My Granddaddy passed away this past Saturday morning (June 26, 2010). It wasn't tragic, nor was it a surprise. We all knew it was coming soon. My dad and uncle had already gone up to Tennessee to be with him and my Grandmother. Brent, Cyndi, Shaunna, Chris, Martha, and I all headed up there at various times on Sunday for the viewing/visitation, and the funeral service and burial were Monday.
Since Kimberly and Cohen couldn't make it (due to a nasty wasp sting on Cohen's eye...a story I've told 100 times since last week), I had a lot of time by myself on the way up to Nashville to think about Granddaddy and Grandmother. I flipped through the files of my memory and relived stories from my childhood. There was the time Brent, Shaunna, and I stayed at their house for a week while Mom and Dad were out of town, and Shaunna broke a handle on Granddaddy's treadmill. Granddaddy, rather than get mad about it (which we fully expected), used it to teach us a lesson in honesty and admitting your mistakes that I will always remember. There was the time (actually 2 times) we got lost in the expansive (well, they're expansive when you're 9 years old) woods behind their house. We were hysterical, screaming for help until finally we emerged from the woods into a field just around the corner from their yard.
There are a ton of stories I remember from being at Granddaddy and Grandmother's house. However, there is one that will forever stick out in my mind.
I was a very young adult...like 19...maybe even 18. We had gone to Tennessee at Christmas, as we do every year. For a while it had been hard to get everybody together at the same time. It just happened by chance, though, that everyone from Granddaddy and Grandmother down (Roy, Beverly, Michelle, Thomas, Carla, My Mom and Dad, Brent, Shaunna, and I) were all there at the same time. This had been very rare in previous years, as we grandchildren had started to grow older, get jobs, etc.
As we stood around the table before our Christmas feast (which, by the way, both of my grandmothers do an amazing job preparing), Granddaddy was about to pray over the meal before we chowed down. Before he prayed, he just said a few words about how glad he is that the entire family was there. He told us how thankful he is for all of us, and how special it is that we were all together. As he spoke, I saw something I had never seen before and I would never see again. Granddaddy got choked up. Tears filled his eyes as he gave his mini-speech.
Granddaddy was a stern man. He was very opinionated. I wouldn't call him a negative man, but there were plenty of things he didn't like, and he wouldn't shy away from telling you about them. On that day, though, I saw what was really important to him. Family.
While it's nice to branch out, do your own thing, make something of yourself, etc., we must not forget who we are and where we come from. My Mom and Dad, Brother, Sister, and I all live within about 30 minutes of each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my family (all sides of it...my mom's side, my dad's side, Kimberly's mom's and dad's sides). I am very grateful to be surrounded by the people I love, and I can only hope that it doesn't change as we all get older and have our own kids.
Enjoy your families and keep them close. If you didn't grow up in a family where a lot of love was present, I would encourage you to make that tradition your goal as you start your own family.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
...by the grace of God
A friend of mine posted a status update on FaceBook yesterday. He has since deleted the update, and I don't remember it verbatim, but it was something to the effect of...
Just saw a FB post, and it reminded me of how glad I am I left the South. People are racist, live entitled and unintelligent.
Of course, there were a myriad of comments under the status update along the lines of, "Not everybody!", and "I'm not!". My personal favorite was "Now I remember why I left the north. People make sweeping generalizations and are eliteists and unintelligent."
I was really surprised at how upset that guy's comment made me. I like to think that I generally have my reactions in check. It takes a lot to make me mad. On top of that, I have never been one to stand up for my "Southern heritage". For some reason, though, that one comment by my friend really made my blood boil!
I couldn't help but think more and more about the comment and how it made me mad, but really what I pondered was why it made me so mad. Of course, there was the insinuation that I'm a racist who, despite my unintelligence, feels entitled (to exactly what, I don't know). That insinuation, though, couldn't be what made me mad. I've never been one to become angry at accusations that aren't true. It's like a mom joke. They never offended me, because I know that my mama isn't so fat she uses a VCR for a beeper.
No, the more I thought about it, I realized what it is. It's that the South is pretty cool, and this guy just badmouthed it. Yeah, we have the heat and humidity...and the bugs. But do you know what else we have? Courtesy. Close-knit families. Sweet Tea. We open doors for each other at the gas station. When someone drops a twenty on the sidewalk we (well, most of us) pick it up, chase them down, and return it. We know how to work hard, but we know how to take it easy, too. On my initial lap around the park when I ride, nearly everybody gets a preliminary "hello" nod...and everybody returns the nod with a smile. Simply put, we're nice.
Sure, we have our downside. There are indeed racist people in the South. You know what, though? There are racist people in the North, Midwest, East Coast, West Coast, and everywhere between. Ignorance knows no regions. I ran into many more toothless rednecks over a weekend in Pennsylvania than I see in any given month in Georgia.
