It's the little things....

My lovely and oh-so-generous wife mentioned this to me in passing. I had a slight understanding of the enormity of what she was about to do but...it's these little things the she does in life that go so far for so many other people.

Follow the two links and you will understand.

http://sites.google.com/site/milkforsophia/home

http://sites.google.com/site/milkforsophia/our-progress

I pulled a Dad

Hung out a little late at work on Thursday talking about cars with a Yeti guest. It was a good talk; he and I are pretty much on the same page with what we like. However, he is running an Audi S4 and a Porsche Boxster whilst I run a Volvo XC and a Series Land Rover.

Close, right?

Anywho...a good conversation. And then I climbed into my car and casually drove home without thinking of much else. As I pulled into the garage, I noticed Hope's car was not in her spot and that she wasn't home yet.

And then I realized something else.

I was supposed to pick up Emiko at 5:45 at school. But it was 6:00 and I was at home.

I pulled a Dad.

New wheels

I finally broke down and picked up a new pair of skates. My last pair were blown out after about a season and a half. I was over due.

As I prepped the new skates to get broken in, I looked at the naked white housing that holds the skate blade to the boot. You see, when Anthony passed, I added a black strip of hockey tape that encircled the heel of the housing to my old skates. As a hockey player through and through, it seemed like the right thing to do. The same pieces of black tape encircle the seat tubes of my bikes.

Every time I put my skates on, I pause for a moment and reflect on memories of my friend. I often touch the piece of tape as my homage to my lost friend. And it isn't sad thoughts, it's just a chance to remember.

Remember him.

Remember friendship.

Remember that life goes on.

But with the new skates I began to wonder how long the mourning process really is. Anthony is still in my thoughts. We all miss him and are getting to the point where we can laugh, joke and smile when we conjure up his memory.

Quite simply, I'm not ready to stop mourning. A close, close friend...my spiritual guide...pointed out that mourning has to last for four seasons. Until you make it that year and see the circle of life, see the fact that life goes on, you can't let go of mourning for that spirit. And this makes sense to me. It is more than religion, it is simply a way to keep myself on track over the course of the next year. It keeps my eyes open to birth, growth, decline and death.

Most of all, it let's me miss my friend.

I saw him in Vegas at Interbike. Probably not more than a few minutes after a fleeting thought passed through my head that this was the first trade show he had missed and that I hadn't brought a part of him to Vegas with me.

Instead, one of our partners brought him. There was a video playing at the Fox Suspension booth. As I paused to watch it, I realized it was showing clips from a press camp that Anthony had attended earlier this year. I was seeing shots of a race truck he got to ride in and take pictures of. As soon as the realization passed, I saw a shot with the Yeti demo truck in the background as confirmation. And then, a shot of Anthony setting up a bike.

I sat stunned with my eyes welling up (they well up now as I write this). At the same time, I was so happy to have had a chance to see him again. I'm sure the folks who put together the video have no idea of the significance of those shots.

To me, they were a suitable memorial to our friend.

Late night thoughts....

A close friend and I recently had a conversation that culminated in these final thoughts that are well worth sharing.

When the days of your life are shorter in front of you than they are behind, do you really want to have wasted so much of your time arguing with your wife, spending time away from your children and avoiding those people who mean the most to you?

Shoes - Part Deux

Emi is developing an Imelda Marcos style fetish for shoes. She searches for her shoes as the first thing she wants to put on in the morning. She wears mismatched shoes because she can't decide if one pair is better than the other. The finds socks (ours) that she wants us to pull on over her shoes. And then she stumbles around because the socks catch her feet on the floor.

Last night, she picked up one of my shoes (after we pulled on one of my over sized socks onto her miniature foot) and held her foot in the air until I succumbed and placed my shoe on her foot. She then tried to stand up and walk.

Didn't work.

She then found one of Hope's cycling shoes in the living room. Picked it up and handed it to me. And then sat on the floor with one foot in the air until I put Mom's shoe on her foot.

She still couldn't walk.

Simply put, Emi is so damn cute!

Baby Squirrel

Two nights ago, Emi, Gibson and I headed into the backyard to play. As Emi and I sat on the edge of our concrete patio watching Gibs romp with his ball, I saw him nearly step on a small gray object on the ground under the tree. I pulled him away and saw a baby squirrel on the ground, so young that its eyes were still sealed shut.

Hope came out and we sat there wondering what to do. She commented that she heard a bunch of squirrel noise earlier in the evening but just assumed Gibson was chasing the squirrels again.

We moved Gibson inside, and let him out into the front yard later on to do his business. I did a little research on the computer about baby squirrel care and finally settled on simply warming the baby and waiting for Mama squirrel to come down out of the tree to pick up her lost young one.

We started off with a Nalgene bottle filled with hot water and a few old diapers for the baby to curl up in. I then tracked down our heating pad and ran an extension cord into our back yard. As the baby squirrel warmed, it began to move around and Hope said it cried out a few times. We left it for the evening, wrapped in its swaddling with the heater on medium.

The next morning, its movements had slowed considerably. But we left the heater beneath it and I uncovered it so Mama squirrel would be able to spot her young one from the tree.

As soon as I was home yesterday evening, Emi and I went to check on the baby squirrel and it was gone. My assumption is that Mama came down and picked up her lost youngster. Could a predator have come and taken away the baby squirrel? Sure. But that isn't the happy ending I need to hold in my mind.

Nature can be so seemingly cruel. But the simple reality is that this is life in the wild. We humans aren't really that far removed from it all, though we do try to mitigate the cold and heat with our structures. We try to stave off hunger through industrial agriculture. We slake our thirst with a wide assortment of beverages. But it simply is about life and death. Our human touch on nature.

Ted Kennedy

Go in peace.

We thank you for your service, your tireless dedication to your state and your nation and for all your family has given for us.

You will be missed, revered and remembered.

Pax Vobiscum

If I didn't know, I would never have known

Our daughter loves being outdoors. And today turned out to be a perfect day to get her out for her first real hike. We had originally planned to meet up with a group and do a hike up Guanella Pass but after we arrived in Georgetown, we found out the pass was closed due to a rock slide. We all decided to head back toward the city and do a hike just outside of Evergreen. Just a short walk in the woods, really.

A couple miles up and a couple down. The final stretch of the hike is above tree line and it looks very exposed. Luckily, our weather held out and was gorgeous with only a few drops of rain as we approached the cars. The last bit of the climb is a scramble up a large pile of rocks to the summit. The view was tremendous.

Emi did a fantastic job. She rode in a pack on Hope's back while I carried all the supplies in my pack. Gibson did just as he should and we are still amazed at his trail manners. Well, I'm even more amazed now but more on that in a bit. On the hike down, Emi fell asleep and was zonked nearly from the summit to the cars. Not a bit of fussing! She enjoyed her outdoor meal, her conveyance and didn't even seem to be bothered by the flying ants that descended upon us at the summit.

The group we hiked with was fantastic. There was a wide range of skill and age on our hike and everyone made it to the summit without any problems. One man we hiked with has more trail credibility than many in this world. He has summited Everest along with the other seven summits. He's an accomplished climber as well, at home on vertical faces of rock. He rides mountain bikes. He wrestled in high school.

Wait. Wrestling in high school?

Well, it needs to be mentioned that he is the only blind person who has ever summited Everest. And less than 100 people have ever completed the Seven Summits challenge...one of an elite handful that have stood on top of the tallest mountain on each of the seven continents. He's planning a mountain bike trip where he isn't the stoker on his tandem mountain bike.

