How Not to Cry During a Eulogy

The godfather of the insurance industry passed this week, off to the AAA office in the sky, selling hell protection to anyone and everyone with a free John Reeves pen to all! My Dad will be missed, that is for sure.

As his son, I had been preparing for this moment about a decade ago when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's/Dementia. It's up to me to tell his friends and family his story; the eulogy. Anytime I thought of some story from whenever, out came my phone and would make a few notes about it to jog my memory when it came time to compile the master story compilation. It's easy to compile stories and public speaking was not going to be a problem as I've done many presentations over the years. Emotions, however, cannot be understated. You can try your best but if you're crying, those stories are not coming out. 

You can't let the dude down who did so much for you so cry I would not. In preparation, I went to a place where everything is the truth (insert sarcasm), the information superhighway. I entered "how not to cry during a eulogy" and got some good pointers and added a few of my own:

- Breath, breath, breath. Key. Once that hyperventilating starts, its all downhill.

- Practice, practice, practice. I talk to myself at home anyway so I got to hear the speech a few times.
- Liquid nearby. Check. Dry mouth and speech do not mix.
- Write the eulogy/summary but don't read it verbatim. Tell a story. You don't have to hide behind the podium either. Give the story some action.
- Get a good cry in when you're writing the eulogy. Check.
- Check your crowd beforehand and identify the known crier. Do NOT look towards said person when you're talking.  
- Get in the sports/competitive mindset and make it a game you really want to win and will not be denied. A mission to get the stories told.
- Your Dad is counting on you. Enough said.

I've also had the good fortune to be friends of two of the greatest story tellers of their time, Jim M. and Gus. Jim likes working the larger crowds (he's available for wedding toasts) while Gus can work a story for a group of 10 or fewer like none other. I channeled both of their abilities on Tuesday. 

I am happy to report that the stories got told and the pride of Detroit Cathedral Central got the proper send off. 

Enjoy your unlimited mulligans Dad. 

Trail Head

Two Pictures, Two Fish Stories

Every picture tells a story they say and these two pretty much say it all. 

To the left we have my quota for today's NoMo charity kayak fishing tournament. After jumping from Long Lake over to Pontiac Lake earlier in the morning (any public lake is eligible), I got the noted 16 incher around 9 AM on a green pumpkin tube setup. Thoughts of prize money rolled through my head. A thank you text went out to Al and Doke who gave me some pointers on using said tube lure. The NoMo would be mine with my new "secret" lure (that everyone has probably known about and been using since I've existed on this planet). But it was mine today! Or so I thought as the 9 AM action was it for legal fish in the session as the north winds kicked it up a notch.

This leads us to the picture on the right. While I was slapping myself on the back on Pontiac Lake, sending my thank you text out and thinking about my victory speech, Al and Doke were doing the motorized fishing experience on Lake St. Clair; probably going for the net again as my text came through as both limited out on walleye. And we're not talking about the wimpy, one boat with 18 poles trolling along, snagging anything in their way, fishing experience (blah). These two cast their keep. Real fishing. 

Trail Head

Hunting Via Bicycle

No, I don't hunt as the last time I can recall shooting a gun was 6th grade camp at Proud Lake Recreation Area; 1978 I believe. There weren't any ribbons presented that week for my shooting prowess as it was not my calling (there weren't ribbons period as we weren't wimpy millennials - ha) .

If it was my calling, however, there would be no starving individuals in my house as I seem to be the pied piper on the bicycle in attracting what could be a delicious turkey dinner with some venison sausage as an appetizer. Word probably leaked on the deer/turkey community's social media site of my lack of marksmanship so there is no fear when I come through I guess.  

Trail Head 

Dragging Ass

Sometimes the mountain bike gods choose to shine on others as they certainly weren't shining on me yesterday at the Mud, Sweat & Beers race in Traverse City. I can pull out the book of excuses as it has many to choose from but will just chalk it up as a day to enjoy the many forms of riders passing me; the hardcore, the Cinemax soft core, the fat tires, the single speeds, the elders, the teens. They all dropped by.

Within the attached short clip you get to see/hear (need sound on): the start, a snow visual (yes, still some bits of snow up north) followed by a need for more cowbell, throwing an F-bomb call out to an upcoming hill, several pro racers passing me (on your left, on your right, sit tight spandex dude), severe camera wind going down a hill and a finish line plunge into Max's Mud Pit. 

Great day, even with a dragging ass.

Trail Head

mud pit prior to finish line

the herd preparing

still some snow in Michigan