So I stopped wearing it. That was a bit before we started the renovation on the house. There was a fair amount of chaos at that time. Our entire home was torn apart, we moved from house to house and room to room, and somehow… I lost it.

I hadn’t said anything about it for a while (and by a while, I mean years.) I quietly looked for it. It was only recently that I decided to tell my wife. I figured, with our 20th anniversary just past, I would like to start wearing a wedding ring again. So I asked her to help me pick one for my 45th birthday, a kind of anniversary/birthday gift combined. We will probably be looking for a ring to purchase this week. as my birthday approaches.

It was a tough thing to say aloud. I guess I felt like a bit of a failure, and that I had not been really true to my commitment. I know that a marriage is not about a piece of jewelry, but it is a recognized symbol, and to lose it does seem to indicate a lack of responsibility.

I’m sure it’s in the house somewhere. I’m going to make one last ditch effort to find it. I have my suspicions on where it is, but we will see if any of them come to fruition.

• My Mother-In-Law was sick.

My Father and Mother-In-Law lived with us for half the summer last year. I helped to take care of them until my Sister-In-Law came to NY to take them out west… permanently. They now live out there, and since she is retired, she cares for them continually. MIL had gotten better, got worse, and now is in a limbo kind of state. She is OK but we fear it may not last for long. We will see all of them (and I mean ALL) on a trip to Hawaii later in the summer.

• The job had been… challenging.  I had
  • Applied for new positionm gotten excessed, gotten recalled as a music teacher, was appointed as Coordinator of Fine and Performing Arts, and was granted tenure as a Music Teacher K-12.

Well, I did that job for a year. I had been promised I would be promoted to Director. The district was good to their word, and I started as Director on July 1st. The money is better, the job will be easier, and hopefully I will be able to effect some changes where needed. There is so much to tell you, but I don’t want to do it all at once. Simply put… I’m back.

My Mother-In-Law got sick. She ended up in the hospital, and then a rehabilitation facility. My Father-In-Law can’t stay by himself, so he moved in with us. Well, more with them, since I still live 5/7 of the time far from the family.

The job has been… challenging. Things in education are tough, if you are on the bottom of the Seniority List. Which I am. Was. As a result, my position went from a full-time position to a part-time position. I was excessed (released from full time employment, with rights to be recalled if a FT position opens up) and offered the new PT gig.

When my boss heard about this, he was concerned. You see, he is retired. He is in the second year of a planned three year stint as Director of Fine and Performing Arts. He looked at the situation and found it to be unacceptable. So he did what any of us would have done.

He resigned.

Sounds drastic, but he had a thought. He thought “I could resign and leave room for the new guy, who has all the right certification and experience to take over.” Apparently he also thought “I don’t need another $100k of money that I would have made.” Can you imagine? How many of us would have given up that kind of scratch for someone we hardly know?

This set up a strange sequence of events:

• Apply for new position
• get excessed from current position
• interview for new job
• get recalled as a music teacher
• get appointed as Coordinator of Fine and Performing Arts
• Oh, I was also approved for tenure as a Music Teacher K-12.

As you can see, this has been a bit of a whirlwind. I’ve jumped into the new job (which I don’t officially have yet) with both feet, so I have been out at Award Ceremonies, dinners, and concerts. All of this hubbub has kept me from you, dear readers. However, I hope to be back soon. Today is a chance to catch up. Keep your eyes open for new posts. I’ve missed you, and I’m looking forward to sharing with you again. Things are starting to get interesting.

That would prove to be particularly prescient. Recently, my mother-in-law took ill. She is currently in a facility receiving care she truly needs. She is, for the most part, healthy and will probably continue to be healthy for some time to come. She will require special care for a while, and even when she is ready to return home, she will likely be unable to care for herself without some assistance.

My father-in-law is as healthy as he has been for some time. At least, as far as his body goes. His heart is ailing. He has lived with the same woman for over 60 years, and now she’s out of the house. He could live alone, but the house is so… empty. He has never really cooked for himself. He is not so big on laundry. He comes from a generation where gender roles are very strictly defined. Sure, he can fix things that are broken, but that’s not enough.

Having a mate changes the way you live your life. You get used to it, after a while. When you live alone, who will steal the section of the paper you were reading? Who leaves the seat up/down on the toilet? Who will leave the dishes in the sink? The empty ice trays on the counter? The nearly empty gas tank? The box with 2 crackers left? Sure, sometimes we get aggravated by these little foibles and peculiarities, but after creating a rhythm or routine that incorporates them, their sudden removal leaves you tripping over yourself. At a time of stress, you feel those losses quite dearly.

