Remember Who You Are and What You Represent

Happy Birthday, Big Brother!

2011-06-30T13:14:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow is my big brother’s birthday. Now considering that I am 6’4” and 290 lbs, you may look at Steve and question that “big brother” status. However, anyone who knows Steve understands completely. Every since we were kids, I’ve been following him around like a puppy. He’s someone that I look up to in every way, whether it’s his business acumen, unique way of looking at the world, devotion to family, or just the fact that we will often start laughing at the same thing before anyone else in the room because his sense of humor has rubbed off on me during our childhood years.

When we were kids, I would hang around and follow he and his friends around all the time. If he minded, he never let me know. He always stuck up for me if anyone picked on me and was just a hero to me in so many ways. He was an athlete, popular with his friends, always joking and laughing, and really charismatic with most everyone that he met. I watched everything he did, and to this day, I still emulate some of the ways that I saw him make people laugh.

I still remember the day Steve left for Auburn. I was a little panicked, and the house seemed awfully lonely and empty without his jokes and laughter. I tried to pick up the slack where I could. When he graduated and started working as a broker, I had no doubt he would be successful. His professional success is only overshadowed by his success as a husband and a father. He has raised three absolutely wonderful daughters that make all of us proud ever single day. I see that he and Marian share a special relationship that is centered in a strong faith and the ability to make each other laugh. I’ve met several of Steve’s close friends and people with whom he does business, and its obvious that they have absolute faith and confidence in Steve in every capacity. I know that he is an active and respected member of the Birmingham community, and I couldn’t be prouder of all that he has accomplished.

So to recap….. He looks like Bill Murray…. plays tennis like Borg (still remember the racquets he used to use with Borg on them…thought they were so cool)……plays golf like Furyk (swing is a little unconventional…but it works)…. laughs on roller coasters (starts when he stands in line and gets worse all the way until the ride is over)…. is a master fisherman (freshwater, saltwater, fly, you name it…) …. cooks like Emeril (never tasted steaks as good as his…anywhere) …. And loves his friends and family with a passion that is truly amazing. I love you, bud. Miss you guys, and look forward to our next visit. Happy Birthday, Big Brother!

The Parkers at War....

2011-06-08T23:24:00.001-05:00

Our family has a rich history... So proud of their service to our country... I've posted some pictures but I didn't have pictures of all .... Another great story from Dad...

"I got to tellin' 'em the other day. Jean called Betty the other day and said "Betty... Stan needs to write those stories down! We've all forgot em". Betty came to me after Jean hung up and said, "I've got you figured out... None of the rest of 'em know anything, and you tell part of it and make up part of it. You can tell anything you want to tell and they don't know the difference." But I do, Rob, its amazing. I guess its a gift that the Good Lord gave me. I remember when Pearl Harbor.... I was six years old when Pearl Harbor was bombed... I remember that just as well... I remember when World War II ended... I remember all of the things that went on.. I can just recall and remember it...

See World War I had ended in the early 20s. When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, everybody knew what was gonna happen. See the United States was already kindly in the War. They were helping Britain. If the United States hadn't helped Britain, Germany would have won. They would have ruled Britain like they took over France, but the British fought em. American kindly got to helpin them. Eventually they got into war with Germany. But when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, Roosevelt immediately declared War.

See, all the neighbors would get together at Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Fourth of July... make homemade ice cream and play Rook and pop popcorn and parts peanuts. See everybody raised their own popcorn and peanuts you know. You'd just make popcorn balls and everybody would just get together... And I remember how all the adults were so upset, cause they knew that their sons were going to War and they also know that alot of them were never coming back. Man they were upset. The men were sittin around talkin and shakin their heads and the women, many of them were cryin. They knew exactly what was going to happen. Well, immediately Bill and Cliff was drafted into the Army. Daddy 'n 'em managed to keep C.B. out to help farm. Daddy had a bunch of young kids... all the way to Carl. I mean a bunch, and C.B. got deferred. Me and C.B. is the only two that didn't serve in the Military. I was just 6 years old when the war started.

I had got hurt playin' football. When the Korean War started, Dan was in the army then. I was a senior in High School when it all started. When I got to be 18 years old they were going to send me to get examined cause the Draft was still active. Well, I had got hurt playin' football, and I was still under the care of Dr. Price Irvin. He was the team physician. I guess I had tore some ligaments or somethin. I had water on my knee. It was puffed up somethin awful. I couldnt hardly get my pants on and off. So I went to him. Course, I had tried to play baseball too and had aggravated it. He had seen the list of the boys that was goin off to be examined. He said, "Son, you don't need to go to Montgomery to be examined. Thats a waste of time! They'll get on you and ask you what in the world you are doin down there. You take this note right here and go give it to Ms. Helen Royer." Ms. Helen Royer was over the draft board. A bunch of guys was going next week, so I took it down there. She told me to pull my pants leg up. Well, I couldn't pull my pants leg up. I had those peg leg pants you know. So I had to drop my pants down...nothin on but my drawers. Embarrassed the heck out of me. She said, "I ain't sendin you. We'll catch you next time. A week before you're supposed to go when you get your next notice, you come up here again." So the next time I went up there, I told Betty, I wore big legged britches so I could lift up my pant leg and wouldn't have to drop my pants. When I went back, I didn't have as much fluid on my knee. She said, "I'm not going to send you. I'm going to reclassify you. We'll catch you later, but you're gonna have to go." I said, "That's fine! I want to go! The only reason I'm up here is cuz Dr. Price sent me here." So, by the time that that changed my draft status back to 1A, they abolished the draft and it was strictly volunteer. I never did go to Montgomery to be examined.

