It's Oscar Night...Time for The Wifey Awards

Welcome to the Third Annual Wifey Awards.  These awards are given to movies I saw with The Wife this year.   You can find the first and second versions of The Wifey's by following the links.  New this year are movie clips from each category, plus a list of websites and links every movie buff should use.  So as you stroll down the red carpet tonight, tell Ryan Seacrest who you are wearing (I’m wearing Russell Athletic, Ryan).  It's time to enjoy the awards…without the incoherent acceptance speeches.

Category: Give It a Rest

• Marvel/Avenger Series: Since the first Iron Man, we’ve seen more movies in this Avenger series than Robert Downey, Jr. has visits to rehab.
• Twilight: Can we get Abe Lincoln to rid us of this vampire menace?
• Liam Neeson: With all the movies this guy has made lately, how are we all not already dead by his hand?  He was even on ESPN...as you'll see in the first minute of this clip it didn't go well.
• John Goodman: The only thing he hasn’t been in is The Big Bang Theory. However, the rest of the Rosanne cast has made up for this missing piece to his filmography.
• And The Wifey goes to…Twilight.  The last year we were not subjected to a Twilight movie was 2007.  That’s before Obama was President.  See what all this “hope and change” has brought us?

Category: Best Movie You Probably Didn’t See

• Bernie: A quirky movie with Jack Black in his best acting performance ever…really his only acting performance ever.
• Seeking a Friend for the End of the World: A quirky movie with Steve Carrel about what happens in his life when an asteroid is headed towards earth.  It’s like the story is torn from last week’s headlines. (Clip).
• Moonrise Kingdom: A quirky movie.  A very, very quirky movie.  So quirky, I’m not really sure what it’s about.
• And The Wifey goes to…Seeking a Friend.  While The Office launched Carrel’s career (that’s fun to say: “Carrel’s career”) it causes him to be underrated as an actor.  While this isn’t his best role, it is still a movie worth seeing.

Category: Best Portrayal of a Dysfunctional Personality

• Denzel Washington as Whip Whitaker (Flight) - addicted to addictions.  He hit the trifecta: drugs, booze and women.  Denzel showed again in this role why he’s one of the best actors of this generation.
•  Bradley Cooper as Pat Solitano (Silver Linings Playbook) - bipolar.  Bipolar is more than just dysfunction for sure.  Cooper did a tremendous job portraying the battles with mental illness of Solitano.  It's hard to believe he started out as the nerdy friend in Alias.
• Mark Ruffalo as The Hulk (Marvel’s The Avengers) - gamma ray disorder.  He turns green, has a nasty temper and has more wardrobe malfunctions than Janet Jackson.
• And The Wifey Goes to…The Hulk.  You want to tell him he didn’t win?

Category: Best Movie Scene

• Flight - The hotel refrigerator scene.  If you didn’t see the movie this won’t make sense, but if you did you won’t forget it.  Expertly acted and directed scene.
• Argo – Airport escape. Extremely tense climax scene as “The Six” tries to get on a flight home.  You think getting through airport security is tough here, try getting past the Iranians.
• Silver Linings Playbook – Dance contest. The dancing was not very good, but it was just good enough.  Plus Jennifer Lawrence looked amazing.  Now I see why my 14-year old son is always saying “Jennifer Lawrence is hot”.  (Click here for clip of the scene).
• And The Wifey Goest to…Silver Linings Playbook.  I really couldn’t decide so I used “eenie-meenie-minie-mo”. 

Category: Best Bad Guy

• Bane – Dark Knight Rises: A much better foe to Batman than The Riddler or Mr. Freeze. (clip)
• Osama bin Laden – Zero Dark Thirty: He finally meets his end at the hands of the Navy Seals.
• Woody Allen – To Rome With Love: He’s not a bad guy, but he deserves a “villain” label for making this stinker of a movie.
• And The Wifey Goes to…Bane.  I’m not giving an award for anything to bin Laden and the total flop of To Rome at the box office was punishment enough for Woody.

