First Week at the New Job

August 7, 2009 by Sparks 1 Comment

Man – what a long week, but completely exhilarating and, well . . . fun!

As most of you know, I am now CTO of a small interactive media and IT shop based out of Orlando called Hooah.

What does “Hooah” mean, you ask? If you’re in the military or are closely affiliated with the military you already know what it means. For those of you not in the know, it’s an exclamation of emphasis that means “anything but no.”

  • Climb the hill and take out the entriched enemy, sir? HOOAH!
  • Clean the latrine, sir? HOOAH!
  • Work 60+ hours a week to get the job done? HOOAH!

That’s the name of the company and the driving attitude behind the vision. Anything but no. No is not in the vocabulary. We work hard, and we play hard.

Hooah has been around for six years and, until recently, has focused on government and military print and interactive media contracts. By bringing me onto the team as CTO, the company now has the ability bring in and work more IT projects.

I hit the ground running. I arrived to work at 8:00am on Monday and by 2:00pm I was in the downtown offices of OUC (Orlando Utility Company) playing a key role in pitching our services for a complete website redesign.

On Tuesday I was installing servers from the Army National Guard into our Orlando offices to serve as the development and staging environment for http://www.virtualarmory.com. We flew down our network engineer from DC and we worked to get the servers installed, a VPN established, and connectivity working between DC and Orlando. Admittedly, I mostly watched as Perry did the work, but we were there until 9:00pm on Tuesday working on it.

Wednesday I was meeting with potential clients in the office and fleshing out their technology needs.

Thursday I was up at the crack of dawn and flying to DC to meet my team in DC. I met with high-level military officers in charge of the virtualarmory website, and others, I met my team and got to know them, I rolled up my sleeves and put together desks and helped create our new DC office space.

Thursday night my boss and I hit every bar in Crystal City and paid the price for our extravagance.

Friday morning I met with my team in DC and began formulating a communication and action plan for the tasks and jobs ahead of us.

I flew home this afternoon and immediately kissed my fiance and sent her out the door to her bachelorette party while I took my daughter and her best friend to the movies.

After the movies, I brought them home and took a 2-mile run and showered.

So here I am, mentally drained, physically exhausted, but completely satisfied with my week. Carey is still getting her party on, and I’m taking a few moments of silence to pen this blog.

We got the OUC contract, by the way and among their comments on why we won they stated that the technical expertise we displayed (me) was a significant factor.

Next week I’ll most like spend a say or two in North Carolina on another Army National Guard contract I am managing. The following week it looks like I’ll be back in DC for the entire week.

Am I ready for another week of this? HOOAH!

A couple of pictures of my week for you:


Me in my new office. I really need to get the walls painted.


The view from our DC office. Technically it’s in Crystal City, just outside DC and near the Pentagon, but it sounds cooler to say “DC office.”

Some of the DC team. From left to right: Katie, Josh, Jorge, Sorak, and Perry.

Work

Did Chemo Brain Influence My Decision?

July 30, 2009 by Sparks 1 Comment

I finished chemotherapy in January 2009. If you’ve read my blogs to date, you know that chemotherapy was much more traumatizing to my body than I thought it would be – but I always assumed the effects would be temporary and that once I was over the toxic side-effects, it would be done.In fact, I atssumed that radiation therapy would be my biggest challenge to overcome in the long term. For the most part this has been true; I have a hard mass of scar tissue under my skin on my neck. I have much less saliva than I used to have. I have difficulty swallowing because of the scar tissue in my throat.Since I came back to work, though, I have noticed some mental changes as well. I am not the same man I used to be. There is some “fuzziness” in my thinking. I am not able to speak as quickly as I used to – the thoughts that were always on the tip of my tongue, fighting to get out, come at a more leisurely pace now. I am not quite as quick-witted as I used to be. I have to be more deliberate and thorough in my actions; I tend to get more easily distracted and have a more difficult time focusing on multiple things at one time.I have, in short, post-chemotherapy cognitive impairment, or chemo brain for short. According to wikipedia, about 20-30% of people suffer from post-chemotherapy impairment. Some people have severe cases; I think I have a rather mild case. Still, I definitely have some form of chemo brain.

I also notice that my emotional responses to things are different than they used to be. I am not sure if I can pin that completely on chemo brain, though. Going through cancer treatments and rehabilitation changes a man; my emotional outlook may simply be a reflection of who I am as a man now. I am certainly more humble than I used to be.

There is one troubling issue though. I gave notice to my job last week. Tomorrow is my last day. I have been with this company for over three years. I met my fiance here. I love this company, the culture, and what it stands for. It’s got amazing benefits, brilliant people, and a lot of chaos and energy.

