Jason's Untimely Thoughts

Greetings Tiger football fans,

It’s once again the happiest time of the year, with football season upon us.  Our beloved Tigers take on Miami on Saturday at 11:00 a.m.  For at least one more year, Lot D is our spot, so you can look for us in a strikingly similar location and setup as previous years.  I’ll be out there early, feel free to join whenever, any and all are welcome.  If you’d happen to like to bring a breakfast or brunch dish, I’m going to guess that it would be eaten.  As usual, if you’d like me to bring stuff to the tailgate for you, just drop it on the porch sometime Friday night and I’ll throw it in the truck.

As the excellent Dave Matter points out in the Columbia Tribune, Miami seems concerned about how we refer to them.  From their game notes, “When referring to Miami, please use either Miami, Miami University or Miami (Ohio). Please do not use Miami of Ohio or University of Miami, etc. The latter are not the proper names for our institution. Thank you.”

Mizzou evidently played the Miami last year as well, the fact that I have absolutely no memory of the 51-13 victory tells you almost how interested I am in this contest.  So I’m going with “Miami (no memory)” as my reference point and hoping that holds true again this year.  A 30-point beating is my hope, with new QB James Franklin’s dimples having their coming out party on national television.  And I miss beating the orange makes me ILL crowd every year for the first game, it turns out.

Since I have nothing funny to say about Miami (no memory), but need some material, I turn gratefully to K-State, always nice enough to provide fodder.  Commonly, you’ve got all you need just from their head of a mascot.  A few years ago, they provided the Power Towel gem.  Just today, the internets give us the K-State gift of EcoKat — the conservation and recycling centric mascot who is willing to sacrifice 3-4 bottles of Aqua Net just to make her hair enticing enough to attract recyclers yet dangerous enough to ward off Willie the Wildcat.  Bless their hearts.

Happy football, Go Tigers.

p.s.  I lost my “tailgaters” e-mail list when I left Miller’s.  And my paycheck, for that matter.  Anyway, some of you may have never received this stupidness before, some of you may wish you’d never have received it, and it’s possible I’ve left off someone that might need this information, should such a person exist. Whatevs.  Six times a year, every home game, laying out the tailgating plans (which will become a bit more important this year with the loss of the company sponsored tailgates).  on a side note, screw ku.

Tonight was meet the teacher night at good old Grant School.  Adelaide and Jack were both fired up about finding out their teacher, seeing which friends were in their class, choosing their desks, and so on.  It was pretty much all we talked about yesterday and today, before walking up the street at 4:30.

We had a pretty solid tip on which class Jack was going to be in.  I’d shared with Adelaide that he would be in the same class she’d had for first grade, but we decided to keep it a surprise for him.  He was going to be pleased with any of the three teachers, he agreed, but he was really hoping for Mrs. Williams.  (Almost certainly because that’s who Adelaide had, although she did a wonderful service to me of watching out for him in kindergarten.)

Adelaide had decided she didn’t care at all which of the teachers she had.  She liked them both and was going to be pleased either way.   She spent much more time wondering which of her friends would be where, and whether she’d be lucky enough to again have her bestest friend in the same class.  They had met just prior to kindergarten and had been in the same class every year.   Although she did let slip that she hoped she and bestest friend would be in the same class until they were 30, she finally decided that she had four really good friends and she’d be happy with any combination.

Sometime late this afternoon she told me she hoped that two (any two) of her friends were in her class, the other two were in the other class.  She said she didn’t think it would be fair if they were all in the same class together.  I’m not sure why, thinking back, but it struck me as a very selfless sentiment.  I was proud of her thinking it through and coming to a wish that involved sharing, even if it was only sharing to her.

So this afternoon, the plan was for Jack & I to go to his room, she could run ahead to the 3rd grade rooms to choose the desk she wanted.  We made a quick stop at the lists, lucky enough that our names tend to be at the top of the alphabetical sort, so the kids just saw who their teachers were.  Both were pleased and were off to their rooms.

I lingered just a bit to see if Adelaide’s luck was holding up with bestest friend, to discover they’d be separated for the first time.  Sad, but not terribly surprising.  A quick glance didn’t show me many more familiar names, but I had to run to catch up to Jack.  While Adelaide went on upstairs, I went to Jack’s classroom and helped him get settled.  Adelaide’s bestest was in their with her brother, who was going to sit next to Jack.  Another friend came along soon enough on the other side, and he was pleased pleased.