Category: Best Movie

• Dark Knight Rises: Probably the best super hero movie of all time.  The story, direction and acting in DKR were all nearly perfect.
• Argo: The story was fascinating and it was told well by Ben Affleck.  A great ensemble cast and a soundtrack full of great music from the late 70s sure didn’t hurt. (Clip)
• Flight: One of the things that confirms how well done this movie was is how difficult parts of it were to watch.  The struggle of addiction as portrayed in Flight was quite powerful.
• And The Wifey Goes to…Argo.  It is a unique, but true, story that, while very intense, was still entertaining from beginning to end.  Affleck’s come a long way since Gigli or Daredevil. 

The Wife and I will continue to be on the lookout for the best movies of 2013.  I’m looking for something co-starring Liam Neeson and John Goodman.  Hopefully it won’t involve a vampire or be directed by Woody Allen.

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Some helpful movie websites and apps:

• IMDB - Info on every movie and TV show as well as filmography of actors, directors, etc.
• Fandango – Need to know what is playing where and when…use this site.
• Common Sense Media – Family reviews of movies that gives details on violent, sexual and language content.
• Run Pee – an app that tells you the best time to take a bathroom break during the movie

Adventures in Lingerie Shopping

What most guys know about lingerie shopping you can fit into an A-cup.  For the unlearned dudes out there, an “A-cup” is the smaller size…think “Kate Hudson”.  Buying lingerie for The Wife can be like your kid buying you a tie for Father’s Day.  It may get worn once out of a sense of obligation and then it’s buried in a drawer or given to the church clothing drive never to be seen again.  However, the appropriateness of donating a lace teddy to your church will vary depending upon your denomination.

You hope that the lingerie gift is well received because that stuff is not always easy for a guy to buy in the first place.  Let’s say you order by mail.  If the package is delivered to your house, then The Wife may get the box before you do.  At best, the surprise is ruined or, at worst, she hides the box in a place you’ll never find it (like the laundry room) and your package is forever deemed to have been “lost in the mail”.  You may have equal or worse results if the package is sent to your office.  Imagine this page over the intercom: “Will Mr. Hot To Trot pick up his Frederick’s of Hollywood package at the front desk on his way to see Human Resources?”.

Shopping in the stores creates its own level of anxiety.  I believe sales clerks at Victoria’s Secret get paid bonuses if they embarrass male shoppers to the point of tears. This doesn’t make sense to me since men should be easy targets to “up-sell” (not a euphemism for anything).  When I visit the auto mechanic, they can pop the hood and start pointing at belts and clips and straps and tell me what I need to buy and I don’t know any better than to just buy it.  The same is true in the lingerie shoppe (note the fancy spelling of the word “shop”).  The sales girl can just start pointing at belts and clips and straps and tell me what I need to buy and I don’t know any better but to buy it. 

Before a guy decides to enter Victoria’s Secret he’s already made a few reconnaissance “fly bys” (while singing “Danger Zone” in his head) to be sure he doesn’t recognize anybody in the store.  He has also developed a plan of attack to acquire the target and retreat to home base.  Unfortunately, he gives up on that plan as quickly as the French army…well, gives up.  He walks in to the store and when faced with live bullets (or bustiers in this case) he forgets his training and panics.  Of course there are no sales clerks to help our shell-shocked warrior as he stumbles aimlessly through the store.  An hour later mall security escorts him from the premises after he’s been elbow deep in a stack of panties trying to figure out the difference between a “high-cut brief” and a “bikini”.  War is hell.   Trying to buy “something special” for “someone special” shouldn’t be. 

Finally now, a true “Adventures in Lingerie Shopping” story:

One day a few years ago I decided to buy the wife a nightgown. Nothing  risqué.  Strictly classy.  Honest.  I was wandering through the lingerie section of a department store when I heard a voice say: “Can I help you?”. 

