Marriage & Moms In Law

I was married back in 1996. Susan is my second wife. I am her third. When I was given permission to kiss my new bride, My 5 year old son covered his face with his hands and said 'Oh Brother' and the first thing that came out of Susan's mouth was "I give us a year". We all have images of what certain events are supposed to be like. My idea of driving back to the house after getting married did not include Susan's mother sitting in the back seat burning the hair off my neck with her 'death' stare. Now that Susan's mother has passed away I try to tell my pastor that he can relax as the Anti-Christ has come and gone and everything is OK. We survived. One Christmas Susan's mother came to stay with us and never left. You have to be my age to remember the old black and white movies. Life turns into a black and white when you walk into the room where the woman waits. If you remember them, then think of an old Humphrey Bogart film. The room is filled with smoke and you can cut the tension with a knife. As the color begins to fade you sense the air becoming heavy. Somewhere in the room you can hear the Darth Vadar like 'in and out' of the oxygen machine. And there in the corner she sits, eyes on you like two little red lasers dancing across your lungs, sucking all the air and energy right out of you. It was how she survived. I learned from this woman that some people don't follow the rules we've all agreed to follow. When I ask you how you are doing, you tell me that you are fine. Velma's answer is "Not too Good". An hour later you are still there hearing all about it. When I ask you if you need anything, you thank me and say no. 'Have a good time' does not exist. Yea! Some of you are there, aren't you? You know her don't you? On the other hand, sits my life, a true angle. With no help from the rest of her family, Susie spent two years taking care of her mom and never complaining. After we settled into this slow burn we managed to creep along. To help, I would try to arrange for weekend trips. It was always the same. The night before our trip Velma would begin to complain of chest pains. I used to beg her not tell her. Lets just go and leave a note, or don't even leave a note, just leave some food. It is rare that we ever took one of the weekends and if we did we never had a good time and usually ended up coming home early. Having had another weekend ruined, I told Velma that I thought that she should contact the American Journal of Medicine as they would be very interested in her. It was always difficult to have a conversation with Velma. She had arthritis and the crooked finger she used to point at me felt like a deadly weapon. She was hooked up to an oxygen machine which made a sound I can still hear today. She never brushed her hair, wore pajamas all day long and no plumber ever wore pants any lower than her. I could handle all of this but the fact that she never wore her teeth was just too much. I was angry this time and seeing how tired Susan was from the constant care giving I would at least have my say. "What dooo Yaa mean?" she asked. "Well, Velma, you are the only person I know that can in the morning have a massive stroke or heart attack and then by that afternoon be fully recovered. How do you do it Velma? You are a miracle of modern medicine." Before we went past the part where she tells me she hates me, etc. Etc. I left. Have you ever sat at the table on tried to watch someone eat spaghetti without their teeth in. I looked over at 6 year old shaking trying not to laugh out loud with his hand over his head trying to block the view if all these noodles hanging down from Velma's chin, just hanging there, not moving. The sucking sound, the sight, it was a Kodak Moment for sure. What is ironic is that Susan's Mom is the one that got us together. I had been separated for about 6 months and had spent most of those 6 months sitting in my apartment or spending time with my son. One night the phone rang and it was Susan calling to ask if I could come over and look at the furnace. It was Velma's idea to call me. I guess they figured since I was an architect I would know about such things. Nothing could be further from the truth, but at that point I was more than ready to have a conversation with anyone where the words popo, peepee and dodo weren't included. Plus I was attracted to Susan and had never met her mom. Susan thanked me for coming telling me that her and her mom had been huddled around the fire for over an hour. Showing me to the furnace room I wondered what in the world I would do. Susan pointed to a shelf where a bunch of tools were located. Having had a dad who had passed away and two husbands, Susan had a bunch of tools. Unknown to her, she was talking to just about the most unhandy person she would ever meet. This would later become a very big bone of contention between her mom and I. I did what men do. I asked Susan to leave the room and I'd join them in a bit. Basically all I did was look. Finally I found the red reset button, pushed it and on it came. I was rewarded by being given a grilled cheese sandwich, potato chips and a coke. That was our first dinner. For me it was like a feast. Talking to people and having someone put dinner on a TV tray made me feel like a king. Thanking her Susan told me she missed cooking for someone as her mom hardly ate anything. Being so taken by Susan I hardly noticed the lack of color coming from the corner where her mom sat and watched. Loving to cook was the first exaggeration of the truth in my relationship. Well into the relationship and having been married before I sat Susan down and told her that we needed to have a heart to heart. I wanted Susan to know that there were certain things about me that would not change. I knew me well enough to know that there were things about me that had a lot to do with my first divorce. I had given this a great deal of thought and had concluded there were 10 things about me that Susan needed to know. I gave her my list telling her that if she had a problem with any of these things then we should probably call it all off. Some of these were simple things relating to sex, some were more complex if its possible for a man to think anything is more important or complex than sex. Susan looked at me thoughtfully and replied by telling me that she loved everything about me. She had loved me from the very beginning and loved me just the way I was. If you are a man you may not get it. If you are a woman you know exactly what just happened. I had just given my bride to be a list of the 10 things that she was going to change. I laid it all out on a silver platter for her. Men all I can tell you is to protect your list, hold onto it, hide it. Guard it with your life. Over the years I have seen each one of the items removed from my life as I have become the man my wife always knew I could be. The first and a most painful change occurred early on. This was not on the list but it was one of those things that had something to do with me getting to where I was going. One night after another 30 minute massage I told Susan from a dream like state that I felt so guilty for not returning the favor. I told her that every time she gave me a massage I intended to return the favor but she made me feel so good that all I wanted to do was lay back and relax. Susan's reply was every man's dream. "Rick, I love giving you massages, I could do this every night. I don't really like getting massages myself because I'm just that way." UUMMMMM I am in heaven. Several months after we were married I had been missing my massages. Laying down on the bed next to her I asked her for a massage. Her reply was she was too tired and didn't feel like it. "But Susan, your promise, you told me you'd give me a massage everyday. You told me you loved giving them to me and that you didn't need me to return the favor." I used what up until that time I thought was the unbreakable rule of law: "You Promised!" Susan was laying on her back propped up in bed reading a book. She pulled down her reading glasses and peaked over: "I cannot believe that I married someone stupid enough to believe something like that!" Then she returned to her reading. It has always bothered me that people tell you to look at your mother in law and that is your wife in 20 years. After giving up 10 very special things that made me what I was and having to find massages in those chairs in the malls over the holidays, I have learned a lot. If you are thinking of getting married shoot me an email. I can help. God knows we need the help. I asked Susie about my top ten list. I asked her if she intentionally used that list as a kind of work sheet. She replied by asking me if I remember asking her about the massages.