What also bugged me about what my friend said was the fact that he's from the south. If he was born and raised in New York City and had had this skewed perception of Southern people, I wouldn't care nearly as much. This guy, though, was one of my best friends when I lived in Tennessee. We used to race across Nashville - me in my mid-80's, beat-up Isuzu P'up and him in his mid-80's, beat-up Ford Bronco - to go hang out with my girlfriend and her friend that he was trying date. I look back fondly at that last summer before I moved to Georgia. We had as much fun as two 16-year-olds could probably have over the course of a summer. Now, he is 30. he and his (Georgia native) wife live in NYC, and racist, unintelligent, and entitled are his thoughts when he looks back at where he's from?
It just makes me sad, that's all. I don't generally beam with "Southern pride". I am, however, happy with how and where I was raised. It would take a lot of money to get me to go anywhere else, too (if you're offering, I can be reached at daniel.dorris@gmail.com).
Oh...and we're gonna rise again.
Just saw a FB post, and it reminded me of how glad I am I left the South. People are racist, live entitled and unintelligent.
Of course, there were a myriad of comments under the status update along the lines of, "Not everybody!", and "I'm not!". My personal favorite was "Now I remember why I left the north. People make sweeping generalizations and are eliteists and unintelligent."
I was really surprised at how upset that guy's comment made me. I like to think that I generally have my reactions in check. It takes a lot to make me mad. On top of that, I have never been one to stand up for my "Southern heritage". For some reason, though, that one comment by my friend really made my blood boil!
I couldn't help but think more and more about the comment and how it made me mad, but really what I pondered was why it made me so mad. Of course, there was the insinuation that I'm a racist who, despite my unintelligence, feels entitled (to exactly what, I don't know). That insinuation, though, couldn't be what made me mad. I've never been one to become angry at accusations that aren't true. It's like a mom joke. They never offended me, because I know that my mama isn't so fat she uses a VCR for a beeper.
No, the more I thought about it, I realized what it is. It's that the South is pretty cool, and this guy just badmouthed it. Yeah, we have the heat and humidity...and the bugs. But do you know what else we have? Courtesy. Close-knit families. Sweet Tea. We open doors for each other at the gas station. When someone drops a twenty on the sidewalk we (well, most of us) pick it up, chase them down, and return it. We know how to work hard, but we know how to take it easy, too. On my initial lap around the park when I ride, nearly everybody gets a preliminary "hello" nod...and everybody returns the nod with a smile. Simply put, we're nice.
Sure, we have our downside. There are indeed racist people in the South. You know what, though? There are racist people in the North, Midwest, East Coast, West Coast, and everywhere between. Ignorance knows no regions. I ran into many more toothless rednecks over a weekend in Pennsylvania than I see in any given month in Georgia.
What also bugged me about what my friend said was the fact that he's from the south. If he was born and raised in New York City and had had this skewed perception of Southern people, I wouldn't care nearly as much. This guy, though, was one of my best friends when I lived in Tennessee. We used to race across Nashville - me in my mid-80's, beat-up Isuzu P'up and him in his mid-80's, beat-up Ford Bronco - to go hang out with my girlfriend and her friend that he was trying date. I look back fondly at that last summer before I moved to Georgia. We had as much fun as two 16-year-olds could probably have over the course of a summer. Now, he is 30. he and his (Georgia native) wife live in NYC, and racist, unintelligent, and entitled are his thoughts when he looks back at where he's from?
It just makes me sad, that's all. I don't generally beam with "Southern pride". I am, however, happy with how and where I was raised. It would take a lot of money to get me to go anywhere else, too (if you're offering, I can be reached at daniel.dorris@gmail.com).
Oh...and we're gonna rise again.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
So I struggle with the urge every day to put something up on facebook about biking. How far I have been riding...how awesome it has been...how much weight I'm losing...etc. Sometimes I win the struggle and refrain from posting (because I'm sure most people find it annoying to read someone's status updates, when they're all about exercising). Other times I give in to the awesomeness I feel and post it regardless.
Anyway, a thought occurred to me this morning. Hey, I have a blog. This blog is purely about me. Coincidentally, it is also owned and operated by me. I can just say whatever I want.
So, here goes.
I've gone riding at a lot of parks over the past few weeks. I've been to Tribble Mill, Harbins, Rock Springs, Bay Creek, Mulberry, the other side of Mulberry, Ivy Creek Greenway, and Suwanee Greenway. All of them have their positives and their negatives. I have found, however, that there is one park that stands head and shoulders above the rest...Mulberry Park (actually, I think it's really Little Mulberry Park, but I don't really pay much attention to the signs when I arrive or when I leave).
The main trail at Mulberry is a 2.2-mile loop. With the exception of one stretch of about a quarter mile, it is all wooded (read: shaded...meaning I only sweat 3/4 of a gallon, rather than the full gallon). There are hills, but they aren't ridiculous, "chain-buster" type hills. They are just enough to challenge a rider to push harder, so as to not fall into complacency.