Here’s where I have to help you use your imagination and ask you to believe I’m not being a racist in the way I tell this story (It’s just funnier this way).  The offer for help came from a four-foot-something Asian sales clerk.  To say English was her second language would probably be generous.  So, what she said was “Can I help you?”.  What I heard was: “Khan I hep yew?”.

I told her what I was looking for and she asked in a voice much bigger than her stature:”It for your whife or for gurrrrrl-fren?”  and then she erupted with an almost maniacal laugh (think Ozzy at the beginning of “Crazy Train”).  I was frightened. People from the lingerie department to the Orange Julius must have heard her.  I told her it was for The Wife and then I walked to a different section of the department to look on my own, hoping that Jackie Chan’s creepy little mom would forget about me.

A few minutes later she appears holding a hanger as high as she can over her tiny little head.  On this hangar is some style of lingerie that I could not identify.  It had clasps and straps and snaps and I think it even had a bottle opener.   She presents it for approval by bellowing: “What you tink of dis wahn?  It vaaaary saxxxy!  It vaaaary daaaaaangerous!”. 

To say this wasn’t going well would be like saying the “Boom Goes the Dynamite” guy had an off night.  So, I gave up on that idea, but would not go home empty handed.  I found the cookie shop in the mall and brought home a snickerdoodle for The Wife (also not a euphemism for anything).  I’m pretty sure she would like the cookie more anyway.

Happy Valentine’s Day.  Shop at your own risk.  When in doubt, buy a cookie.

Do You Trust Me?

Disney’s Alladin was released in 1992.  Let that sink in for a minute.  1992.  Nineteen-freakin-ninety-two.  Now go take your Geritol, clap off your lights and go to bed. 

Despite feeling like a geezer when I think about Alladin, it is one of my favorite Disney movies.  One of the most critical scenes is where Alladin asks Jasmin “do you trust me?” (this actually happens twice in the movie).  God asks us that same question every day “Do you trust me?”.

I was thinking about this as our boys (one a freshman in college, the other a freshman in high school) were headed back to school after Christmas break.  And I was thinking about it in context with this verse:

9 If your child asks for bread, do you trick him with sawdust? 10 If he asks for fish, do you scare him with a live snake on his plate? 11 As bad as you are, you wouldn't think of such a thing. You're at least decent to your own children. So don't you think the God who conceived you in love will be even better?  Matthew 7:9-11 (The Message Bible)

This is important to consider from the perspective that The Wife and I have as well as from the perspective of our children. 

As parents, we want to protect, comfort and provide for our children.  Unless you’re auditioning for some sick reality TV show, you probably want the same for your kids.  For their entire lives we have tried to shield them, encourage them, instruct them and provide for them the best we know how.  These things are less and less in our control (or what we perceive to be control) now and will only continue to trend that direction over time.  As a parent, that is an uncomfortable feeling to which God says: “Do you trust me?”.Do you trust that God loves them more than you love them?

For our boys, when it comes to their mother and me, I hope they are certain that above all else they are loved.  That we give them bread and not sawdust.  That we give them fish and not a snake.  That we give them roller blades and not razor blades (Scratch that last one.  It’s a bad Christmas story.).  They are now taking more and more ownership of their relationship with God and developing their own answer to His question: “Do you trust me?”.  Do you trust that God loves you even more than your parents love you?  Do you trust Him to give you wisdom?  Do you trust Him to be your provider?  Do you trust Him to be your comfort and your protector?

While it is a challenge to loosen our grip on that perceived control, it is fulfilling to see relationships change.  Part of that is seeing how our relationships with the boys change as they grow and mature.  But part of it is how each of our relationships with God changes as part of this process.  A process where we all seek to discover the grace to trust Him more.

How I Very Nearly Ruined Christmas

Each year I usually settle in closer to “Santa Claus” than “The Grinch” on the Scale of Christmas Icons.  In fact, one Christmas I actually BECAME Santa Claus…but that’s another story for another day.  This Christmas I would have been better off attempting a break-in at Nakatomi Plaza or maybe even replacing Christmas altogether with Festivus (there were, actually, some “airing of the grievances” in this Christmas story). The Christmas I want to share with you now may lead you to believe that my heart had even shrunk two sizes too small.