All six of my brothers served. Carl was in the National Guard, and he went to Basic Training. Nat's unit was activated. He served six months and was in the National Guard during the Korean Conflict. Nat's been to the Korea twice with the Guard. Dan served in the Korean Conflict. His unit was activated and going to Korea. Dan had an emergency appendectomy and they didn't send him. Travis served during the Vietnam Conflict. He was in Vietnam a number of times. Cliff was in World War II. He was in Europe.

Bill was in World War II in the Philippines. Bill went through the roughest of any of them. He was in the invasion of Okinawa and Saipan. He went to Iwo Jima. He was in the invasion Leyte, Tinian, all those Phillipine Islands. Bill is lucky that he made it back. Bill went through a living hell, man. When he first come back from the Army....that was in '45, I was 10 years old... I wanted to know. We all wanted to know. Bill wouldn't talk about it. Bill'd say, "I don't want to talk about it and you don't wanna know..." And that would be the extent of it.

Two years before he died, when Momma was in the nursing home, he'd usually ride to Florence with me. He knew that I watched the History Channel and that Patton was my favorite movie and that I had read books about Omar Bradley and George Marshall and MacArthur. He knew I was interested in that... He started talking to me about a lot of things. He told me alot of stories. Since, I have shared them with Billy and Betty. But he didn't talk to Mattie Dee about 'em. He didn't talk to nobody about it. He'd talk to me though. Me and him had a special relationship. He'd tell me those stories....some of the most amazing things I've ever heard in my life. He is lucky he made it back.

Now Cliff didn't have it too rough. Cliff didn't have to go right off, because they sent him to California. He went and took some special training to be in the Military Police. That's what they wanted him to be. When Cliff got to Europe, they come around wantin' volunteers to be Cooks. Cliff volunteered. He liked to cook and he was a Cook. That's what Ab was, part of the time. Ab told me and Betty that one of his responsibilities was to take hot food to the Front Lines for the troops. Most of the time all they had was K rations and stuff you open up and take out of a can. So Ab's responsibility along with a couple of other guys was to load that food up on a jeep and the Germans would try to kill them. Cause if they could blow that jeep up with that food on it, that made it rough for those troops. Ab told me that there was many times that he didnt think they were going to make it. They'd get it through though. Ol' Ab can cook, son. Let me tell you, he can make rolls.....what'chu talkin about. Now Cliff used to .... I never could get it down pat, but....Cliff used to fix a soup that he called "Army Soup". What it was was green split pea soup with potatoes in it and seasoned.... Aw man.... You talk about good... But, I'm gonna ask Ab next time I go if he remember the recipe. Cliff when he would come back, man. He'd fix up a pot of that stuff... You eat that would cornbread... What are you talking about... Man it was good ..

I'd seen Momma get real scared... See, the Courtland Airbase was really active. They were training pilots. And then the Redstone Arsenal was over here as well. And you'd see alot of those big ol black cars... See all of the roads wasn't paved. You would see a car coming by and you'd see dust just fogging behind. And, I've watched Momma a many a times standing in the cotton field. We'd see that black car coming down that road, when we lived at the Walker place.. And you could see the fear in her eyes. And the car never turned to our house.. It would just keep going. Those people was going to tell somebody that their son or their husband was missing or killed in action...

You know when I broke my kneecap, Dr. Prickett pulled two big ol syringes of fluid off my knee. If they had been able to do that back then, I would have gone into the Military during the draft. That was all that was wrong with me.

Now Mr. Campbell didn't go in til near the end of the war. They sent him to Japan. He helped recover after the atomic bombs were dropped.. That may have contributed to his early death. He may have had some radiation, who knows...

Lot of history in both sides of our family."

Mr. Campbell....

2011-06-08T22:48:00.001-05:00

One of my greatest regrets is not knowing either of my Grandfathers. I know them both through the stories of my parents and siblings, though. This is a story that my Dad told about my Mom's father...

"You'd have really liked Mr. Campbell. He was alwas kiddin'. I fished with him and enjoyed being around him. He was one of my favorite people. He didn't live many years after Betty and I was married. Hah! Mr. Campbell was a pistol ball.... Lord, I used to laugh at 'im. He'd aggravate Steve.... Steve wore... Betty's got pictures of him... he wore short pants and boots that come up to here.... Mr. Campbell would aggravate him, and Steve would take those boots and kick him on the shin... I'd see his face, but Steve would kick 'im and hit 'im and he'd just laugh and keep on and on. He was a neat guy.... I just thought the world of him.

I may have already told you this, but Mrs. Campbell didn't want him to trade cars. He got to wantin' a new car. He called me and asked me, "Reckon I could trade here in Decatur?" I said, "Mr. Campbell I don't know but... "....he wanted an Oldsmobile..."I know one of the guys that's a salesman out there. I grew up with him" Bobby Hamilton was his name. "Next time you come up here, we'll go out there, and you can talk to him." Well we went out there, and Mr. Campbell drove it. I could tell, boy, he was just on Cloud 9, and he wanted that car. So I told Bobby, "I would love to have the car Mr. Campbell is tradin' in"...cause man, I knew it was a good un, and me and Betty needed another car..."If we can work out a deal, that'd be great... But now I want Mr. Campbell to be happy. After we trade, I want to buy that car." He said, "Well we'll work something out.. We'll trade with him and then we'll sell it to you at wholesale." I said, "Ok, if that's OK with Mr. Campbell." Well, that suited Mr. Campbell fine. It was a two tone Chevrolet...man, just a fine care.. It didnt have many miles... So, Mr. Campbell, he traded.

Comin' on home, he knew when we got home that Nora Belle wasn't goin' to be happy... He said, "Now Stan, you're gonna have to help me with Nora Belle. She's gonna be mad..." And she was. "Tom, we didn't need no car!" I just bragged on the car, but she didn't want it...