Looking Back: Rick Lee

You are reading my short story because I can't finish the book. I'm hoping that this might help jump start my career as a writer. I'm a second generation architect from the south. My father was Chinese and my mother was from one of the poorest counties in western NC. I am 57 years old. I grew up in a small town in western NC. I am married to my second wife and have a son from my first marriage. He doesn't speak to me. We have 5 dogs. I don't know if this is true or not but someone told me that Donald Trump said he would not do business with anyone that did not have a prenuptial agreement. I feel the same way about dogs. There is something wrong with you if you don't have a dog. You might be able to say God made some mistakes or that you don't like the setup, but you got to hand it to him when it comes to dogs. But that's another story. I love to think about how things have changed over time; to compare a perfect day today to a perfect day from years ago. Is there a difference? Is there more 'color' today than yesterday if youo know what I mean. Why is it that we always remember our past as being better than the present? 'The good old days' or 'Those were the days'. We all know why the name of the show was 'Happy Days'. I come from that very unique generation that began things without computers. There has never been a generation to go thru so much in such a short period of time. I imagine the industrial revolution when cars and airplanes came along was similar but I missed that. In the 1960's, 70's and 80's, most people didn't have a cell phone. In the 11th grade I had to cheat to get through my typewriter course. I heard a comedian say that he could type over 100 words a minute, but it was in his own language. That's me. My son was typing without looking before he was out of the first grade. I'm still looking. My first year in college I took the last course ever offered in slide rules. I grew up in an age where most Moms did not work. I walked to and from elementary school. I went to a Junior high school. No one knew what a middle school was. When I was in school, learning how to read and write was more important safety because no one worried about it. Heck my senior prom was actually at the high school I went to. Does anyone know what a 'sock hop' is? You could take a knife to 'Show and Tell'. I probably got a spanking in school once a month. I had to stay after school in the first grade my parents probably thought school got out at 4:00. My Dad loved to sit down with me a review my life with me. We would start off taking a look at the last month, then finally work our way down to the last few days only to conclude that a belt was coming my way. I only tried putting a comic book in my pants once. After that I was searched. The first time my son saw a telephone with a rotary dial he thought it was the next big advancement in telephone technology. If you have a young kid and want a thrill, show him your record player. I even know what a 45 is. Do you remember those gizmos that had little mirrors that you placed in the middle over the record. As the record went around and around the screen on the record label reflected off the mirror and seemed to move. That was my MTV. I can remember when you only had 3 TV stations to watch and TV went off the air at midnight. My parents didn't have to worry about what I watched on TV because it was all good. I think most people my age will admit that our cartoons are still by far the best. I guess we can't afford to pay for the animators but no one has replaced Bugs Bunny and his friends. I do have to admit that I had the big idea to expose my son to this lost art. After some time at the video store I came across the Three Stooges. I rented a collection of their greatest shows. My son sat their pretty much in silence trying to figure out what in the heck daddy had put in front of him. The violence was incredible, I couldn't believe it. I never remembered the Stooges for the violence. But there it was. By this time my son's mother and I had separated and were divorced. Needless to say, when this began I had a lot to learn about mothering a child. Tai's mom seemed to have a talent for finding out everything that went on between us during our weekends. Finding out that Dad had shown him the Stooges 'Female Women Haters Club' did not look good on my report card. But we all knew it was different, You knew it wasn't real. Growing up, my parents did not have a dish washer and it allowed them to spend time in front of the sink after dinner talking as they washed and dried. They spent most of that time talking about things I did that shouldn't have been done. And there you go, they were talking about it. They pretty much had in their day a time when they were alone talking about how the day had gone. So often I find myself ending the workday only to find myself in front of the TV blocking out the world. My wife eats in front of her computer and I in front of the TV. Thinking back to the way things were makes me know I have to find these times with Susan. It never crossed anyone's mind that a girl should be allowed into the boy scouts. I went to Sunday school, church and Sunday dinner. My parents and most parents I knew would never thought of missing a PTA meeting. My parents used to let us out of the house on Saturday morning and didn't look for us until lunch. After lunch, we were again gone until supper. And sure things happened, they were bound too. But in my life, a mom was never very far away and any stranger spotting a child in trouble would only stop to help. The major form of entertainment for kids was reading comic books. John and I would walk up to the Hazelwood Pharmacy and look at all the comic books until we finally decided