Husband, Father, Grandfather, and Friend. Sounds like a gravestone, but it's really a testimony to life. Maybe that's what life is all about; no mention of bank accounts, business acumen, street smarts, or computer literacy, or any of the many adjuncts that we usually attribute to people; just husband, father, grandfather, and friend. Someone once asked, what if one has no spouse and no children, and maybe one or two close friends? What then is his (or her) legacy? The answer was, "his good deeds" ... those are his real children he leaves in this world.

The idea of writing a section on "All About Me" is absolutely presumptuous. Not one, not ten, not a hundred pages could ever explain the intricacies of any person. Just the idea of saying to another person, "I know all about you." is, in my mind, an insult of the greatest degree. It was Soren Kierkegaard who said, "Once you label me you negate me." And then the very idea of a "bio" … what is said and what is omitted. If I have left anything out (which I know I have; some intentional) then I quote Jules Renard, a 19th century writer, who says, "words are the small change of thought".

Any person will always be more than any words can describe. You might know what a person does, who he knows, who he befriends, even some of his hopes and dreams, but a person is more than that. Each of us is a universe in miniature, replete with our own depths and eddies, our hidden doubts and fears and talents. None can ever fully know themselves, let alone claim to truly know another person. Any person is really a mystery.

An important part of my life, something that's guided me through the ups and downs, is the ability to appreciate whatever I have, and whatever skills and fortuitous circumstances that enabled me to increase whatever I have. Here I don't mean material increases necessarily, though that's good (to a certain extent), but increases in skills, talents, and opportunities. Improvement in health is an increase as anyone who suffered a short stay in the hospital might attest to, and then be able to walk out of that hospital ... how can one not appreciate that; not everyone walks out of a hospital.

There's a new definition of happiness; the ability to walk out of a hospital after a short (or long) visit. Eureka, more opportunity for happiness. Happiness is many things to many people, but one thing I've observed during a life is that it is not the accumulation of material things; they often become unnecessary baggage on the shoulders. To paraphrase Buddha (whoever he was, Siddhartha Bautama?), "keep earthly belongings to a minimum." Stuff (material possessions, goodies, thingamaigs) is spiritual dead weight. Maybe he was right on target there.

Happiness is a function of appreciation; some people have what appears to be everything and depression reigns. And here you'll find a husband and wife living in a log cabin, with only some basic possessions, and happiness reigns supreme. The difference is the ability to appreciate what is basic and simple, to know what is really important. Cup half full, cup half empty; it's all how you see it. There's a saying: "You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses."

Today the average man is not only the wealthy; he is living better than he ever did. Think about things we take for granted: running water and plumbing, electricity, telephones, central heating and air-conditioning. A hundred years ago, in most places in the world, these conditions did not exist or were the province of aristocrats alone. The average person today lives better than the most royal king or queen of yesterday. These are all things to be appreciated, opportunities for happiness to teach our children.

Having air to breathe, having water to drink, having food to eat; the blessings can go on and on including so much that we usually take for granted. Just being able to digest food, being able to excrete wastes, being able to see, to walk, to taste, to talk, and the litany of many blessings continue (even the event of waking up in the morning; no place do we have written guarantees that we'll wake up in the morning; we take it for granted). I know I could write a page on just those basic blessings alone. And then as we know, there's the ability to appreciate a few special people that come into a person's life, more opportunities. The above I truly believe.

There is a whole new perspective to be learned from Victor Frankel (Man's Search for Meaning, 1946): "Everything can be taken away from man but one thing, [the ability] to choose one's attitude in a given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way." Whatever your situation is, the sane are those who accept this charge and do not expect happiness by right. I can never remember myself in any situation of suffering even resembling what Frankel had seen, but we can all learn a lot from his "logotherapy," which views suffering not as an obstacle to happiness but often the necessary means to it, less a pathology than a path. His work is well worth reading.

Logotherapy amounts in nearly all situations to the advice "Get to work." Other psychologies begin by asking, "What do I want from life? Why am I unhappy?" Logotherapy asks, "What does life at this moment demand of me?" Happiness, runs a favored Frankel formulation, "ensues" (follows) from work. "Happiness must happen." Life should find us out there in the world doing good things for their own sake. Even "if we strive for a good conscience, we are no longer justified in having it. The very fact has made us into Pharisees. And if we make health our main concern we have fallen ill. We have become hypochondriacs." This makes me worse than the worst in that I certainly understand Victor Frankel's philosophy, but live my life quite differently.

I should take my own advice: "Don't do what 95 percent of people do, and just dream about taking that first step. Whether it's about learning about your computer, playing the guitar, going to adult learning class, or starting to earn a part time living. Leaving it 'till next week just doesn't cut. You're just kidding yourself. You're literally living in a 'Dream World'. Next week drifts into next month. Next month slides imperceptibly into next year. Can you remember what your dream was a year ago? So what have you done about it?"