It all started back in 1998.  My son, The Tall One (although both sons are quite tall now, so let’s call him “The Taller One”). 

Take two:  It all started back in 1998.  My son, The Taller One, was four years old and a big fan of hockey’s newest team, the Nashville Predators.  The number one thing on his Christmas list that year was a Predators’ sweater (or as he called it “a Predators’ shirt”).  The second thing on his list was a pair of roller blades.  For a young, southern boy who had only been to (or even seen) one hockey game (the Predators franchise opener) it was a pretty big deal that hockey had vaulted to the top of his Christmas list. 

For months, when asked what he wanted for Christmas, The Taller One’s answer was consistent: “A Predators shirt and roller blades”.  I, ever the clever one, would tell him that “I’d just got off the phone with Santa.  He’s got your Predators SKIRT and RAZOR blades in his sack and ready to bring to you this Christmas”.  The four year old failed to find the humor in this and would quickly correct me: “Dad!  It’s a Predators SHIRT and ROLLER blades!”, and demand I get back in touch with Santa and make sure he got it right.

We were at The In-Laws for Christmas and when the morning of the 25^th finally arrived I had some gift-giving comedy in store for all of us.  Imagine a bright-eyed, hockey-loving, four-year-old boy hurrying down the stairs to the Christmas tree.  He’s greeted by his father who hands him a small, brightly-wrapped package.  When you’re four and you’re handed a gift to unwrap, you don’t ask questions.  You start ripping paper.  What The Taller One finds is, you guessed it, a box of razor blades.  He says: “Dad, you’re so funny” and gives me a big hug.  The rest of the family has a grand laugh to start Christmas day and Frosty the Snowman peers in through the living room window and gives us all a tip of his hat and a wink.  Dad of the Year! The End.

Unfortunately, there was a fly in the ointment…a monkey in the wrench…to my happy Christmas ending.  When The Taller One opens the package and sees the razor blades he does not laugh, smile or giggle.  Not even close.  First, his chin sinks to his chest.  Then, as it occurs to him that “if these are razor blades then somewhere under that tree there is also a skirt for me”, he crumbles to the floor in disappointment.  Tears begin to flow.  I’m a dead man.

The Wife and The Mother-in-Law are ready to demonstrate “Feats of Strength” by bashing my skull with the first heavy object they can find.  I gather the boy up in my arms and help him find the Predators shirt and roller blades under the tree.  For the boy, the crushing sadness gives way to joy.  For me, my day didn’t turn around that quickly.  The Wife and The Mother-in-Law are plotting my destruction throughout the day.  When I see them smile, I worry because that means they have not only thought up a maniacal way to end my existence, but they’ve concocted an air-tight alibi, too.

Through constant apologies and taking great care before I ate or drank anything, I managed to survive the day.  However, every year I am reminded by The Wife or the Mother-in-Law or even The Taller One of the year I very nearly ruined Christmas.  You know, every time a Bruce Willis movie comes out, nobody reminds him about being in “Look Who’s Talking Too”. 

Here’s wishing you and yours a Yippee-ki-yay, Merry Christmas.

What Does My Marriage Have in Common with Michael Jordan?

Question: What does my marriage have in common with Michael Jordan, Ryne Sandberg, David Beckham, The Lord is my shepherd, and a bad Jim Carrey movie (OK, that reference is a bit too vague)?  Answer: The number 23.

Today, The Wife and I celebrate our 23^rd wedding anniversary.  This week as she’s talked about our 23 years (and I’ve stared intently at her hoping not to detect signs of crushing disappointment) she’s mentioned that she doesn’t remember what it’s like to NOT be married.  I believe she meant that as a good thing.  I took it that way at least, and I have to agree.

