Uncategorized

What My 11-year-old Son Taught me

Posted on by Phil Corbett

My 11-year-old son is kind of a genetic anomaly. My wife and I were pretty good students and are fairly intelligent, though I have a tendency to be clueless about a lot of things. Still, he is more than just a good student – he is a bit of a brain.

I say this with great humility – and fear!

Right now, I can go to Google or B.S. my way through his questions to sound like I know more than he does, but I know that day is coming when I will not be able to answer his questions, or even understand them. If my brain is up to the challenge, I expect to learn many things from him.

Recently, he taught me a lesson I hope to never forget – a life lesson.

He has just embarked on a 30-day trip, with his grandfather and his 12-year-old cousin, to explore the national parks out West. The trip was planned a year ago and has produced varying and vacillating levels of excitement and trepidation, mostly within his parents and siblings, and just prior to the trip in him, as well.

The night before they left was difficult on all of us. We had a little goodbye cookout at my father-in-law’s place. I knew my wife would cry. I figured my daughter and youngest son would cry. I knew I would be sad but would rationalize it and mostly focus on the wonderful opportunity he was going to have.

What I did not know was how sad he would be before he left.

He cried. He cried hard. Hard enough for us to question whether this was a good thing for him to do and whether he was just too young to be gone for this long. We were waiting for him to change his mind and say he did not want to go, but to his credit, he just asked us, through his tears, to head home. So we did, leaving him with his cousin and grandfather.

What impressed me was he showed the strength to embrace and express the intense sadness he was feeling, and still make the decision to carry on with his plans. I, on the other hand, would have tried to suppress the emotional part of it all and just focus on the positive aspects of the trip, to make the decision easier.

I love Star Trek and am proud to say I have passed that on to him. So to use a Star Trek reference, while I tend to be a bit more of a Vulcan when it comes to emotions, my son taught me what it means to be human.

I look forward to the academic concepts I will learn from him in the future, but I will treasure the life lessons.

By the way, he called us the first few nights and it was great to hear the excitement in his voice. Lately, because of spotty cellular service, we only hear from him every few days, if we are lucky.

I miss him dearly, but actually think it is a good thing we do not talk every day. It will make the stories and lessons he shares when he gets home all the more memorable.

Casting for a Cure

Posted on by Phil Corbett

How many people do you know who have been touched by cancer?

Let’s be honest, touched is not the right word. Cancer seems to hit so many families like a sledgehammer that saying touched doesn’t quite do justice.

How about hammered?

I know many families who have been hammered by cancer, including my own. We were fortunate and my dad and my wife’s dad have been cancer-free for some time now. Others I know have not been as fortunate.

The family of a good friend of mine was one of those not as fortunate. Five years ago, my friend and her siblings lost their mother, at the age of 56, to a yearlong battle with Multiple Myeloma. Though I know the loss of their mother still impacts them, and most likely always will, they were inspired by their mother and her cancer journey to hit back at cancer and use their grief to positively impact the lives of others, whether they are cancer patients, the families of cancer patients or the nurses, doctors and other medical staff who treat cancer patients and their families.

To fight cancer, they created the Greater Minnesota Fight for a Cure (GMFFC), an organization whose mission is to make a positive difference in the lives of those individuals and families affected by cancer.

As I have gotten to know my friend and her family the past several years, I have learned several things. First of all, I do not know if I have ever known four adult siblings as individually unique as these four. At the same time, there are many common threads woven through each sibling that there is no doubt they are family and they enjoy activities that bring families, friends and communities together.

These same characteristics are present in how they have chosen to fight cancer. Each sibling brings unique talents to the table but their preferred way of fighting cancer is through some of the favorite pastimes people enjoy and that bring families and communities together, with events such as the Volleyball Bash for a Cure, the Ronn Negaard Memorial Bean Bag Tournament and GMFFC Extreme Dodgeball Tournament.