I got the offer to become the CTO (Chief Technology Officer) of a small company here in town. It’s a great offer, but not substantially better than where I am now. The biggest benefit, for me, is that I’ll be flying back and forth to DC frequently and I’ll be working with a long-time friend, surfing buddy, and business associate. I’ll be very entrepreneurial, will define the standards for a company’s technology strategy from the ground-up, and it is a step up in my career. Being a CTO is pretty much what I have always aspired to be, in this particular career path.

The decision to leave was much, much, much harder than any other professional decision I have ever had to make. Never before have I struggled with a career decision as I have with this one. I had a hard time separating logical reasons to stay or leave from emotional ones.

Emotionally, I have friends here, people who aren’t that fond of me, a history or success, and some failures. This company was here for me as I went through my cancer treatments. I met my fiance here. I have a lot of history here.  I have a lot of friends here.

Logically, the chaos, while getting better every day, has put a lot of gray hair on my head – and I know my chemo-brain is impacting my work. being a CTO will be a stretch at first, but it’s what I have wanted.  But, the CEO of my current company is the most visionary person I have ever met; I’ve never seen anyone dream bigger, and motivate an entire company to put it into practice.

I really struggled with that – emotional versus logical; pros versus cons. The chemo fog in my brain prevents me from seeing this as clearly as I would like; so I don’t really have that 100% certainty I have always had to date that I am doing the right thing.

Don’t get me wrong; I am intelligent, hard-working, and will always land on my feet. I am not uncertain that I will fail or that this decision will harm me or my family for years to come. I am good at what I do and will succeed.

But here I am, a day away from closing one door to open another, and I wonder; how much did Chemo Brain affect my decision to change jobs?

Cancer, Life
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Debater Haters

July 23, 2009 by Sparks 1 Comment

I realized today, while talking to my sister, that many people probably misunderstand me. I come off as arrogant, elitist, eager to get the last word in, intolerant, and even angry at times. Especially in online social networks, like Twitter, FaceBook, and others where there is no ability to temper the severity of my words with gestures of expressions. But even in real life, this is often the case as well.

I have lost online friends. I have co-workers avoid me. People hesitate to speak their mind in my presence because they think I might jump down their throat. I will quibble over the silliest of points. I will spend hours debating the meaning of a certain inflection you used when talking to me. I will unfailingly point out flaws in your arguments when you talk to me, especially when you use a logical fallacy against me.

So what gives? Why am I such an asshole?

The short answer:
I don’t think I am an asshole. I think people don’t understand what motivates me.

The long answer:
I love to debate. Seriously. I really, really, really love it. I am a lifelong student and lover of knowledge. I seek, ever constantly, to expand my knowledge. I seek, actively, to challenge my own beliefs.

That’s the key statement, people: I seek, actively, to challenge my own beliefs.

I love the debate for the sake of the debate. I love the verbal sparring. The fencing between two opponents as they debate is beautiful to watch. It is exciting to be a part of it.

I don’t have to be right when I debate; in fact I love being proven wrong. I look forward to finding someone who can poke holes in my logic and leave me scratching my head. That’s a person I want to hang around – they challenge me. I enjoy the mental tightrope of knowing I am right and trying to find the perfect way to present it so the truth is . .. well . . . as obvious to you as it is to me.

The thing is, other people don’t like that. In fact, most of you don’t like it at all. You hate it. And I don’t understand you at all. I don’t understand why you don’t demand more of yourself. I don’t understand why or how you can blindly accept as dogma the things you hear and see and not ever question it but instead strike back at me when I ask simple questions. It’s not MY fault you haven’t thought your position through and have only emotional responses to give me.

I have watched you get downright angry – spitting angry – when you feel like I back you into a corner with my questions. You hate, hate, hate having to admit that what you think or believe is illogical at best – irrational at worst. You are disgusted with those of us who challenge you, but you absolutely loathe and despise those of us who categorically state that we do NOT share your belief, especially when we see them to be irrational.

And the thing is, I am not trying to offend you. I am doing what I do – what I would like others to do to me more often. I am digging into the things you say to me, freely and of your own will, and trying to weed through emotional responses and get to the heart of the issue.

I don’t think I am doing you a favor – your personal gratification has nothing to do with it. I do it because I must. Because that’s who I am.

I understand now that most people are debater haters – they’re content to accept what they know and leave it at that. The problem is – I am not so content. To me, that blind acceptance of what you “know” to be true has caused most of the problems we’ve faced in the history of our race. After all, we all “knew” that there were only four elements a few thousand years ago. We “knew” that the best way to deal with sickness was to bleed a patient nigh unto death. We “knew” that the Earth was flat. We “knew” that it was a natural order that some must be masters and other slaves.