There are some of you who will also know what we mean by that.  There has been so much living and so much sharing that your lives have become thoroughly intertwined (kind of like those tangled I-phone ear buds sitting on your night stand…but in a good way).  You likely don’t own anything of substance that you had before you were married.  And there isn’t anything about your life before you were married that you have any desire to go back to (OK, I’d like to get at least close to being as thin as I was when we were married).

To remember what life was 23 years ago, you’d have to remember having a cassette player in your car where you would have played the debut albums of DC Talk, Nirvana and The Wiggles (who would have thought that the only one of those three to still be around would be The Wiggles…God help us all).

You would have to remember the premier episodes of Seinfeld, Bay Watch and The Simpsons.  You would have been able to watch what should have been the last films in the Indiana Jones, Lethal Weapon and Back to the Future series (unfortunately, that was not the case).

You would have to remember what it was like to hear for the first time “You’ve got mail”.  You would also have to know what it means to be “a very good driver in the driveway”.

Twenty three years ago the national debt only circled the globe a time or two and you could get a gallon of gas for a little over a buck.  Twenty three years ago not only did twelve year olds not have cell phones, but nobody had cell phones.  Twenty three years ago you could wear a blue jean jacket and aviator sunglasses (at night).

Oh yeah, twenty three years ago you could buy a Twinkie.

A lot has changed over the last 23 years.  We’ve seen two sons born and one of them start college.  We’ve moved between seven and nine times, depending on how you count it.  We’ve had times that take your breath away and times when we just hold our breath as we pray to get through it.  Put it all together and there isn’t a relationship in the world that I would trade this one for and that will never change. I love you, honey.  And girl…you know it’s true.

Remembering Mike Being Mike

Apart from my own father (“Hey, Dad”) and my father-in-law (“Hi, Don”) the man who has had the greatest impact in my life has been Mike Kruse.  Mike passed away last week.

I first met Mike twenty years ago.  I was a far-too-young and far-too-inexperienced CFO for a construction company that was a client of the CPA firm that bore Mike’s name, Kruse & Associates.  Five years later, I went to work for Kruse & Associates and Mike became my boss.

Mike was more than just a boss.  He was a leader.  I never felt like I worked FOR Mike.  It always felt like I worked WITH Mike.  For a young whipper-snapper (whatever that is) who is looking to learn and grow, there is a tremendous difference between the two.

Mike was more than just a leader.  He built more than a successful business, he built people.  He helped build me.  Like so many that worked with Mike, he believed not only in my ability and my potential, but more importantly, he believed in me.  That helped me start believing in myself at a whole new level.

After working with Mike and Kruse & Associates in Nashville for three years, I was part of a small team that moved to Knoxville to start an office there. That’s a much thinner, younger and clean-shaven me on the left.  Then, moving to the right, you’ll see Marc, Mike, Donna and Phillip.  The three years we worked together in Knoxville was amazing.  Even though Mike still lived in Nashville, he spent a lot of time with us in Knoxville.  Getting time to work that closely with Mike was a career opportunity of a lifetime on top of being remarkably rewarding personally.  Working with Mike blurred the lines between personal growth and professional development. 

Mike was a humble man.  He often said “if you are really good, you don’t have to waste time telling people how good you are”.  Those of us who worked for Mike called comments like that “Kruse-isms”:  quips and quotes he said frequently.  Sometimes they were funny.  Sometimes they were profound.  All of them were quickly identified with Mike being Mike. 

I’ll finish with a story that shows the servant-mentality that was Mike Kruse.  Shortly after going to work with Kruse & Associates, I was at a new client’s office in Kingsport, Tennessee.  I had driven up in the morning and Mike was going to drive up later and meet me for dinner that night.   This was the first chance I had to work one-on-one with Mike since I joined the firm. 