on one. Sergeant Rock, Zoro, Superman, Flash and Batman were high on our list. Once we had our comic book, we'd find a place and read to each other. John and I were real big on playing Army so after reading Sergeant Rock, we would get our battle gear on and head for the battlefields of Europe which for us was the woods behind our house. John and I learned a lot up there. We were next door neighborhoods and were blood brother. One of our blood oaths taken around 5-6 was that we would commit suicide if we ever got to be as old as 50. We played a lot of army up in those woods. There was a large field behind our house which was a playground for the high school. Between the woods and field was our clay bank. About 50' high and sloped at a 50 degree angle is was perfect from reliving D-day and storming the banks of Normandy. I don't think they have figured out how to completely remove clay from blue jeans. Having read hw Sergeant Rock repelled off the cliffs of Dover we were anxious to learn. At 6 to 8 I would guess its natural for some of the finer things in the art of war to escape you. As the Germans were bearing down on us we had to repel off the top of the cliff and down to our awaiting pontoon boats. John and I had just blown up a large gun that had our troops pinned down. John agreed to hold Jerry off while I went over the cliff first. I took one end of the rope and tied it to one of the trees near the edge of the bank, next taking the other end and wrapping it around my waist. Then telling John to hold them off or die trying I jumped. On my way down the bank bouncing off the clay I knew that I'd done something really wrong. Luckily the angle of the bank made it more like rolling than falling. I couldn't breath for awhile stopping several feet short of the bottom. As bank as it felt it was not as bad as the message John delivered to my Mom which basically went something like Rickey went off the clay bank and isn't breathing. Looking at me from the back yard and seeing me standing up she sent John back to tell me to come home after I started breathing again. That was pretty much how our parents dealt with war, superman and zoro. John separated his shoulder having been convinced by me that if he just held the cap out wide that everything would work as he jumped off the garage. But I don't think we ever had anything worse than that. We did spend a lot of time landing on things or running into things that caused us to stop breathing. There was the one time we found fire crackers in my parent's night stand next to the bed. We knew that night stands were off limits. There were always balloons in these places. We new they were special after the first time my mom caught us in the living room blowing them up. We were going to make balloon animals that day. Sex is one of things that never came up. I don't remember the age but it was the underwear section of the Sears Catalogue when I first noticed that strange little twinge. When I was little I loved to wake up before the TV came on. In the winter I sit on the floor against the register wrapped in a blanket waiting for the TV to come on. First would be elevator music, followed by the test pattern that had the Indian Chief in middle. This was followed by a 30 minute farm show. And then finally, call Mr. Bill and Bozo's Famous Cartoons. For me it was the perfect way to start every day. The rest of the house was still except for my Dad's snoring. But back to those balloons. One morning I must have overslept. I remember waking up and realizing the sun was out. It was a Saturday morning and I was ready to meet John and go to war. The first thing I remember about the morning was how it was still so quite. Dressed and ready to go I shot out of my bedroom across the living room into my parent's bedroom. Mom was on her back with the covers pulled up to her chin staring at the ceiling. What was strange was that my daddy's feet were on the pillow next to her...........I had to ask. The reply was that my daddy liked sleeping like this? You know, for about 3 months I almost suffocated trying to discover why daddy liked sleeping like this. After a while he just denied that it ever happened. I came into the world before 'fast food' and motel chains. I really miss not having the little roadside motels with the swimming pools. I guess it was the excitement because each motel was different. They always had swimming pools, some had putt putt golf courses. They had a magic Holiday Inn will never have. I guess the first notion of a chain for me was Howard Johnson. We always drove until dark when traveling. But I was lucky because my parents always let me change into my trunks and hit the water as soon as we checked in. I should have known by now but all I cared about was the swimming pool. I've got to tell you, Hazelwood Pharmacy had the best hamburger I've ever had. It was simple burger. They bought the meat and made the patty. Put it on the flat griddle and put it on simple bun. You could get French fries and a milk shake right there. We'd sit on the stools at the bar and spin until those burgers were about ready to come back up. Am I crazy or do you agree that there was something really special about those kinds of places. To this day I can remember what the Hazelwood Pharmacy smelled like. I can also remember those little paper hats the cook always wore. Same hat as the guy who delivered milk in glass bottles to our door step. I wish this was not true but I am from the last generation that found nothing wrong with going to school, getting a job and spending your life working in the same place. My Dad who was an architect, started back in 1956 with his partner, Henry and worked there until 5 days before he passed away in 1993. Ms. Wilson the secretary came to