Be Your Own Broom
Be your own broom. Photo by Eric Prouzet on Unsplash
Some of the best parenting advice, heck, life advice, we ever received was from the They Might Be Giants’ song, “I am not your broom.”
The song was on the TMBG CD “No!,” released in 1997 when our son Jonathan was about two years old. The CD included short animations to accompany each song if you played it on your computer. I’d sit for hours with Jonathan on my lap listening to and watching the songs on our aqua-marine iMac.
“I am not your broom” resonated with me for its message which was simply don’t let anyone push you around and be your own person. The advice to “be your own broom” is not in the song’s lyrics. Instead, it’s included on screen in the short animation, repeating with “be your own broom,” “broom is his own broom,” “be your own broom,” and so on.
As our son grew up, even into high school and beyond, the reminder to “be your own broom” was a remedy against peer pressure and a reminder for him to follow his own path. Even today, as he’s become a young, successful entrepreneur, Susan and I will remark, “that’s Jonathan, being his own broom.”
And I can honestly say that I’ve taken the “be your own broom” advice to heart in my own life more than once. To me, it’s a statement that affirms the value of critical thinking and self-reliance.
Yes, TMBG packed a lot into that one-minute and four-second song. You might say, it’s a song that’s resonated for a lifetime.
Back to Go Again
Photo by Pedro Santos on Unsplash
Early in our marriage when we still lived in Ohio, Susan and I took a long weekend trip to downtown Chicago. During a cab ride to dinner, we engaged in lively conversation in the backseat, probably making plans for a visit to Navy Pier or one or another museum the next day. The cab driver found an opportunity to join in.
“You know,” he said, “life is like a game of Monopoly. No matter where you go or how far you travel, you always end up back to go again.”
We all laughed, but that insight has stuck with Susan and me for nearly 30 years. In fact, it’s become one of our marriage mantras. We run into a challenge, Take on a project. Start a new job. And one way or another it feels like “we’re back to go again.”
Instead of viewing this as a negative, like I’m stuck in a rut or I can’t move forward. I tend to view it as a positive. And I think that’s what our cab-driver philosopher intended.
By declaring “I’m back to go again,” I’ve acknowledged that I’ve made it around the board. Maybe I’ve collected $200. At the very least, I’ve gained wisdom and experience that will make my next trip around more fun and fruitful. This “back to go again” approach also helps ground and reset me when I face a big or unexpected challenge.
We drove back to Cincinnati from our wonderful Chicago adventure only to be greeted by a for-sale sign in the front yard of the home we rented. Our landlords had decided to sell and hadn’t bothered to tell us. We found ourselves, not for the last time, back to go again.
Happy 30
Family matters most to me. And above all, my partner, my inspiration, my defender, my best friend—my wife, Susan—matters most. We celebrated 30 years of marriage on February 8. In some small way, I’ve tried to keep the celebration going throughout the month. And let me be honest, when I’m truly awake, I find opportunities to celebrate this amazing partnership every day. Loving the people in my life matters most to me. I’m grateful to have Susan to share this life and this love with. Let the celebration continue!
Thank you, Susan, for these 30 years and all those to come.
The Moon Last Night, the Night Before Last, and the Night Before That
Tonight it’s cloudy in the neighborhood with little chance of a moon sighting. Up until now, it’s been a pretty good week for viewing the moon. Thankful for the clear nights this week that allowed these moon shots. I hope wherever you are tonight, you have a clear view of the full moon.
My moon song playlist on Spotify. What songs are on your moon playlist?
Dog Stories: LuLu Is
LuLu is our most recent rescue. She’s the latest addition to our little pack.
LuLu is our little heart patient. She came to us with a prognosis as short as six-months left to live.
It’s been eight months and LuLu is alive.
LuLu was Lucie. When we adopted her, we already had a Lucy. So, Lucie became LuLu. You know what, she never missed a beat. She responds to LuLu like it’s always been her name. I think she may have always been a LuLu at heart.
LuLu is a Shih Tzu. I never imagined I’d be a Shih Tzu daddy. Now I can’t imagine life without her.