Blind.

Months ago, Hope's school held a silent auction (they do this every year). She bid us into a hike with Erik Weihenmayer. Erik's daughter goes to Hope's school. I was excited to join in a hike with such an accomplished climber. Of course, I promptly forgot about our plans and was surprised when Hope reminded me to keep this very Sunday open for our hike with Erik.

Erik walks quite like the rest of us. When he is outdoors, he moves more naturally over varied terrain than many of us. On some of his training hikes, he would have his daughter on his back in a Kelty pack...he is that smooth! We passed many hikers on the trail, some going up and some going down. Unless they recognized Erik, I don't think any of them realized that he couldn't see where he was stepping. While on the trail, his wife walked in front of him with a bell attached to her hiking stick. He followed right behind with two hiking poles. The only verbal communication I heard was when there was a low tree that he needed to duck under. Other than that, he found his own way. Even on the scramble to the summit, he, quite simply, followed her up the boulder field to the top.

So while I was in awe of our hiking companion, I was also so impressed with our little girl. Emiko is so comfortable when she is out of the house; it makes us both realize that we need to motivate ourselves to keep her outside and exploring this great state that is our backyard. Now that Emi has hiked with the best of them, she'll need to settle for walking with her Mom and Dad for a little while.

As for Gibson? Well, his trail manners are generally pretty good. But he has the ability to get underfoot sometimes. He stops to smell things and blocks the entire trail. Or he will lay down i n the shade and block the entire trail. Or he just stands there and looks at us wondering why we are forcing him to climb on such a hot day and blocks the trail. He won't move until we walk through him. While he blocks the trail.

This made me a bit apprehensive as we started the climb. Once again, our dog just seemed to know. I spent a good portion of the hike down walking with Erik, his wife and Gibson. We talked about politics, Colorado, education, college, mountain biking and many other things. Gibson meandered down the trail at our side. Sometimes by me. Sometimes by Erik. Never once did he get underfoot. And he never blocked the trail.

An apple a day

I had the pleasure of meeting up with Hope and Emiko at school today for a little lunch. Actually, I've been meeting them for lunch quite a bit as of late. It's been quite nice to see the girls and spend an extra hour with them every day!

I had an apple to finish my meal today and Emi was quite intrigued. She crawled over to me and watched as I took bites while I sat on the floor with her. I held the apple out for her and at first, she simply kissed it. But you could see she was intrigued with the flavor on her lips. She leaned in again and spent some time sucking on the apple. And then she began to gnaw on it. She loved the flavor and was ultimately able to work a piece of apple loose and chewed on that for a while.

Every day, something new. I feel blessed to have been there to watch her discover a new food!

Words that don't get used nearly enough

Asshat

Need I say more?

Make-A-Wish - A Little Yeti Love

This came to me this morning and it brought tears of happiness!

Hey Seth!

We just gave A--- his bike!!

I still have Goosebumps.

Imagine a lanky young man- 15/16 years old. This past year has been a living nightmare with treatments and relapse of Leukemia. Now fast-forward and you see this kid standing in the middle of a pizza joint, surrounded by his friends, eyes covered. This awesome of all awesomes bike gets rolled out to him. He uncovers his eyes… his knees wobble, as tears form he quickly wipes them away and says; “ this is… this is… SO AWESOME!!! This is better than I could have ever imagined. This is mine ?? Really? This is AWESOME!!! Thank you so much!!!!!!” His friends are now oooing and awwwing over this “AWESOME” sculpture of metal and rubber. They are all buckin with who should get to ride it and how fast can ya go? A--- was so excited. Then he saw the shirt and hat! Immediately the hat went on his head covering the fuzz that is sporadically starting to return to his head. Then one of his buddies showed him the book.

This sent him over the top!!! You guys are so wonderful- as A--- would say AWESOME!!! You really made a difference in A---’s life. Although he is suppose to hold off from riding for a bit- his mom okay’s him to take the bike home an do a quick tour around the property… just to test it out. Make sure it works and all!! A---, his parents, sister, and friends think you all are “da bomb” and so do we!

Thank you so much for making A--- ’s wish come true!!!

I really appreciate you!

What an incredible organization. Make-A-Wish originally contacted one of our shops and was directed to talk to us. Make-A-Wish paid for the bike but we did what we could to make it far more affordable for them. When we put this together with Make-A-Wish, I grabbed a hat and shirt and placed it in with the shipment. One of our guys put together the bike for A---, something we don't normally do here at the factory. And finally, I passed around a Yeti catalog and everyone here signed it for A---, including a couple of the World Cup riders who were here visiting at the time. Everyone here at Yeti was involved on this one and this message made everyone here super happy.

I wonder if, being a parent, this strikes home in a different way now. I don't just see A--- in my mind but also a set of parents and friends who have worked so hard to support him in such a trying time. I also see a group of guys and gals at a factory, who toil so hard to help make a company successful. To us, each Yeti frame loses some of that special charm since we see them every day. We overlook the fact that each of these bikes represents a dream to someone.

This time, each of us was involved in helping that dream come true for a child who has had to shoulder a burden no one ever deserves. We got to help, to see it through and be a part of making his special wish come true. There could not be a better day.

Shoes

As I had been scrambling around the house, trying to fix myself a little food and get on the way to hockey tonight, Hope called me up to Emi's nursery. I watched as Hope read a short picture book to our daughter, each page a word and a picture.

When Hope reached the page with "SHOES", Emi immediately tried to say shoes and turned and reached for her own shoes on the floor next to her.

Connections are being made. Not only in her developing mind but in our hearts as we watch her grow.

Words on a white board

We have all done it: written on a white board (well, maybe not ALL of us). What we write there is often simply a place holder, sometimes a joke, a lesson, and sometimes an idea for the future. But everything we record there is expected to be ultimately erased.

At work, I keep a 3-month calendar on a white board so the sales crew can see where the demo fleet is at any given time. When a month comes to an end, I clean the calendar, slide it across the board behind the others and put on the dates of a far off month. It's worked well for us this summer as the demo program has grown almost exponentially.

Several months ago, Anthony and I stood at the wall and made notes on upcoming festivals, trips and plans for where he would be going. We made plans for the Yeti Tribe Gathering in Winter Park. I have a vivid memory of seeing him there as he wrote in the dates for the Gathering...and then he proceeded to underline it.

He often would "pencil" in his trips as he began his plans. And his writing was vastly different from my scrawl, one could always tell where he had started and I had left off.

July was the final month he had written in plans for. At work today, I began to make the switch for that whiteboard calendar to shift another month. I stood there with eraser in hand but I could not bring myself to wipe out what he had last written for us. I'm lucky no one passed by at that moment as I found tears in my eyes as I was torn between the demands of work and the memories of a lost friend.

I put away the eraser today. Unused. I sat at my desk for a good while in wonderment. It seems so sudden that someone can be pulled out our lives and no longer exist in our physical realm. I struggle, even now as I refuse to let his memory fade, how to erase those simple words he had written. I just doesn't feel right wiping away another memory.

I know tomorrow I'll have to look at my whiteboard again. I know that I will have to pick up that eraser and wipe away Anthony's words. And I know it will not be his memory I'm wiping away, only words written in dry ink with the expectation that they would ultimately be erased as we continue to make new plans for our ever changing future.

How 'bout we go camping

Our first foray into camping with Emi was necessitated by Yeti's Tribe Gathering. We sourced a new tent to accommodate Emi's Pack-n-Play along with along with all the gear that goes hand in hand when travelling with a small child. An 8-person North Face palace!

