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

Thursday, December 20, 2012

My Dad's Purple Star Saphire Ring



My Dad always said these things that at the time made no sense and at times felt obnoxious, mean or sarcastic when correcting me so most of the time I didn't listen. He must of known that recordings of him were being made in the back of my mind and thirty years later he would make perfect sense.

One thing he would always say, "It's OK to get angry! If you get mad you still have a chance to win, but if you start feeling sorry for yourself you've already lost!"

I think he said something like this when he saw me help a guy up who had cheap-shotted me in football. "I think you play a little better when your mad. Playing defense is not about being nice."

 He said something like it when I got a post surgical staph infection in my knee the spring of my Senior year. During the thirty days I was in the hospital I had to come to terms with loosing my dreams of being a professional baseball player (I actually had had a pretty good shot at it) and come to terms with loosing my football scholarship and on day seven, in traction, with tubes running in and out of everywhere come to terms with the very real possibility of loosing my leg. I remember saying something really nasty to him when he'd asked me if I had given up and he said, "Good, get mad at me and get really mad at this thing, I'd rather see you angry than feeling sorry for yourself!" He then brought me some shrimp fried rice.

So I got some bad news at work today. I have been, "displaced" as of January first. Merry Christmas.

I was walking my dogs in the snow and I looked down at my freezing hands and my Dad's ring must have hit the sun just right and the star in the middle winked at  me. I was looking down and strating to feel pretty darn sorry for myself and there he was telling me it was alright to be angry but not to feel sorry myself. "You can still win this one Bitty Buddy. You always play a little better when you're mad."

I have to take my DDD's advice with a grain of salt. What may have worked when I was an 18 year old playing football doesn't always bode well for a 46 year old 6' 3" 229 pound  bald guy who out-weighs his wife and three daughters combined. I've found that if I temper my anger with gratitude I can still win a few battles and not scare everyone off.

I am grateful Pfizer paid for my Masters Degree before kicking me to the curb. OK sarcasm is hard to grow out of but I am grateful and would do it all again in a heartbeat if I could.

Thank you Pfizer. You'll be see me again.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Mary's took seven staples in the head.

Yesterday we took Mary to the ER in Fruita with a head wound. She had been riding on the back this toy car thing with her friend in the kitchen and popped a wheelie. Mary fell back and hit her head on the cabinet corner. I had just got home early and was to have a phone interview in a liitle over an hour. It was hard to see the wound because her hair matted with blood instantly but at one point I saw blood gush out and splater on the floor. I put a towel and pressure on it for a few minutes and the bleeding did stop but I've seen bleeding like that before and know it means stiches. I told Suzy we have to go to the ER so we went and this what we saw when the hair was washed away. Of course Suzy never looked at it.

Suzy was a rock of comfort and had been stiched up recently in the very same room. That would be maybe 15 or so posts ago if you want to see it. It's pretty grusome. Hedge clippers and all!


Seven staple later and Mary didn't even cry. When I told her how tough she was and that she didn't even cry she said, "Yeh I did!" The she proceeded to try and make herslf cry and instead cracked herslef up and giggled.

This is the type of thing hat happen to me a lot while I was growing up. My Dumb Dumb Daddy O would always joke that I had my own private stall in the Cleveland ER with a plaque and everything because I was there on such a regular basis. It got so bad that once when I got hit by a car and my brake handle punched through my knee I had to chase my brother all the way home so he wouldn't tell Dad. I watched through the window as he told him and my Dad checked his watch and then went back to reading the paper. When I finally came in he wrapped my leg in a towel so I wouldn't bleed on the car seats. and we went to my private stall.

I was about to have my interview out in the car in the parking lot of the hospital but the interviewer left me a message to delay the interview for a half hour so I was able to get to my desk at home with a minute to spare. The interview went well but we'll see. What was great was being there for Mary and Suzy and having everthing work out in the end!

Co State Champion All-Around Gymnastics!


Kayla was placed in second place on the the call out to the stand. It was awesome.


Turns out Kayla was tied for 1st !!!!!