LuLu is loved.
Farewell, and Thank You, Craft Donuts
Craft Donuts and Coffee has closed after four years in business. It’s another one of the small-business casualties of this COVID-19 year. Craft was more than a donut shop. It was a place to gather with family and friends, a place to escape the daily grind, a place to experience new tastes. It was a source for vegan donuts, gluten-free donuts, and custom-crafted coffee drinks. Our walks through town and across the river to Craft became a joyful ritual for Susan and me.
The owners were wonderful neighbors and community partners. They kept going throughout the past 12 months, serving carryout and catering. But this pandemic is relentless and finally, despite loyal customers and innovative offerings, Craft Donut succumbed.
Reports vary, but it’s estimated that up to 800 small businesses a day close due to COVID-19. I’m betting that there are hundreds more that are on the brink, like Craft, until they finally closed.
Small businesses like Craft are the beating heart and soul of our small town and nation. I’ll keep shopping small, ordering take out and doing what I can to help our town’s remaining small businesses stay afloat. And I’ll hope and pray for some light at the end of this long pandemic tunnel.
Craft Donuts and Coffee closed its three locations this week, including our donut destination in West Dundee, Illinois. (Susan and Mike Barzacchini photos)
6 Basic Success Tips for Your Business and Your Career
When I get stuck, lost, or blocked, I return to these six tips:
Ask questions.
Listen actively.
Apply what you do and who you are to what they need.
Share your ideas. Be generous with your ideas.
Embrace the ideas of others, amplify and celebrate them.
Seek to serve. Seek to solve.
Sounds simple enough, but it’s easy to stray. When I do drift, these tips act as a compass to get me back on course. What tips do you find helpful to get you back on track?
Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash
The Value of Conversation
Most Friday mornings I have a brief call with a colleague. We talk for about an hour. The agenda is loose. I try to help him with writing projects designed to move his business forward and he helps me work on goals and milestones around some of my bigger projects. Often we stray from these topics to catch up on our families, culture, and current events.
As we wrapped up last week’s call, my colleague asked if we were making good use of our time. Were these regular meetings benefiting us?
The answer to me was clear, simple, and in one word. “yes.” I shared with my colleague that our talks both motivate and inspire me. I always leave these calls refreshed.
As the pandemic persists, I've come to value and crave conversation for the sake of connecting and as a way to balance a work-life that bounces between isolation and over-scheduled. And I’m already looking forward to this week’s call.
Photo by Cody Engel on Unsplash
Listen First. Listen Most. Keep Listening.
When I’m doing my best as a husband, father, friend, colleague, or leader, I’m listening first, I’m listening most, and I keep listening. I’ve never regretted “over-listening,” as if there even is such a thing. Listening has never failed me. It’s a vital skill and one I’m constantly seeking to improve.
Secret Squirrel
This guy spies from up high,
Peeking into my home-office window.
#secretsquirrel
Mike Barzacchini photos
Not Letting Fear Hold Me Back
This week, I attended my first Real Skills Conference. During a breakout session, my group talked about fear, including the negative (fear as a barrier) and positive (fear as a motivator) aspects. Here are a few of my notes from the discussion.
6 Stages of Dealing with Fear:
Acknowledge the Fear.
Face the Fear.
Lean into the Fear.
Understand the Fear.
Confront the Fear
Defeat the Fear.
Fears Shared in My Breakout Sessions:
Fear of finishing.
Fear of breaking through or not being able to break through.
Fear of having to rely on yourself.
Fear of trusting yourself.
Fear of not being able to scale your success.
Fear of boredom.
We also talked about why we might be grateful for fear. I shared that fear could be motivating and that fear can also help us see things with more clarity.
There’s strength in realizing I’m not the only one dealing with fear as a possible barrier to progress and success. The key is to not let fear hold me back. Ultimately, the power is to choose to do the thing we are afraid of doing.
What fear holds you back? How can you deal with that fear? And why might you be grateful for your fear?
Photo by Sammie Chaffin on Unsplash
Scenes From a Winter's Day
The days are gradually getting longer. Temperatures today rose to something almost above bearable. The sun rose and shined. And these scenes from this winter’s day warmed me.
