awkward moments

Adventures In Golf

 

So I’m that guy, watching as the best golf shot he ever hits, gets pulled by the wind and sails towards a new house.

 

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So I’ve never claimed to be good at golf. The last time I played was over 10 years ago. I like golf, but I work, and I don’t have the time to dedicate to get really good at it. This week I had the chance to go golfing with a church youth group of 14-17 year old boys at a small golf course.

The first hole had gone well and after my first shot on the second hole, I was about 150 yards out from the green. I pulled out my seven iron, not because I knew how far a seven iron would take the ball, but because it seemed like a reasonable choice. I lined up with the ball and took a solid swing.

There were three 15 year old boys with me to make up my foursome. They stood around me in awe at the solid hit that went high into the air and straight towards the green. For an instant I was very proud of my shot. To my untrained eye it looked perfect. Unfortunately, I either hit it too hard or the wind propelled it more than I had planned and we watched at it sailed directly toward a house about 30 yards behind the green.

At this point there was no way to take back the shot. I could only watch and hope for the best. Because of the trees around the house, we could not see very well, but even at 150 yards we could clearly hear the ball hit the house with a thud. About 2 seconds later, the thud was followed by the sound of glass crashing down on to the deck behind the house.

I stood there stunned for a moment, and the boys with me did not move either. The sound clearly indicated to us what had happened, but I for one, was not immediately able to accept that I had just done that. Yes, I am “That Guy.”

I am somewhat embarrassed to say, that for a moment it seemed like there were a couple of options for how to handle the situation. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the only real option was to show the boys an example, by taking responsibility for what I had done, and making it right.

As I walked toward the house, I was angry. I was angry at myself for hitting the shot and not being able to control where it landed. I was angry that someone thought it was a good idea to put a house 100 feet directly behind a golf green. I knocked on the door and no one answered. I decided to take care of the situation after we had finished our game.

The rest of the game was not very fun. There were many houses along the course, and the boys and I were careful not to have the same thing happen again. When we finished the game I went into the clubhouse and let them know about the window I had hit and gave them my phone number. I also left a note on the door of the house that I had hit. I was relieved as I spoke with my insurance company, to find out that my homeowner’s policy has “Stupid Idiot” coverage (liability), and that it would take care of the expenses associated with replacing the window.

Here is the moral of the story. We all know that around the country, every day there are thousands of windows broken by golfers. I would venture to say that there is a small percentage of those golfers that admit to and take responsibility for the damage done. I am sure that I could have walked away from that hole and played the rest of the day and no one would have known that I had done the damage to the window. But I would have known, and the boys with me would have known. I hope that my example to the boys helps them to choose to be honest and accept responsibility even when they know the consequences will be difficult to deal with.

I’m pretty sure it will be another 10 years before I decide to play golf again.

Kendall is a boy name

So I’m that guy who woke up to his phone ringing at two in the morning, only to be told he was a girl.

Hello my name is

(Disclaimer, this is intended to be a humorous rant on names.)

Growing up, I didn’t know many people with my name, but I did know some, and they were all boys. As I got into my late teens, I realized that there were also girls named Kendall, but it was a rare occurrence for me to hear this and I was not overly concerned. Now I am afraid that the name has almost completely been taken over by the opposite sex. In 1906 the name was 100% male. In the early 80’s, when I was born, it was still mostly a boy name. But by 2012 it was 86% female. I found it interesting, that a Google search for “girl names that became boy names” yielded absolutely no results. This is a phenomena that affects males exclusively.

I am troubled by this, as I am sure many other men are. Just think about all the Lynns, Quinns, Shirleys, Ashleys, Shannons, Stacys, Taylors, and Whitneys to name a few. They are stranded in a world where their names were once proud and masculine, only to hear kids snickering when they perceive that they have girl names.

A few years ago I was woken up at 2 a.m. by my phone ringing. I tried to ignore the call, but the caller was persistent. I answered the phone and a woman asked, “Is Kendall there?” I said, “This is Kendall.” She says, “No this isn’t; Kendall is a girl name.”

Still partially awake, I was hurt and offended and when she tried to end the call I said, “You can’t just wake me up and call me a girl without an explanation of why.”

