Monday, January 28, 2013

Silver Tuxedo at the White House

Nancy and Jeff Keith
White House State Dinner 1980 (something)
 

This is my mom and dad at a White House State Dinner and yes that is a silver tuxedo. I think it was during Regan’s first term. I don’t remember much about this night, but I do remember that tux. I think I remember them being picked up at our house in Potomac by a chauffeured limousine. That would have been no big deal because whenever we would fly somewhere as a family we would always be chauffeured in a stretch-limo to the Presidential Suite in whatever hotel we were staying in, isn’t that how everybody traveled? Being an Executive Director of a major association did have its perks. Every year there would be several big trips. The family vacation and then there would always be the convention where he was in charge and then there would be the ASAE (American Society of Association Executives) convention where he was a member. At one point he was the President and the Chairman of the Board for ASAE as well. He was the Executive Director for AMSA, NTDRA, NPSA and lastly ADTSEA while I was growing up.

He once confided in me his biggest regret. I was in my mid-twenties and was helping him with rehab and physical therapy after his second major stroke. As he was starting to come out of a major funk he started confiding in me a lot. We were doing our stretches in the hot tub at Sneakers and he said, “I always regretted leaving Cleveland. Leaving the Stamping Association was the dumbest thing I ever did. It was my big shot to bring your mother home to Maryland, but within a year of moving here we put your sister in the ground and I knew I had made a mistake.” I told him I thought moving here from Cleveland was the best thing that ever happen to me. And I meant it.

That was the summer of 1993 and I had moved in with my parents in Ocean Pines for two reasons. I was a broken hearted failure of a salesman with nowhere else to go and my mother asked me too. She was sobbing on the phone and she said she was sorry but had to ask. She said, “Since this last stroke your father has given up. He is just waiting to die and you are the only person on this earth who can raise his spirits.” So I went. And it was the best summer I had ever spent in Ocean City and that’s saying something.

It’s hard to write about those times. It has taken me over a hundred posts in dumbdumbdaddyo to finally get here, but what my father-in-law always says, “No matter where you go there you are!”  I guess this project never was about celebrating what a great man my father was when he was young but how hard it was to see him get so old. When you are one of the toughest men on earth it takes a lot to finally put you in the ground.

 


Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Thirty Seconds of Incredible Bravery

My Dad once told me with thirty seconds of incredible bravery you can accomplish almost anything. It only takes thirty seconds of incredible bravery to acknowledge the fear and then push forward. Being brave is usually about taking that first step or speaking that first word. Everything is a lot easier once you get rolling. With thirty seconds of incredible bravery you can become unstoppable.

He knew thirty seconds was the average span of attention. He also knew his youngest son was way bellow average, in fact, comically low in this regard. He changed his philosophy on being incredibly brave to something more my speed. He said once, "Bitty Buddy, I know you, and you my son only have to be incredibly brave for three seconds and you can change the world. It takes only a couple seconds to punch a bully in the jaw. It only takes only a few seconds to decide what's right and then doing it is easy."

He always said, "The more you do something the easier it gets." Facing your fear is the same way. The more you do it the easier it gets. Being brave is not being fearless. "Being brave is being scared shit-less and still moving forward. Being afraid is natural.  Being brave takes practice. Being brave is taking that first step, taking that first swing, taking that first leap, speaking that first word knowing that you will most likely fail, but trying anyway. Being incredibly brave is trying again and succeeding."

He also always said, "Fear is a waste of time!" He had had a lot of practice.


My Dad
Jefferson Donald Keith, 1945
A Marine in the South Pacific.


Maryland Terrapins, Jan. 1952

My Dad after beating #1 Ranked Tennesse, winning the Sugar Bowl, and completing a perfect undeafeted season. Under coach Tatum's left hand. It was his last game. He knew a little something about being brave and about moving forward.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Best Christmas Card Ever!

Jeff Keith and Ben Pratt, 1983

Ben and my dad at our Senior high school banquet for football. In his Christmas card Ben enclosed a note that his father had died recently and while going through his stuff he found these pictures and thought I might want them.

Andy Keith, Matt Leahfeldt, and Burke Slater, 1983
 
Notice my DDD giving me horns! He was a kidder, teaser, tickler and loved to make us laugh. I almost didn't notice the horns but seeing them hit me pretty hard. I think I missed a lot of things back then especially a lot of really good things about my dad. It was definitely his horns because that's the way he did it, with both hands and not with the more popular one handed peace sign version. What I would give to go back to the last few years of him being playful and silly and happy. This was my senior year so this marks the demise of the man I started blogging to remember. He had already lost his last, "big" job and was about a year away from his first heart attack.

I  just recently lost my job. Laid off just before Christmas and I have really struggled emotionally. Finishing this post is the first blogging I've done since I got the news a month ago. A friend of mine who was also laid off at the same time called me the other day to ask if I've been writing. He confided that he is a professional writer and has had writers block since the day we were "displaced". His theory is that as stress increases creativity decreases. I agree with his theory. This leaves me two alternatives; one, stop blogging or two, learn to cope better with the stresses of unemployment and learn to enjoy life again stress or no stress!

I was in the cardio-cinema at Gold's Gym humping out a few miles on the treadmill today when I had a revelation. I have become my father, and not in a good way. The one who's pain and suffering and frustration and anger I lived with as I was becoming a man. The one who had his identity all wrapped up in his career and while I was in high school lost it all. When you have had so much it's hard to loose it all. I witnessed him loose his career, his wealth, his homes, and his health.

Several times since I started this blog these cardio-cinema revelations have hit me like a ton a bricks. Fortunately it's dark because no one likes to see a big bald guy like me crying like a baby. What came to me was a memory I've buried deep down inside and I wish I had just forgotten all together. It's when I told my dad I had been offered a football scholarship to Miami University and I was hoping it would make his day. Instead through tears he sobbed an apology. He said he was sorry. He didn't want it to be this way. He said he didn't want me to feel like I had to take a scholarship to be able to afford to go to college. He said he always thought when I got my scholarship (he said he always knew I would get one) that he was going to tell me not to take it. But if I didn't listen and accepted it anyways (which he knew I would) he was going buy me any damn car I wanted (I was driving my sisters old beat up Pacer at the time). And then he said he was sorry he was crying and he was very proud of his Bitty Buddy.

The Keith Kids 1968 - ish

This is by far my favorite picture taken by DDD! One of my earliest memories is from this day. Their was this narrow rock ledge over a ravine that you had to put your back against the cliff face and shuffle your feet to climb up to the trail. At the time it seemed very scary, high up and dangerous I would love to see it now and see what my Dad thought a good outdoor adventure for his kids. Knowing Dumb Dumb Daddy-O it probably was very scary, high up and dangerous!

Karen, Carol, Jay and Andy, 1969