When we were young and still searching for that ‘someone’ we filled those empty moments. We filled the emptiness with the search itself. Once you’ve found that someone, the search is over, and you can’t pick it up again. When we were young, we filled the emptiness with drink. Now we’re too old for that. When we were young, we filled the emptiness with friends. At a certain age, you have few (if any) friends left.

You have family.

And so, we find ourselves, for a time at least, as an extended family. New members. New challenges. New arrangements. New schedules. Life moves quickly. Gotta keep up.

Of course, the day before he leaves, something tragic happens in his family, and he ends up visiting with a grandparent, perhaps for the last time. This trauma affects him deeply, but he stands tall and tries to ignore the possibilities while trying to enjoy himself on the trip. The trip goes off as scheduled, and when he returns (after 3 days out of cellular range) he gets to see his grandparent, who has managed to not only survive, but to thrive.

Then he packs and plans for an international trip. We equipped him with an international calling card. We gave him an international cellular phone. He visited again with his ailing grandparent, who will likely still be here upon his return, but will almost certainly not be home any time soon. Again, he was upbeat, even though he knows that when he returns, we’ll have one more in the house. He agrees it would be wrong to leave one in a house alone while the other is in a rehab facility. And so, when he returns, we will no longer be nuclear, but extended.

Off he goes, landing uneventfully in Paris. Checking in at the hostel, he begins his international adventure with enthusiasm and joy. After a few days, he leaves the hostel to head home. Not home to us, but a temporary home with the student he hosted in November. For us as parents, a much more comforting time. What could be better than having him stay with a family? We had hosted their child, we imagined a quid pro quo would allow him to be protected and comfortable.

Who could predict that we’d have trouble figuring out how to text message from abroad? Who would have predicted we’d have to try a variety of ways to call from his cellular to mine? Who would expect a tragedy in their household? Who could predict that the family would be devastated in a way that would make it impossible for them to continue to host him? Who would know that he would be thrust into a circumstance which would be nearly impossible to manage in English, with a family you know well? How can he possibly be expected to manage it in French, with a family he barely knows, on their worst day ever?

I consider myself to be an outstanding planner, but some things you just can’t be expected to predict. Be safe and well, Skippy. Hugs are waiting for you at home.

Individuals with children face these questions: Should I be more or less involved in the lives of my children? Should I choose for them, or let them choose? Should I steer them away from all risks, or let them discover the world for what it really is and has become? Should I keep my ‘safe’ job, or take a risk that could put my family in financial jeopardy?

If you are in a marriage or relationship, you face different, but similarly important questions. Is this the person for me? Do I want to spend the rest of my life in this relationship? Is my partner happy? Am I doing all I can to make this relationship happy, successful, and sustainable? Will we be better off if I subjugate myself to him/her right now? Are we healthy together? Are we better apart?

As individuals, we must answer the more basic questions. Am I happy? Can I be a better person? Should I be more charitable? Is it time to sit down and take it, or stand up and fight? What are my goals, my visions, my dreams? Can I attain them? Is what is good for me in keeping with the greater good? Does that matter to me? Take a good look at these questions, because they are cumulative. We all answer the basic questions. Those of us married and with children must answer them all.

But I’ve left out the most basic, most essential question of all. It’s not “How shall I live?” buy “Shall I live?” if you believe that life requires an energy, a force of will, than this becomes a critical question. But why, WHY would someone answer no? Certainly we’ve seen those who, in a fit of loneliness, pain, or alienation have thought living was no longer valuable. What of the father, who for years has supported his family, who now cannot do so? Perhaps he’s discovered he’s worth more fiscally dead than alive. Maybe he simply cannot watch as his family struggles to stay alive. Maybe the guilt (justified or not) he feels in his failures weighs too heavily on his soul. These days, many individuals must be in this mindset. I’ve felt their pain. All I can say for them is that no family is better off in their absence. No amount of money would ever replace a loving parent, or assuage the pain and guilt stemming from their absence.

What of those who are older? If life requires an energy force, how long can any of us sustain it? Have you 50 years in you? 65? 80? 90? There are days where I wonder how I will find a forty fourth. If you reach 80 years, haveyou worked hard enough? Could you hang on to be with your mate. Hopefully your children are settled and no longer need your care. If you’ve taught them everything they need to know, can you give up without guilt?

