Commissioned

Posted on November 12, 2010 by Jan C. Johnson

Wow, it just dawned on me that I never even told you about my son’s commissioning into the US Army! In my defense, it did happen 10 weeks before I even started my blog, but still. It was kind of important. And with yesterday being Veteran’s Day, this is as good a time as any.

I could say it all started with Eric’s graduation from Texas A&M University, but really, the first event was a big surprise before he even started his freshman year. “I want to join the Corps of Cadets,” he told us.

My sensitive, nurturing response: “Who — you??!!? Seriously??” (I wasn’t being mean; he was just so happy-go-lucky that I could not see him in a structured, military-style environment like that.)

“Well, they have mandatory study time every night. I’m afraid if I don’t have something like that I’ll goof off and end up flunking out.” Whoa. Somebody was beginning to grow up. He survived his freshman year. Here he is, before a sophomore-year football game.

At A&M, you can be in the Corps and take ROTC classes with no military commitment through your first two years. So our second surprise was near the end of his sophomore year, when Eric decided to commission with the Army. He signed up for simultaneous membership in the Corps and in Army Reserves, and began spending one weekend a month at the base in Conroe.

After his four years in the Corps, Eric married his wonderful fiancee Heather, and got ready for his “victory lap” (code for one’s second senior year.)

Before we knew it, it was time for graduation. Unlike most parents at commencement, we had no trouble spotting Eric & his buddies in the crowd: they were the ones in various military uniforms rather than caps and gowns.

The schedule was perhaps just a bit tight… It allowed about fifteen minutes for sprinting to the car through a major downpour, driving clear across campus, looking for a parking spot in the six-story garage, and racing across the almost-submerged street to the commissioning ceremony. Brent tried to keep all the relatives together and halfway dry, but we pretty much skidded into Rudder Theater, dripping wet, with all our hearts racing. No idea how Eric got there.

Then the officer introduced the candidates one by one as they came out onto the stage. When there was just one chair left on the front row, Eric walked in. My heart got about three sizes larger. He stood at attention until the officer was finished, then sat straight and motionless through the rest of the introductions. At last they all rose, about twenty young men and women, looking solemn and dignified as they committed themselves to defend our country.

The ceremony was as gratifying as you can imagine. Then came the really hard work. Eric asked Heather and me to “pin” his rank on. Turns out, “Pinning” is done without the help of a single pin. There are these little hook deals on the rank bars, that you’re supposed to wrestle into flat metal slots on the shoulder of the uniform. This would have been easier if Eric’s shoulder had been below eye level, but after a few awkward minutes we both managed it.

After congratulations all around, and visiting with some of the other brand-new 2nd Lieutenants and their parents, we all went out for dinner. It was a perfect ending to a significant day — significant not only to our family, but to the wider Aggie family and our whole country.

Here’s my handsome young man with his dad and grandmother. I am proud to be an Aggie Mom and an Army Mom.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

PS: I am linking up today with my Company Girls friends, many of them fellow moms.

Posted in Everybody Has a Story, Uncategorized | 10 Comments

Expectations: Off

Posted on November 8, 2010 by Jan C. Johnson

We had just endured a ridiculously busy couple of months, so Brent and I decided to take a weekend away from it all, in a charming and historical little town about 90 minutes away. We figured on some romance, eating out, walking the square; also some talking, dreaming and planning, bouncing ideas and motives off each other.

What a great time. We sampled local Italian fare and barbecue, got insider advice from the friendly hotel staff about where to find the best Mexican food, toured a couple of museums, and drove around scoping out some bicycle routes for future reference. We took walks, wandering off the road occasionally to explore a rock formation or a crumbling abandoned building. We listened to each other’s professional concerns and offered encouragement and counsel. A few plans, and a lot of bonding, resulted.

But do you know the best, most relaxing thing about the weekend? I had packed a book, and Brent bought one at a book shop on the courthouse square. And the second evening we just sat in our room and read for about an hour. No schedule, no pressure, no sense of what we “should” be doing with our time. Ignoring the usual clamor of expectations and just “kicking back” for a cozy hour left me feeling renewed and refreshed. (All the better, my book was one on marriage. Brent had already read it, which gave us more to talk about, and I picked up some insights which made me appreciate him more than ever.)