He loved Betty and Sue ... Me and him would fish. I had a boat, and I'd take him and Mrs. Campbell both... As luck would have it, Mrs. Campbell caught more fish than he did... He said, "Nora Belle, you ain't goin no more.... " Well that just tickled Mrs. Campbell to death. Yeah, l hate that you didn't get to know him."

Figurin' and Rurned Meat....

2011-06-08T22:27:00.001-05:00

This is the kind of story that Dad just reels off... Love it...

"Daddy never had a sharecropper. He had a bunch of people moved on our place. The kind of people he got didn't want to sharecrop. All they wanted to do was to be laborers. If they worked all day, Daddy would pay em for a laborer all day or if they picked cotton they would get so much a pound. I had to keep up with all that. That was one of my jobs. Daddy was not good with figures. I kept up with that. I knew how much they owed us and how much cotton they picked. I did all the accounting. I helped Daddy.

See, Bill, Cliff, Dan, and CB all at once they got jobs at Wolverine. Wolverine at that time was the best place around here to work. And they worked all the overtime they wanted. It was a pretty good job....And all 4 of 'em got jobs one after the other. And Travis, my brother that was older than me, was goin' to UNA, or Florence State...as it was called then. Travis wanted a career in the Army. He was takin ROTC. He wanted to be an officer, and he did, and was very successful in doin it. So, that left me as the "Tall Hog at the Trough". I was Daddy's "go to" man. He trusted me, and course I was good in figures. Daddy asked me sumthin', some kind math problem, and I could do it in my head. I was just good in figures. I didn't have to write it down and divide it out. I could do it in my head, and that amazed him, and that would please me. He'd say, "Son, I need this and I need this...", and I would rattle it off. Then I would go back and divide it out and make sure I was right.

You remember that list of stuff that Daddy was listing on that bank note? See, he had to have money to buy seed and fertilizer. See, the only things that they bought was cloths and shoes, flour (cuz we didn't raise wheat), sugar (cuz we didn't raise cane), and coffee. And everything thing else came out of the ground. They raised it. He cured his own meat... Killed hogs. Daddy knew how to cure... I used to fuss about country ham. We had it all the time. Now I go out here to Cracker Barrel and pay $10 for a piece like 'at right there.. I used to fuss and cuss about havin' it. I used call it "rurned meat". It was cured meat.

I couldnt ever figure out.... Momma and Daddy used to love to give people stuff. They would go out to the smokehouse and slice em off some country ham, and it would tickle everybody to death. I'd think, "Man, they crazy as a bessy bug...Why they want that kinda stuff" They would give 'em produce, and that just delighted Daddy and Momma both to be able to give stuff to friends and family. They were amazing..."

Ider and the Poker Game....

2011-06-08T19:16:00.001-05:00

The stories about Maw Ider are legendary... This is one of our favorites told by Dad... Also, I knew there was a reason why I was such a good poker player!

"See, Grandma Wiley....Mother's Mother... was a Kimbral... I think it was her brother's boy traveled all over the world gambling and playing Poker. Daddy said that everybody said he was the best in the world. He would go on riverboats and trains. He would be gone for months.

Momma didn't approve of gamblin' and Daddy used to play in a Poker Game. One day Momma found out where the Poker game was. She took Daddy's pistol and them three babies.. And she went to that house. She walked in that door. They said there was a chair in her way. She kicked that chair out of her way, wavin' that pistol around. Men was jumpin out of windas. The back screen door was latched, and this guy couldnt get it open. So, he just backed up and took door and all. I would ask Momma, cause I always wanted to know if that story was true.. Momma would always just smile and drop her head and she never would tell me. So when Bill, Cliff, Dan, and CB all got jobs at Wolverine, I was Daddy's main man and helping take care of his business and take care of his farming operation. I was 17 or 18 years old. One day, me and Daddy was sittin' out on the front porch. I said, "Daddy, I wanna ask you a question.."... now, Daddy was quiet... never did say a whole lot..."I wanna ask you a question. Ever since I been knee-high I've heard this story about Momma breakin up the Poker game wavin' your pistol around... I wanna know if this story is true..." Daddy just sat there for what seemed like 10 minutes, and these were the words he finally said, "Damn foolish woman..." So I know it was true. The reason that I bet Momma wouldnt say nothin was that they tied up about that a million time. I bet Daddy was embarrassed, you know..."

New Beginnings.... Goodbye Miss Annie!

2011-05-29T23:57:00.001-05:00

Dad used tell me about Ms. Annie Wheeler and our family's history with her. I heard bits and pieces through the years but finally got him to tell me the whole story!

"Ms. Annie Wheeler was Fightin' Joe's daughter. When he died, she inherited all his land and his plantation, and she controlled it... Daddy and 'em wouldn't do nothin' without Ms. Annie's approval......I mean nothing! She named all the kids and everything! Course, I was scared of her as a bear cuz I'd hear everyone saying, "Oh, Ms. Annie ain't gonna like that!". But see, Daddy and 'em didn't tell her that they were moving... She had no idee... Ms. Annie Wheeler considered Daddy to be the very best sharecropper that she had... He worked on her plantation. Course, you know what a sharecropper is? You are able to live in their house and on their property rent free, but they get a third or a fourth... When you raise cotton or corn or produce, if they want it, everything that's raised on that land they got a third or fourth... And as best I remember, she got a third. Sometimes, cause they would have so much they wouldn't take that, but I remember that Momma used to can tomater soup for Ms. Annie ... She liked that.. Stuff like that ya know...