work for them in the late 1950's and stayed there until she retired. When Ms. Wilson's mind started slipping, Dad and Henry packed her up and took her to her home town of St. Louis and placed her in a retirement community. They made sure she was taken care of until she passed away. Work started at 8:00. Coffee was at 10:00. Ms. Wilson had coffee and some kind of pastry ready every morning. Break lasted until Dad stood up. Coffee was a mix of sports, politics and business. You were not allowed to miss coffee break. Ms. Wilson took the time to get us ready for coffee, and no one screwed around with Ms. Wilson. Until I took over the office in the 1980's, all of our employees were permanent. When I was in school, Ms. Wilson used to type my big reports. She typed for the kids of other employees too. The idea that this was not her job did not exist in this office. It's the word 'family' that comes to mind. I don't know if it was my Chinese heritage or the way things were in the 'Good old days' but it was assumed that I would become an architect and return to work for my Dad. All my life I have held onto this work ethic, trying to find it, trying to create it and trying to give it to whomever I worked for. In my life I have had 4 jobs; my fathers office from 1977-2002, an A/E Firm in Chattanooga, a design/build company and now working out of my house. Truly, today's work place will never replace what my father and Henry had. I honestly believe that the greatest gift an employee can give to an employer is loyalty. I have tried to discuss this concept of commitment that each should give to the other but no one I talk to realy seems to believe what they are hearing, I guess because they don't know what it is. So this story mainly deals with Dad's view of the workplace. It all began with the 8 track tape player as this was a hint of things to come. By the time I got an 8 track tape player in my car, cassette players were coming out. Before I could take a nap we had CD players. We've been on that kind of pace ever since. Before that time, it was a record player, TV, Movies and the Radio. Now it's a CD Player, World Radio, Lap Tops, and on and on. My wife's Nook was obsolete by the time she unwrapped it. Before writing about my Father's architectural firm I think it's important to mention that I have never really cared for architects. If you have ever worked with an architect you know what I mean. I used to write for a magazine and was well received. I even had a fan club in the state of Washington. I was supposed to write articles about architecture and construction, but instead I made fun of architects. We're an easy target. We are the group that went around trying to get the world to call cars 'people movers'. Next time you're in a conversation about cars, insert 'people movers' and see where it takes you. We like to talk about the interaction of positive and negative spaces even though most of us aren't sure what that means. Unlike attorneys, architects have a wide range of 'looks'. There are the architects that wear tan pants, jackets with elbow patches and hush puppies. There is a short sleeve shirt under that jacket. This guy is a little unorganized but out of the bunch I probably trust him the most. Then there is the coffee house architect that wears all black. You cannot trust your budget with these guys. Beatniks came and went pretty quick, but here are the architects trying to hold onto their 'look'. I'll at least give us credit for not buying into leisure suits. A popular look today is the attorney 'look'. The problem is that we give it away because we wear comfortable shoes that don't match the suit. The ties don't work either. I have tried all of these 'looks', except my wife made sure my shoes and ties worked. Today I am creating a new look which consists of what I slept in the night before and dress shoes. I think I have finally found myself in my look. The biggest problem I have with us as a profession is that our egos will not fit into most of the buildings we design. The one thing my Dad taught me is that I am designing for you, not me. My father's office was in a two story house that they converted into an office. The secretary, conference room, print room, kitchenette and bathroom were downstairs. Upstairs was one big loft space with all the drafting tables in a single row surrounded by tons of catalogues. Dad liked the idea of us all being together so he could see what you were doing and we could ask questions. His drafting table had a parallel bar, several triangles, French curves, an electric eraser and lead pointer. Lead pointers are just what they say. We had metal pencils that held a stick of lead. When the point got dull you would let some lead out by pushing the button on the end and place it into the pointer that you would turn round and round until it was sharp. When I got to college I and my fellow students took pride in the fact that these pencils or lead holders made perfect roach clips. You could always pick out the pot smokers because our lead points were black on the end. Everyone also had slide rules. There was a neat little gizmo called a 'leroy set'. One would take a technical ink pen and place it in the Leroy scribe. Then you would place it in one of many templates which allowed you to print perfect letters. We used these for titles, and special notes. The most difficult thing to keep on your desk was a scale or ruler that was marked up for measuring feet and inches. Truly using all of these tools is a lost art. Everyone in the office took pride in creating drawings using these tools. I must say that several years ago when I took my son to an orientation at Ga. Tech, I was thrilled to see that the students were being required to learn how to draw using these