Pep Talk: "Any or All"

I grabbed one can, then another, before pronouncing to the woman observing, “This is my dynamic duo.” She chuckled, “Everybody’s got their thing.”

This conversation was going down in aisle four, the vitamin section of the local Whole Foods. I was replenishing supplies of Flaxseed and Brown Rice Protein. The supplements are two of seven ingredients to my usual morning meal. Here they are: Ice, carrots, blackberries, flaxseed, almonds, brown rice protein and a banana. Gently blended, still chunky and devoured usually as breakfast, but sometimes as lunch or dinner. I try like heck to snarf it down daily. A routine, for sure.

Anyway, the female employee was amused. Apparently, I’m not the only knucklehead who wanders into her airspace blabbering about their magical concoctions. “Yours seems to make decent sense.” Thanks. I’ve been called a lot of things in life, but smart is rarely one of them. I’m gonna take “makes decent sense” as a compliment.

As I wandered into the parking lot looking for my car, the ol’ cranium floated to the following: Routines. We all have them, don’t we? I like to joke that if anybody wanted to wipe me out, it would not be a difficult task. I’m a creature of habit, especially in the morning hours. Routines.

I was two rows off in my vehicle search, but finally located it. While settling into the driver’s seat to exit the parking lot, routine was embedded in brain.

I thought of my mom. I wrote about her extensively in last week’s Pep Talk. We have a routine of speaking on Friday mornings while I’m driving to my weekly Platoon meeting. Talk about a bunch of knuckleheads, holy cow. A bunch of jacked up dudes. I cherish the time we spend together and the guys always asking, “What’s up with Patsy Sue?”

On the way home I call her back, inform her of the Bible verse(s) we studied. She then reads them back to me. Almost an octogenarian, but still a damn good reader of prose.

Then I thought of my dad, Marvin Walter McIntosh. This year has been interesting, with Mother’s Day on May 11th. That’s also my younger brothers’ birthday. But May 12th is the day my old man passed away back in 2007.

There are three days, back to back, in May that hold great significance in this simple dude from Missouri’s life: May 10th, birthday to both my darling fiancee and my second former wife; May 11th, the before-mentioned brother’s birthday, and then May 12th, the day dad drew his last breath.

Ratta tat tat.

Routines. Before his death, for many years, father and son usually talked every Sunday night. Known as “Hacker Mac” for his golf prowess, dad was such an upbeat guy. The successful businessman grew up desperately poor and dealt with family tragedy, including a father who abandoned six kids and a mother who died at an early age. Dad was the oldest boy and had to grow up fast. It was not easy for him or my aunts and uncles. Only one remains of that great group of folks: Aunts Jackie and Mary Ann, uncles John, Russell and father Marvin have passed. Uncle Al, the baby of the group, is still going strong.

Routine. I miss those phone calls with dad and cherish the one’s with mom.

The short drive home was almost complete. My thoughts about my old man were not.

At a time in life when there seem to be more questions than answers, as I backed the car into the garage, this question bored deep into my soul: “What did Marv Dog teach me the most?”

My mind started clicking through the photographs of life: Dad as a youth baseball, basketball and football coach; Dad as a tough disciplinarian; Dad as a supportive father as I dealt with life-changing stuff; Dad as a joy to be around, especially when playing golf.

I opened the back door and turned off the alarm system. It was at that moment the light bulb within my ‘noggin lit up: Show up on time, work hard, life ain’t fair sometimes but keep a good attitude about things. Dad taught me all that. He taught others that, too. Also, don’t be afraid to laugh and have some fun. My old man had a cackle. Miss that, too.

I never dreamed a trip to the grocery store would trigger such a wonderful trip down memory lane to what’s really important in life when it comes to routines, people and priorities.

Show up on time. Work hard. Don’t let life’s disappoints defeat us. Demonstrate a good attitude. Oh, and what the heck, give the seven-ingredient shake a chance as a daily meal. Give it a shot. Who knows, it might work. Any or all of them.

Have a good week!