But, uh, in '42....because we moved to Moulton when I was in 3rd grade and that would have made me 7....I was born in '35....it was in '42... The War had just started... Willie Owens had moved to Moulton away from Wheeler and Willie and Daddy, and their wives, was real good friends... They came down, and I was a little ol boy... I wanted to know everything so when the grown-ups was talkin I would sit and listen....kinda like Josh does you know... I'd sit and listen. Well, Willie said, "Travis, you need to get away from this. You need to buy you a farm in Moulton. You need to get away from this. You won't never have nothin' as long as you work for Ms. Annie Wheeler. You'll be a sharecropper. You won't never have nothin'. You can buy you a farm. And I know where there's a farm is... You wanna go see it?" Daddy said, "Willie I don't have no money!". Willie Owens was on the board of directors for the Federal Land Bank, and he said, "Travis, I'll go on the note with you and you can buy this farm. Its a fine farm. Its the Warren place. Go look at it. You and Ider go look at it.". So they did. It was 160 acres about a mile and a half from Willie's place. I had never seen Momma and Daddy so keyed up and happy about something... Now that was in the fall of the year, and Daddy bought that farm. We had a 20 year note on that farm, and we paid it off in 5 years.

I won't ever forget it as long as I live. We loaded our stuff up on a pick-up truck, and Dan and C.B. had already carried away the cultivators and lot of the farm stuff. They hadn't told Ms. Annie yet. Well, Momma and Daddy went by, I think they owed her a little money and paid her off, and told Ms. Annie they were movin. Aw Lord, she had the awfulest fit I've ever heard. She talked to Momma and told her how sorry our family was and how much she had done for our family over all these years. She told what a bad bunch of...my Mother cried from the Wheeler Plantation to Moulton. I wont never forget it. I've never got over it. Ms. Annie, I don't view her like a lot of people do, cause I remember how she hurt my mother. It didn't bother Daddy, cause he knew how she was...it just rolled off his back, but it hurt Momma. She liked Ms. Annie. She thought she was a good person, and she respected her. She thought the feeling was mutual. I guess Ms. Annie felt betrayed. Maybe they should have told her earlier what they was doin, but they were afraid of her."

And so the Parker Family Farm was born.

Lord Ider... Ya dun killed him!

2011-05-28T21:03:00.001-05:00

I've heard this story several times but I laugh every time... Some of the grandkids are protective of their grandaddy, and they don't like this story....;-). My dad told this one last year at Thanksgiving again..

"My Aunt and Uncle lived in Gadsden. Horace and Cass had two children and every year they went on vacation to Detroit to see the Detroit Tigers play. That was Horaces favorite team. They wrote a letter to Momma and asked if they could come and stay the night so they could get to Detroit the next day before dark. Now it was Dwight, Wayne, me, Nat, and Carl... and Billy Bragg was always around too.. So, six boys were always hanging around, so Momma called all of us together. She said, "Now listen, boys. I don't want to spend all the time fussin' at you boys. You must behave.. ". She looked at me and said, "Do you understand?". Now, I knew that the only answer to that question was, "Yes ma'am..". I knew right off the bat that I wasn't going to behave, and Cass and Horace hadn't been there an hour, and I had both of their kids crying...I just couldn't help it.. I was just so mean... Momma didn't yell.. She just looked at me and said, "Come here, boy...".

Now I knew what she was going to do... She was going to grab my arm and jerk me around fussin' on me and that embarrassed me! I was going to be the heavyweight champion of the world and the best athelete and that was humiliating.. So I ran... Now when Daddy and them first moved there it was up on top of this red hill... And they had gone down to the river when the water was low and got some
Smooth river rocks, kindly flat... Well, Momma reached down and grabbed one of those rocks and threw it at me... It hit me right on top of the head.. It didn't hurt, but I fell down, squallin' and carryin' on. Cass looked over at Maw Ider and said, "Lord, Ider... You dun killed him..."

Christmas Dinner at Maw Ider's.... Poor Man's Cake, Cob Battlin', and the Big Nickel

2011-05-28T15:18:00.001-05:00

This is a story that Dad told me last year at Thanksgiving... I tried to capture how he told it as best i could...

Daddy was the oldest of 7or 8 siblings, and Daddy had to quit school help raise the family. My grandmother depended on Travis. The same thing happened to Momma. There was two Wileys, Ida and Frank. Momma's daddy, Vess Wiley, died when she was 6 months old. Momma's mother, she was a Kimbral, married Leander Terry. Momma called him Papa Terry, and he was the only daddy she ever knew. They had a bunch of children, I think 7 or 8. Well, Momma became the mother figure when her mother died. I told Betty, they'd come to our house at Christmas because going to Ida's was going Home. And my daddy, even with all those step-brothers and half-brothers coming in, made sure that there was plenty of food and that everyone was taken care of. Their lives were tough. Momma was in the 5th or 6th grade when she had to quit school too,and she became the mother figure of that family.

I know how much all of them loved her. Ida was just...... I've heard story after story from all my cousins about going to Ida's for Christmas Dinner. I told one in Sunday School the other day that liked to tickle everyone to death. Bobby was my red-headed first cousin, he Is deceased now, but he always used to help me with things over here or over yonder, he was a good electrician... Betty just loved him. Me and him and a couple of boys from work built that building out behind our house when we lived on Puckett... Well Bobby worked with me at Monsanto, and we'd work Christmas. You'd have to ask off for Christmas, and lots of time the older folks would get time off. So we would work on Christmas and lots of stuff would be shut down and not a lot of supervision would be there. We'd just sit around and eat and talk... Every year, they'd say, "come on, Bobby Red, and tell us about going to Aunt Ider's!" he'd tell the story about going to eat at Maw Ider's and the kids getting their plates and having to sit on the floor and eat. One of the favorite desserts that everyone would look forward to was the Poor Man's Cake. Maw Ider would always tell Bobby to get a small piece since it was everybody's favorite. He would watch all the adults going thru and getting their food and wait til all of them got theirs and then he'd always go back for another piece. What was so special about going to Iders was that there was so much food! There was a table from here to way over yonder full of nothing but desserts! Poor Man's Cake, Caramel Cake, Coconut Cake, fried apple pies, potato pies... Everything you could imagine... Poor Man's Cake had big ol Muskat raisins, English walnuts and pecans in it... It was kind of a dark cake like a Molasses Cake... It had thick caramel icing with half of an English Walnut on the top.