I started to pick up hints that Adelaide might not be as pleased in her class, so left Jack there and ran to look at the list again.  I went upstairs, worried about what state of mind she’d be in, to find her happily searching for the perfect desk location.  I helped her put away her things a bit, then asked if she’d looked at the class list.  We walked over there and I watched her crumble as she discovered that none of the four she’d hoped for were in her class.  The poor kid was heartbroken.

She spent the next hour trying to put away her things, trying not to talk to anyone (even her friends), and trying not to cry.  She was only successful at the first two of those things.  We talked a lot, her new teacher and her old teacher both talked to her, and she does have friends in the class.  In all, it will be an opportunity for her to expand, but that’s not a very fun explanation to try to give.

Her spirits have started to pick up, after dinner she was no longer saying she didn’t want to go to school anymore, and she seems to have accepted the situation — at least for tonight.  She’s still heartbroken, but was almost looking forward to going again by bedtime.  I still feel bad for the kid.  I try to not let the kids say “it’s not fair” as that simply doesn’t matter very often.  But damn it was hard for me to not walk to school later tonight (or early in the morning) and see if we couldn’t do something to make her a touch happier.  And on that point, it’s clear why they do Meet the Teacher night as late as possible before school starts.

Maybe the overarching point is that it doesn’t matter nearly as much where you sit or what you do, but that you do it with your friends.  But really the overarching point is that I just feel bad for her, wish I could do something to help, and hope she is happy with it by tomorrow morning.

** and she really does have friends in her class, just not the four she hangs out with the most.

Over the past few weeks I think I’ve become to have a little greater appreciation for the difficulties those in poverty can face when trying to climb out.  Hanging out at the country club pool every day for two hours allows you grand perspective, it seems.  Who knew?

I first really started thinking about it after a United Way meeting.  Results from a survey were presented, some of which indicated that cost of medical bills was thought to be a major factor among those facing poverty.  I’m sure it wasn’t actually the case, but I detected nothing but shock from those in the room.  Several comments were made about how surprising that was.  No one was disputing, but several were generally surprised.  Meanwhile I was likely slack-jawed at their surprise… I couldn’t believe you could be unaware of that anymore, at least that it was possible to be driven to poverty by medical bills and situations.

Self-employed guy has a major accident.  Big bills.  Can’t work for a bit, so then thinks he can’t afford insurance.  Takes a risk, starts down a slippery slope, something else pops up.  It can be as simple as that.  Or breast cancer survivor that then loses COBRA coverage.  Good luck purchasing that new coverage.

Similarly, at least a little, with the kids no longer in school it is freaking difficult to do anything.  Anything.  Since I’m watching my money while going to the country club pool every day for two hours, I’m hesitant to have a sitter (much).  Which means a simple “Can you come over this afternoon for a meeting?” becomes unsimple.  I never fully appreciated that when scheduling the bazillions of interviews I’ve scheduled over the past 10 years.   Certainly that part is doable, but it’s hard.

Speaking of hard, it’s nice out so I think I’ll go to the pool.

I’m going to go all Cee Lo here.  It’s not aimed at most of the employees that work(ed) in your joint.  Many were fine. Some were exceptional.  Some of the nurses especially. Some were likely good and I’ve unfairly judged them.

Three years ago I was living in your hospital.  I’d run across the street to buy new underwear, t-shirts, or shorts, because I could do that in 5-minutes rather than do laundry.  I ate every meal in the cafeteria or Subway across the street.  Many others in the family did as well.  The kids last saw their mom in that miserable general population room, struggling to breath, with everyone trying to figure out what to do next.

I have absolutely no doubts that the surgery part of the stay was a resounding success.  I know Sarah did everything she was asked to do beforehand, and to the best of her ability while she was awake post-surgery.  I have no real idea if any of the above played a part in the final outcome.  I know I’m still unbelievably pissed off and have exactly no more delusions that the outcome was right, just, or fair.

I drove about 3 hours the other day from Nogales to Phoenix, AZ…. All I did the entire drive was remember your hospital.  I didn’t mean to, it’s just how it was.

Don’t do any of that shit to anyone else.  None of it.  The resident is lucky I didn’t throw him out the window at the time. I can’t think of anyone whose opinion I less valued at that moment and they clearly needed all the help they could get. As is the jackass who told me they’d only had one person die.  I know it’s hard.  I know it’s work.  I appreciate that you’re certainly generally trying to do good.  Remember that the people in the waiting room know the patient much better than you’re ever going to.