How many things to you “know” and accept blindly? We all do, to some extent. Even me. The big difference between me and most others, though, is I WANT to find these blind beliefs of mine and excise them from my system. I consider them dark blemishes and I want to shine a light on them.

You may not like me for disagreeing with your opinion, but you hate me for pushing to to find out exactly why you have your opinion. And I have a theory as to why some hate me for it.

They hate me for it because I expose them to be shallow and unthinking. They hate me for forcing them to recognize that they are blind followers of people in their social circle. They hate me for making them realize that they have given up so much of themselves just so they can get the transient comfort of feeling like they belong.

Not everyone hates the debate. Not everyone despises me and my incessant questions, my pointing out of fallacies, and my general love of debate. Many of you reading this are just like me – you are my equals and we spar verbally all the time. Some of you are my superiors – I strive to think as clearly about issues as you do.

Some of you have felt the sting of my words and assumed I was attacking you because I debated you. But it’s not true. I attack issues. I don’t attack people. It’s just too bad that so many people assume I am making a personal attack when I just want o talk about an issue.

I can hate the idea you just presented to me, and still love you dearly as a person. That’s how I roll. How do you roll?

Life

Pseudo-Science and Religion

July 21, 2009 by Sparks 4 Comments

I was raised in a pretty religious household. We went to church every Sunday morning. I was active in Sunday school. I often went to the less formal Wednesday services. I was a geek even then; I looked forward to “Find the Verse” contests where the person who could find a verse in the Bible the fastest won a prize. I was the “youth preacher” from time-to-time; I was the kid they let talk in front of the masses. It was a great honor and I was very proud.

Even as a child, I had a bent towards the logical and scientific. Yes; it’s possible to be logical and religious. Consistency is the key – and not venturing beyond well-established boundaries. For example, I read in a physics textbook by Asimov one time that the ancient Greeks had a perfectly valid logical system of science that revolved around the four Elements; Wind, Earth, Water, and Fire. They were able to build complex machines and perform real science within that framework.

See, folks, that’s the main tenet of science – use what works. Until it doesn’t work any more. Then you find new things that work – until those new things don’t work any more. Rinse and repeat.

That’s the difference between science and religion. When something doesn’t work in science – we throw it out and try something new. In religion, we tend to keep what doesn’t work and shut out the proof of our senses and observations.

And that’s OK. Faith, as they say, is the evidence of things not seen. Faith doesn’t require science to work. Science doesn’t need a god for validity.

So here we are, celebrating the 40th anniversary of the Apollo moon landings, and I am reminded of the biggest betrayal of religion I had as a kid. This one betrayal forever changed me and put me on the road of skepticism.

I was in sixth grade, searching for meaning in life. Scared to death that I would wake one day and find my parents just a pile of clothes on the floor and that I had slept through and missed the Rapture. I was already harboring doubts about the “facts” presented to me in church and I was feeling abysmally guilty about those doubts.One day, though, I was given a Christian Science comic book by a member of the congregation. the Truth had been revealed to me! This comic became my new Bible. It was amazing – this comic took modern day scientific dogma and refuted it. There were a number of “scientific debunking” in the comic book. One was about the broken fossil record and how carbon-14 dating was so wildly inaccurate that it would age my cat at 10,000 years old.

But the one that really stuck out – the one that meant so much to a young stargazer such as myself – was the Age of the Universe debunking based on the amount of lunar dust on the surface of the moon as reported by Apollo 11’s crew.

I don’t remember the exact argument, but it went something like this: based on the amount of meteoric dust that fell on the moon every year, there was no way the Earth could be even a million years old, let alone the billions as claimed by scientists. With no tectonic movement to pack the dust and no atmosphere to disperse the dust, it would just lie loosely on the surface, an ever-deeper fine powder that would have sunk the lander into a deep morass of dust, possibly completely covering it, until it finally settled.

Holy cow. I finally had the evidence I needed to not only put my ever-growing doubts to rest but to take it to the masses. I knew something that modern scientists either didn’t know or were covering up.

I spent the better part of the school year, the following summer, and into my seventh grade year at DeLaura Junior High School in Satellite Beach, Florida repeating what I had learned. One day, though, my seventh grade science teacher heard me quoting from the comic book.