With no dry run and accompanied by friends from Denver and the Pacific Northwest, we headed off to Winter Park to give it a shot. I had this bad feeling we'd be renting a room somewhere in town when Emi decided she had had enough.

Emi, however, decided she loved the experience. She loved playing in the dirt, walking in the stream and exploring the corners of her new tent. She made a game out of climbing on and off our inflatable mattress, watched Gibson as he wandered in the outdoors and had a fantastic time. Not to mention that she essentially slept through each night.

She had such a good time that we packed into our car the following weekend and headed off for an overnight trip to Buffalo Creek. This kid loves being outside!

Death

It seems to wait for us all, doesn't it? Yet, most of us go about our lives with nary a thought to the magnitude of what it means. Sure, we set up accounts for our loved ones, we make plans for the inevitable and we sometimes are forced to think about the enormity of it all. But for only fleeting moments. We return to our daily lives and forget about those concerns.

We have to. If we spent every day waiting for impending doom, we'd not accomplish a thing. Work would be ignored. Chores would go about the wayside. Our family life would be in shambles. Clearly, this is the human way to live a life.

Every now and then, I visit Anthony's Facebook page. I look at a face both familiar and unfamiliar. It's hard to believe that he has somehow left us, it seems as if it were only yesterday that we shared a laugh or engaged in some sort of mischief. It still brings tears to my eyes when I have to remember that there is no tomorrow to visit with him. Only yesterdays.

But that brings about other concerns, largely for my family.

Who would be there for Emi should something happen. Or for Hope? I have certain expectations about where they would go should the worst happen. Yet, at the same time, it is utterly inconceivable. Utterly.

Such are ramblings on a Monday night. A full work day, very little time with my girls and two hockey games later, I'm left to my own devices in my living room, surrounded by an explosion of Emi's toys, camping gear and our clothing. Such things happen when you spend your weekends playing and shirking the duty of chores. And late night memories of a friend now gone.

I miss you, Anthony Sloan. It's been too long since we last chatted.

"O Death
O Death
Won't you spare me over 'til another year"
-Ralph Stanley

Greetings

Sunday brought a couple of greetings. My girls returned home and I can't say how happy I am to have them here at home again. It makes the house feel...like home.

--------------------------------

Sunday also brought a greeting from a friend now gone.

Hope got in the car at the airport and as we drove home, she recounted her recent visit with our friend, Anthony.

She said she had a dream where he appeared out of nowhere. Hope said she had had difficulty remembering Anthony's face but in her dream, his familiar countenance was unchanged.

He first appeared to her with his back turned and when she realized it was Anthony, she asked "What are you doing here?". He turned to her and gave her his familiar grin.

Hope said he was so real, he was almost 3-dimensional in her dream.

-------------------------------

And for me? I'm so happy he drops by to say hi and let us know he is doing just fine. We still miss you, my friend, but thanks for saying hi.

In the line of fire

From insult to injury to....

As an official, you are always in the line of fire. You do your best to maintain a good position in order to have good sight lines. Yet you are constantly adjusting your position on ice due to the position of players and the puck.

I typically rely on good skating and anticipation to put myself in the right position where I can see but where I'm not going to be hit by players and puck. It does not always work quite the way you want it to. I have been hit with my fair share of pucks. I have been hit by my share of players. That said, I can not remember ever being knocked over by a player. I have surprised most of them by still being upright in the end (it does not hurt to be a strong skater on the ice...all the way up to the pros).

Last night, however, I zigged when I should have zagged. A player came out from behind his net and I adjusted by giving him the boards in the corner and plenty of ice to skate into by not getting out into his skating lane.

He never looked up.

And from ten feet away, I never stood a chance. A clearing shot right to the nuts.

He apologized profusely, during the rest of the game and several times after we had all left the ice. I just wanted to puke.

Is it better today? Yeah, I think so but only time and the return of my wife will tell.

But you know what? God, I still love this game!

Rides

The past few weeks have been filled with rides (the family is out of town and I've been trying to fill the loneliness of the empty house with a bit of outside fun). We have spent time at Nederland and Lair of the Bear putting in a few miles and getting some newbies out on the trail.

Yesterday, Flanders and I were a bit torn on where to ride. Ned seemed like to long a drive and we had just been at Lair the night before. In the back of my mind, I heard a little voice ask, "Where would Anthony go for a ride?"

Centennial Cone.

I was excited to ride a trail I had never been on before. And excited as it was one of Anthony's favorite local rides.

The wild flowers are out in force. So much yellow, red, purple and white. And their magnificence filled the air. It was refreshing to be out in the open looking down into Clear Creek Canyon. The trail was loose and exposed and it should have been the perfect ride.

Unfortunately, a stupid fall before the ride even began had left my right knee with a great deal of pain behind the kneecap. It felt like I turned back before I even really began the ride.

But I'll be back.

7/8/09 - 37 Years

It's funny, anniversary dates have not meant much to me in the past. Perhaps since, for the longest time, I did not have one. I was aware that family, friends and colleagues would celebrate the yearly occurrence but the significance of these dates was quite ethereal to me. It almost seemed to me like just another year to be viewed with the same irrelevance which I regard my birthday.

But as I grow, I learn.

It is not simply another year. An anniversary is the celebration of life together. Love shared. Hardships overcome. Joy seen from a pair of eyes that also see as one.

Days often seem to fly by and intermingle with the next. It is not often that we slow down and take pause to reflect on the life we lead as individuals, as pairs and as groups. And it is oh so important to remember to not let life pass us by but to relish each of the days life grants to us.

I spent a few days at home in the past week visiting with family. I saw my childhood house as a place that does not only harbor old memories for my parents. They have continued to add new memories to the house. Rock walls. A patio. Bee hives. Running water.

And I now look at my parents with greater awe. The life they continue to create and nurture with each other. The guidance they can offer to me as a new parent who aspires to follow their lead. I realize what an accomplishment it is to spend 37 years together and to continue to be happy, in love and never tired of each others company.

Happy anniversary Mom and Dad!

The night before

With the help of some a friend, Hope and I were able to sneak away for a date night at Cuba Cuba. We've been planning a dinner there for the past five years and finally had a chance to get out together for a meal.

The food at Cuba Cuba brought back memories of our trip to Belize and we both agreed that we must take Emiko there when she is old enough to appreciate an international trip.

Good food and the best of company made for a wonderful evening.

Thanks!

Father's Day

Seth - you are the most perfect father for our sweet Emi. I am so lucky to have you as my partner in parenthood. And in life. Happy first Father's Day. We love you so much!

Picnic with the family

We've had a run of brutal weather here in Colorado. Between the daily thunderstorms that roll in, there have been far too many overcast days. The thunderstorms have produced some vicious weather. Thunder loud enough to set off car alarms is the least of our concerns. The regular tornado warnings have far more serious implications. Before, most funnel clouds have waited to touch down until well east of Denver. We have now had funnel clouds and tornadoes around Denver in Aurora and Westminster. The hail storms have ruined cars, roofs and landscaping.

For us, we just sit back and watch. The new roof on our house protects us. The cars are garaged. Landscaping? At our house? Ha!

Today dawned with a beautiful blue sky and the gorgeous weather continued through lunch. Instead of going for a bike ride, I opted to meet Hope and Emiko at Foothills Academy and enjoy a little picnic with them. Gibson joined us on the lawn and the four of us reveled for an hour in the shade of a tree. Emi played with her snacks, Hope and I munched on some food and Gibson watched over us contentedly.

