"You can make new memories; good ones. Good memories can save your life."

"There is no security in this life. There is only opportunity." - Douglas MacArthur

I seem to have the worst luck with lawn mowers. Or maybe I use them so infrequently that I'm too rough on them. Since we've lived in this house, I have destroyed three lawn mowers. That's the equivalent of one per year. Granted, they weren't new mowers. The first one we had already owned for over ten years. The last two were reconditioned by a friend of my father. This latest mower didn't even make it through the entire lawn one time. It's a shame. It was a really nice mower, self-propelled, mulching; the whole works. My lawn isn't big enough for a riding mower and the grass is mostly centipede, so it doesn't even grow that fast in the summer, especially as dry as it's been, so I rely on a normal push mower and can't justify spending hundreds of dollars on a new one. A few years ago, we paid a local teen to cut it for us, but we haven't seen him out cutting this summer, so about a month ago, I went out and destroyed that third lawn mower about two-thirds of the way through the yard. It did not go quietly. It sounded like it exploded and then oil shot out everywhere. I figured it was definitely not a good sign.

I've gotten away without mowing since then because the part I didn't get to before the noisy death of the mower was a patch between some bushes out back. I don't really have a good weed whacker that works either, so once it started raining last week, the weeds really shot up along the fence out back. Seriously, these things were about eight feet tall along a fifteen foot stretch of fence in the back yard. After the mower blew I had hand-picked all the weeds along the areas I had already mowed. This stretch didn't get that treatment because I hadn't mowed that area yet.

When they built our house, there was a vacant lot behind it, but last year, when they built a house in that lot and graded it, they didn't put in any sort of drainage. They sloped the new lot towards ours. Now, when it does rain, that one area I didn't get to cut, goes underwater. Apparently, the vegetation that grows there likes these conditions... a lot.

Since my parents found out I resigned from my job, I had spoken to my dad a few times, but only on the phone, and never to my mother. Both of my parents are home on Saturdays, so I called my father and asked him if I could borrow his electric trimmer. He told me to come over and get it, so I took all of our trash and recyclables to the recycling center and then went to my parents' house for the first time since they found out what I was doing. I told my wife I was going on a U.N. peace-keeping mission.

When I arrived, my dad had the trimmer on the screened porch, which doubles as their living room in the summer. He offered me a bottle of his latest beverage discovery, Stewart's Orange Cream Soda. I accepted and sat down. My mom was nowhere in sight. We started talking about my resignation and decision to change careers. About fifteen minutes later, my mom came out of hiding. She had been in the house somewhere. I continued explaining the events of the past month or so and they listened and occasionally asked questions.

Have you ever found that sometimes the only thing that keeps you from writing off family members as being just as judgemental and distrusting as the people that disgust you in the rest of the world is just the fact that they are indeed family members? Growing up, whenever I was picked on, or beat up, my parents blamed me for anything that happened to me. If a bully stole my lunch money or something, my parents assumed that I provoked him somehow.

"You are insignificant. You, are a coward. You, are a great disappointment to your mother and I!" - Dave, The Punisher

One night when I was about fourteen, I was riding my bike around the neighborhood one summer night. None of my friends were around and I was bored, so I rode up to the plaza at the entrance to the neighborhood and saw some kids I knew vaguely. They lived in the neighborhood, but I didn't hang around with them. I just saw them at the pool sometimes. I had badly hurt one of them in a horrible accident a few years previously (that is a story for another time), but it had been an unavoidable thing and there were no hard feelings. We were talking near the laundromat when I noticed these two taking furtive glances around. I soon saw that a car had pulled to a stop behind a cluster of trees next to the laundromat and when they saw this, they jumped on their bikes and took off in a hurry. Not knowing what was going on, I was a little slower to get moving, and I think I may have called out and asked them where they were going in such a hurry. I had no idea that these two had joined a gang. Further, I had no idea that the people in the car were members of a rival gang. I also had no clue that these guys assumed that I was their enemy just because they had seen me talking to these other two guys. I also didn't see the second car behind me.

When I realized that things were about to go horribly wrong, I jumped on my bike and started pedaling as hard as I could. The easy route into the neighborhood was blocked by that car, so I headed across a vacant lot to the other driveway. That was when both cars started chasing me, along with several guys that had already gotten out of the two cars who were chasing me on foot. They caught up with me about halfway across the vacant lot, which was about a city block in width.

On the other side of this lot, I could see the lights of the "Handi-Mart" convenience store going out. The two cars were trying to block my way across the lot without hitting the guys who were chasing me on foot. When the crowd caught up with me, I tried fighting them off while still riding. I actually managed to take one down with the handlebars when they stopped my forward progress and the cars opened their doors. There were knives. There were more than a dozen guys surrounding me. They were ordering me to get off the bicycle. I was looking for help, pretty sure that my life was about to end. I looked back at the convenience store and noticed that the workers were leaving the store and were in the parking lot. I started screaming my head off right about the time I started getting pummelled by fists.