I wish I could remember his name, but I can’t. He very gently pulled me aside and introduced me to the concept of pseudo-science. He explained to me that my faith was my faith and science was science. Like oil and water, he explained, they don’t mix well together. He never disparaged my beliefs – but he did take the time to tell me how certain people in religious circles were seeking validity by using pseudo-science to provide proof of their God or religion – or more often to simply debunk anything that appeared to contradict a religious doctrine.

According to Wikipedia: pseudoscience is a methodology, belief, or practice that is claimed to be scientific, or that is made to appear to be scientific, but which does not adhere to an appropriate scientific methodology, lacks supporting evidence or plausibility, or otherwise lacks scientific status. The term comes from the Greek root pseudo- (false or pretending) and “science” (from Latin scientia, meaning “knowledge”).

My science teacher went on to explain the pseudo-science in the comic. The rate of meteoric dust that falls on the moon is much, much less than what my comic book stated. The comic stated the lander should have sank over 50 feet into the dust if the Earth were just a few billion years old. Today we know that the moon accumulates only an inch or two every billion years. A great summary of this lives argument here.

I wanted it to be an honest mistake – but it wasn’t. The amount of moon dust accumulation has been well-known since the 1960’s. My comic was published in the 1980’s. I realized that an unforgivable sin had been committed – I had been lied to by the people I trusted most.

If I was lied to about this issue – what else had they been lying to me about? I was crushed. Completely.

And thus a skeptic was born.

Don’t mix your science and your religion people. They just don’t go together and it’s futile for religious advocated to seek validity by going head to head against scientific reasoning. Faith is faith and science is science.

Science
,

The Sparks Family Rules

July 14, 2009 by Sparks 1 Comment

It’s almost 8:00am and I am tired to the bone. I haven’t slept a wink. Matthew and Christopher had guests over last night – four of them total – and they kept me up most of the night. They were not too loud. They were not too rowdy. They were just teen-aged boys doing what they do. They were having a good time, laughing, and cutting up. I really enjoy having them over; they’re a hoot. But still – I didn’t sleep. My bedroom isn’t isolated from the rest of the house and I can hear everything from my room.

I made an exception when I let four guests stay over on a night when I work the next day. I want my children to enjoy their summer vacation, but lately it seems as if the exceptions I make are becoming the expected norm for the children. I am getting push-back and attitude when I can’t be, or don’t want to be, as flexible as they would like.

I get all sorts of minor rebellions. I get the over-questioning of a decision. I get the rolling of the eyes. The half second pause before they answer me (as if to say “you’re a dumb ass dad”). The exaggerated sigh.

I’ve been very lenient, and I feel that they are starting to take advantage of me – all three of my children. I have let it happen in my desire to be a good dad who is “cool”. I still carry some guilt about all the things they couldn’t do while I was in cancer treatments – and things we even still shy away from because I am not fully healed physically and mentally.

My children aren’t malicious, mind you. I have great children. I have just let the exceptions to most of my rules become the norm – I have allowed the structures I keep in place to fall to the wayside. All in the name of “summer vacation” and “cancer guilt.”

I have decided to get us back on track. I have devised my “Hours of Operation,” my “House Rules,” and my “House Guidelines.” They are codes of conduct and expectations for the entire family, myself included. I expect us all to abide by and sign off on these Rules.

I never thought I would create a “legal” document for the family – but it makes a lot of sense. My kids are smart. All of them. They are experts at loopholes. My 15-year-old son is the worst – he wants all the freedoms of a man but isn’t ready for it yet. He pushes the boundaries constantly. He’s never overtly disrespectful – he’s a great kid – but he more than anyone drives the exceptions to be the norm. He’s blazing the trail for the others. He reminds me a lot of myself at his age.

The “legal” document is still a draft, but I thought I’d leave you with an excerpt or two from it. Tell me what you think!

House Rules (excerpt)

II. You shall strive to maintain a “B” average in all classes.
this is your goal. We understand that some classes will be more difficult than others.

III. You shall clean your room daily.
this means all glasses are removed, all messes are cleaned, and all corners and nooks are free of dust, debris, and muck.

IX. You shall carry your cell phone and keys with you any time you leave the house.
Your phone must be on and not on silent-all. It must have minutes on it. You must answer when called.

House Guidelines (excerpt)

Respect
This house operates under one rule; we will respect one another. You will talk politely to your parents and to each other. You will not talk down to each other. You will share house resources without conflict (TVs, laptops, chairs, etc). You will abide by all decisions made by Mom and Dad without attitude. Attitude is any behavior that expresses displeasure in a non-respectful way; rolling of the eyes, blank stares when asked a question, raised voices, pouting, sulking, etc.