Life, for that hour, was perfect.

Welcome Adele

We want to welcome Adele Grassi Redmond to our wonderful world. She was born June 6 and came into this world at 9 pounds and 2 ounces...21.5 inches long. We can't wait to meet you in person in July. Even if your Dad and I can't go hang out at the new coffee shop in town.

Welcome Yaro Dean Veitch

Born 5/15/09 at 7 pounds and 10 ounces to Robbie, Kelly, big brother Shaw and the big dog Talisker. You have an incredible family, all of whom we love so much. We welcome you to this world and can't wait to meet you in person!

My Mom, the fighter

To my knowledge, my mother has never watched Braveheart.

She abhors violence. Anti war. Anti guns. She does not even like fights in hockey. For her, there are so many better ways to solve problems without resorting to violence.

But she is still a fighter.

Why is this even relevant? About nine years back, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Which she fought off. She had a lot of help but in the end, I attribute her success to her willingness to meet the cancer head on and fight it off in mind, body and spirit.

She fought cancer off with the help of good doctors. With the help of good friends. With the help of our extended family. With the help of good drugs. But what I remember most was her reliance on the soundtrack from Braveheart. She listened to it constantly as she prepared for her personal battle.

Yet it still boggles my mind that she can't bear to watch the movie. Her fighting spirit does not want to see the violence depicted in that movie. As much as this confuses me, I understand and respect that.

Braveheart's soundtrack became her personal musical accompaniment. It traveled with her as she endured radiation and chemotherapy. It kept her strong, so strong that she would don her bandanna and head to the office for a day's work. I think her connection with that music was so strong that she does not need to see the battles in the movie since she faced the same in real life. The fiction, the history and the legend in the movie metamorphosed into her own story.

That's my Mom...she'd have made a good frontierswoman. She'd probably have carried all three of us on her back across the country while preparing meals, taking care of the oxen and giving directions to Dad. And she'd have made it look easy!

Unfortunately, to all of our surprise, she is dusting off her soundtrack. What started as some fears about a neurological issue rapidly progressed last Monday into a full blown cancer treatment. She had her first radiation treatment on Thursday. True to form, she went to work on Friday.

Where does this leave me? Confused and scared. It has clearly been a tough few weeks. I'm grateful that Jeff is home with our parents. I'm happy that I have such a strong support system here in Colorado when I am so far from home and parents.

And I'm so happy to know my mother is such a fighter. Here we go again, Ma. We are all on your side in this fight.

Soda

A Mexican Coke was presented to me this morning. Oh the beauty of natural cane sugar in a carbonated beverage. After careful deliberation, I returned my gift to the gifter, thanked him and went about my way. It's been quite some time...6 months since my last Coke. Do I feel different? No. Have I lost weight? No.

But I'm not contemplating giving up high fructose corn syrup. Still not sure why but it doesn't seem like a bad idea.

Spirits

I worked with my big brother last night. We shared some laughs, some frustrations and shared of our spirits after the games were over. As we talked, Butch asked an interesting question.

"Do you still see him?"

I was not quite sure what he meant initially. Was I having nightmares? Was there a vision burned into my memory? But a few seconds later, I got it. Was Anthony visiting me. I realized I have seen Anthony recently. Or...not so much seen him as heard him.

I have never been particularly religious and I generally don't give a great deal of thought to the afterlife but I have always considered myself at least mildly spiritual. And that is exactly what my previous post was about...though I didn't realize it at the time.

Anthony has been at my side twice now. Joking with me. Singing to me. Laughing and smiling. Letting me know that all is well. He is opening my eyes to my own humanity and spirituality. And there is no way I can thank him enough for that.

I owe Butch, too. He has been my guide through all of this, helping me to understand the communication that is coming to me.

And this reminds me of how blessed and lucky I have been in the past. My Grandfather, years after he passed away, came to visit me and Hope in a dream one night. This dream is from 2 years ago but it is still vivid in my memory. He sat in our kitchen, patiently waiting to head out for lunch somewhere in town, as if no time had passed since I was a child. He was there to say hi, to check in on me. And I know he'll visit again to check in on little Emiko.

Anthony, I'm learning. I'm learning that you can still talk to all of us. We simply need to open our ears and listen. Godspeed and ride on!

A song, a voice and a chuckle

The healing process continues as the days pass by. Things cotinue their inevitable roll forward as each day progresses.

On Friday last week, we gathered in Evergreen to celebrate Anthony's life. I had a collection of his bikes on my roof as I drove up and I heard them singing to me. The sunroof was open and their were whistles and hums coming from various bikes as I cruised up the hill. For a moment, it felt like my friend was there to reassure me that all was ok.

Today, I took what remained of Anthony's shirts to Goodwill. As I handed the collection to the employee, I heard Anthony chuckle and ask if I "was taking him out with the trash." Just a moment of his wry humor but it was enough to elicit a smile on my behalf. He would want nothing more than to give of himself during these final moments. While it was difficult to say goodbye to his familiar things, it felt good knowing they were going to help others.

Just as Anthony would....

Welcome Alexa

Welcome to a beautiful world Alexa. You are blessed with incredible parents and an older brother that will love and look after you. We are all looking forward to meeting you face to face.

Seth, Hope, Emiko and Gibson

Godspeed Anthony Sloan

There are far too many stories to tell about this incredible human being. Anthony Sloan's incredible wanderlust, joie de vivre, quest for epic rides, ability to take the perfect shot through the camera lens and the ability to touch the hearts of every one he came in contact with will be missed. Anthony was truly the man who, whilst he wandered, was never at all lost.

Anthony's photos and journals touched the hearts of many whom had never met him. Many friends and family members of mine had followed his travels from afar and were awestruck with his passion, the spell of beauty he could cast and his whole hearted love for all around him.

Anthony was both the subject of many a prank and also assisted as the merry prankster as well. When we were building his Road Project many years ago, we took several photos of his bike coming together as he appreciated the art of assembly and welding. One set of pictures showed up with his new frame having wooden twigs for seatstays instead of the alloy we traditionally use. He was also an accomplice of mine in a prank I pulled on wife during her pregnancy. Hope and I had been discussing a new car and while she was off in Maine visiting family, I took several pictures of myself and of Gibson riding in Anthony's Miata. Hope was convinced her bungling husband had gone and made a huge mistake and Anthony helped me perpetuate that myth (well, part myth) by agreeing to let me take the little car to the airport to pick her up. I finally had to fess up before her return as I feared she may stay in Maine for the rest of her pregnancy and have a little Maine baby instead of a Colorado native.

Anthony's sense of humor brought him to XKCD and I was lucky that he shared the comic strip with me.

Anthony was lucky enough to have a job that helped preserve his wandering spirit. His demo schedule allowed him to range throughout the western half of the US. His photos from the road of the vistas, of the rides and of Grendel allowed us to participate in his travels even if only from the front of computer screen here in Colorado. His "A Picture a Day, 2008" was an exercise in photojournalism that inspired me to visit his site every morning during 2008 hoping for a new picture. And when he fell behind in posting photos, he would get a daily call from me prodding for new photos until his site was updated.

Anthony and I often enjoyed a breakfast burrito from the Bonfire trailer in Golden, though not often enough. We would frequently exchange phone calls or text messages to see who was going to pick up our morning meal though, with few exceptions, invariably it would be Anthony who was running early and had the time to swing by the little yellow trailer.