The initial, and most prominent, event is Casting for a Cure, a fishing tournament for people of all ages and fishing skills. In four years, these four siblings, along with their spouses, children and other volunteers have been able to donate over $70,000 to various cancer-fighting resources because of Casting for a Cure. With this year’s tournament, to be held on Saturday, August 24th, they hope to bring that total to over $100,000.

Casting for a Cure, though, does more than just raise funds to fight cancer. Casting for a Cure brings hope and healing to families affected by cancer. Casting for a Cure encourages activities that bring families together. Even the Awards Ceremony and Celebration of Hope following the tournament is geared towards enjoying family and friends, with food, music, and outdoor activities for all to enjoy.

I have known the family only after their mother passed so I never knew their mother. All I know of her is through what others have said about her and, more importantly, through getting to know her children. She must have been a great woman because if what Edward Gardner says is true, that “it’s not what you take but what you leave behind that defines greatness,” then her children and their families have defined her well.

I can only imagine as their mother looks down on what she has left behind, she must be very proud.

P.S. If you like to fish, I encourage you to register for the tournament. There is even an online division for those of you who do not live in the St. Cloud area. For those of you who do not fish and live in the area, join us at the Blue Line Sports Bar and Grill in Sartell for the activities following the tournament. It will be well worth your time.

If you do not fish and will not be in the area on August 24th, but would still like to help this family fight cancer, consider making a donation or being a sponsor of the event.

For more information on the fishing tournament and this family’s story, please visit http://www.castingforacure.org.

Hope to see you on the 24th!

A Great Return on My Investment

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Recently, I invested some money in an endeavor many people may have thought was a waste of my hard-earned money. I have to admit, I was not even expecting to recoup my initial investment and really only got involved because it felt like the right thing to do.

I know. I know. Financial advisors will tell you investing on a feeling is not a very smart thing to do. This situation was different, though, and did not fit into any typical investment strategy.

Fortunately, only one week later, I received the prospectus on my investment and the outlook is very positive.

How much did I invest, you ask? Five dollars.

How much is my five dollars worth now? It is impossible to determine.

You see, one night at work, a woman came into the store visibly shaken and worried. She explained she needed to get to the other side of town and was not sure if she had enough gas to get there. She then asked if she could borrow some money for gas. I gave her five dollars.

A week later, she came back to the store and, not recognizing me, asked if the person who gave her the money was working. I said I was the one who gave her the money, however she did not catch what I had said. She continued on to say how much she appreciated the person helping her out. At this point, I decided to keep my identity hidden. When she asked if she could give me the five dollars to give to the person who helped her, I just said I had talked to him about it and he said he did not want the money. He just wanted her to do something for someone else sometime. She was very appreciative and asked if I could give the guy a card. I told her I would, so she gave me the card and left.

I was going to open the card after work but I ended up leaving it on the counter. Back at work several days later, I opened the card and this is what was printed on it:

A simple act of kindness has a beauty all its own. Thank you.

She also added a hand-written note saying:

It’s not often someone is willing to lend a stranger money. And I thank you. My name is Dawn. You helped restore my faith in humanity!

I do not believe I have ever gotten, or will ever again get, a better return on any monetary investment.

I tell this story for several reasons, hopefully none of which are seen as patting myself on the back. First and foremost, I am trying to hold myself accountable to what I wrote in my Gospel According to You post; I want my actions to be a statement of my beliefs.

The second reason: although giving the woman the money did help her out, my act was also one of self-interest. I do not often give money directly to people claiming to be in need because I am not sure how the money will be spent or if giving the money will make their situations better, and not worse. I prefer to give money to organizations whose mission is to help those in need. Still, I do not want to become jaded and be so miserly with my money that I won’t take a chance on giving someone a few dollars.

Yes, the return on my five-dollar investment was excellent. Excellent in that it helped the woman get to where she needed to go and restored her faith in humanity.

Maybe more importantly, excellent in that it reminded me what humanity is.

They Named the Field After Him

Posted on by Phil Corbett

I wrote this post 9 years ago. I repost it as a memorial to a man who influenced so many lives as a teacher and coach and continued to do so in retirement. 