Exceptions to Rules
Mom and Dad will occasionally grant an exception to a rule; do not expect that exception to become the norm. Do not ever say “but last time you let me. . . “ or you will quickly lose any flexibility we might give you.

Signature Page (excerpt)

I __________________________________ commit to abide by these Hours of operations, House Rules, and House Guidelines (hereafter “Rules”). I understand that these Rules are not intended to punish me or to unduly constrain me, but are designed to help ensure my personal health, provide me with an environment in which I can enjoy my life, provide a structure that will enable me to succeed in my academic endeavors, and produce a reasonable set of expectations that govern the entire household.

I understand that as a member of this household my actions affect everyone in the household. I agree that in addition to love, respect and communication are the foundation of a good family. I will participate in family activities and discussions. I agree to examine my actions and objectively see how these actions affect others in my household. I agree to respect myself at all times and to respect my family.

Anyway – it’s all very interesting. I hope that this will help us get back on track, especially with schedules, as summer winds down. These kids are going to have a hard time adjusting to the school year if I don’t quickly start getting them back on schedule.

 

Family

Engagement Photos

July 11, 2009 by Sparks 4 Comments


You all know I proposed to Carey in January; right in the middle of my chemotherapy and radiation. It was a magnificent and wonderful day, full of love and promise. I was so weak I could barely walk to through the gardens where I proposed to her, but I wasn’t going to let a little thing like cancer get in the way of true love. No way. No how.

Here we are – almost six months later. The wedding is three months away. The days are counting down. It’s really going to happen and i am so excited. I never really doubted that it would happen, but I did have my anxieties about being able to stand at the alter. In my darkest hours, as I was puking blood , unable to swallow, unable to walk, and so weak that even chill shivers made it impossible to move I held onto one image in my brain – watching Carey walk down the aisle towards me.

Two weeks ago we met with our photographer. her name is Julie Brewer and she is an amazing photographer. If she can take a subject like me and make me look good – you know she’s quality. You can find her website at http://www.brewerphotovideo.com/. I can’t recommend her highly enough, people.

Anyway, we met her two weeks ago in downtown Winter Park, Florida. Since we are getting married in the Gardens, we decided we wanted a more urban feel for our engagement photos. We paid extra, of course, for the engagement photos, but I am so glad we did. These pictures are fantastic. We brought the kids and got pictures of all of us.

Julie has shared only a few samples with us so far – but I will share the entire album as soon as we get access to it on her website. You’ll be able to order any print you want. So, without further adieu, the engagement photo sample of the Sparks-Dobson family!







Wow – look at us. Hard to believe that I am marrying such a beautiful and special woman as Carey. She is simply stunning. Gorgeous. I am a lucky, lucky man.

And hard to believe that less than six months ago I was in the middle of chemo and radiation. Without Carey’s love, support, and affection I would not have recovered so well. My entire support system is amazing – Carey, my children, my family, and my friends have all been there for me.

Thank you all – your love and support have made an impact on me. I truly believe that without it I would not be in those pictures above.

Cancer, Wedding

Chewing Gum and Cancer

June 28, 2009 by Sparks 0 Comments

Before you’re the age of seven your mother is scared to death to let you chew a stick of gum. It might get stuck in your throat – lodged in a perverse definition of the name and gum up your breathing. Later, when you’ve reached enough “maturity,” you’re allowed a small Chicklet and you walk around proudly chewing your gum as your mother hovers over you waiting for a choking disaster to strike.

Then, one day, you’re allowed to chew gum unsupervised. You upgrade immediately to Bubblicious or Bazooka gum. You’re the talk of the town and immediately way more funny than you used to be because you memorize the jokes on the bubble gum wrapper.

Yes – life is good for you.

You continue to diversify your gum tastes as you grow older. You experiment with gumballs, cinnamon gum, and even that strange zebra Fruit Stripe gum. Each stick of gum is an explosion of tooth-decaying flavor that lasts for a few short minutes before you spit it out and reach for another stick.

I used to be just like you, you know. It’s true – I was. I, too, would chew gum whenever I wanted to. I might, just for the hell of it, have a pack in my car, another at my office, one next to my bed on the nightstand. I was not addicted to gum – but it certainly had a place in my life.

Until I got cancer, that is.

The cumulative effects of my radiation therapy killed the salivary glands on the left side of my face and I was told that the right side salivary glands might come back one day. No guarantees; just hold your proverbial breath and wait, Mr. Sparks.

The good news is that they were right; I have slowly been experiencing a resurrection of the salivary glands on the right side of my face. When my treatments ended I literally woke up every hour on the hour to moisten my mouth with water. I carried enzyme mouth sprays designed to moisten my mouth like real saliva does (it’s not the same, by the way – not even close). I had a $500.00/month mouth rinse designed to help my mouth stay moist and revive my salivary glands.