They say that behind every smart man, there is an even smarter woman, and my wife, Joan, is a living example of that statement. Okay, even if I'm not so smart, Joan has that special intelligence that makes up for my lack. I consider myself lucky that Joan, is both my wife and mother to my children; we have all benefited from her presence. While we don’t always agree on everything, I can say that my entire existence (and the lives of those around me) has been enhanced by her presence. For Joan, “enough” is never enough; she always goes the extra mile to make sure that everyone is comfortable in any given situation. She has an innate ability to read the room and light it up at the same time.

Joan is the most decent person I ever met, and though we complement each other in personalities, skills, strengths, and weakness', some might say she deserves much better than this most introverted guy who built this website. Introverted but not really uncomfortable with people; I'd say introverted by choice. I suppose that like that "chairman of the board," I too, want it my way. Brings up a religious question, "who's way are we supposed to live?" (that's a heavy; we'll pass on that one now).

She has always been a loving, supporting, patient wife, for which I have to be thankful everyday that she doesn't leave me because I spend too many of my waking hours staring at this computer screen. Joan, I promise I'll spend quality time with you, just after I fix this last bug. In keeping with my personality (which I know you understand), I'm spending too much time trying to make things on the computer look nice, neat, tidy, and organized. We'll get to the closets when I’m done. I also have to download this file, send off this email, work on this webpage, do a scandisk and defrag the hard drive (you'll see, you'll see). Oh yeah, I also have to clean out some "cookies" and some spyware from some of the sites I accessed (accessing sites when I should be spending that time with you).

More about Joan ... you know, for a person to really talk about spouse (and parents, or children) is very difficult. The reason for that is obvious; you are very close and therefore you know too much. You know the strengths, you know the weaknesses, you know the virtues, and you know the faults. I'll say one thing about Joan which is very important in our marriage, and that is that Joan has always made the real important decisions in family life, among which were, the houses we bought, and the schools the children attended. She was there for the small decisions too.

There are many more decisions to be made in family life. Some are small (should we go out to eat here or there, when visiting should we bring this or that, when food shopping, should we buy lettuce or tomatoes (or maybe both); Joan always knows what to do. I sometimes get lost in thinking (or maybe I just can't make a decision), but Joan comes to the rescue. Sometimes I don't even know what to put on my plate to eat; that's a more serious problem (an aside: you have to teach children to make decisions, and children have to listen to and see parents make decisions; it's important). Leaders in business are people who make decisions.

Anyway, Joan is always there for me. And if at times a decision might be a wrong one (it's expected; people who make decisions can sometimes be wrong), stupid me always starts yelling, "Why'd ya do that, Joan; tell me, I want to know." And that would lead to a ruckus you can't imagine ... Joan, I'm yelling out to you now: I'm sooorrrrryyyyy ... don't know if it'll do any good apologizing, but I'm letting you know. Again, if it happens again, and this is crazy, I'd probably be the same way; some things just don't change.

Have to admit one thing and for this, among many other reasons, Joan is the best choice I could have made. She has always given me room and space to be my own person. Maybe that's what all men really want, which is, to be really, really close to someone who will leave them alone; I think that's me. I know Joan like I can almost complete her sentences, but she's also full of surprises. Like I said earlier, one can never know a person completely. There's this following story (or joke):

A man walking along a California beach was deep in prayer. All of a sudden, he said out loud, L-rd, grant me one wish." Suddenly the sky clouded above his head and in a booming voice the L-rd said, "Because you have TRIED to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant you one wish." The man said, "Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can drive over anytime I want." The L-rd said, "Your request is very materialistic. Think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking. The supports required reaching the bottom of the Pacific. The concrete and steel it would take. I can do it, but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Take a little more time and think of another wish, a wish you think would honor and glorify me." The man thought about it for a long time. Finally he said, "L-rd, I wish that I could understand women. I want to know how they feel inside, what they are thinking when they give me the silent treatment, why they cry, what they mean when they say 'nothing', and how I can make a woman truly happy." The L-rd replied, "You want two lanes or four lanes on that bridge?"

Earlier I mentioned that I like to do things my way, thinking my way is the best way (at least for me). A rabbi will disagree with that, saying that my way is with finite wisdom, and there is a better way stemming from infinite wisdom. What's strange is that I completely agree with this rabbi, and continue to do it my way. What's that about teaching old dogs new tricks? However, I have made some changes which include saying a few prayers each morning, and yes, putting tefillin on almost (almost? even there, my convenience controls my actions), almost each day except Saturdays, of course.

I originally had some music on the section, but the coding gave me some trouble.
It was – ONLY TIME – sung by Enya; her real name: Eithne Ni Bhraonain
I think it's an Irish name which translates to "Eithne (daughter of) Brennan".
The Ni in this name probably means "daughter of" and has the same meaning as:
"mac" in Scottish, "bin" in Arabic, and "ben" in Hebrew (meaning "son of").
So now I'll just supply the words: