Feel It [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

I worked in or consulted with many schools and businesses. I was always amazed at how much the organization mirrored the personality of the principal or CEO. An angry boss always made for an angry organization. A bright light at the top of the org chart shone in every corner and heart of the community.

And so it goes for nations. This week I had two important calls with dear friends that I have not seen for over a decade. Both commented on the lightness of spirit they feel since Kamala Harris became the Democratic nominee for President. Hope is in the air. A leader who laughs. A candidate who speaks of opportunity, equality and possibility…The energy of optimism is palpable, the uplift is trickling down. You can feel it.

read Kerri’s blogpost about TRICKLE DOWN

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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Near Hiatus [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Until today, I’ve never been compared to a good english muffin. For that matter, I’ve never been compared to a bad english muffin. In the end, whether a good english muffin or bad, I am a festival of nooks and crannies and plan on celebrating each new addition. When you’re falling, dive!

You may have noticed an appearance change in this addition of smack-dab. Unlike me, it’s not new nooks and crannies. We are having technical difficulties at Smack-Dab International. Namely, Kerri’s computer died mid-Smack and took this week’s cartoon with it. While I was readying a post of apology for our smack-dab-hiatus, she produced this strip in record time on her ancient iPad mini! Moral of the story: while I look more and more like breakfast food, she is rapidly becoming the queen of the work-around. She never ceases to amaze me.

read Kerri’s blog post about ENGLISH MUFFINS

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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Never Say Never [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Never say never.

I used to wonder how my elders could “just sit around and talk” – or not – and marvel at the appearance of the crabapple blossoms, revel at the appearance of some bird or another. “There must be something more interesting to do!” I’d say and silently huff, “I’ll never-ever just sit around and stare at stuff.”

Well.

We spent hours the other day watching the crow babies in their nest. The cardinals’ arrival always gets a rise out of use. The day the peonies bloomed was cause for celebration. Now I think, “The world would be a better place if people could just slow down long enough to notice all the miracles happening around them.”

Now I know. There is nothing more important or interesting to do than be fully present where I am.

I’m so glad that the younger version of me was so utterly wrong.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BIRD WATCHING

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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20 Cents A Toe [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Kerri rarely buys herself anything. Shoes have to fall off her feet before she will allow herself to buy another pair. And so it was with her flip-flops. Meant to be worn for a single season, her old pair had seen several seasons. They carried her for many, many miles. The heel was so thin it was nearly transparent when held up to the light. It’s worth noting that our summer footwear consists almost entirely of flip-flops. Recently, on every walk, on almost every step, she’d grit her teeth or squeak, “Ouch!” She felt every pebble, every uneven crack in the sidewalk. She was the Princess-and-the-Pea of footwear.

I was stunned when we went to the Old Navy outlet to take advantage of their $2 flip-flop sale and she walked out the door with three pair! “Who are you?” I asked, deeply concerned that she was experiencing a severe medical event. She explained that she couldn’t decide so in an uncanny, unusual and unfamiliar act of self-care, she splurged and bought all three.

“Six bucks!” she told 20 as she was modeling her footwear-coup. “Six bucks!”

“Wow,” he said, “That’s incredible. Catching my eye he added, “That’s 20 cents a toe! Good job!”

She beamed. Three pairs of flip-flops and deep inner satisfaction – all for six bucks! Worth every single penny spent on every single toe.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FLIP-FLOPS

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Be Woke [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Tonight we will go to Pride-Fest Milwaukee to see our son Craig perform. He’s an EDM artist. His star is rising. This night, he’s performing with his friend and collaborator. Together, they perform as The Doggpound. We couldn’t be more excited or more proud.

This morning I read an angry response to a post (not mine). As a conclusion to her tirade, the woman wrote, “Aren’t you ashamed to be woke?” I admit to being perplexed to the point of mystification. Why should I or anyone be ashamed to be alert, aware, and concerned about all forms of discrimination and social injustice in our nation and the world? My idea of a better world means “liberty and justice for all.” Equality. It is the vibrant promise of this nation. It is the ideal behind our struggles. It is, after all, our pledge. Indivisible with.

