44

I have always been fascinated with numbers. 

I learned to read numbers at 4 years old, sitting with my Dad reading the box scores from baseball games played the day before. It was 1962, a time when our country was in a much different place. Now, 27 years later, our 44th President, Barack Obama, is very different from the 43 Presidents before him.

As I watched the Inauguration today from my home with my Wife and Son, I kept thinking about my Dad. Why? Like our 44th President, my Dad is biracial––only he's half Mexican, half Irish. We've had a few conversations over the years about growing up in the '40's, '50's and '60's with a skin color that didn't match our last name. Once, he talked about trying to figure out if he was Mexican or White. To me, he was just Dad. But I could see the pride in his heritage––on both sides of his ancestry. He would talk about walking into a room with my Mother––who has the whitest skin of anyone I've ever known––and immediately feeling hate, ignorance and prejudice because he wasn't with "one of his kind." Little did people know that only made him more focused, more proud and more energized to prove to people that the color of your skin is only that––a color.

My Dad and I have talked more about politics before, during and after this historic election. We couldn't have more different views. But that's OK. More than OK, in fact. Because my Father also taught me––along with my Grandma Marie, Southern born and the most loving person I've ever known besides my Wife––that differences are what makes the world go 'round. It makes us smarter. Stronger. Wiser. Human. More humble. Americans.

I'm forever grateful that I have survived cancer so that I could witness the election of a person who doesn't fit the mold, the norm and the status quo. I used to love the number 44 because of my boyhood idol, Jerry West. He wore 44. He was tough. He was relentless. He was humble. But now I have another 44 to look up to and hope he delivers in the clutch, as Mr. Clutch himself did on the basketball court. This 44 also play hoops. A new idol, for today's 4 year olds to follow. 

Let the fascination begin.

Common Sense

Lately, I've been wondering how we all keep getting further away from using common sense. We seem to be overly impressed with intelligence––Mensa, PhD, MBA, Big Name College Goes Here––but somehow common sense gets overlooked. We try too hard to impress each other with our smarts.

It's funny, I'm more impressed by our new President's––OK, he's not officially our new President––common sense. He has the ability to use his God given intelligence AND common sense. I heard him talk about towns that want to pass laws banning baggy pants.  Obama said those laws are "a waste of time. Having said that, brothers should pull up their pants". http://gawker.com/5076025/youth-to-pull-up-pants-for-obama

Maybe I'm just not that smart, I don't know. I try to make things simple for myself, my family and the people I work with. The simpler, the better. Right? It drives me crazy when we try to out think what the other person will think. We try to "over intellectualize" things instead of stepping back and seeing the issue for what it really is. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being smart. But smart comes in many forms––street smarts, comes to mind. And Doctors. Now we're talking brain power.

Makes me chuckle, really. I have six Doctors. Well, I don't have them, they have me as a patient. Six very smart people. But man, can they make things seem complicated. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I had a ton of information being thrown at me by all these Doctors. I know I'm not the only patient who has been diagnosed with cancer, but I really had to grill some of my Doctors to get them to speak to me as a common person. I didn't spend years and years studying the human body. (Well, at least not to help cure diseases).

I wanted to know the real deal. What were my chances of surviving? Do I have to have surgery, radiation and chemo? What are the long term damages to my body? How long before I'm better? When do we start? I got all different kinds of answers from all of them. I got many opinions. I got pissed and told each one of them they better appoint a project manager, because I needed all of them on the same page. Let's get some communication here. You guys better talk to each other, check your egos at the door and come to agreement on all the shit you're doing to me. This is my life, people. Make sense?

Made perfect sense to me.