He'd tell about us playin in the barn, lookin out the winders, fallin in the hay, and cob battlin'... See, when you fed the horses, you'd put whole ears of corn in there and the horses would eat the corn and leave the cobs... We'd soak the cobs in water and throw 'em at each other... Man, they'd sting.... That was cob battlin'... We'd play all day and then Ider would start hollerin' for us to come in and eat again! And we'd go eat again! Ider would give little toys to all the kids... For years she gave all of em dollars. Jean and Boot's boys would call it the "Big Nickel". Go to grandmas and get the big nickel! Ha! Yeah, Bobby said he would always think as they were driving away, "Dad-gummit, it'll be another year til we can go back for Christmas Dinner again..."

My Father the Storyteller...

2011-05-28T11:25:00.001-05:00

My dad has always been an exceptional storyteller. Whether it's the Christmas Story every year during the holidays or the yarns that he spins in Sunday School after being egged on by his friends, his ability to captivate a group of people is truly a gift. We have always marveled at his recall. After hearing a story once or twice, he has it...down to the last inflection and tone..

Dads catalogue includes Jerry Clower favorites, fables, fish tales, an endless array of stories from his childhood and adolescence on the farm, colorful tales from adulthood, Monsanto, and his experience as a son, husband, and father.

I am going to endeavor to capture his stories as often as I can and share them on my blog... Though you won't get to hear the inflection and the masterful way that he tells his stories, I think that you will hopefully get a glimpse of one facet of the man that I most admire.

Soccer Weekends!

2009-09-27T20:43:00.003-05:00

Before I got married and had kids, the only thing that I knew about soccer was that it was played somewhere besides Alabama. I thought it was some sport that was played in Europe because they didnt know how to play real football. When I met my wife and her family, I became aware that it was played in the US, but apparently only out west in Arizona and California where all of the enlightened people live. We spent a year in Houston, Texas and low and behold it was played there too. Thats when Josh first started playing. Now our lives seem to revolve around it. Both kids have tried baseball and football, but have eventually come back to soccer as their favorite (much to their fathers dismay). However, if they enjoy it, and it envolves outdoor activity and exercise, so be it. My wife currently posts our schedule on the fridge so that we (i'm being generous....its really for those outside of Krista's head) can keep our schedules straight. Currently we have practices every night except for Friday during the week, and we generally play games on both Saturday and Sunday (for both boys...so double your pleasure).

This weekend was one of the weekends where both boys are playing games, however they are playing in different places......in this case different cities......and different states.... Krista and I have to tag team and divide and conquer in these cases. Krista took Josh to his game and I took Matthew on Saturday and then we switched on Sunday. Now comes the fun part...... All day on Saturday, I had been telling people that Krista was with Josh in Hammond, LA at a tournament. Hammond is about 3o miles west of Mandeville. I just knew it to be a fact.... Dont ask me why.... I just did. So on Sunday morning, we got up and got ready. Krista helped me get everything that we would need together and even went so far as to put a map to the fields in the SUV. She showed it to me. It was unspecific other than specifying the exit number and then directions to the field from there. Great! Thats all I really need. We have to be there 45 minutes before game time so we left about an hour before that. Josh and I are having great coversations and discussions about Fantasy Football and the college football games from Saturday. We are laughing and discussing the game to come. He innocently asks me, "Are we almost there Dad?". I check the exit number and let him know that its just a few more miles....Exit 28.... I get distracted and realize that I must have passed the exit so I have to turn around to go back. Josh nervously laughs and just shakes his head at me. I then start watching the mile markers closely. 25....26.....27.....28.....29......Wait a second..... They must have made a typo on the exit number.... Nope...... Thats when I realize that Josh's game is in Gulfport, Mississippi.....in the exact opposite direction than i had been travelling for the last 45 minutes... Its 915 and Joshes game begins in 45 minutes.... After doing the math in my head, I come to the obvious conclusion that we will miss a significant portion of the game. Josh is crushed and distraught, but after losing it for a few minutes, he eventually tells me, "Its OK, Daddy.." Josh then confiscates my cell phones so that I can no longer be distracted.

We make it to the game during the second half. Josh doesnt get to play in that game, but gets to play in the second game and does pretty well. We play some tough, and dirty, teams and lose both games in hard fought battles. I sat with the other parents who appeared to be looking at me with some degree of pity after becoming aware of my odyssey. I try to cheer at the right time and sound like I know what I'm talking about..... "He's offsides!" "That should be a yellow card!".... After all is said and done, I still have no idea how the game is played nor do I really have any desire to learn.... I just try to be supportive and tell the boys to "be aggressive". Maybe that will count for something someday if they ever decide to play a sport that I understand....