The simple pleasure of that spontaneous down-time could have occurred at home on any given evening or weekend… but it probably would not have. Not with all the lists and paperwork and chores that seem to impose their expectations on our time. BUT, now that I have experienced that kind of rest and freedom, I am more open to the idea of throwing aside expectations when I have a chance. In fact, I look for opportunities.

Now, to keep from swinging too far the other way and ignoring my legitimate responsibilities… 😉

Today (Thursday) I am linking up with Dayle at Simple Pleasures.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

Posted in I Remember When... (my OWN stories), Near As I Can Figure..., Uncategorized | 11 Comments

Category 1

Posted on November 5, 2010 by Jan C. Johnson

or, Fairweather Cyclist Meets Professional Racer

Okay, I knew I needed to go out for a ride some time after lunch last Sunday. But I didn’t quite want to start out with Mr. Hammerhead Brent, just because I knew I would have trouble keeping up. See, the day before, we had gone to College Station for the A&M-Texas Tech game. Our seats were waaaay up in the top deck. By the time I had walked however many miles up the ramp and then climbed the bleachers to our row, I was almost too pooped to Whoop. Of course, I got revived as the Aggies WON THE GAME. The point is, my legs were a little stiff on Sunday, and I thought it best to pace myself.

So when Brent took off before 1:00, I stayed home to keep an eye on the Cowboys game (it didn’t help) and then rolled out on my bike at halftime. I chose a 14½-mile route and soon turned south into the noticeable-but-not-ferocious wind.

On the way back I was dawdling along, taking advantage of the tailwind, when I heard voices behind me. Two cyclists were gaining on me; they caught up as I carefully negotiated a blind corner (my caution in turns being almost legendary).

“Hey, Jan!” I heard. It was Brent, riding with a much younger man. As we accelerated out of the turn, Brent introduced his companion as a friend of his cycling buddy Curt. From that (and his gear), I knew that this guy was a racer. Great. We had just turned out of my nice tailwind, into a quartering headwind AND were going up a slight grade. “Oh, cool!” I puffed to the racer. Pant, pant, puff. “Curt’s a good guy,” I added, just managing to get all four words out in one breath. After that, I kept my mouth shut and concentrated on not getting dropped like a red-hot poker.

When we turned north (away from the wind) and I dared speak again, I told the guys, “Don’t feel like you have to stay back with me; just go at your own pace.” Rather to my surprise, they did not hammer away from me, but held steady. The least I could do in return was try not to slow them down (any more than I already was). Our speed was about two or three miles per hour above my normal pace. Now, two to three mph may not sound like much. But if you’re a somewhat-out-of-shape, middle-aged mom cyclist with stiff legs and 10 extra pounds, the difference is, well… significant. Had it not been for the tailwind, I probably could not have kept the pace for more than 50 yards. As it was, we stayed together for almost three miles. Finally, hope sparked as we approached the road toward our neighborhood. Brent announced this was where we would turn off, and all I had to do was say, “Nice to meet you” — all four syllables in one breath again; life’s little victories — and cruise around the corner.

The very first thing I said to Brent was, “Do what you want; I’m slowing down.” Brent encouraged me about how well I had ridden, and told me that the younger rider was a Category 1 racer. “Cat 1” is the elite level of athlete; the über hammerhead. In short, they go really, really fast. At least it was the off-season, so he had no need to go all-out, but still. I was embarrassed that a professional racer had been stuck riding with such a slowpoke.

As we talked about it later, I realized there was no need for me to be intimidated. Despite my tendency to hold pro racers in awe, they are just people like anyone else. In the first place, Brent told me that Curt had mentored this young racer and helped him get started. So he wasn’t always a pro. Besides, his Cat 1 status is not the sole aspect of his persona. It’s easy to think of people as one-dimensional, as if a racer never does anything besides ride really, really fast. But no one is truly one-dimensional. Everyone is good at some things and not at others, and everyone can learn something from everyone else.

This nice young man had no need to compete with me. He set aside his “racer” ability and rode slowly enough to enjoy Brent’s and my company, and to accommodate me. That’s what real people do. After all, I used to walk slowly enough to accommodate my sons when they were little. (Now over six feet tall, they have to slow down–just a little–for me, but that’s another story.)