I would be ashamed if I wasn’t woke. I find nothing to be proud of in dedicated ignorance.

read Kerri’s blogpost about PRIDE

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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Prepare For The Freeze [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

In our home there is no task so daunting as the cleaning-out of her closet. We’ve had several near-attempts. Occasionally, small dents have been made to the outer layer. But, in the end, all forward progress shuts down. This mountain is too formidable to climb. With the closet door open she stands staring in; frozen.

I understand. It’s not simply clothes to be tossed. It’s memories. Associations. The archeology of a lifetime. For my story-thready wife, taking her old clothes to the Goodwill is like tossing her memories into an abyss.

I’ve suggested leaving it alone and building another closet to make badly needed new space for the present-and-future clothes. My suggestion always inspires THAT look. So, I’ve learned to keep silent. Hold my tongue. I’ve learned the art of the silent head-nod.

Now I know, on those dubious occasions she declares, “This is the day…” my job is to prepare for the emotional-lock-up, the mental freeze. The inevitable zombie-stare of defeat. I fluff extra pillows for her favorite chair. I position the hassock so I can rub her feet. I open a bottle of wine.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CLOSET

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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The Stream [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

A wedding brought us to the mountains and within reach of a trail sacred to us. It never fails. The hike meanders through aspen groves, opens onto meadows with vistas that take our breath away. And then we come to the stream. Our stream.

Stepping on rocks in the rushing water, fifty yards up stream there is an ancient log straddling the crystal clear glacier melt. It provides a perfect mid-stream seat and has become a place for quiet reflection and insight. Three times in our eleven years together we’ve stepped up the stream to the log, stepped out of time and into hushed conversations and whispered revelations. By the time we return to the trail the world is different, better. Or we are different and somehow better.

I’m not sure what to call the previous phase of our time together. I am excited to welcome The Sweet Phase.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SWEET PHASE

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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None. Nada. [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

It’s not that we are inept or anti-tech. We are not. We are mostly savvy and can generally figure things out. When we can’t, we have a 12 year-old cultural-informant on standby who can guide us through the maze of complexity.

One of the promises of technology is to make our lives easier. Often that is true. Often it is not. I have found that being inundated in a 24/7 firehose of information with multiple competing channels, services and choices and changes and updates, password-password-do-you-remember-the-password, resets, google searches for clues, revamps and rolling technological improvements…life is not easier. Too much is too much. Too fast is too fast. And, let’s face it, much of what is out there is noise. It’s impossible to fill the belly of a 24/7 hungry ghost with brain-or-heart-nutritional substance.

We don’t watch much tv. But, when we do, we don’t want to spend an hour scanning or searching or retrieving or updating the app. I confess to fondly recalling the days of three channels, an on-and-off switch and a remote with a single button. I also like the feel of turning pages in a book and have been eye-rolled a time or two for saying it.

Here’s the bottom line: I have limited time on this earth and don’t want to lose it looking for something to watch.

read Kerri’s blogpost about CHOICES

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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Work On It [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

In my pre-Kerri-era, I took a 20 minute power nap every afternoon. I’d hit the studio floor at about 3:15, snooze like a champ, and be ready to go for the rest of the day. All that changed when I moved east. All of my work patterns and life patterns changed.

Although she definitely does not see herself as a nap person, occasionally, after a loooong night awake, I have been able to coax her into a dedicated-nap-fest. And, as a rule, she is fast asleep before my head hits the pillow. It tickles me. I confess: I am plotting to expand her definition of herself to include more naps. I tell her it’s a sign of sophistication. I tell her naps are sign of arriving at adulthood. I’ll tell her anything as long as we eventually arrive at the return of the power nap. The only thing better is a good hot bath.

In time. I’m working on it.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NAPS

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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Prepare! [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

It’s true. When one of our children alerts us that they are coming for a visit, life as we know it instantly enters a high-energy-whirling-dervish phase. Kerri begins spinning so fast that she blurs. Dogga and I seek cover.

Eventually, a list of assigned duties comes flying from the tornado. A small piece of paper lands at my feet. I try to make sense of the instructions that whip out of the whirl but sound travels slower than my bride and, in her spinning, I can only catch every third word. With my list in hand and a puzzle of instruction, I begin my tasks, careful to stay out of the path of the funnel-cloud-of-excitement whizzing about the house.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE VISIT

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buymeacoffee is easily less dangerous than kerri cleaning house.