And that's the thing. Anthony was always on time, he had never missed an appointment and he maintained a meticulous schedule. Thursday was the first time I had ever known him to be late for a demo or for anything at all. It was so unlike him that all of us here in the office feared that he had gone off on a morning ride, hurt himself and was slowly working his way out of the wilderness.

My adopted older brother, my mentor and one of my closest friends is full-blooded Sioux and very spiritual. Butch gave me these words of comfort: There is a reason I was the one chosen to find Anthony on Thursday. That reason may not reveal itself immediately, it may take some time. I am allowed to get angry, to be upset with this decision but I will ultimately be shown why it was me.

I went down to Anthony's house in Golden to check and see if he was around. The demo rig and trailer were parked on his street and I could hear Grendel inside. Anthony never went anywhere without Grendel and I was surprised that the dog would be home by himself. I called Anthony's roommate, followed his directions to the spare key and stepped inside. The following space of time felt like an eternity but every step in my memory is vivid and calm.

The most important thing is that Anthony had friends with him from there on out. Dave, his roommate arrived, Joe was there and Hoog and Chris showed up too. In the end, we may have been there more for support of each other but I think Anthony would have been comforted knowing that it was his friends and not strangers that were there looking after him in those final moments.

Despite my beliefs, I took comfort in knowing Anthony was off riding endless single track somewhere. And to Butch's words as I reflect on everything over the past few days, I may have started down the path to understanding. My mother's reaction to Butch's comments was that I would find the right words to say to his family during their time of grief. And that has always been my struggle. I have never addressed or dealt with death well. As friends have passed away, I have often written letters to their family which were never sent. I never felt that my words were right.

But after the most difficult conversation I have ever had, a call to Anthony's mother to share in her grief, I have realized that it isn't the words that matter. It is simply the presence of being there.

To my friend's whose letters were never sent, I apologize for not being there for you and I want you to know that despite my lack of words or my presence, I WAS mourning from a distance. I simply lacked the fortitude to make my presence known.

To Anthony's family, I am still unsure as to why I was chosen but I promise to learn from this. I'm here to share in your grief and here to help in any way that I can. And you need to know that we are not the only ones. Anthony touched the hearts of many and you can see some of the breadth of his influence here, a website where he was a regular poster and visitor.

And, finally, to my dear friend Anthony. When JRR Tolkien wrote "Not all those who wander are lost," he was writing about you.

May you find the perfect single track that ends only where the sun sets. May you find the perfect light for your perfect photos. May you journey to all ends of our planet and this universe. And may you find a pen and a blank sheet of paper to record your travels and share them with us when we join you. Godspeed and Noli Umquam Oblivisci. We all miss you so much.

LD 1020 and 89-57

It's another beautiful day here in Colorado. The sun is out, the grass is green and all is well. But the day is even more incredible back in Maine. The Senate and House have both passed LD 1020 (21 - 14 and 89-57, respectively). This is a step toward legalizing gay marriage in the great state of Maine.

Is the battle over?

No. Unfortunately, there is a group who is trying to organize a people's veto by collecting 55,087 signatures which is not outside the realm of possibility. But the fight exists and while it is not clear where the governor stands on this divisive issue, it is clear that the majority of Maine's government is ready to take a stand on their beliefs.

It's a proud day for us Mainers!

More here....

Colon Cleanse - Day 17

Ahh...the happenings. Today was one of those "Holy Crap" days. I dunno what it was but I sure am relieved that it is no longer inside me. Wow.

It's funny...I haven't really been paying as much attention lately. I just do my business and leave. But this one caught the eye. Wow.

Umm...yeah. Wow.

Reflections on another season of hockey

I was looking back through some of my older blog entries...particularly September of last year. It feels like we have come such a long way in our life. We are now seasoned parents. Our life with Emiko has settled and follows a standard routine. We continue to make plans for the future of this family rather than simply living in the here and now.

But what caught me most was my early realization that it would be difficult to leave home for hockey. This has changed over the past seven months but only for the worse. As Emi becomes more and more involved in the world around her, I find it even harder to be away from her during her waking hours.

Nonetheless, I have continued to work at night (and the day!). I was looking back at the past season. I am no longer the rookie official in the CHL and AHA. I have worked plenty of games but I still felt honored every time I was assigned another game.

I worked 12 pro games over the course of the season and 15 NCAA Div 1 games including 3 playoff games. It truly was a great season as I felt comfortable on the ice and felt like I belonged out there with great hockey players and great officials. The schedulers for both leagues have been phenomenal, allowing me flexibility since I had an infant at home and also had a wife completing her Master's.

And now? Hockey is, for the most part, over. I have a charity tournament to work this weekend and some adult clinics to help instruct and then I am pretty much off the hook for the rest of the summer.

What's ahead. Biking, for one. I got out for my first mountain bike ride of the season today. It was good to be out on the dirt and I had been avoiding those rides for fear of injuring myself during the hockey season. But now it is time to cut loose and have some fun. I also want to take some weekends and get Emi familiar with camping and the back of the Land Rover. We'll see how she does but I am positive she will enjoy it.

Summer is ahead and hockey is over. As much as I love the game, it is a much needed respite for myself and for Hope. I'm looking forward to an endless summer.

Japanese Bar Food

Jeff, Dad and I tried something a little different on Saturday night for dinner. We went to a place called Hagi for a quick meal.

I wish I had bothered to write down all we ate as it was completely different. Fried chicken skins, chicken balls (like meat balls...c'mon), chicken gizzards (surprisingly good though I will guess I wouldn't touch them if I saw them before they were cooked) were among the stranger items we ordered. There was some fish and a noodle dish thrown in to boot. And fried burdock (yummy).

We spent a lot of time just chatting and the meal prompted the Old Man to reminisce about his younger days and some of the food his mother prepared for him. Some stuff he recognized on the menu. It was a good family moment and something I wouldn't want to have missed for the world.

Jeff and I split two bottles of nigori as well...a stretch for me and I'm sure what helped send him on his long spiral toward an eventful train ride the next day.

Ain't no thang

• NYC ain't nothin' without a family wedding.
• NYC ain't nothin' without seeing cousin David take that final step into adulthood by saying "I do."
• NYC ain't nothin' without a trip to City Hall.
• NYC ain't nothin' without a bunch of firsts for Emiko (first sub/train ride, first introductions to extended family, first time in the big city, first shared hotel room, first cab ride).
• NYC ain't nothin' without a bbq lunch on a deck in Brooklyn with incredible friends we don't see often enough.
• NYC ain't nothin' without a run to a department store with my twin brother Jefe.
• NYC ain't nothin' without complete strangers complimenting Emiko's looks and behaviour left and right.
• NYC ain't nothin' without a trip a party in an old speakeasy that still requires a knock on the door and password.
• NYC ain't nothin' without the realization that Emi make's our trips more fun and exciting.
• NYC ain't nothin' without seeing the wife get all dressed up and looking incredible!
• NYC ain't nothin' without seeing the older brother Jefe get sick on the train.
• NYC ain't nothin' when our other brother Nick is missing from the festivities.
• NYC ain't nothin' without seeing Emi make everyone she met smile.
• NYC ain't nothin' without a slice or two of pizza.

NYC Baby! Part Deux

Walking into the the Duane Street Hotel on Saturday (a very nice place to stay, by the way), I was confronted by the concierge who asked, "Was your brother just in here?"

I laughed and asked, "Would you say my twin brother, perhaps".

With an affirmative reply from him, we chalked up a third twins question for the weekend. I promptly texted Jefe and he spiraled ever further downward.

Woo hoo!

NYC baby!