Remember Sarah, and do good.

Over the past couple of days, whenever I think of Grandpa, for some reason I have two basic visions of him:
 
Grandpa of My Youth
Grandpa of My Kids
 
I don’t seem to have many other easy recollections of Grandpa and me as an adult, it’s just those two visions.  And of course a lot of those are shared with Grandma.
 
When I think of Grandpa of my youth, I remember a big, towering man.  Tan and strong from life on the farm.  Big forearms.  A tattoo.  Him not taking it easy on me when I was stuck in a game of dominos.  Him coming in for dinner to what seemed like the biggest glass of tea in the history of all glasses of tea.  Seeing them at church and being held in high regard there.  I think of Grandma always calling him “Beck” and me being so dense that I didn’t realize until years later that it was a nickname for Becking. 
 
And then I have lots of recent memories with our kids.  Maybe he didn’t pronounce Adelaide’s name right all the time, but he always tried to engage her.  Or played ball with Jack Thayer, the JT Becking of northern Missouri.  I remember both kids hanging out with him in the sun room, playing whatever games, and having fun.  I remember Grandma and Grandpa talking about their wedding reception once, or maybe a pre-wedding party, and that they had both soft drinks and hard drinks there.  And I was shocked, first because they had “hard drinks”.  But mostly because I never realized that’s where the term “soft drinks” came from.
 
Yesterday afternoon, as everyone came together at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, it just seemed like a day Grandpa would’ve enjoyed.  There was lots of food, lots of dessert, lots of kids playing.  There were something like 12 of their offspring playing horseshoes at one point or another.  There were people to harrass in every room and in both the front and back yards. 
 
Maybe it comes with age, but I’m less confident of what I “know” now than I used to be.  I do know that Grandpa would’ve enjoyed yesterday.  I also know that he’d have been outraged to learn I paid $3.89 for gas.  I know that he was proud of Jeannie, Judy, and Barry, and all the grandkids and great-grandkids.  And that he might have pointed out a few flaws in some of us yesterday, had he been able.  I know he was proud of his service in the US Navy.  And I’m pretty sure that he was maybe a little embarassed of whatever they made him do on that ship the first time it crossed the equator when he was onboard. 
 
I don’t know, at all, if now was the right time for me and the kids, and all of us, to lose Grandpa Becking.  But I’ve given up trying to figure out when the right time is.  I know people go out of their way to tell me how wonderful they think both Grandpa and Grandma Becking are, and I’ll remember that.  I know Grandpa would’ve enjoyed being with everyone yesterday, and I’ll remember that.  I know that I’ll never leave that house without looking over to see him waving at us as we pull away.

Edited to add photo of JT Becking that ran with his obituary, the obituary is listed as a comment here.

Every year, as part of Partners In Education, Grant Elementary students’ artwork is selected for the “Hall of Fame.”  About 20 pieces are displayed first in the gallery at Boone County National Bank (Grant’s Partner In Education).  After about a month, the artworks is moved to Grant where it will hang in various places around the building for years to come.  At the “unveiling” each student stands in front of their artwork and talks a bit about it.  All in all, a cool thing.  Below are a couple of photos of Adelaide and “Baton Twirler” and from the event.

Five years ago, many friends and family combined to contribute time and money to finish a flower garden or three that Sarah had started, as a surprise for her while she recovered from the surprise surgery / diagnosis (which was five years ago today).  As Spring also finally arrives around this time each year, I try to make sure it looks decent again.  It’s all in thanks for those that donated at the time, in honor of Sarah still, in order to allow me some time reflecting on everything, and an excuse to be outside during these nice days.  Below are a few pictures of that (imagine everything more fully bloomed, better manicured, and with some real grass growing).  Contrary to a few rumors, none of it is meant to make the house more presentable because we’re selling it (we’re not).

Weird Panorama

Finally, Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers and grandmothers, but especially to all those in my life.  With the present making at school and the various plans everyone discusses, it’s a day/week that I worry about the kids quite a bit.  That worry is mostly pointless, as they continue to do well.  (But what better way to honor their mother than to worry about them.)

Here are a couple of items that might suprise you:

• I don’t really hate people just because they went to (or cheer for) ku.
• I do hate people yelling “M – I – Z” at me when I’m walking down the street.

On the ku thing, I like pretending to hate them.  Sometimes I actually do come close to hating individual players or teams of theirs.  It should be noted this was much easier when dadgum ole Roy was the coach.  I actually like Self, and until he won them a national championship*, I’m fairly confident I liked him better than most beaker fans did.