She is the All-Around State Co Champion

She may have been denied public recognition and their mistake robbed some of the glory but that fact that Kayla won a State Championship can never be taken away! Her father could not be more proud especially since none of this seems to bother her at all and her smiles can't get any bigger over the whole experience anyways.
Hard to believe a Champion at age 10!
Way to go K-bear.
Love,
DDD
 
 

Thursday, December 6, 2012

When I Turned 18

The is a long sorted tail that starts with me having to admit that I drove a Pacer.


The story gets better from there because my Dad could throw a party. When I turned 18 my Dad considered me a man. Legal adult at least. He said, "now you really can go to jail, always remember that, and I won't come and get you." I said what if I was innocent? He said he'd come then. Then explained if I was to get drunk enough to get arrested I would deserve to sleep it off in the slammer.

When I turned 18 my girlfriend, Tina and my parents and friends threw me a surprise birthday party. I was totally surprised. Completely.

My Dad set up the bar!


Everyone crammed into my bedroom and I had come home before going downtown because I needed a tie to be able to get into Ben's Dad's private club ? (and I didn't even ketch on).




I don't want to get in the way with too many words. I think the following pictures speak for themselves.














Hard to believe I don't remember much of my 18th birthday. I do remember waking up freezing cold in the back yard upper garden beds. Killer party. Thanks Dumbdumbdaddyo.



Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Thanksgiving and the Second Amendment!

We got four days at home together!

That's me practicing my second amendment right. This is my new Ruger 10/22 with extended clip. My dad was a Marine and taught me how to shoot his 22. I've been teaching Kayla like he taught me. Her gun is a custom .22 with large bore barrel, carved thumb hold and scope. She's very accurate. She can hit a can top from a hundred yards!
We had a great Thanksgiving weekend home as a family! We hiked, ate a bunch of turkey and spent quality time together.

This is called, "across the street from Dinosaur Hill." It's my favorite place to walk the dogs off lead.



At the end of one the trails is a rock with a depression I called a bird bath but the girls said it was a nest. My dumbdumbdaddyo-birds.


Suzy and Chloe ran the Grand Junction Turkey Trot 5K!
They did awesome and started a new family tradition.

This picture of Suzy and Chloe says it all. Sometimes staying home is the best way to go!
Best Thanksgiving Ever.


Tuesday, November 20, 2012

1952 Sugar Bowl Champions Game Ball

University of Maryland

1952

Sugar Bowl Champions


In the 1952 Sugar Bowl my dad was a Senior playing for the Maryland Terrapins. They were undefeated and ranked 3rd in the nation and got to play #1 ranked Tennessee. The Terps won 28 to 13. It was my dad's last game. Wikipedia called my Dad an anchor of the defense but he did play both ways and long snapped. This was confirmed because he signed the ball twice with the offense and defensive teams.



I have the football sitting here next to the laptop as I am posting about it and Mary my 4 year old pointed out that the ball on my desk was also on my laptop and she asked if she could hold it. I told he it was her grandfather's football and showed her were he'd signed it. I traced his familiar signature with my finger Jefferson D. Keith. Her face lit up and she said his name Keith tooo! I said yea he was my father and that's why we are named Keith! That autograph of his never changed during his entire adult life.



I just drove my mom from Denver to Phoenix in her car. My brother had driven her from MO to Denver and I was to finish the last leg of her move with my sister. We got to stop in Fruita for a day and visit with the family. We went out to dinner at our favorite restaurant Enzo's and had a great Veteran's Day assembly at the girls school.

When we got to Phoenix my sister Carol asked if I wanted dad's football from the Sugar Bowl and of course I said yes! In the Phoenix airport I took those pictures and carried it loose on the plain. Several people asked about it and one guy said I need to put that in a museum or something! During the drive we talked about a lot but after a couple of hours my listening skills are fried and my mom continues to talk for fifteen straight hours. I'm still trying to short out all she shared but for know I will settle with not having been driven crazy the whole time. One thing I remember was her saying,  "Jeff, your father, tried very hard with you boys because his dad was a real SOB. His dad was mean, really mean, and a drinker. So when it came to being a father he just did what he always wanted his father to do and never did, like show affection and set a good example.

Seeing the McWilliams reunited in Phoenix was a good thing. I plan to go back to AZ with my girls after Christmas for a little family reunion with J and T and E and the McWilliams posse.