On Friday, three days ago, I had my first stick of gum since I was diagnosed with cancer! It was a small stick of Eclipse gum!

Carey and I were driving somewhere, I don’t remember where, when I absently reached down and took a stick of gum from her car stash. She didn’t say anything, because it was obvious that I was oblivious to what I was doing and she wanted to know how it was going to play out.

I tossed it into my mouth and started chewing. An onrush of saliva from the right side of my mouth moistened the gum as I began to chew. It took me a moment, but I slowly realized what I had done.

“Honey!” I said, “I’m chewing gum!”

“I know,” she smiled at me, “how does it taste?”

I was in pure bliss for a moment – until my saliva started drying up. I only make a little saliva now, but it was enough to allow me to chew the gum for five minute before I was forced to spit it out because my mouth was too dry.

I tried switching the gum from my left cheek to my right – but that was a disaster. With absolutely zero saliva on the left side the gum instantly turned into stale rubber and I was forced to switch back to the right side where at least a trickle of saliva made it more malleable and gave it some taste.

I feel like I’ve crossed a major milestone – but all I’ve done is chew a stick of gum. Still – for a guy who just a couple of months ago couldn’t speak three complete sentences without a drink of water this is fantastic.

Yay me!

Cancer, Recovery

A Wedding Argument

June 19, 2009 by Sparks 2 Comments

It’s funny how silly the arguments a couple have are when you step back to objectively look at them. Carey and I skirt over sensitive issues that would have other couple reduced to blows with nary a glance. We recognize the signs of stress and emotional investment in nearly every situation we find ourselves in and work together to back down before a situation turns into an argument.

If you want to talk about the color scheme on our wedding program, though, you better bring it on!

Yesterday I had a small lull at the end of the work day and decided to burn a few minutes looking at options for wedding programs. We have a firm grasp on our invitations, but the invitations we’re interested in don’t have a program of the same style. So I hit the Internet to see what I could find.

Since we’re getting married in front of an old plantation-style house in the middle of a huge botanical garden, Carey thought it might be nice to have the wedding programs be fans as well. It brings back the old Southern image of sitting under a tree, sipping iced teas, and fanning yourself in the heat. I loved that image, so I went looking for some fans.

I found some great choices and called Carey over to my desk. We were looking at them and making the appropriate ooohing and ahhing sounds as we got closer to the one we really liked. I enlarged it, and used the website to make color combinations for the fan and the wording.

One of our primary colors for the wedding is navy blue, so I made the background of the fan that color. I perused the other color choices and picked a nice “mango” color for the text.

It looked awesome. I really, really, liked the way it looked and said so.

Carey just said, “No. It looks too much like University of Florida colors. Besides, they don’t match our wedding colors.”

Did she just say “no” to me? Did she just shut me down without even the chance of compromise or negotiation? She must be out of her damned mind!

I planted my proverbial feet and retorted, “I can’t BELIEVE you’re making a choice like this based on the fact that it reminds you of a college color!”

She said, “I just don’t like the color combination.”

“Because you went to FSU and it reminds you of a college rivalry?” I asked incredulously.

“No,” she said, “… well, that’s part of it, but I have never liked those colors together.”

“You’ve been out of school for ten years,” I shook my head in annoyance. “I can’t accept that. I won’t allow MY wedding to be dictated by some silly loyalty to a school.”

“It’s my opinion,” she glared at me, “are you calling me silly for having an opinion?”

I threw my hands wide, “YES! In this case, I am. I don’t understand that viewpoint, I don’t WANT to understand it. “

She stared at me. Yes, I was being given THE STARE.

It worked.

“Fine,” I grumbled, shutting off my monitor, “you pick the colors. I don’t get to pick anything anyway – I’m just a spectator in my own wedding.”

“Now you’re just being a jerk,” she said, and stalked out of my office.

We didn’t talk to each other as we got in the car that evening to go home. I drove a good ten miles before she looked over at me and said “Do you want to know why I was angry with you?”

Wait – she was angry at ME? What the hell had I done? Oh wait, I thought to myself sarcastically, I got excited about our wedding and went looking for stuff without asking for permission first.

I didn’t say that, though. She was withing striking distance and I was going 70mph.

I sighed and said, “Why were you angry at me?”

“Because, ” she said, “you didn’t give me a chance to compromise.”

Whhhaaaaaaaa? I blinked.

Then I blinked again. I considered putting a finger in my ear; I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.