tools. I can't put my finger on it but I know that learning how to draw with a hammer and chisel is important and was glad to see it. My son who had already learned cad in high school was not impressed. The one thing I have to mention before I leave this is the 'slide rule'. Everyone welcomed the coming of the calculator. No one viewed this as the loss of a great art. Being in college and looking for all the help I could get, I didn't give it a second thought. I still have my father's bamboo K&E slide rule. I even have a round slide rule or had. My let my son play with it and have never seen it since. That's the problem with technology. Every time we take a step forward we have to give up something. We often don't know what it is or even know its happening but it is happening. I recently saw the impact of calculators when I made the mistake of giving a girl at Sonics a 10, a 5 and a quarter for bill that was $12.15. Giving her the quarter is what messed her up. I saw her using her fingers and finally she gave me $1.20 with a 'is that right?' look on her face. Spell checkers are just as bad although right now I'm happy to have it. If I ever get enough to write that book it's just this impact that I want to look at. We can't add and we can't spell but we need to know how or do we. Sure seems like we're giving up something we ought to be holding onto. It took me about 3 years to get Dad to buy a computer for the office. We were finally using electric typewriters and had a copy machine. He let me go to seminars about computers and Cad programs just to humor me. He didn't like computers. He told me that if you didn't draw your work by hand you were not giving yourself enough time to understand what you were drawing. He was right but if I write about it you'll never see this story. One day I finally talked Dad into taking a look at a computer. The system was a 286 and came with a four pen plotter. It had both a cad program and word processing program. I had been talking to this company for weeks and was really excited about it. At that time there were only 3 firms in our town and none of them had computers. The firms in Asheville just 40 minutes away were coming up to speed with them. This is also about the time that power point machines were showing up in the larger markets. I know of them and it was killing me that we were still using a slide projector at our interviews. That was the deal. If we interviewed for a larger project and firms from larger cities like Charlotte were there, power point machines showed up. The local guys were showing pictures with slide projectors. Things were happening so fast that the difference in getting and not getting work didn't have anything to do with your work but what kind of machine you were using. Dad always believed that his work and his ability to communicate was all he needed. It worked for him. I didn't have the talent. I knew I needed the gizmos. In a sense it's like standing on the edge of a cliff with everything you know standing behind you and gladly giving it all up and jumping off, without even looking back. That day of the presentation, they came in after lunch and set up. It is impressive. The big box with the little green screen, the huge cpu, wires going everywhere and the big four pen plotter that automatically drew your drawings. Back in those days, every cad demonstration had a wire frame rendering of the space shuttle. And sure enough early into the presentation up comes the space shuttle. It's a pretty impressive drawing. Dad looked at it for a second and said "What in the hell is that?" The guy says, "Well Mr. Lee it's the space shuttle." "I know what the space shuttle is but why in the hell am I looking at it?" Tai looks over at me and asks: "Boy, anybody hired me to design the space shuttle and besides, we don't draw perspectives." I looked at the guy and urged him to keep going. As he started showing us the various tools that came with the cad program I noticed that Dad had fallen asleep. After about 15 minutes, I woke him up and asked him what he thought. He looked at me and said "I'm busy, what in the hell do I have to do to get rid of this guy." I replied by telling him he needed to buy the machine. He asked about the cost, $11,000.00 was the answer. 'Shit' was his reply. I think Tai knew that for me this would one day be a part of my life. I think he was just trying to make sure I had done my homework. It was one of those moments of dead silence. The two salesmen were standing there, looking for some sort of sign, trying to decide whether to talk about a sale or just get out. Dad reached over the table to the phone and buzzed Ted upstairs telling him to bring the auditorium project down. Ted was our best draftsman and I kid you not when I tell you that Ted's work truly looked like art. Ted began by working for a contractor. He spent time in the Navy and was a draftsman. Ted knew more about how a building went together than anyone I knew. He also smoked four packs of cigarettes in a day and could out curse anyone I had ever met. Ted comes in with the drawing and lays it on the table. "Here's the deal" says Dad. "Ted, go upstairs and trace this floor plan and put 300 seats in it." Then he looks at the salesman and says "Computer man, you draw same thing on machine. We see who faster." Whenever Dad wanted to make a point or whenever it served him, his accent got very Chinese. Ted replies to Dad "Tai, I'm too G Damn busy to do this and besides I've already drawn it." "Ted, go do it, I want to see what space shuttle man can do." He smiled as he got up and said "Lets see what you can do Mr. Space Shuttle." Tapping the table like he'd just won a bet. As Tai and Ted walk upstairs I heard Tai say something about the G. Damn space