She proceeded to tell me that she had found a note in her husband’s pants pocket with my name and number. Assuming I was a girl and fearing the worst, she decided to call the number at 2 in the morning to catch the person off guard and find out if there was something going on. It turns out her husband is a contractor I had spoken with earlier that day about a job I needed done.

This woman’s trust issues, or her husband’s lack of trustworthiness, vividly illustrate the confusion that is being created in the world because of the name migration. Some women think it is cute to name a baby girl with a name that is not commonly used for girls, and I have to agree that sometimes it is cute. But at what cost for all the boys that carry that name? Is it fair to take a name and change it to fit your purposes? Just think of all the Leslies out there that have no choice but to be Les. (Pun intended.)

I guess my hope is that before you choose that name that is not traditionally used for a particular gender, you think of the effects on society. What name will be next? Maybe it’s David, Michael, or even George that will be the next to cross the line. No name is off limits apparently. And although this is written mostly tongue in cheek, I have been affected by the blatant takeovers of male baby names.

What’s your opinion? Agree or disagree, please comment and put in your two cents on this issue.

 

Awkward Infertile Moment

So I’m that guy, standing at the front desk of a women’s clinic with his sperm sample in outstretched hand trying to explain why he really is in the right place.

specimen cup

 

I believe that people struggling with infertility are some of the most mistreated people in our society. When stricken with the ailment, through no fault of their own, they somehow lose all rights to privacy and dignity. We have what is called secondary infertility. We were able to have a biological daughter, but following a miscarriage we were unable to get pregnant again

When my wife and I were first diagnosed as “possibly infertile,” she was put through a battery of invasive, painful procedures that according to the doctors had very little chance of having any positive result. To add insult to injury, the cost of the procedures was very high as our insurance would not cover any of these procedures.

This is what I like to call “The Infertility Rollercoaster.” We would save our money for a few months for new treatments. We would go to the new doctor that we were referred to after the last one concluded that we needed a more specialized physician. We would be given hope in the procedure and the steps they told us they were going through in order for this to be a successful attempt. My wife would get the shots and pills for the preparation for ovulation. Then we would go in for an IUI (Intrauterine Insemination), and the waiting game began. Two weeks later, we could not stand the suspense anymore so we would purchase a pregnancy test. Every test was a crushing reminder of our powerlessness in the situation, but we gathered ourselves back up and rode that rollercoaster several times.

So on one such occasion, we were finally at the day to perform an IUI. We had to go to a clinic in a town about 30 minutes from our home, so time was of the essence. We collected my “sample” at home and hit the road. We were told that it would be best to hold the sample under my armpit until we reached the clinic in order to keep it warm and alive until they were able to process it and to get it to them as soon as possible, so when we arrived at the clinic we knew time was running out.

I got out of the car, with the sample under my arm and walked into the lobby of the Women’s clinic. For some reason, I had been nervously anticipating this exact moment for weeks now. At the front desk there were three receptionists watching me as I entered the front door. I went to the desk and reached out my hand with the cup that contained my still warm sample. The looks on their faces were not encouraging. One woman said to me,” You must me in the wrong place.”

Those were not the words I had hoped to hear at that moment. I asked if this was the clinic we were scheduled to have our procedure in. The ah-ha moment came as one of the receptionists explained that their company actually had two clinics, and that the one we were looking for was on the other side of town, about 15 minutes away.

I got back in the car with my wife and as we drove to the other clinic we could not help but laugh the whole way there as we thought about the ridiculousness of the whole situation we were experiencing. Sometimes, the only way to make these things bearable is to laugh.

Long story short, that IUI, with the shots and visits leading up to it, cost us about $800 plus the negative pregnancy test that we had a few weeks later. That was a dark period in our lives. Thankfully, we had a beautiful 4 year old daughter to soften the blows that came with each failed attempt at growing our family.

Looking back and knowing that the difficult, humiliating, invasive, painful experiences we had with infertility, pushed us towards adopting 3 more amazing children, I would do it all over again. It helped us open our hearts to adoption and prepared us for the challenges we would face throughout the adoption process.