I've been accused of many things. But yesterday I had a first (and a second) and then another first.

While at cousin David's wonderful reception after his wedding at City Hall (which was an absolute blast), I was accused of having a twin brother. Which made me laugh and left Jeff nonplussed. Later that evening, Jeff, Dad and I went out for a late night pizza. And once again, Jeff and I were accused of being twin brothers. When I laughed and said no, she immediately asked if Jeff was the oldest brother!
Jeff is now wandering around in a funk and no longer wants to be seen in public with me.

Colon Cleanse - Day Nine

Wow.

This morning's happening looked like something straight out of the picture gallery on Dr. Natura's website.

Wow.

And then, about an hour into the day at the office, it happened again!

Wow.

Welcome

Hope, Emi, Gibson and I want to welcome Cooper to the world and congratulate Kris and Kevin!

One more post tonight...

Just for grins....

A weekend of firsts

Emi had a weekend of firsts.

Saturday was the first time she attended a birthday party (Happy 1st birthday, Sienna!).

Saturday evening was her first sushi bar (thanks Miss Mayhem).

Sunday was her first bike ride in the Burley.

Satisfaction

This ain't no Rolling Stones tune.

This ain't no disco tune either.
This is CO!

Hope and I have struggled for several months trying to figure out what we wanted to do about getting a new car. As hockey season drew to a close, the need for two Gibson and Emi vehicles lessened and I became prepared to drive the Saturn for the coming summer. My desire for a new car waned as I began to enjoy the idea of having a summer without extra car payments.

However, some of our best friends decided they wanted to sell their XC70 (these are the same best friends who sold us our current XC70 3 years ago...almost to the day!) and as we have had such good luck with our wagon, it piqued our interest. We began to talk to them about another purchase and then we were struck with the challenges Hope was facing at school. Our friends were kind enough to be patient while we sorted out Hope's future at Foothills (never fear, all is well) and today, they dropped off our "new" car.

Hope wasn't originally sold on getting another XC70. She was actually semi-interested in getting a different car. Until she drove it. As we headed home from the bank, she pulled up along side me, rolled down the window and shouted that her new car was nothing like our old car. She was far more comfortable and she even felt her visibility out of the car had improved as well.

Me? I won't argue with her, I'm just satisfied. Hope has grown up driving her father's shit boxes. Skip's cars were affordable, unreliable and often unsafe. They would leave you stranded at the most inconvenient times and I have heard stories about exhaust leaks that required the windows down in the dead of winter. Even the Saturn was a big step for her 6 years ago. I am now satisfied knowing she (and Emi) are riding in a safe and reliable vehicle. Expensive, yes but that satisfaction is well worth the price. I drove home from the bank with a smile on my face knowing we had made the right decision.

Colon Cleanse - Day Eight

Not too much new to report on this one. My happenings are very regular and very interesting. While I haven't seen anything quite like what they showed on their website, the happenings are definitely different from anything I have experienced in the past.

We fly to NYC on Thursday. If I have a happening on the flight, it should be...interesting.

Hockey Etiquette and Anger Management

I have been struggling to write this post and have finally decided to put it down in all its unkempt glory....

I am extremely ashamed that I have to admit that I really lost my temper on the ice several nights ago. There is some strange way that I and my friends can find a way to justify what happened but it doesn't make me feel any better that I lost control of my emotions. And I have been thinking about this post on and off for several weeks since I have not thought of a good way to put down in words exactly what happened.

Sunday night is drop in night. A good group of guys get together and play for over an hour at Apex...just a few minutes from my home. It is generally very laid back and tempers very rarely flair. But I'm afraid my temper reared its ugly little head that night.

Let me start off by outlining this situation.

Drop in hockey means that there are no officials on the ice. You change on the fly and the play does not stop unless you score, the goalie makes a save or someone gets hurt. You are on the honor code. If the play is offsides, you relinquish the puck.

There is also a certain etiquette you should follow during drop in hockey (and perhaps in life as well). As I mentioned before, if you are offsides, you let go of the puck, you should not carry it around and eventually fire it away from everyone else. If you get passed/beat on the ice, don't reach out and hook, hold or slash at the player who has gotten past you. Teeing up a slapshot when you are five feet away from a goalie is just mean and a good way to injure a goalie. If the goalie makes a save, don't try to slash at his/her glove to get the puck loose again and you certainly should not try to pressure the defensive team immediately after the goalie makes the save. Finally, if you drill someone by accident, take the time to apologize. You don't have to stop but you should at least be somewhat polite.

All of that said, several things happened that night that tipped the scales in my head.

Our goalie made a save and play shut down. He pushed the puck toward me and as I began to collect it, an opposing player charged in to try and intercept the "pass" (the goalie and I were about 5 feet apart). I made a quick move to protect the puck and skated away. As I did, this other player reached out and hooked my upper arm. Not a little tub but one of those mean hooks that feels like someone just pulled a hack saw across your arm. And this is when I saw red. I turned on him and gave him a shove. I am ashamed to admit that as we wrestled, I was trying to pull his helmet off (he was wearing a full shield, I had only a half shied on) so I could throw a punch. We were quickly separated by friends and I began to skate toward my bench. He called out over his shoulder and asked, "Did it hurt". My response was a simple, "yeah" and then he chirped back, "Good". If I was seeing red before, I could see nothing now. I went after him again and luckily, friends intervened and I was pulled away. I went to my bench and remained quite pissed. He went home (I think at the quiet suggestions of our friends).

Was this right? No, looking back on it, it all seems quite childish. Yet that is the game of hockey. We are grown men with sticks in our hands and they can be used as weapons. I am glad to know that when I lost my temper, I had the presence of mind to drop my stick and at least use my hands to settle the situation. I hope to never do that again and at the same time, I hope that he has learned his lesson.

Do I harbor a grudge? No. In fact, I really don't even know which player it was. If he asks about it later, I think I will just run through the etiquette of drop in hockey with him and hope he is willing to learn a little bit from an old curmudgeon like me.

Sad News

We recently learned that the wife of a friend of ours has discovered that her colon cancer has returned. It is both shocking and sad and while we have been struggling to come to terms with the news, we can't even begin to imagine the turmoil he must be going through.

Our thoughts and our hearts go out to both of them.

Colon Cleanse - Day 2

Day 2 was interesting. I've noticed that in the morning after taking the pills and the "shake", my stomach is a little crampy and I don't feel particularly good. I wanted to go for a lunch ride but felt crappy enough that I ended up hanging out quietly. After I eat, I generally feel much better and I am considering altering my morning breakfast habits to see if I can avoid the sludgy feeling.

As far as my happenings are concerned, I first noticed that most of them were ghost "happenings". I'd go but I found that upon wiping, it didn't seem like I had gone at all. The colors and textures have been interesting but I will avoid going into greater detail there.

Jeff left his poo log in the bathroom downstairs for me to fill out while he is off jaunting around the east coast....

Compensation

I think that this cleanse company should provide something spectacular for the spouses of those who are cleansing. Like a maid to clean up the mess. Or great chocolate at the very least.

Colon Cleanse - Day 1

Day 1 is almost done. I started the program this morning and after taking the pills and the drink, I did feel some small cramps in my stomach and felt a little crappy right before lunch. After eating, I felt fine.

As far as the happenings are concerned, they were few and far between. Although I must say the urge to go when I needed to go is pretty over powering. When I got home, I went straight to the bathroom and had a nice, solid green happening. The green could be from the pills or it could be from the split pea soup from last night.