shuttle. It only took a couple of hours. It was no contest. Having already drawn it, it took Ted no time to redraw the floor plan. Later Tai told me that he would buy the machine but it better not slow me down. He told me that the problem is that you either have people like Ted who know how buildings go together or people like shuttle man who know computers. He asked me how I liked my chances of finding someone in a small town who could do both. I don't know if you know what a 286 or a 386 is. These were the days before Pentium processors. I was working on a very large high school at the time. I went day and night trying to learn how to draw with the computer and to use the plotter. Perfect printing, dimensions within 1/16" of an inch. I knew this was going to help us. The thing about the cad program back in those days is that you had to remember to save your work. It takes about 4 seconds. However, using a 286 on a floor plan that was so big was really getting to be a problem. It was taking longer and longer to execute commands. It became a nightmare but I wasn't about to tell anybody. I was close to being finished, Tai had been bugging me about not being done. I began drawing that day at around 8:30 and only broke for coffee. A storm rolled in that afternoon. About 4:30 lightning struck somewhere and off went the power and so did over 8 hours worth of ball busting busy work. Dad comes downstairs ready to go home and sees me sitting there staring at a blank computer screen. He was already out of sorts over me telling him I needed to work downstairs. He also disliked the fact that since my work was on a computer he could not see what I had been drawing on. Back then it took over 30 minutes to print a drawing that big so I wasn't going to waste the time. He always hated that about computers. Without thinking I explained that I had lost all my work and that I couldn't draw until the power came back on. He smiled at me, told me he needed that drawing tomorrow and walked out the door. Just before he got to the door I heard him say "No damn good". It didn't help when Ted came downstairs and I got to explain it to him. He volunteered to spend the night drawing with me if I needed him too. Ted and I had spent many nights drawing until dawn. He knew computers were coming after him but I don't think he cared. If you are looking at a drawing just as an art form I have to admit that I have never come close to touching Ted's work. When Tai and Henry took Ms. Wilson up to St. Louis it took two secretaries to replace her. One of the secretaries was supposed to be an office manger. Susan who later became my second wife complained that Tai kept referring to her as a secretary. I mentioned that to Dad one day. He said "Boy, what exactly is an office manager?" He always called me 'boy' when he was mad or trying to make a point. I explained that an office manager ran the office. This person set and enforced office policy, dealt with employees, kept the books, stayed on top of expenses, paid the bills, etc. He thought about it a second and then said "That's what Henry and I do. I don't need a secretary to tell me how to run my own office." I tried to explain that the office manger would allow him to concentrate on the practice of architecture and that it did not make sense to pay him or Henry to do those kinds of things. Trying very hard not to tell me I was stupid he responded by telling me that if he and Henry did not manage the office that things would fall apart. He asked me "Do you think that this secretary cares as much about my money as I do? Do you think she knows as much about running an architectural firm as I do?" And then came one of his favorite things to say "Boy, if you don't care then nobody else will." We ended the conversation with me asking him to humor me and refer to her as the office manager. He did as I asked but told me I had a lot to learn. One of the things that Susan (wife and office manager) worked on for some time was putting together our Office Policy Manual. At the end of the manual it had a place where each employee had to sign acknowledging that they had received, reviewed and accepted the policy. Dad comes into my space and plops the manual down on my desk and asked me what it the hell was he looking at. I explained it was our office policy manual. "What in the hell is office policy?" "Well Dad, it explains things, it tells people what the office expects of them." "You telling me this book is telling me how to run my own office." "Its supposed to explain things and answers any question that an employee might have. You need to sign it so that everyone knows that you agree with its content." "Boy, let me explain something to you, if you have a question all you have to do is ask me and I'll give you an answer! If you can't ask me then a G. Damn book isn't going to help you." "Dad, people have plenty of questions and this addresses them." "Such As?" "Well, it talks about sick leave, talks about bonuses, lays out the holidays, addresses vacations, what to do if you have a complaint.....Things like that." "How long has our office manager worked on this boy?" "I think it's been about a month. Susan collected several model office policies and modified them to suit our office." Tai shook his head unable to believe what he was hearing...."Look, I give you office policy right now in 5 minutes." And this is how it went. "Holidays: Everyday is a holiday, if you don't feel that way then you need to get a new job. You do your work, if we have time, you can have time off for holidays, if we are behind on our work then you work. Vacations: Two weeks/year after the first year. Never more than one week at a time. You want to go somewhere, you go. If you go too much, don't come back. Sick