The Witty Smitty

I write for fun. I used to write for pay, but that was a long, long time ago. I try to look at things from a number of different angles, but I only write from the perspective that I think makes the most sense. When I started this blog, I wanted to write a couple of times a week, but with the constant pull of real life, I wasn't able to keep that up for very long.

As for my real job, I try to help people market their companies as successfully as possible, using the one thing that never lies - numbers. I always loved math because, quite simply, 2 and 2 always makes 4, no matter how you look at it. The company I'm with now - Lift361 - uses statistical data analytics and behavior models to predict behavior. It's scarily accurate (like a said, numbers never lie).

I hope you enjoy the writing. There are archives available if you are really, REALLY bored sometime.

Cheers!

THE VULNERABILITY OF HEROES

Do you remember the first time you realized your hero was vulnerable? Maybe it was the effect Kryptonite had on Superman. Or when your favorite baseball player could no longer hit that slider on the outside corner. Or maybe it was when that quarterback you idolized was unable to sidestep a rushing linebacker, throw that laser beam pass with surgical precision, splitting the defense for the game winning touchdown, but rather getting picked off and losing. For me, it was this week. The culprit was cancer, and the vulnerable hero was my mom.

She has had that disease for more than a year, but until this week, I hoped against hope that she would beat it. After all, this is the toughest woman - no, the toughest person - that I ever knew. There is no way it can take her, is there?

Well, technically, it hasn't yet. She is still here, but hospice was called in today. Her latest report showed that the cancer has spread, that the chemo which has ravaged her poor body has failed. Things are starting to progress far too rapidly.

I wasn't exaggerating when I called my mom my hero. I'm certain that she was the reason that Batman became my favorite superhero. Neither had superpowers (although mom may have been telepathic - she always seemed to know everything I did!). Rather, they used their brains and wits to defeat evil. Oh, and that wonderful utility belt that Batman had, from which he could pull almost anything to get himself out of a jam. My mom's utility belt was her purse. I saw her pull more things out of that monstrosity than you can ever imagine. God, I loved that purse.

"Mom, got a band-aid?"

"Here you go."

"Mom, got a needle and thread?"

"Yep!"

"Mom, do you have a screwdriver?"

"Here you go. Remember, lefty-loosey, righty-tighty."

You get the idea.

For most boys, their dad plays a bigger role in their development. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad with all my heart, but when I was little, he worked two jobs and was gone a lot. When it came time for someone to show me how to throw a baseball and swing a bat, it was mom. When I had to learn how to fight, it was mom (which actually worked in my favor, because dad was always very tender hearted, and while mom was only 4 feet 11, she was a pit bull). And when it came to learning about girls, it was mom (OK, maybe part of THAT learning process came from the magazines my two older brothers had hidden under their bed, but at least the part about how to TREAT girls came from my mom).

She didn't just teach me about being a man. I've been told numerous times that I'm very much in touch with my feminine side. I think that was always meant as a compliment. Or that I'm very sensitive to women's feelings. That, too, comes from my mom. We didn't always throw the ball or throw punches. She taught me how to cook. She taught me how to sew. She taught me how to iron. And without trying, she taught me how to be a parent.

No, she wasn't a saint. Nor was she a perfect parent. But she was perfect for me. I've always been one who performed better when patted on the butt rather than being kicked in it, but when I needed to be kicked, she knew just how to do it. Inevitably, she would always find a way to pick me back up.

She also gave me the best piece of advice that I ever had, and I'm ashamed to say, I haven't always followed:
"I don't care if you only become the dog-catcher, just be the best dang dog-catcher you can be," she would say. I wish I had always followed that advice. I would be a lot better off than I am.

Now that I think about it, she isn't really losing her battle with cancer. You only lose when you let that disease take your heart, and your mind, and your spirit. It never did that with her. So, she won't defeat this horrible disease. My hero will show her vulnerability. But in the end, in my heart and mind, she will win, and she will win big. That's how it works with heroes - they're always your hero, no matter what.