Dog Stories: Roy and Max
When we brought Roy home in May 2020, any stuffed toy we gave him had a life expetency of five minutes or less. It took him no time at all to “kill” the squeaker and eviserate the poor creature. There was stuffing everywhere.
Recently, Roy’s behavior has shifted, especially with one toy, a small stuffed dinosaur that Susan and I have dubbed Max. Max has become a constant and comforting companion for Roy. It’s great to see him making new friends.
Happy Birthday, Grandma Ruth
Today, February 16, is my Grandma Ruth’s birthday. Actually, Ruth was my grandmother-in-law, my wife’s maternal grandmother. But she’s as close to a grandparent as I ever had.
My mother’s father, Edward, died when my mom was young, as did my father’s mother, Isola or Hazel. My maternal grandmother, Ora, remarried, and she died before I was born. I think the first time I “met” my step-grandfather, Glen, her second husband, was at his funeral. I was around eight years old. My paternal grandfather, Fred, died when I was two years old.
So it wasn’t until Susan and I married that I fully experienced grandparent love. With our marriage, I inherited a paternal grandfather and grandmother, a paternal step-grandfather, and Ruth, her mom’s mom. On some level, I was able to spend time and get to know each of them. But there’s no doubt that Ruth had the most profound impact on my life.
Ruth knew that I had grown up without grandparents. From the time we met, I was to call her “grandma.” She readily accepted me into her family. It was interesting and fun learning to become a grandson at age 30.
When I think of Ruth, I think of strength, compassion, and kindness. She worked her entire life, mostly alongside her husband Frank, at their small business, a combination toy, hobby, and barbershop in Crystal Lake, Illinois.
When Susan and I first married, I was unemployed and underemployed for a time. Ruth would call our home to speak with Susan. I’d answer and say, “Hello Grandma.” Her response was always straight to the point, “Are you working yet?”
I would joke with Susan about this, but her simple, direct question contained multitudes, including concern and motivation. I can honestly say that from 300 miles away, Ruth helped remind me of my purpose at that time in my life — to find work that would help me secure a future for my family. And it did.
A few years later, we moved near Ruth; We were then more often able to experience one of my favorite things to do with her and I think one of her favorite things to do with us — go out to eat. We’d take Ruth out on special occasions like Easter brunch or Mother’s Day. But often it was a “just because” meal. These always felt like special occasions. I still smile when I remember Ruth and Susan competing to see who had the most olives in their salads during lunch at Olive Garden.
After Ruth died, the family had an oak tree planted at Veteran Acres in Crystal Lake, just outside the third baseline of the ball diamond named for her husband, Frank Repp Field. When the snow finally melts this spring, Susan and I will visit Ruth’s tree. It’s a great place to remember her and to reflect how wonderful it is to experience a grandparent’s love, even if it comes along later in life.
One of my favorite memories, with our son Jonathan and his great-grandmother Ruth before Sunday brunch at the Barn of Barrington, Barrington, Illinois, sometime around 2000. Susan Barzacchini photo,
The plaque near Ruth’s tree in Veterran Acres.
How Did You Come Up With Your Band's Name?
In 2010, I worked as a freelancer for a now-defunct music website. One assignment was to interview bands heading to Austin for SXSW. The editors provided 10 questions for the interview, the first four they deemed as “critical” for the story. Those questions were:
Describe your sound in your own words.
How did your band form?
What/Who are your musical influences?
How did you come up with your band name?
Pretty good questions. I especially like number four. If you have a band, how did you come up with its name? And if you started a band, what would you name it? I think I’d call my band “Glad to See You.”
Photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash
Late Fragment by Raymond Carver
We are all just looking to belong. We search for our identity. We crave love. This poem fragment by Raymond Carver says it all. Happy Valentine’s Day. May your heart and life always be full.
“Late Fragment
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.”