Leave: If you're too sick to work, stay at home. If not too sick, then work. If you're sick too much, you're fired. If you think I'm going to pay someone for not getting sick then you are crazy. Bonus, if we make money you get money for Christmas. If I have a problem with your work I'm going to fire you." Then comes another one of his favorite things to say. "One thing about people, you can't change people. If you're a looser, you're a looser. Raises: Henry and I will decide if you get a raise. If you don't think we're paying you enough then go get another job. Boy, that's your office policy." Before Dad died, he admitted to one of his friends that he knew that I was right when it came to computers. He didn't like computers but knew I would need them to keep up. When Tai passed away everyone in the office had a computer except for him, Henry and one person that had joined them in the early 1960's. Ted had already passed away. Tai never understood thing like office policy. He didn't like contracts. He used contracts for state work and public work because we had too. His other contracts were letters. We never charged for things like printing, telephone bills or office supplies. If it was a long trip he would sometimes charge for mileage. Whenever we took a client out he paid for the meal. When it was just he and I eating, we ate at McDonalds. If we were charging for a trip we stayed in the least expensive motel we could find that wasn't dangerous. Only people in the trade would know what specifications are. Tai never used the computer programs for specs. A spec is a written document that goes along with drawings. It lists for example: what kind of window is allowed, what manufacturers are allowed and things like that. Dad would sit down with a copy of his last specification for a similar project, a pen, pair of scissors and tape. He would read the spec from front to back, make notes, cut and paste and hand write the rest. Trust me, one page of his specs said more than any 20 pages off of a computer program. After that he would give it to Ms. Wilson who would type it from beginning to end. She used an electric typewriter and didn't have to look. His firm from 56 to 93 was only sued one time. It was by the insurance company of one of his clients. The case was dismissed because the client testified in favor of the firm against his own insurance company. When did hand shakes stop having meaning? My Father gave me the insight to see that technology is not always a good thing. It may sound like I am talking about someone who ran a little practice in a little no name town. He was more than that. Tai was appointed to the NC Board of Architecture and the NC American Institute of Architects where he served as chairman over both boards. He helped write the national exam for architects. He was appointed to so many other boards I won't mention them. When he passed away his death was covered by every major newspaper in the state. Tai is like the coming and going of technology. I cannot tell you how much of what I found in my father is what I find lacking for the future. His greatest quality is something that I want to share with you. I'm hoping it will help you as much as it helped him. Tai knew how to listen. He could sit in a room of 20 people and not say a word. He didn't speak because he was listening not only to the people in the room but also and most importantly to his little voice. How many times have you ignored your little voice? When you think about it, that little voice is almost always right. It's your intuition. It is one of god's gifts to you. It helps you know what to do and how to deal with all the things that come up in life. I believe that computer technology is an attempt to create intuition. It's all about the data. I need more data to make an informed decision. My Father was all about his intuition. My bother who also graduated from Ga. Tech just like myself and my father before me is all about the data. He is totally committed to collecting, providing and selling the data. He is very successful and my father was very proud of him. One time my mom wanted a dog. We felt it was important for her to have one because Dad was gone and she was alone. My brother agreed and said he'd take care of it. Mom wanted a Scottie. After several weeks she called my brother and asked about her Scottie. He told her that he had been gathering information on dogs and was sorry to inform her that Scotties did not even make it into the top ten. So she asked: 'Well tell me then Michael, what did I decide to get?" "Why A Westie Terrier" was the answer. Buzz, the Westie turned out to be the best thing that could have happened for mom so there you go. Me, well I'm like the 8 track tape player. I seem to be caught in the middle waiting on the next big thing to come along. Sometimes I think I've picked up so much data that I am so overloaded that I can't make a decision. Are we making better decisions? Are we really quicker? It is one thing to give up my slide rule for a calculator, or to give up my ability to spell and make sentences but its altogether different to loose my ability to make intuitive decisions that up until now has lead me through life. Don't get me wrong, I am probably more dependant on this technology than most of you because of what I do. I often look back and miss my father, I work very hard to be a loyal to the people I work with and I try as best I can to listen to my little voice. The last thing my Father used to love to say was that I needed to follow my dreams no matter what. In 1998 I was mugged by a gag, beaten up with baseball bats and thrown off of a 24' bridge. The next day I was suppose to die. Over the next few months my little voice and I did a lot of talking to each other.