Kids and Sports

2009-07-04T14:03:00.004-05:00

Our weekend rituals consist of ferrying the boys to a variety of activities, from Fun Night to birthday parties to baseball/soccer/soccer/football games. We often joke that we need a weekend to recover from the weekend. Sports, in my opinion, are critical in teaching our kids some pretty important lessons that will serve them throughout their lives. We've had both good and bad experiences with the boys and sports, but all have helped to shape the boys into the fine young men that they are becoming. We've tried to stress to them that the difficult times (losing streaks, belligerent coaches, difficult teammates, bad calls by officials, etc.) teach them more than the good times. That's sometimes hard for a 9-11 year old to understand, but I still think that its critical to explain it to them and try to help them put things in perspective. I've been constantly amazed at how my kids have internalized what I've explained to them to become more mature human beings and better teammates.

Although we've been very fortunate with the coaches, parents, and teammates (on the whole) that we've had over the past few years, I've witnessed some behaviors that also teach some lessons. First, I'll be the first to admit that I've had no formal experience with coaching, nor have I played organized sports at a high level. I say that to prefice the fact that this is just my opinion as a parent and a fan of sports in general. To this point, I've also not been willing to commit the time to coach, nor do I believe that I am qualified to teach the kids what they need to know beyond a certain point. I admire and appreciate those that are willing to do so. The coaches for my kids teams have run the gamut from those that have had formal experience and backgrounds that qualify them to teach the fundamentals of the sports that they are coaching to those volunteer Dads that just want their kids and their teammates to have fun. If I was asked to offer advice to someone that was considering coaching kids, I would probably boil it down to the following:

*Don't relive your childhood at the expense of the kids that you are coaching
*While winning is important, it should not overshadow the importance of playing the game the right way, both fundamentally and ethically. The kids will be watching you and how you act and respond to certain situations. What will you teach them?
*Effort should be praised along with results. Talent will vary, but if a kid is hustling and trying hard, they should be recognized for the effort. To use a baseball analogy, you'll never hit anything if you dont swing the bat. A word of encouragement from you may enable a kid to overcome fears or insecurities that could affect them for years.
*Don't underestimate the impact that you can have on the kids. How many of us remember that one coach or teacher that affected us profoundly duing our childhood?

Some of these same lessons apply to how we should behave as parents. I think that we often forget that our kids learn how to be adults, friend, fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, sons, and daughters from US. They watch us and how we interact with the world around us to LEARN how to handle the challenges that will face them throughout their lives. The next time you stand up to scream at an umpire or referree about a bad call or complain about the coach putting a less talented kid in a key position that might affect the outcome of a game within earshot of your kids, just ask youself, "What lesson have I just taught my kids?" Til, then.......Game On!

Jed and Rufus

2009-03-18T20:02:00.003-05:00

In addition to my sons, our family also has two other boys that keep us hopping. Jed, our yellow lab, came to us from a friend of Krista's in Houston. He has never missed a beat in his relocation to our home. By all accounts, he is a perfect dog....and has been since we got him. He has always been a great house dog, even when he topped out at 90 pounds or so. When he needs to go outside, he walks to the door and patiently (and very quietly) waits for someone to open the door for him. He then goes out (unsupervised), does what he needs to do, and then comes back to the door. If its left cracked open he gently pushes through it. The only thing that he doesnt do is close the door behind him. He has been great with the kids from the time that they were little. He was very happy in his life as our only dog.....then Rufus arrived.

My wife called me one day to tell me that one of her coworkers had been driving down the Interstate when she noticed cars swerving in front of her. She then saw a tiny black lab prancing down the middle of the interstate. She quickly pulled off the interstate, ran out into traffic (not kidding), and rescued the pup. She brought it to work where everyone ooh'd and ahh'd. As my wife was describing this to me and how cute and adorable he was, I was saying to myself...."Crap....we are about to get another dog". My fears were confirmed when she called to say that they were having trouble finding the puppy a home. She asked the question, "If we cant find anyone to take him, do we want him?" Hearing a sense of longing and a bit of desperation in her voice, I said, "If there are no other options, we can take him." Since then, we have considered taking him back to the interstate several times.

Since he arrived at the house, Jed has aged at least twice his normal rate. He nips, bites, and generally annoys the crap out of him all the time. I am sure that in his own doggy way, he said, "What the heck is this?....Why are you doing this???" when we brought him home. Now, whenever Rufus does what Rufus does, Jed looks at us with this expression, "See.....I told you not to keep him...". Rufus is about 8 months old now, and is taller than Jed, who is 10 years old. He is a puppy in every sense of the word. He chews, pees, craps, and generally wears us out on a daily basis. In direct opposition to Jed, when we let Rufus out, he just wanders around sniffing and digging wherever he chooses. After about 20 minutes, we are ready for him to come inside. Then the fun begins from his perspective. We tell him to come inside, and use every enticement that we can think of. He just stares back at us with a look that screams, "Huh?" Then when we reach the point were we have exhausted our patience, we go out into the yard to "coax" him back inside. That's where he begins to dodge, dip, dart, and generally make fools out of us. I can only imagine what our neighbors are saying...."Honey, that guy is running around in his boxers chasing that dog again...."

They have given us some funny stories though....well....they are funny now. Krista called me on the phone one afternoon. We had just returned from a trip, and she was picking up the dogs from the boarder. She had them in the minivan and was on her way back to the house. That's when she looked into the rear view mirror and saw Rufus in that familiar "hunch" to dog owners, and began to smell another familiar odor. She screamed..."Nooooooooo! ......" to no avail....although he did have a very distressed expression during the act, according to Krista. I couldnt help laughing while she was describing what had happened, but she didnt find it as funny. Another time, I woke up around 11pm when I felt Rufus jump on the bed. As I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes, I heard a familiar sound. It sounded like a fountain.... As my eyes came into focus, I heard Krista ask....."Is he peeing on me??....." Sure enough, he was standing at the foot of the bed relieving himself and "marking" his mommy. Yep, there are times that I hear that Interstate calling...... and I catch Jed looking at me with an expression that couldnt say "I told you so" any more clearly than if he could speak.