As I sit with my mother-in-law, I consider the gifts I have, the gifts she’s given me, and the life force she’s carried for so long. Clearly I haven’t been paying attention during the lesson. I can’t answer the Essential Question.

Jason Mesnick is likely the weepiest bachelor ever. He sloshed through the final episode, tearing up at least a dozen times, raising the question: When is it OK for men to cry? Mesnick’s crying has endeared him to some viewers but painted him as a target of insult for others. “I thought it was sweet to see a guy cry for a change and any girl would be lucky to have him,” one “Good Morning America” viewer commented at ABCNews.com. “I like a sensitive guy as much as the next woman, but unless someone just died or you have just cut off one of your limbs, cut out the waterworks,” another wrote.

There are differing opinions about crying. When we grow up as kids, we are convinced that we should not cry. If you cry, you show weakness. People will take advantage of you. You’ll get picked on. No one will be your friend. Girls want tough guys, not babies. You’re a wimp. You’re a chick. You’re gay.

I would have thought, as adults, we’d be over that discussion. Turns out that we’re not past it yet. Many folks still think men crying is weak, wimpy, bad. I find it hard to believe that adults would still cling to these stereotypes, but then I find it hard to believe that people would be against gay marriage, gun control, and birth control.

I’m not the best person to judge on this topic, because I’m biased. Disclaimer: I cry. A lot. At stuff you might find weird. Here’s just a short list- I’ve cried:

• at movies like Last Chance Harvey, Chocolat, or Our Friend Martin;
• at TV shows like Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and The Closer
• when Mimi died in La Boheme;
• when my grandfather passed away;
• when a former student took his own life;
• when my children were born;
• when the children sang or played in concerts;
• when my classes sang well in concerts;
• when my children did something outstanding, like take care of their Dad when he gets a concussion;
• when my wife told me she was proud of me.

Sure, some of these things might seem frivolous and silly. Why should I cry over something inane like a television show? Sure, the death of a relative is a significant event, but someone getting a new house on TV has nothing to do with me. What’s the big deal? 

One thing is certain: crying is an indicator of who you are and how you relate to others. If you can put yourself in someone elses shoes, it is the beginning of an understanding and a relationship. If you can empathize with them, you have built a bridge. You can walk a mile in their shoes and understand who they are at their core. Being able to cry does not make you a wimp. Being able to cry makes you a special man. Being able to cry makes you a caring, loving person.

It would be easy for us “criers” to demean or deride the “non-criers” as tough guys. Meatheads. Macho slobs. Non-criers must be misogynist, chauvinist pigs who do not value women or care about their children. “Non-criers” are must be unemotional douches. I know that’s not true. Not being able to cry does not make you less empathetic. You can still be caring and loving without the tears. You’re not a douche if you don’t cry.

However, you ARE a douche if you dump your new fiance on television though. That much I know.

You can see, there is a lot to decide when you are setting up media in your home today. Sure, most people just get a television and a cable box. That’s for the noobs, the low-tech crowd. I would love to be a part of the high-tech crowd, but that means more bank* then I have. Since I don’t have that kind of scratch**, I’ll have to be content with mid-tech solutions.

Before starting the job and implementing any technology, I must first decide what I want my home network to do. I would like my network to:

- serve music and movies files from a central location, not from individual files on individual machines (I guess this is a media server);
- allow my family to save and access their files from a central location simply;
- allow all my devices to see the internet and the network, either wirelessly or via Ethernet;
- back-up user data on and off-site, simply and without user intervention;
- allow remote access and maintenance (via internet from Studio B) when necessary.

I know that none of these tasks is impossible, but making certain that the system is low cost is paramount. I don’t want to purchase any more hardware, since I already own:

- Toshiba Laptop (Vista)
- Mini PC (Home built with XP)
- Gateway Laptop (Windows ME)
- Mac Mini (Leopard)
- Macbook (Leopard)
- 1TB External Hard Drive (USB)

The problems I forsee:
- multiple platforms (Mac and PC)
- multiple operating systems (ME, XP, Vista, Leopard)
- multiple novice users (wife and kids not really big on complicated network protocols and structures)
- no installed Ethernet (and I’m kicking myself for THAT!)

This is not a post of solutions. It’s not even a post of ideas. More than anything it’s a brain dump, so I can figure out next steps. Of course, if you have low-cost solutions, links to expert advice, or just feel like joining in the fun, go ahead and comment.

** “Scratch” is one I learned from my old band director. It’s safer for me to use than “bank” but pretty much labels me an old dude.