The next thing I remember is looking up at one of the workers from the store. His name was Bob. I knew that. The lights were bright and I was in the store. I remember asking if they got my bike. It was an expensive BMX bike. I actually raced at a local track when I was younger. I didn't want that bike stolen. He assured me that it was outside in the trunk of his car. When he heard me screaming and saw what was happening, he drove his car into the lot as fast as he could and told them he had already called the police from inside the store. Those that hadn't scattered at his approach in the speeding car dispersed then. I realized that I was only seeing out of one eye. The other one was already swollen shut. My nose was bleeding quite a bit. I had hemorrhages as a child and had several surgeries on my nose already. When it bleeds, it bleeds a lot. My lips were swollen and my face felt like it was on fire, but I was safe. Bob had gotten there before weapons were used. He called my parents and drove me home.

When I arrived at home, my mother was horrified at my condition. My parents took care of me, but they also grilled me on what I did to provoke such a vicious attack. Some of these guys that beat me were in their twenties, while some looked about twelve. I learned that they called themselves "The Marsh Gang." Some of them had already done jail time. My parents were still sure that somehow I had done something to deserve it.

I love them. They're my parents. They brought me into this world. They cared for me when I was helpless. They bought me things and tried to make sure that I had a better life growing up than they did (their idea of love is still buying me things or spending money they don't have). They did the best they knew how. I don't blame them.

As I navigated the conversation on Saturday afternoon, it became apparent that my mom even believed some of the rumors that I had heard. My dad was more trusting, but not by much. I once again explained all of my reasoning and rationale for my resignation to the best of my ability. I wish I knew I that could count on my parents to defend me when my critics were denouncing me. They told me that they hadn't slept well since they found out I quit. My mom had to go home from work after she found out and a co-worker bought her a bouquet of flowers. I stayed as calm and patient as possible. Things are now settled. They are still worried about me, but they know now that I wasn't fired or forced to resign.

"I'm not the bad guy." - Daredevil

The trimmer worked well on the weeds, but I felt like a greedy land owner chopping down the rain forest to build cheap housing. Now I need to find a mower that works.

Today, my wife and I accepted my parents' invitation to eat dinner with them at their house. In the fifteen years since we've been married, my parents haven't spent more than a few minutes at our house. If I want to see them, I have to go to their house or meet them someplace near their house, since even before they lost their ability and willingness to drive, they refused to leave about a five mile radius around their house unless they absolutely had to. My mom has hated riding in a car ever since her stroke in 1999. They deny that they don't like going to our house. They claim we never invite them anymore, but when we did, they always found excuses not to come or not to stay. My mom sits on our furniture like it's made of glass.

The good news is that the dinner went well. We stayed for a few hours and all four of us got along about as well as possible. I really do love my parents. I gave up trying to change them years ago. I just accept them, warts and all. I know there are things that I do that drive them crazy; like resign from my job.

After I got home from my parents' house, the former student who will be serving as band captain this year stopped by to pick up some CD's and sheet music that she needed for marching band. She got home from Australia this afternoon and texted me this afternoon after her mom told her I had resigned. She told me that my happiness was the most important thing. She said that she had envisioned her remaining two years of high school with me as her band director and this was going to cause her to have to leave her comfort zone. She thought that leaving her comfort zone will be good for her. It will make her a stronger person. She said that "Band director" was only a title ("People are not their titles" is something I always taught in my leadership seminars) and that I was still the same person. She trusts me and knows that the rumors aren't true. We had a good conversation when I brought the CD's and music out to the driveway.

“I really do think that any deep crisis is an opportunity to make your life extraordinary in some way.” – Martha Beck

Her response, once again, is an example of how mature these teenagers can be. It shows what they are truly capable of. All three of the former students that have come to this mature level of acceptance this quickly have been through several of my leadership seminars (6 days, 2 hours a day). This is a girl who has had an extremely rough life. A little over a year ago she was a broken person in an abusive relationship. There is a history of abuse from males in her family. Due to the abuse (sexual, physical, emotional), she was cutting herself for over a year and has a history of eating disorders. She is now one of the best leaders I have ever trained and one of the most mature and caring teenagers I have ever met. She has broken the pattern of abusive relationships and hasn't cut herself in quite some time. She credits me, and one of my former staff members, with this turnaround, but she found the strength from within. She is going to be fine, and she is right, she is definitely going to grow from this. So am I.

"You can do anything if you're not afraid." - Jack Murdoch, Daredevil

I am still working on the query. The research for this article has been quite a bit more difficult than I thought it would be, but I know that most writers say the same thing. I hope to get it finished tomorrow and continue the job search. The final award I have to give out is going to have to wait one more day. I haven't done much today, but I am still exhausted.

"Fear not for the future, weep not for the past." - Percy Bysshe Shelley