I have a hockey game to work tonight, we'll see how that goes....

A new experiment - Colon Cleanse

I have, for a while, been considering doing a cleanse of my system. Friends here at Yeti have done them with varying results but all felt quite a bit better afterward. I did some quick research and with the recommendation of a good friend, settled on this program. If you have the time, the wherewithall and the inclination, read the testimonials and peruse the photo gallery.

I'm planning on keeping this blog updated with what I will deem "happenings". Little brother Jeff maintains a Poo Log, perhaps I should get one....

Umm...wow!

Friends

This picture makes me think of my favorite old joke.

What is the difference between a good friend and a great friend?

A good friend will come bail you out of jail.

A great friend is sitting next to you saying, "Dude, that was freakin' awesome!"


Which reminds me of another story and how I scared our great friends, the Lewis'.

We would often joke that we carry shovels in our trunks just in case our good friends get into too much trouble and we have to help them bury the evidence.

Early one morning, I had to call them for some help. The only message I left on their machine was, "remember how we always joke about carrying shovels in our trunks?".

They called back within five minutes ready to bury a body. I then explained I needed their horsepower to help pull down a tree.

But it worked!

Great friends....

Cheeseburgers and sushi

My personal experiment of dropping soda has been successful. I have not had a soda since the beginning of January.

However, Jeffy showed up with four cases of Moxie. I have decided Moxie does not qualify as soda, it is medicine. So while my meager supply lasts, I'll allow myself to have a Moxie now and again. Otherwise, still no soda pop for me.

One other thing...Miss Mayhem owes me a sushi dinner. We haven't had time to meet for a sushi dinner but she owes it to me nonetheless.

A difficult weekend

I've had some tough weekends. The one that comes to mind most recently was when my appendix burst. All the fun and shenanigans associated with that operation (not to mention the sales meeting I was helping run) were pretty painful and dreary.

But this weekend tops the bill.

Diagnosed with the flu on Friday, I was told in no uncertain terms by our pediatrician that passing it along to Emiko could be deadly.

That's an eye opener.

Now tie it in with the fact that Hopey had her Master's class all weekend long. Who in the hell is going to look after the kid? Gibson?

I've been sequestered in my room, subjected to the harangue of my father and brother (who rolled into town on Thursday night) and tortured by the sound of her cries. This has easily been the most painful place I've ever had to be: listening to her grief throughout each day and not being able to go to her side. Not being able to walk over and make her laugh. Finding tears of my own forming when I could hear how unhappy she was. I've worn a little surgical mask (courtesy of Cheryl) every time I've left my prison. I've washed my hands religiously (even before going to the bathroom). But I've kept my distance from her at all times.

Through all of this, I've been blessed with my father and brother's presence. Cheryl came over on Friday night to help them out since they had arrived with no expectation of being put on babysitting trial. Let's just say they passed with flying colors.

Dad has been a trooper throughout. He has fed her, changed diapers and held her through her squalling. He has been so endearing to her that, on Saturday night after Hopey got home, Emi held her arms out to him so he could pick her up! This has made me smile, cry and laugh all at the same time (though I try not to laugh because it makes me cough like I'm losing a lung).

Jeffy to has been a huge help. He's looked after Gibson, helped around the house and, here's the big one, even changed a diaper! He swore he was never, ever going to change a diaper...at least not until he had to change one for his own child. But Emi found a way to convince him!

A huge thanks to all for what they have done for my family this weekend. I really don't know what we would have done if they had so fortuitously been here in Colorado.

I've also learned something by this forced and necessary exile. I've learned a little something about fatherhood. Each time Emi cried, I wanted to rush to her side. But I learned that my father hasn't forgotten what it takes to comfort a teary child. He still has it. I realized that my standing over him wearing a mask could possibly just make him nervous as I would have tried to offer hints or suggestions while he held a frantic baby. I realized that he would figure it out on his own; she's not that different from any other child that came before or will come after.

And I can see how applicable this is for Emi in the days and years to come when she is learning something new that I think is just second nature. She will figure it out. I won't need to stand over her because she will eventually get it the same way the rest of us did. I remember how my father taught me that too.

My Dad is a hockey deity in central Maine. Everyone knew who he was when I was growing up. He played, he coached, he taught power skating and he ran the rink. When I played, he stood in the far corner of the stands and watched. Just watched. When he met me in the lobby, we'd walk to the car and I'd put my gear in the back before we began our 45 minute drive home. And he never once offered to speak first about the game. He always waited until I asked. He let me figure it out on my own and he knew that if I wanted his help, I would ask.

And so, while this has been the most difficult and painful weekend I have in memory, I plan to cherish it for all that I have learned and look back upon it happily for years to come.

The end of the season

It's funny how this happens every year. The end of the season sneaks up on me and I suddenly realize that I have both a great deal of joy and a great deal of sadness that it's here.

I enjoy working with good friends. In fact, as we discussed tonight after a CHL game, it's not really work at all when we are out there with the good guys. We make the calls, we giggle, we flap our arms around like a flock of sea gulls. We take some grief, we make tough calls and we always learn just a little bit more about this game we love.

Being out there on the ice with our buddies is a joy. For those few minutes, some of which can feel like days, there is nothing else in our world other than the game of hockey. We watch each other's backs, cover each other's lines and work our butts off for those sixty minutes of hockey.

We are students of the game. We expect to learn a little bit each game. We learn each other's working traits, we learn the player's idiosyncrasies and habits and we learn about our judgement of the calls we make. We are often our own toughest critics. We watch game tapes to see what we missed, how we could better position ourselves and where our vision on the ice is lacking. We discuss those tough calls and non-calls in the locker room between periods or on the ice during breaks. We learn to adjust for each game.

At the same time, despite the fun we have every game, I look forward to the end of the season for time at home with Hope, Emi and Gibson. Hockey takes me away from my family, it makes me miss certain moments at home and it sometimes gives me long drives in the car by myself.

Would I prefer to stay home with my family or go work a game? Every time I get scheduled, it's an honor that I am working at this elite level. And I say yes to the games. Every time I leave the house or skip going home all together and leave from my office, I miss precious time with my wife and daughter. I certainly hope that the time away, doing a job that I love, is acceptable to my family.

Hope understands and is more than willing to work with me on my schedule. But I fear that Emi would somehow grow to resent the sport that pulls her father away from her a few nights a week. I want her to appreciate what hockey means to me, I would love to see her play but most of all I hope that she inherits at least a little of the drive toward athleticism that I have, whatever the sport.

It's late. My family is now asleep. I worked a game that was played brilliantly by the two teams and was lucky enough to work with my mentor and great friend. I got to work with an up and coming referee that I hope to see to go on to the next levels of officiating. I got to have fun. And I appreciate that I get to work in this great league with great friend who are great officials.

Good night, I apologize for the rambling-ness of this posting tonight. Forgive me my sentimentality, my grammatical errors and any mispellings.

One last video

I promise...this is the last video for a while. But well worth watching.

My boss in the CHL

Wayne Bonney is one of the greatest linesman to ever work the NHL. I am lucky to actually get to speak with him and learn from him in the CHL. Keep an eye on him as he disappears into the scrum. And be aware that Kordic was huge and strong...Wayne really wakes him up!

Sorry for multiple video postings today...it's just one of those days!

Umm...yeah

This is worth a giggle or two.

From the Coen brothers....

The Alumni Fund

Many, many moons ago, I worked for the Middlebury Alumni Fund while I was a student at said college. I made many calls, plead for a great deal of money and ended up calling some of my friends who had graduated ahead of me.