I ride this trail (usually) 4 laps in the morning and 4 laps after work. Each visit to the park results in 8.8 miles. I make sure to park at least 1/10 of a mile away from the entrance to the trail, so I can be honest in saying I rode a full 9 miles. This results in 18 miles a day. That's not too shabby if you ask me, considering that just a month ago, I was thrilled in averaging around 6 or so.
I don't really know that I'll be able to work this daily total up. This, however, is due to time constraints alone. I know it's probably frustrating for Kimberly when I don't get home every night until almost 7:00. I really appreciate her flexability and willingness to see me get into better shape...which brings me to my next point.
As I stated in my last (and so far, only) blog post about biking, I was not sure how much, if any, weight I had lost. Well, I know now. I have lost 23 pounds. As of Tuesday, June 15th, my weight was 267.0 lbs. I have no idea when the last time was that I was in the 260's. I definitely know I haven't been that low in the 6 years Kimberly and I have been married. I still have a long way (like at least 60 more pounds) to go, but so far I feel I'm off to a great start, and it doesn't seem nearly as daunting as it did a month ago.
Right now, I'm looking forward to a couple of things:
1) A week from this Saturday, I plan on going to ride the Silver Comet Trail. This starts in Smyrna, GA and goes all the way into Alabama. Naturally, I doubt I'll be able to ride all the way to Alabama, but I plan on starting around 8:00am, riding four hours, and turning around to ride back. Given my estimated average speed (and that this trail is mostly flat, from what I understand), I am estimating that I can cover somewhere from 60-70 miles just in one day. I'm pretty excited about it.
2) The following Saturday, Kimberly, Cohen, and I are leaving for the beach for a week, as we do every year with her family. Normally, this is a time when I let myself go, even more than normal. This will not be the case this year. I'm taking the bike with me. I plan on getting some BIG miles under me over the course of the week...and I won't have work hanging over me, limiting the amount of time I will have to ride.
Anyway, a thought occurred to me this morning. Hey, I have a blog. This blog is purely about me. Coincidentally, it is also owned and operated by me. I can just say whatever I want.
So, here goes.
I've gone riding at a lot of parks over the past few weeks. I've been to Tribble Mill, Harbins, Rock Springs, Bay Creek, Mulberry, the other side of Mulberry, Ivy Creek Greenway, and Suwanee Greenway. All of them have their positives and their negatives. I have found, however, that there is one park that stands head and shoulders above the rest...Mulberry Park (actually, I think it's really Little Mulberry Park, but I don't really pay much attention to the signs when I arrive or when I leave).
The main trail at Mulberry is a 2.2-mile loop. With the exception of one stretch of about a quarter mile, it is all wooded (read: shaded...meaning I only sweat 3/4 of a gallon, rather than the full gallon). There are hills, but they aren't ridiculous, "chain-buster" type hills. They are just enough to challenge a rider to push harder, so as to not fall into complacency.
I ride this trail (usually) 4 laps in the morning and 4 laps after work. Each visit to the park results in 8.8 miles. I make sure to park at least 1/10 of a mile away from the entrance to the trail, so I can be honest in saying I rode a full 9 miles. This results in 18 miles a day. That's not too shabby if you ask me, considering that just a month ago, I was thrilled in averaging around 6 or so.
I don't really know that I'll be able to work this daily total up. This, however, is due to time constraints alone. I know it's probably frustrating for Kimberly when I don't get home every night until almost 7:00. I really appreciate her flexability and willingness to see me get into better shape...which brings me to my next point.
As I stated in my last (and so far, only) blog post about biking, I was not sure how much, if any, weight I had lost. Well, I know now. I have lost 23 pounds. As of Tuesday, June 15th, my weight was 267.0 lbs. I have no idea when the last time was that I was in the 260's. I definitely know I haven't been that low in the 6 years Kimberly and I have been married. I still have a long way (like at least 60 more pounds) to go, but so far I feel I'm off to a great start, and it doesn't seem nearly as daunting as it did a month ago.
Right now, I'm looking forward to a couple of things:
1) A week from this Saturday, I plan on going to ride the Silver Comet Trail. This starts in Smyrna, GA and goes all the way into Alabama. Naturally, I doubt I'll be able to ride all the way to Alabama, but I plan on starting around 8:00am, riding four hours, and turning around to ride back. Given my estimated average speed (and that this trail is mostly flat, from what I understand), I am estimating that I can cover somewhere from 60-70 miles just in one day. I'm pretty excited about it.
2) The following Saturday, Kimberly, Cohen, and I are leaving for the beach for a week, as we do every year with her family. Normally, this is a time when I let myself go, even more than normal. This will not be the case this year. I'm taking the bike with me. I plan on getting some BIG miles under me over the course of the week...and I won't have work hanging over me, limiting the amount of time I will have to ride.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)