Thanks for reading!
Tailwinds,
Jan
P.S. Today I am linking up with Company Girls Coffee. Join us if you’d like!

Posted in Thoughts on Two Wheels, Uncategorized | 9 Comments

Simply Spinach

Posted on November 2, 2010 by Jan C. Johnson

I am linking Tuesday’s post with Dayle’s Simple Pleasures series. Go see her wonderful photos and visit the other bloggers… and see whether your day, like mine, gets a relaxing breath of fresh air.

Malabar Spinach!

A dear friend on staff at UT Arlington gave me the first plants last year. He thinned a few from the clump in his garden and planted them in a used Cool Whip tub for me. “It’s called Malabar Spinach,” he told me. “It’s a summer spinach.”

My eyes lit up as I imagined myself picking fresh spinach for salad in July. No more would I have to wait until Thanksgiving to have any greens from my garden! I planted the young sprouts next to the 2-foot-high chicken-wire (and supposedly dog-proof) fencing around my little veggie patch, watered them in, and waited. Sure enough, they soon took hold and began to climb all over the fence.

I later learned that Malabar is not a true spinach; either way, I think this is the Perfect Plant. The thick leaves are delicious — similar to spinach but without that gritty taste — and smooth, so they’re easy to wash. They’re pretty, too, a nice glossy green with a maroon shadow underneath. (I have a cultivated variety called “Rubra.”) The vine has striking dark purple-red stems, and seems to bloom all the time: little pink spheres that mature to shiny black berries. As the older flowers mature, the stalk keeps growing and putting out new blooms at the end. I recently discovered that the last couple of inches of flower stalk is just as tasty as the leaves, and makes a pretty salad garnish.

I find a Simple Pleasure in being outside, soaking in the quiet sunlight and admiring my “spinach.” Then, I also enjoy the “oomph” it adds to salads. There’s just something wonderful about picking and eating food I have grown for myself. It makes me feel connected to both nature and its Creator.

Thanks for reading!
Jan
PS: Save some of the berries to plant the next spring.

Posted in Uncategorized | 9 Comments

Before You Click “Publish,” Part 3

Posted on October 29, 2010 by Jan C. Johnson

I’m linking up this morning with Company Girls! Welcome, ladies!

This is the LAST of this week’s three-part series devoted to helping your voice be heard in a public online setting such as a blog or forum. In The Soapbox (Posting Your Opinion, Monday) and The Snappy Comeback (Disagreeing With an Opinion Post, Wednesday), I suggested ways to keep online conversations civilized: things like sticking with the issues, avoiding logic errors, and showing respect for people who disagree with you. But while I’m at it, I also want to throw in a word about including family members in your posts.

Part 3: The Skeleton Closet (Posting About Your Family)

1. Respect! My top priority is to respect my husband’s and kids’ feelings. I mention them often, as long as the subject is either neutral (“My husband and sons like to play paintball”) or positive (“I’m proud of the way my sons have explored career paths”).

2. I really try to be fair, neither whiny nor overly rose-tinted, as I describe various aspects of our family. I don’t want to bore you with some implausible fantasy about how absolutely perfect our kids were when they were little. But neither is it fair for me to vent about normal childhood mishaps as if the boys had been deliberately trying to ruin my life. Such a one-sided account is equally implausible. Neither will be of any value to the reader.

3. If you have a serious grievance against close relatives, especially your own spouse or children, it honestly does not help anything for you to air that “dirty laundry” in public. You may gain some sympathy from strangers, but probably at the cost of any trust your loved ones have in you. Better to deal with those issues in a private setting, protecting your family from public scrutiny. As 1 Peter 4:7-9 says, “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” And Paul reminds us in 1 Corianthians 13 that love “is not self-seeking (v. 5),” but rather “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres (v.7).”

4. However, there is a place for transparency and community support when you are dealing with a difficult, no-fault situation such as a handicapped or seriously ill family member.

5. We have no such difficulties in my immediate family. If I do tell a story on any one of us, it is usually either
a) to illustrate some insight I have gained, or
b) just for a laugh.
Either way, if it’s about my husband or son, I almost always run it by them first, to make sure they don’t mind my tattling sharing. Some pastors have a clear policy of never using their child as a sermon illustration without that child’s permission. I have tremendous respect for that.