(*I also like pointing out that they claim 5 national championships, but only won 3.  Two were awarded years later by some random dude.   One of those some other random dude says Mizzou won.  So, give them credit for winning 3.  Yay them.  I further like pointing out that they went on probation for NCAA violations after each of those 3 they did win, so really, yay inconsequential NCAA violation policies.)

See, I don’t hate them.  I just hate the we’re so much better than you and have better morals too attitude that many of them go out of their way to crow about (free state nonsense, NCAA violations, MU fans were so mean to me/some random person I read about online, etc.).  Cheer for your team, I don’t care, just don’t claim to be morally superior and I’m fine.

Speaking of crows, there was a ku lady fan sitting near us at the Big 12 Tournament in KC.  We sat through three games on Thursday, she played Angry Birds on her iPad the entire time.  I’m not sure she was aware basketball games were being played.  The fourth game was Mizzou vs Texas Tech.  For this game, she played Angry Birds anytime Mizzou was ahead.  When Texas Tech scored to take the lead, her husband would nudge her, she’d put down Angry Birds, stand up and scream like crazy.  When Mizzou went back ahead, she went back to Angry Birds.  This story has no point, it was just entertaining (annoying) to watch.  (And in the interest of fairness, many Mizzou fans nearby were much more annoying than Angry Bird or any of the other nearby beaks.)

So, to sum, since none of that was overly clear.  I really don’t hate you if you went to ku or cheer for the mythical shoe-wearing birds.  Unless you act like an ass, in which case I probably do.  Similarly, though, if you’re constantly griping because Mizzou doesn’t have a fullback, or were mad because Brad Smith didn’t take enough snaps under center, I probably hate you too.

On M I Z, and then naturally also pertaining to Z O U, I love love love love the sound of that cheer in the fourth quarter of a football game, maybe with a little rain falling, cold enough that I can see my breath, when 70,000 are screaming the Tigers on to victory.  Transfer that to basketball environment, I’m equally in favor of it.  I’m not at all, however, in favor of it in small group settings.  I’m walking down the street, you’re on the other sidewalk, you yell “M I Z!”, I’m annoyed.  My historic reaction has just been to give you a little nod out of politeness, probably respond with a gentle “Go Tigers,” that’s it.  I’ve finally relented over the past few months, I now do respond “Z O U.”  I don’t really mean it, but I do it anyway.  No point in making sure random strangers think I’m an ass too, I figure.

Finally, my ranking of obnoxious fans, based solely on my travel to games.  The unquestionable leader, although tamed considerably after Mizzou started beating them handily, are CU football fans.  Outside of the stadium you could count on someone jumping in your face and yelling trash while you were walking through the parking lot.  Second, random ku female fans.  Most are great, but similarly it’s a safe bet that some college-aged female will start yelling hatred from across the street.  Third, a very close third, are Texans in trucks driving around Austin.  I really think the only reason I rank the Texans third is because I know none of them had likely ever even been to a game.

on a side note, screw ku.

Man it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything here.  The other joint where I blog is not feeling much more love, perhaps today will be the day of writing.

Hmm, what’s gone one since my last prose?  Oh, I quit my job, so there’s that.  On our Christmas Card letter, I wrote that I was still gainfully employed at Miller’s Professional Imaging.  Over the past several months though, I simply wasn’t enjoying it as much.  So on Jan 13, I gave notice (accompanied by a cryptic tweet), and then drank heavily.  After consideration over the weekend, I was more certain that I’d made the right choice, even though I was not at all certain what I’d do next.

February 1 was my first day of unemployment.  And after 8 years at Miller’s, they closed both facilities that day.  The kids were out of school 7 of the next 15 week days, due to weather or calendar quirks, so we’ve spent a lot of time together.  I’ve had more than a few conversations about jobs, have found lots of people that seem genuinely interested in helping me find something, but thus far haven’t settled on anything (so send those openings/offers my way).

Several people have asked me if I regretted leaving.  No.  Not even a little.  I liked what I did and where I worked for the majority of the time I was there, but I didn’t anymore.  There are both general and specific reasons for it, some of which continue to be proven to me occasionally, and few of which could I reasonably expect to improve, so the time to move on was clear.

