
In all seriousness, I know what I want to do. I wasn't able to do it at my last job, and that is why I left. Easy decision. As for the next step, today will help shed some light on which way the door is swinging.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