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Travel Time in an RV to San Antonio

First of all if you want to visit San Antonio in an RV there is only one place to go and that is Travelers World. We did a lot of research on the matter and if you RV you know there are some real losers out there. Well this is a winner.

Using the Buster Rating System this place get high marks. Out of a possible 10 Goobers it comes in with 8.5.



You need to have this place locked in with your GPS because the entrance is easy to miss. The Travelers World Sign is small and Registration Building blends in with the other buildings along the road that we drove by it the first time.



The Registration Building has a small store with the basics. Its no Camping World Store but it has as much as most KOA's.



But here is where it gets good! Behind those gates is paradise. The roads are paved and nice and wide with generous turns. There is a game room and fitness center attached to the registration building and you'll find a sign up sheet for golf every Wednesday and four great guys who set up the pairings. Thursday night is poker night. There is a pot luck night. The city of San Antonio is in the process of completely a walking trail than runs right past the park. There is a swimming pool, huge laundry, showers and the place is very pet friendly.

The manager lives on site in a mobile home and if you can slow him down, he's as easy to work with as anyone you'll meet.

The park is only several minutes from downtown. in the other direction is Walmart, restaurants and an enterprise car rental. They'll gladly deliver a car to you and you can drop it off on your way out of town.

San Antonio is a wonderful town and is worth 4-5 days. The River walk is much larger than most expect as it snakes throughout the entire city. Most don't know that San Antonio is the second largest city in TX. Its close to Houston and Galveston/coast. The Alamo is of course the mission everyone knows, but less than a mile in the other direction is another mission that I thought was more impressive. When the pathway is completed, you'll be able to walk from the park to the mission but you'll need to be in shape. for most its the car. Next to the park are two golf courses.

The sites are gravel, with a slab/picnic table on the side. Along with water, power and sewer there is cable.

One of the reasons it gets such high marks is a reason it took a hit in the rating system: In other words, the great news is that its closer to downtown than any other park. That's the bad news too. The park gets high marks for security but once you leave the safe confines of the property headed for downtown; stopping along the way to ask directions is not an option. If you take the direct route you can get some tattoos and work on your extreme cage fighting skills. There is a much safer route that takes about 20 minutes to downtown. We took the direct route every time. There is a trolley stop across from the park if you want to ride into the city. We were there for the Xmas parade and there wasn't a parking place within 20 minutes of downtown so you might want to consider the trolley.

Great trip. We also were in Vicksburg, the Trace, Galveston, Gulf port and Orange Beach. If you need any help with these places just let us know. By the way, on your way to Galveston, take the coastal road coming from the east. The ferry takes RV's.