Our Marriage...God blessed the Broken Road....

2009-03-07T19:52:00.006-06:00

My wife and I will be married 15 years on August 6th of this year. We met in a Physics class at Calhoun Community College. A group of students would meet before class to study and go over homework. I would constantly marvel at Krista's always consistent, complete assigments, study notes, and typewriter-like handwriting. I'm sure that she would constantly marvel at my utter lack of preparation, chicken scratching handwriting, and last minute cramming. Krista is an extraordinary listener. She was quite shy (boy does she hate for anyone to refer to her as that) initially, but would show her quirky sense of humor every so often and make everyone laugh. I wasn't dating anyone at the time. Truth be told, I hadn't dated that much through high school. I was never really into dating just to date. I was EXTREMELY shy (that's being kind....I was terrified for the most part) about approaching girls and had really only been in one relationship of any signicant duration which ended abruptly (thank goodness). But I digresss....Krista was not involved with anyone either, and one of our mutual friends and study partners, Kay, asked me casually one day, "Have you ever thought about asking Krista out...?" I guess sometimes you need someone sometimes to point out those great people that have been there all the time. I started to notice Krista....then I couldnt stop noticing her. Her eyes.... wow, you will not find many eyes that were more stunningly green than my wifes were when we were at Calhoun. Notice that I said "were". You see, whenever someone would comment on them, she would immediately respond with, "They're fake...colored contacts...". My wife does not take compliments well, and disbelieves most of them. She couldn't fake that smile though... When Krista would truly find someting funny, her smile....yes, I know its a cliche'.....would absolutely light up the room. I finally mustered up the courage to ask her out and stumbled through a request. I was ineloquent and clumsy, or at least it felt as if I was, but, nonetheless, she agreed to dinner and a movie.

So on December 21st, 1990 we went to eat at Simp McGees in Decatur and then to see that all time classic, Kindergarten Cop.....yes....the Governator on our first date...what was I thinking?? Two things stood out from that first date. The first was that Krista has a few quirky eating habits... During the normal dating small talk, I neglected to notice that she was eating her chicken finger platter in a rather unusual way. When the waiter came by to ask whether she wanted a box for all of the apparently unconsumed chicken fingers, she replied without hesitation...."No thanks, they're empty...". As the waiter picked up the breading shells that once contained portions of poultry and looked at her with a degree of incredulity, I suspected that this was just one of the many little interesting things that makes her who she is. The second thing, and the one that I still remember to this day, was our first kiss. As I said, my experience to this point was limited....but, I had never kissed anyone with lips as soft as hers. I remember walking back to the car as I left her at the door and whispering to myself, "Wow..". We dated through the remainder of our time at Calhoun. I gave her a promise ring three months after we started dating....and, honestly, I really did know for certain that this is the woman with whom I wanted to spend my life. She went to University of South Alabama to pursue her lifelong career aspiration of becoming a Physical Therapist. I went to Auburn to pursue......well, big surprise....I was still searching for my lifelong aspiration.... True to my "promise", I proposed to her three years into our relationship, she said yes, and we remained engaged for a year after that.

We were married on August 6th, 1994. We were married at 9th Street United Methodist Church, my church since childhood, surrounded by friends and family. Our wedding day was a whirlwind of loving wishes from all of our guests, great food and fellowship, and wonderful memories. I know that it sounds corny and sappy, but as Rev. Randy read our vows, the world fell away. All of the background noise, the nervousness, wedding guests, the wedding party....all of them seemed to just fade into the background and everything just seemed......right. I honestly felt God's presence as we accepted each other's hand in marriage... It was one of the most clear and perfect moments in my life.

My wife still his those stunning green eyes (though she has abandoned the colored contacts...her eyes are still as beautifully green as ever) as well as that glowing smile. She has become a gifted healer who has helped her patients regain parts of their lives that seemed lost due to injuries and ailments. She has become a loving and caring mother who takes such joy and watching our beautiful children grow up and turn into wonderful little people. She has become a wonderful and caring wife. She has unselfishly allowed me to find a career (which required moves to four states) that I love, and we've been fortunate to settle and raise our children in a. wonderful little community in Louisiana. I can't tell you that every day of the last 14 years has been easy or full of marital bliss. We have our issues just as any other husband and wife. We don't communicate as well as we should sometimes, but we figure out what each other needs most of the time. I've learned that marriage is always a work in progress.... I am just glad to have such an extraorinary companion with which to cotinue the journey.... Krista, I know that I am difficult and emotional sometimes, but I love and appreciate you more than I can ever describe to you.

A few things that I can pass on to those that are on the road now. Women are right more than they are wrong. Their recollection of events and circumstances is almost always more accurate than yours. Don't let being "right" overshadow how you make your partner feel with your words or actions. Tell you spouse how you fell about them.....daily. Hug and kiss often....and let your children see you do it....it will help them to learn how to express emotion. Talk to each other about your day and LISTEN....even when you are tired and just want to watch TV. Try to have dinner as a family together at the table as often as possible... For the wives out there.... things that are obvious to you are not obvious to us. When you feel that you are sending clear messages, often that is not the case. We are fairly linear creatures that recieve messages much better when they are spoken plainly. If you would like us to stop or start doing something, just ask us outright. Oh, but be sure that you have our attention first.....;-) Also, you are gifted beings with the ability to multitask infinitely and keep everything moving in the right direction. You have to remember to give us the opportunity to ride in and save the day every so often. It helps us feel needed and appreciated. Just a husband's perspective.... Marriage can be a difficult road, but if you have found the right person.....what an incredible blessing it can be.

