Rite of Passage: The last warrior
The day after our team finished carrying the cross up Mount Kilimanjaro, we had a day of rest and then toured the Tarangire National Park, where we rode among the elephants, zebras and lions. On our way out of Tanzania and into Kenya. we stopped alongside the road where some Maasai warriors were selling trinkets and souvenirs. The warriors told us that in the old days, for a boy to become a man, he had to go out alone and kill a lion...
Rite of Passage: Babymoon, Baby Bumps and Spock
If you have read this column for more than a week, you know I am expecting my third grandson at the end of March. Last week, my son and daughter-in-love asked my wife and me if we would take care of Titus the Honorable and Cohen the Goodhearted while they go on a babymoon. A baby what? At my age, I thought there would be no more surprises left in life. I have seen it all, done about everything and got the T-shirt to prove it. But...
Rite of passage: You’ve got a friend
I have only been to three secular concerts in my life. In the late ’60s, I attended the first. Two bands played back to back: The Mamas & the Papas and Gary Puckett & the Union Gap. If you grew up in that era, you will never forget these groups. As a hormonally-imbalanced, pimply-faced, lonely, 98-pound beanpole, I found solace in their music. When the Mamas & the Papas sang “California Dreamin’,” “Monday Monday” or...
Rite of passage: Overcoming the whipped cream monitor
I never had to have a whipped cream monitor before. But since my grandsons have come into my life, I have been assigned one: my wife. A whipped cream monitor has only two lines, “Whoaaa, that’s way too much” and “You can catch germs.” My grandsons like hot chocolate; well, they don’t like it too much, but I do. To get them to sit down and drink it with me, I put a little bit of hot chocolate into their cups, and then I take a can of...
Rite of Passage: Money matters
I was very fortunate to have a grandfather who believed in teaching me about money. As far back as I can remember, he was talking about tithing, investments and savings. Granddad was a hog farmer, and one day, he came to me and asked if I wanted to go into business with him. I was 5 years old, and one of his sows had just had a litter of pigs. I could choose any one out of the litter as my own. I would have to raise it and take care...