As for what I’ll do next, I’m exploring.  My job at Miller’s was difficult to explain.  Sometimes it was simply HR manager, sometimes it was much more, sometimes it was much less.  I commonly told people that my job was to drink Mt. Dew and tell jokes.  Since leaving, the best compliment I’ve received, undoubtedly, was a co-worker telling me they hadn’t laughed out loud since.  I want to work with people that are great, in a company that is growing, and be involved in a wide variety of conversations.  I’d like their mission statement to be something like “Be Nice.  Have Fun.  Laugh Daily.  Do Good.”  And I’d like them to fire people immediately that violate any of those four things.

The kids think I should become a football coach.  So they could get autographs of all the players.  Funny, as someone in the athletic department made a similar comment to me.  More funny, as I’ve long said that if I ever won the lottery I’d just hang out at football practice in the spring and fall.  (I originally wrote “…. I’ve long joked that….” but I’m really not joking.) Coach Pinkel, I’m available, just saying.  I can directly relate to every short fat slow guy you have on your team, which will conveniently give me lots of time to watch the games.

In addition to looking around, I’m also trying to explore some ideas of things I can do on my own.  We’ll see.  Part of my exploring will include a trip to Mexico, starting tomorrow, to drink fruity drinks and soak up the sun.  Ha ha, suckers.  See you in March, the month of Jason Becking finding a job/plan/someone who’ll let us live with them.

Our Christmas cards are going out in today’s mail, so look for yours soon.  Unless I don’t have your address or don’t like you.  Pics of the cards are below, can click to see larger versions.  The text follows as well.

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours!

Happy Christmas, Merry New Year, and Holiday Joy from Adelaide, Jack, and Jason!  If you missed last year’s card from us, perhaps it is because we didn’t send any.  If you didn’t miss last year’s card from us, feel free to stop reading now, before the yearly recap.

Jack Thayer is 5 and now a school kid, going to kindergarten at Grant Elementary, which he likes very much.  His classmates are mostly boys, so he is able to find lots of willing participants in games, sports, and mischief.  He routinely gets all check marks on his weekly report sheet, with a “check-minus” for the allows others to finish their work category.  Seems he is a bit of a talker and joke-maker, a trend which has carried over from preschool.

Adelaide is now in second grade, in the land of (just a few) trailers at Grant.  She was glad to again have good friends in her class, but with only two classes in her grade, seems likely that will always be the case.  She is a creative, funny girl of strong opinions.

Both kids enjoyed basketball and soccer camps at Columbia College and we had a great trip to Colorado during the summer.  Our Spring Break trip to Disney (cruise & theme parks) will be long-remembered, as will numerous smaller trips to places near and far.  Adelaide is still dancing at CPAC (tap and jazz) while Jack is in favor of all sports, but not playing any organized sports yet.

Jason is still gainfully employed at Miller’s Professional Imaging / Mpix.com.  Feel the quality of this paper.  Look at the stunning prints.  Now go laugh at our competitors’ weak attempts (or not, really, a lot of those places do a fine job too, but come on, we have “Mizzou” billboards, and you can order at home in your underwear).  He again attended a ridiculous number of Mizzou events and helped host a growing number of fans at Mizzou tailgates.  And again enjoyed a lovely football season.

We’re lucky to have close friends and close family, both located nearby and in locations scattered around the country and the world.  Thank you for being part of that group, we hope 2011 is the best year yet.

Sadly, the final home game of the season is upon us yet again.  The Tigers host the Wildcats from k-state on Saturday, at 11:30.  Tailgate fare is again provided by Hoss’s Market, courtesy of Miller’s Professional Imaging.  Biscuits and gravy, egg casserole, pulled pork sandwiches, and so on will be served beginning by 9:30 a.m., I’ll be there well before that.  Not sure if the kids will be in attendance or not, should your decision be influenced by that in any way.

As appropriate for a visit by the grumpy old man coach in purple, I assume we’ll hear lots and lots of grumblings in our section from the old timers about how awful things have been recently.  They’ll also refer to how grumpy old man is a much better coach than our guy.  They won’t refer to grumpy’s 21-22 record over the past 3+ seasons, compared to our guy’s 37-11 mark in that time.   I assume they’ll also not refer to the fact that we’ll still win 10 games this year, before the bowl game, are going to celebrate the winningest senior class in Tiger history, and are generally in pretty good shape.  Better to be irrationally grumpy in mid-Missouri (pot, kettle, hi.)

They’ll have senior day festivities before the game, so go in early and cheer for these guys, all of whom are on track to graduate in May.  The third straight year, I think, that all seniors will have graduated.  Go Tigers!