“You picked blue and orange,” she said, ” and as soon as you heard that one of my reasons for disliking it was because if was Florida’s colors, you shut down and told me to just pick. You didn’t care. You gave up.”

“Well,” I started, “I really, really liked those colors. You didn’t even consider my feeling or desires – you just said “no” and then gave a cock-a-maney excuse that, frankly, doesn’t hold water with me.”

“So my desires don’t count?” she asked, color coming into her cheeks.

“Of course they do,” I said, “when they aren’t based in some silly prejudice.”

I knew I had crossed her line at that point. THE STARE came out again.

“Look,” I said as I tried to plaster myself as far from her as possible in the car, “I love the Washington Capitals. I love Carl Edwards as a NASCAR driver, I like the Red Sox – but I would never base a color choice for my wedding on the fact that the colors were of the Yankees colors, for example. That just doesn’t make sense.”

THE STARE was still boring into my skull.

“Please,” I said miserably, “just give me a reason that isn’t based in this stupid college color rivalry. If you can’t, I won’t be able to let this go and we’ll end up with blue and orange bedsheets and blue and orange trim on the house before it’s over.”

“I already said,” she said through clenched teeth, “that orange is not in our color scheme.”

Oh.

She had.

I was about to let it go and move past, but she wasn’t done with me yet.

“You can’t just dismiss my feelings and opinions just because you don’t understand them, buster.” She wagged a finger at me, “For your information, blue and orange were my high school colors and I didn’t like them then either.”

“OK,” I replied, “but your FIRST response was the truest one. You said no because of college colors and didn’t even give me the chance to talk to you about it. YOU shut ME down.”

She looked at me for a second, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Well you did,” I said petulantly. “And when you did that I just got stubborn and you put me on the offensive. If you had at least said we could discuss it I would have immediately backed down.”

“Ha,” she said, “as if. You latched onto what you thought was my silly opinion and were determined to show me the error of my ways.”

God I hate it when she’s right.

“OK, I’m sorry.” I reached over tentatively to touch her, “You opinions are valid – but I didn’t like how you used it to shut me down completely and take away my choice.”

She put an arm around my shoulder and kissed my ear, “I’m sorry too. We’ll be more sensitive to how we approach these things now.”

She leaned against my shoulder and gently caressed my arm, “So, what colors do you think we should use on the programs?”

I didn’t hesitate, “Blue and orange.”

I never saw the hand that smacked the back of my head. Hard.

Wedding

Stupid Cancer

June 16, 2009 by Sparks 1 Comment

Carey on the bench where I proposed to her.

Three weeks ago Carey went back to her dermatologist for a checkup and found that she had four potential trouble spots on her back and abdomen. Moles that had all the appearance of being cancerous. Her doctor took four biopsies and sent her on her way to heal.

Last Thursday the news came back: one of the four was a problem. It wasn’t cancerous as her other one was (basal cell carcinoma) but it was a definite pre-cancerous mass – a low dysplasia. Wasting no time, Carey scheduled an appointment to have it removed yesterday.

Carey was a trooper as they removed this second mass from her back. I was so proud of her. They laid her down on a table, numbed her up, and then swiftly and surgically removed the mass and a small section of surrounding tissue. It was over in 10 minutes, but its effects will be felt for months.

As I sat there and watched Carey get this mass removed, a deep sadness welled up inside me. All I could think was “stupid cancer” petulantly. This past year has completely changed our lives – both Carey and myself, not to mention the rest of our family.

I feel like I had two lives -pre-cancer Ron and post-cancer Ron.

Pre-cancer Ron was out of shape, diabetic, and blissfully unaware of his own mortality. His biggest issues in life were dealing with work stress and trying to be as good a man/father/lover as he could be. There was no urgency to his life, though. If he failed a friend, he had all the time in the world to make it up to him. If he upset his children, he could resolve it later. If he screwed up at work, he could always get another job. If he made a mistake with his girlfriend he could take his time and fix it.

Pre-cancer Ron had a lot of potential but no real drive. He had time and time meant he could wait to figure it all out.

Post-cancer Ron is different. He is skinny, not yet in shape and still very weak, and lives in a near constant state of anxiety about his health and mortality. His diabetes is gone and his general health is better than it has been in over a decade. He knows he has no time to waste – that every day is a lifetime in and of itself. He sees colors more clearly. Even his taste, as it slowly returns, is more acute than it used to be. Post-cancer Ron doesn’t want to waste a single day on what-ifs. He works out often – he surfs as much as he can. He has committed to being a better friend. A better lover/fiance/husband. He lets his children know every day how much he loves them and tries to make sure they get the most of him that he can give. He takes his job more seriously now – he might have to leave again and he wants people to have favorable impressions of him should that happen.