6. Proofread for grammar and spelling so you don’t sound illiterate. (Yes, you have seen this one before.)

I hope this series has given you some tools for preventing online conflict, and for dodging those bullets that do get through.

Thanks for reading!
Jan

Posted in Near As I Can Figure..., Uncategorized | 10 Comments

Before You click “Publish,” Part 2

Posted on October 27, 2010 by Jan C. Johnson

This is the second in a three-part series devoted to helping your voice be heard in a public online setting such as a blog or forum.

In part 1, we covered The Soapbox–
Define your purpose, think through, research; Organize your points, avoid logical fallacies, admit when you do not have iron-clad proof; Respectfully acknowledge those who may disagree; Proofread for grammar and spelling. Now for…

Part 2: The Snappy Comeback (Disagreeing With an Opinion Post)

So, suppose you read an opinion piece that ticks you off. You want to put the author in his or her place, so you respond with a comment. I promise, no one will take you seriously if all you say is “Your stupid.” This is only partly because the word “your” is misused; it is a possessive. (What you really mean is “you’re” which is short for “you are.” If you start a sentence with the words “Your stupid” the reader expects the sentence to go on, such as “Your stupid cat bit my hand,” or some such.) But the main reason no one will take your comment seriously is that name-calling never inspires respect. In fact, attacking the person rather than addressing the text itself is irrelevant and constitutes another logical fallacy, called the “Genetic Fallacy.” (According to Logicalfallacies.info, this fallacy “is committed when an idea is either accepted or rejected because of its source, rather than its merit.”) So how should you approach your counter-argument? Here again are my recommendations.

1. Read the post carefully to be sure you understand what the writer is saying. Otherwise you risk blasting away at the wrong target, like Tipper and the skunk or, if you remember SNL from the 70s, Emily Littella. (Hint: all her rants petered out with “Oh … never mind.”)

2. Give the author the benefit of the doubt (don’t judge motives or intelligence). Address the issue; you will not win a hearing if you just curse or even criticize the author. (On a related note, the “special characters” kind of hinted profanity shows only that you are coordinated enough to press “Shift” and a number key at the same time.) Regardless of the claim, the author must have some reason, however misguided, for making it. UNLESS the person is just trying to gain attention by raising a storm of controversy. If you have any reason to suspect that is the case, don’t even waste your time responding. That, as one of my Company Girls friends pointed out, is what the “Delete” button is for.

3. Organize your response point-by-point to be sure your counter-statements are relevant to the issue and clearly connected to the claims in the original post. Most logical fallacies are attempts to bring evidence that is not truly relevant to the claim…

Original post: “Candidate X has a proven track record.”

Irrelevant rebuttal: “Candidate Y is a snazzier dresser.”

Better rebuttal: “Candidate X has a great track record in his industry, but that experience is not related to the post he seeks. Candidate Y has 10 years of experience in this specific line of work.”

4. Beware! Avoid a common logical fallacy of responders, which is to assume that an author’s faulty logic proves his claim or opinion is also wrong. (It’s called the “Fallacist’s Fallacy.) For instance, suppose someone writes that:

A) All that glitters is not gold.
B) My engagement ring glitters. Therefore,
C) My engagement ring is not gold.

This author’s logic is flawed. She has not proven that her engagement ring is not gold. BUT that does not necessarily mean that the ring IS gold. Poor logic does not affect the truth of the original claim. That is one reason why…

5. …You might want to point out any factual errors or flaws in logic by phrasing your response as a question: “Your evidence appears flawed because your fact (A) means only that some glittery things are not gold, not that none of them are. Real gold clearly does, in fact, glitter. Have you made other tests, such as having your ring appraised, to determine whether or not it is gold?” Again, using a question rather than a cannonball shows respect for the author and allows for the exchange of ideas.

6. Proofread for grammar and spelling so you don’t sound illiterate.

Thanks for reading! I welcome your comments.
Jan
Next: The Skeleton Closet (Posting About Family)

Posted in Near As I Can Figure..., Uncategorized | 2 Comments