―Raymond Carver, A New Path to the Waterfall
Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash
Happy Valentine's Day From My Spirit Animal and Me
Happy Valentine’s day from Dino, my spirit animal, and me. Or am I his spirit animal? I can never remember. And yes, it’s true. We do share the same hair. May your day, your week, and your life be filled with love and joy.
Dog Stories: The Ballad of Dino, the Runaround Dog
We adopted Dino, our standard poodle mix rescue, in March 2015. Gentle and loving, I remember the one disclaimer his foster mom shared before we took him home.
“He did wander off once. We found him walking down the sidewalk. It didn’t seem like he was running away. More like he was just going out for a walk.”
In our first few weeks with Dino, we experienced this runaround nature first hand. He bolted from the backseat of our car after a trip to town. He once ran past my father-in-law and out the front door prompting a family search of our neighborhood. When our son Jonathan was home from college, Dino also got away. That time, Jonathan coaxed him into the backseat of a neighbor’s car. Perhaps the only thing Dino likes better than a walkabout is a car ride. Then there was the time Dino took an unplanned off-leash adventure with me in pursuit.
It was early April and spring weather was finally making an appearance in Northern Illinois. I’d craved a long walk with Dino for weeks. He needed the activity and I needed the exercise. It was Sunday morning. No work or chores to get in the way. Let’s go.
I woke early and slipped the dogs out of the bedroom without disturbing Susan. My plan was to feed both, take Daisy, our bichon, out for a quick squirt, then go on my long jaunt with Dino.
Daisy changed my plans with her mournful gaze. “Take me too, Dad,” she seemed to say. I could never resist her big eyes. So, I hooked up both dogs and we started down our road into town.
Just outside the center of our small town, Dino stopped to do his business. I transferred both leashes to my left hand so I could pull a poop sack from my back pocket. For a moment, my grip on Dino’s leash loosened. That’s all it took.
Dino bolted toward town, dragging his leash. I followed, trying not to drag Daisy, but urging her to move her short legs as fast as possible. I knew we couldn’t keep up, but I was trying to at least keep Dino in view.
He ran past the town depot, through the restaurant district, and took a right toward the Fox River. I swear at least twice, he looked back at me as if to ask, “Hey Dad, are you coming?”
By the time I reached the street he’d turned down, I was gassed. and Daisy and I could barely jog. It was 6 a.m. on Sunday morning. There was no one around except for me, Daisy, and runaround Dino. Then a gray pickup pulled to a stop at the corner coming up the street Dino had run down.
Before I could ask the driver if he’d seen a dog, he rolled down his window and said, “Hey, are you looking for a big black poodle?”
“Yes,” I said,
“Well, he’s down the street in a parking lot and it looks like he’s waiting on someone.”
I thanked him and headed that way. Before I could take two steps, Dino came up the street toward me looking way too pleased with himself.
I’d seen this trick before. He’d gotten off leash and ran toward both Susan and me only to bolt past us and continue the merry chase. I braced myself to try to tackle him, but this time was different. He stopped just in front of me, sat down, and let me take his leash. I alternately praised and cursed him, but was so grateful that he had returned.
The three of us headed back to the picnic tables near the town square so I could get a catch my breath and get my pulse back somewhere near normal.
Since that time, Dino has settled (somewhat). We haven’t had any runaway or runaround incidents. And I’m thankful that this last time he at least met me halfway. Have a great weekend and keep a tight grip on the leash. I know I will.
Back to the Basics
This weekend, I’m spending time getting back to basics. What do I mean? My basics are those habits and practices that fuel my life in a positive way and keep me moving forward. They include:
Drink water
Brew tea
Read
Write
Focus
Stretch
Serve
Solve
Really, anytime is a good time to get back to basics. What are your basics?
It’s always a good time to get back to basics.
In Search of Happy Places
It’s important to find our happy places, especially during challenging times. And once we’ve found them, it’s good to go back and revisit them often, even if it’s just in our mind.
One of my happy places is the Coronado Beach Dog Park. These photos are from our visit there in October 2019. Watching these dogs splash and play in the surf was my definition of pure joy.
I’m not sure when we’ll get back, but I’m glad Coronado Beach exists in my happy place memory bank.
Where are your happy places?