KT got one of these calls yesterday and she quickly wrote me an email wishing it had been a call from me. So I put together what I thought would be a good script in order to get a pledge out my fellow Alums.

It is as follows:

KT, I'm calling you today on behalf of Middlebury. You remember Middlebury, right? We educated you, housed you and fed you well for the four years you attended.

Well, I hate to tell you this, but Middlebury is in a bit of a pickle these days. Our endowment is not quite as large as some other private colleges. Plus, with the downturn in the economy, we are now facing a bit of a shortfall with our budget for the next eleven years.

We know you are in a position to donate at least $25 dollars to Middlebury this year. We have your financial records for the past ten years, your tax records for the past five years and your police records for the past four years. You really are not in a position to say no to a $50 dollar donation but we don't want you to feel like we are trying to extort money from you. That little incident that occurred in Pittsburgh two years ago really is worth at least a $75 dollar donation, especially if you don't want your family and best college friends to find out. I mean, really, getting busted plagiarizing on your report for why cock fighting really isn't an inhumane treatment of animals is a little over the top, don't you think?

Don't forget that your donation goes a long way for current students at Middlebury. They will continue to be coddled, graded on a curve, and given close in parking spaces in order to cut down on the long commute from their dorms to the student fitness center. These are all incredible reasons to donate $100 this year. Not to mention that your donation of $150 will help the school continue to place quite high in national rankings due to graduate satisfaction.

Shall we go ahead and ring up a $200 donation on your credit card tonight? We have that number too, you should know.

Did I mention we need to build a new practice rink for our National Championship hockey teams? KT, your name would go quite nicely over the door to the rink. That little international incident you had in Finland would be all but forgotten should this become the KT Ice Arena.

Let's get that donation going.

Seth
Middlebury College
98.5

Puddles of light

I was driving home from the rink late tonight and had what I can only describe as a bit of an out-of-body experience.

I was following two other cars and we were spaced out by a few hundred yards. We were headed down a slope so I, at higher elevation, could clearly see the cutoff for each car's headlights. And it was almost as if I was above my car, looking down at all three puddles of light.

Good drivers look outside of their puddle of light. They look into the darkness and watch for movements, reflections and shadows that look out of place. Bad drivers can only see that cutoff of illumination, they cannot see outside of their puddle of light.

I have had several deep conversations with three close friends today. We mostly talked about general things and it was good to catch up with all of them. My most profound conversation was with my Reverend. She and I bounced ideas off each other almost as if we were riffing of each others comments and ideas. I greatly appreciate the fact that each time we talk, I learn something from my younger friend. As much as I may have held her hand in the past, she continues to hold mine as I wander through this life.

All three conversations I had deal directly with these puddles of light. The author Paulo Coelho has written on how most people tend to operate in the small sphere of space around their bodies. They walk with their eyes down, looking only to the next footstep. They don't see the people, the architecture, the landscape or the majestic beauty of life that surrounds them. Instead, they operate step to step and point to point without getting involved in all that revolves around their small orb, their small puddle of light.

We need to always hold our eyes to the horizon. We need to acknowledge those friends and strangers that surround us. We need to acknowledge the beauty that can be found in even the most mundane aspects of life. And, perhaps most importantly, we need to realize how our actions, even in our small puddle of light, can so dramatically affect everyone around us. This occurs in all we do. Our relationships with our partners and friends, how we work with others in the office or on the ice, how we acknowledge the strangers who approach us on the sidewalk and how we deal with life in general. I've been doing my best to hold my eyes to the horizon and I am amazed at what I get to see.

A bachelor weekend in review

Tonight, i got to play hockey. And I felt strong and young...I was pulling away from other players with very effort. I was completing tape to tape passes to guys who didn't even expect to receive a pass but who were in perfect position to head up ice or shoot. I was making it look easy and I was feeling pretty good about myself (except for my backhand). My legs felt light and I didn't slow down as the game progressed.

But I suppose my legs will always feel light when I have spent the morning skiing at Loveland. 2 inches of fresh which had wind loaded into 5 inches at higher elevations. It was a bluebird day, the wind was low and the temps stayed in the 20's. It was a perfect day to ski and I'm happy that I had such a wonderful first day of skiing in over a year. And I was lucky enough to spend my time following Dave as he led me all over his mountain.

Perhaps my back stayed loose as I was playing hockey because I had spent all afternoon hunched over cleaning the stove, running the vacuum around the house and moving a great deal of furniture as I rearranged the bedroom (hey, the wife is gone, I can do whatever I want).

Or maybe I was feeling so strong because I had reffed two pro hockey games this weekend (Friday and Saturday night). Those skates certainly get my blood flowing!

Now that I think about it...I'm pretty worked from the weekend. I may need to hire a personal masseuse.

A new twig

Hockey players tend to the finicky side of things when it comes to their gear. I have been playing with the same curve and stick flex for the past ten years. Nothing else seems to work well for me, free gear included.

I purchased two new sticks two weeks ago. They are top of the line twigs, the same that the pros use. Pure carbon fiber goodness. While they are the newest stick on the market, they are still the same curve and same flex as the ones I have been using for the past decade.

Yet I have struggled with them for the past two weeks. Only tonight was I able to finally figure out how to receive a pass, stick handle and begin shooting. Last week was an utter disaster. I could not do a thing right and I attributed it all to how light the new sticks were. I thought I was not compensating enough given the change in weight. A similar phenomenon occurred when I first upgraded my old skates from high school to the lighter, stiffer skates of the 2000's. I was extending too far in my crossovers because the skate was so light and had to adjust.

So for the past two games I have been trying desperately to adjust. Tonight I began to get a handle on it. I could move with the puck. I could shoot...sort of. I could receive and make perfect tape to tape passes. But the backhand was still eluding me. And as much as I progressed, I could not seem to receive a pass or do anything right with my back hand. The puck would constantly seem to slip past me.

As I left the rink tonight, I discovered why. All of my adjustments to this point have been in how I cup the puck, how I cradle the pass and how I roll my wrists. As I was walking out, I noticed that the lie of the blade was different.

For the non-hockey folk out there, the lie is essentially the angle the blade takes as it points away from the shaft (insert whatever juvenile comment you need to here).

So, I know now that the final adjustment I need to make is how I hold my hands in relation to my body. This will directly impact whether all or very little of the blade is in contact with the ice the next time I receive a pass on my back hand. And I look forward to it!

Empty house

It's funny. My friends and I joked about how having the family gone would allow for more sleep and give me the weekend off. Hope and I joked about it too. I was looking forward to having a quiet weekend by myself.

But here I am walking into an empty house and it doesn't feel right. All the standard things I have been doing are missing. I always check on Emi when I walk in to make sure she is sleeping alright. There is an empty spot in the bed where the love of my life is usually asleep next to me. Even Gibson seems a little bummed that no one is around.

I miss them. It is safe to say I'd rather give up a little sleep to have Hope and Emi around than to be hanging out in this empty house.

They can't come home soon enough.

A Weekend Off

I've been contemplating the upcoming weekend for quite some time. I have a weekend off from parenting. A long weekend, too!

I'm already scheduled to work two Central League games. I'm already planning a ski day at Loveland. And I'm already planning to get some sleep.

At the same time, it is hard to imagine going three days/nights without Emiko in the house. She has become such a fixture and a joy that having her gone is almost depressing. But Emi is traveling with Hope to visit the only surviving great-grandmother. I'm actually a bit jealous that I don't get to go with them.