After all, post-cancer Ron knows that at any day he could find out that his cancer has recurred and that he has to start the battle for his life all over again.

Pre-cancer Ron seems so naive and lazy.

I think Carey feels the same way with her “stupid cancer.” Her cancer is, thankfully, not a danger to her life, but it does change the way she sees herself and her body. She’s more careful with her body, more aware of the risks. We both have a new awareness and appreciation of life – and we’re both anxious about the future.

This has been weighing on me lately. I had my first set of clean scans 3 months ago and I have 3 months until I get my next scans. I’m at that point of a race where fatigue sets in – I am nervous and don’t want to wait another 3 months to find out if any cancer has recurred. I want to know now – the earlier I know the better, right?

But it’s not as simple as that. First, insurance won’t pay for early scans and they are fairly expensive. Second, the scans themselves inject radioactive liquids into my body and bombards me with radioactive rays – that’s a danger in and of itself. You have to be judicious in the application of radiation, I suppose.

Still, it sucks to be here – afraid to hope but trying not to let your life grind to a halt while you pretend like it’s all better.

Cancer

Because of a Gecko

May 24, 2009 by Sparks 1 Comment

That’s Einstein, the newest member of the clan. He’s a 10-week-old part Labrador, part Boxer, part Beagle puppy. Right now he’s 16.2 pounds and stands as tall as our beagle, Cassie. He’s going to be a big dog; Labs and Boxers both weigh in around 55-80 pounds. So I’m assuming he’ll be between 50-60 pounds fully grown.

How did this happen? All because of a lizard . . .

Our son Christopher has a Leopard Gecko named Roxy. It usually lives at his mom’s house, but it’s been at our house for a few weeks because I had to watch and feed the lizard while Christopher went on a vacation with his mom for a few days.

As it turns out, the live crickets that make up Roxy’s diet were all dead, so I had to go to a pet store to get some more. This was two weeks ago. Carey and I went into the pet store just to get the crickets – but there was a problem. They had puppies in the store.

Carey warned me. She said to me, “Don’t let me touch the puppies because I’ll want one.”

I laughed. Little did I know.

We walked around the store and there was this little cocker spaniel puppy that looked like a dog Carey used to own when she was a kid:

When Carey saw the puppy and started making the obligatory awwing and cooing, I had to get the employee to bring it out. Carey, with tears in her eyes, played with the puppy for about 20 minutes before she very reluctantly let it be led away.

I thought that was the end of it. She had a puppy fix. She longed for a puppy but was able to let it go.

How wrong I was.

Immediately after, I started getting links sent to me in IM from PetFinder.com. I didn’t even know the site existed – but the IMs were flooding in as we worked over the past two weeks. Dozens of them.

Last weekend she dragged me to the SPCA of Central Florida “just to look.” There was nothing there.

Then, yesterday, she informed me that Save-A-Pet Pet Rescue, a no-kill shelter in Central Florida, was sponsoring an adoption event at PetsSmart across town. The event was at 11:30am, so of course we arrived at 10:00am because she was so excited.

We were 5th in line by 10:00am – I was surprised at how many people were anxious to adopt a puppy. When the dogs finally arrived Carey immediately started watching them – how they behaved, their demeanor, etc. She had it narrowed down to two – from the same litter. One was a light grey runt with blue eyes and the other was a blond/tan with golden eyes.

The first person in line took the grey runt with blue eyes, so Carey was immediately anxious that her other choice would be taken before she got a chance to choose. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

When her time came, Carey gently worked her way through the crowd (it was HUGE by this time) and immediately picked up the puppy. This was the one.

We took the puppy aside and played with him for a few minutes. He tried to work the cap off of my bottle of water and he furrowed his brow in concentration. I laughed and said “He looks like a little Einstein!”

And so he was named. Einstein is his name forever more.

With tears in her eyes, Carey paid the adoption fee and we had a new puppy. This, then, is Einstein – the puppy we got all because of a lizard:

As a final note, I do want to stress to everyone reading this; don’t buy a puppy from a pet store or puppy mill. Pet rescues, the SPCA, individuals selling puppies, and the pound are they only way to go. I did get Cassie, our beagle, from a mill – and I don’t regret her purchase because we love her so much. But I wasn’t aware of the atrocities of the mill industry at the time (if you don’t have a pet it’s not something you really know about). I won’t do it again, now that I know.

Welcome Einstein to the family! Just remember folks – lizards are devious creatures. I’m sure this was Roxy’s nefarious plan from the start.

Life
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