It turned out that it was cold and snowy that entire day, but Mike made it up anyway through the tough weather.  After dinner, we decided to meet for breakfast at 7:00 at a Perkins next door to the hotel.  I was determined to be early for breakfast and make a good impression on “the big man” so I planned to be at the restaurant by 6:30.  Not only did Mike beat me to breakfast, he got up early enough to scrape the snow and ice off of my car….MY car.  The car of the new guy.  The car of the employee that had not yet done a thing for him or his firm.  Did I mention that he was the boss and that it was his name on the letterhead? That spoke more to me about his values and the values of his firm than anything he could have said. 

I told that story to Mike several years later.  He, of course, had no recollection of it.  It was just Mike being Mike.  Everyone that knew him has memories like that of “Mike being Mike”.

Most every great thing that has happened to me in my career has Mike Kruse’s fingerprints all over it.  I can’t begin to think what my career (or life) would be like without his influence.  He was not only very good to me, but he was very good to my family, too.  He always asked about Cindy and the boys and was genuinely concerned how they dealt with the moves we made for the firm.  I hope some day that Will and Sam are blessed to work with a man like Mike.

Now our family prays for Mike’s: Mary Jean, his wife of 48 years, their children and their grandchildren.  We pray for their peace in this time and that somehow they’ll be comforted by knowing the tremendous impact that Mike had on so many lives.  We miss you, Mike.

Off To College

I didn’t cry the entire way home, and I suppose that’s something.  Today, The Wife and I moved our oldest son into his dorm at college.  ($#!+, I’m getting old).  For full disclosure, he is only 30 minutes from home and about 5 minutes from where I work.  So, it isn’t as if he’s across the country or, Heaven forbid, Cleveland.  Whether around the world or around the block (everywhere I go, the Kids Wanna Rock – Bryan Adams, if you want him) or wherever he  may be, he’s still not home….pause, while I locate a Kleenex….

I suppose the emotion of the day (which started about a month before his high school graduation) comes from three things.

First, I could not be more proud of both of our boys.  They love their Lord. They are considerate and kind.  They know how to laugh.  They are smart.  They know how to face and overcome adversity.  All these things qualify The Tall One for success as he enters “The College Years”.

Second, I’m just going to miss him.  As a parent, you have to love your kids.  If you don’t answer “yes” on the application to the “Do you love your child?” question, then they don’t give you a kid, right?  So, loving your offspring is a relative (no pun intended) given.  Liking them, however, is not required.  I’ve met lots of people’s kids and I don’t know how their parents can stand some of them.  They are rude, selfish brats (just being real here).  Their folks probably threw a party when their spawn finally moved out.   I genuinely like our kids, however.

Some people say you can’t be a friend to your children and still be their dad.  I get that to an extent, but if you are lucky (as I am) as my boys get older the more I’ve been able to develop a relationship with them that is both dad and friend.  The Tall One and I enjoy sports together, share tastes in music, like the same movies and play golf together.  I’m simply going to miss him being around all the time….pause while I locate the box of Kleenex…

Studies show that men think about sex every 52 seconds.  You can question the accuracy of the results of that experi…no, they pretty much nailed it (no pun intended this time either).  The one thing that may rival how often men think about sex is how often we question our ability as a father.  As a husband, if you are doing that wrong, you have a wife to set you straight.  As a father, if your kids try to set you straight you introduce them to the "board of education".

That brings me to my final point: there is a sense of doubt that is likely unavoidable at a time when your child is moving into another phase of life.  Doubt that persistently asks the question: have you done enough as a father to prepare your son for “this”?  The answer is “no”.  There are a great many things that could have been done different, better, more often, less often, louder, softer, more strict, more lenient, etc., etc., a million times etc.  I mean we all can't be Ward Cleaver (I don't smoke a pipe) or Cliff Huxtable (I can't pull off those sweaters).

There are two things of which I am extremely confident, however.  One: My kids will never have a doubt that they are loved.  Two: However I may have fallen short, there is a God who loves them more than I do who is eternally capable of training them in the ways they should go. 

So now I’ll sit in the basement and watch pre-season football without The Tall One and hope his first night at college is all he wants it to be.  Does anybody know if Kleenex delivers?