Josh and Matthew

2009-03-03T16:07:00.002-06:00

My boys are two of the most incredible little human beings that I've ever seen. Josh, my 11-year old, is thoughtful, sensitive, and very much in touch with the world around him. He is very passionate about his hobbies and interests, currently soccer and paintball. Matthew, my 8-soon-to-be-9-year-old, is my daredevil. If there's a ramp, he'll jump it. He is also very passionate about his hobbies, which over the last year have ranged from origami (he taught his class how to make all of the animals that he learned how to make on YouTube...), magic (again, he put on magic shows using all of the tricks that he learned on YouTube....), arts and crafts (anything that you can imagine....our house is full of scraps of paper and anything else that you can imagine), and whatever else he comes across. Both of them are very mature and extraordinary young men. Many people tell me so on a regular basis, and their teachers tell me about how intelligent and creative that they are. We know all of these things to be true..... then we come home and begin our night-time routines....

Most nights at the Parker household probably resemble many other households of parents with younger children. The typical homework, dinner, shower, pajama, tooth brushing, and other mundane routines that we do EVERY night... This is pretty standard stuff. Homework....assuming that all books and assignments are brought home and brought to our attention....is generally not that complex and difficult of an issue. The aforementioned assumptions usually are.... Dinner is normally also not that big of an issue. It is usually out of a box or a can (neither my wife or I are chefs), and our boys are pretty good eaters. Showers....this is where we normally hit our snags. After we use our household intercom to get their attention above their closed doors and blaring televisions (consists of either me or their mother screaming across the house...), we summon both children. First, we have to determine who will go first, which generally devolves into an argument about who has gone first for the last forty-seven times (much to my Mom's chagrin, I have resorted to a coin flip....simple, easy, and incontrovertible). Then we give instructions.....basically, wash your hair and wash your body. After we determine who goes first, the unlucky victim turns the water on for what seems like an hour and waits for it to get hot enough. During the wait, a strange phenomenon occurs. It seems when you combine the lack of clothing and the mirror in the bathroom, a sort of delirium sets in, complete with strange facial expressions and body spasms... When the appropriate temperature is reached (apparently it takes 10-15 minutes for this to occur...after enough water has gone down the drain to fill Lake Ponchetrain), they gets in. Then they stand there......and stand there....and stand there. After another 10-15 minutes, the intercom again is used when we request an update on their progress. They are usually finishing washing their hair. When the unlucky victor emerges, we do a cursory examination (smell their hair, look over their bodies...usually to find a patch of dry hair on the front of their head because they didnt want to risk soap in their eyes...). Assuming a follow-up wash is not required, we summon the winnder of the coin flip to start round two. The cycle continues as our patience and strength disappears. As each completes their shower, we give specific instructions (the SAME instructions EVERY night) about getting their pajamas on, brushing their teeth, taking out contacts, etc. Rarely are the tasks completed with out a follow-up request, but we get lucky on occasion. They whole time that we are using our intercom and issuing these instructions, I keep thinking... they are going to get it someday. My wife keeps counting down an imaginary clock saying that she has until they are 18 to train them to go out into the world and be self sufficient. I don't have the heart to tell her that in all likelihood they will be typical males that still struggle with the aforementioned mundane tasks into adulthood. I know my children are brilliant, intelligent, and creative beings that have unlimited potential. I just hope that there is not a section on "Showering" on the S.A.T. or A.C.T. ......

Susan

2009-03-02T16:27:00.000-06:00

My wifes mother, Susan White, passed away this last Saturday. We were blessed to have her staying in our home, and she passed surrounded by those that she loved and those that loved her dearly. She had struggled for years against a body that was failing her before she answered God's call to come home. Experiencing the death of someone close to you is never easy. Trying to figure out how to explain that passing to two young boys is even harder. As I tried to support my wife and her family through this tragedy, I was amazed at her strength and emotional stability in the face something so terribly taxing. Susan, also known as Gigi, was a truly incredible person. She always tried to look on the bright side of everything. She never met a person that should couldn't have a conversation with, and she made friends in the strangest places. She never got lost....she just had adventures finding new routes to get to where she was going. She found joy in the most mundane tasks, particularly if they required a trip to any store. She loved our family more than life itself. Her grandchildren, Josh and Matthew, lit up her life and made her soul sing. She loved my wife, her only daughter, with all of her heart. She was a loyal and caring wife. I know that she has found a purple cloud (her favorite color) in Heaven and will be watching over us while she is snacking on her peaches and her other favorite sweets. We will miss her terribly.

Remember Who You Are....

2009-02-28T18:30:00.000-06:00

The title of my new blog has been a Parker Family mantra for as long as I can remember... I'm pretty sure that it originated from my Grandmother Campbell who used to recite it whenever her children ventured out into the small community of Lexington, AL. Sayings like this and family identity have been a huge part of making me into the person that I am today. My siblings and I have tried to take them into our families whereever we can. I think of my Mom and Dad when I recite these pearls of wisdom and recieve the incredulous stares from our children in return. Family is important. It defines who you are......and what you represent. My Grandmother Parker was also a unique lady.... full of fire and love of family and friends that was never more evident than during family gatherings and holidays. All were welcome, invited or uninvited, family or not. My family is the most important thing in the world to me. I'm blessed to have been raised by two of the most extraordinary, kind, and passionate people that I will ever know. I'm doubly blessed to be married to a women that complements my every weakness and makes me a better husband, father, and person. To complete the trifecta, my children, who will, in all likelihood, be the subjects of most of my future blogs, are two of the most kind, creative, and GOOD boys that you will ever meet. When I look at the adult, son, husband, and father that I've become, I could not be more proud of the roots and origins that have made me into the person that I am.