Reeves passed away.

Just a few short weeks ago, I was fortunate to talk with Reeves at the Staples-Motley Athletic Hall of Fame celebration. His 1983 State Champion baseball team was inducted into the HOF. At the reception held after the program, Reeves was in rare form telling stories and telling jokes. The table he was sitting at was full, as was the standing room around it, by those who were impacted by him. There was a great deal of laughter and joy, and probably feelings of thankfulness for having him as a coach so many decades ago.

I imagine his funeral will be quite full, as well. Maybe more tears than laughter, but still feelings of thankfulness, and maybe some wondering of how we were so fortunate to have Reeves cross our paths in life.

I sure hope everyone has a Reeves in their life

What does it take to get your name on a ball field?

Well, in the current professional and big-time college sports arenas, getting your name on a sports venue takes big-time cash. Just in Minnesota, we have Target Field, Target Center, Xcel Energy Center, TCF Bank Stadium, and – take a deep breath – the Mall of America Field at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome.

In a small town, it takes a lot more than cash – it takes a lifetime of dedication, commitment, passion, and service to the sport you love.

Last week, I took a short daytrip to my hometown of Staples. In addition to visiting my parents, I attended the ceremony naming the high school baseball field after the coach for whom many of the high school baseball players graduating from Staples High School had the pleasure of playing.

From now on, when players and fans step onto the Staples-Motley High School baseball field, they will be walking on Jerry Riewer Field, though they could have also called it “Reeves Field”, because Reeves is what all of us call him.

Reeves was very successful as a coach, with a state championship and a runner up in baseball, and a state championship and a dominant program in cross country. He has been inducted into numerous halls of fame and has a cross country meet named after him. I could list all of his awards and his coaching stats but that information is available to anyone interested in looking for it.

I am more interested in sharing what he accomplished that is not written down in any record book.

I am more interested in the impact he had on those of us who played for him.

What is not written down is the fact that Reeves coached every level of baseball, from Little League to Legion, and sometimes all in the same summer.

What is not written down is the number of sandlot games Reeves organized so we had more opportunities to play baseball.

What is not written down are the countless phone calls Reeves made to us, asking us to show up to the game early, and with a shovel, so we could get the field ready to play a game.

What is not written down is how Reeves modified his van by taking out the back seats and building benches along the sides so he could drive the entire team to away games. (By the way, the benches had removable seats so all the equipment could be stored underneath.)

What is not written down is the memory of Reeves dragging the all-dirt infield at Pine Grove Park with his ’55 Chevy, using the springs of an old mattress as a drag.

What is not written down is the number of his players who teach their kids how to play baseball by saying “Reeves taught us…”

What is not written down is the care he took to prepare the field, no matter if it was for a high school tournament or a Pee Wee game.

Finally, what is not written down is the love of baseball so many of us have and pass on to our kids because of being coached by Reeves.

Twenty years from now, when future generations step onto Jerry Riewer Field, I hope someone takes the time to share with every fan and every ballplayer why the field is named after Reeves and remind them the impact one person with dedication and passion can have.

Congratulations, Reeves, and thank you!

Note: As always, if you like what you read, feel free (or, should I say, I am begging you) to share it with others and consider following my blog. I have been posting most every Wednesday, hoping what I write encourages those who read it to look more positively on the world and the human beings inhabiting it. Because a person’s Facebook posts only show up in a small percentage of their Facebook friends’ pages, the best way to make sure you get my blog post each week is to click on the Follow button and follow the directions. You will received a confirmation email with instructions on how to confirm your follow request.

My Favorite Eulogy

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Throughout my many years of being single, I had the opportunity to have many different roommates (some much more different than others).

Two of the most decent human beings I was fortunate enough to call roommates are Alex and Dan Schleper. The first time I was invited to their parents’ home for dinner I found out why. When people talk about small-town values, they are talking about Alex and Dan’s parents, both of whom grew up in small towns in the central Minnesota area before moving to the bigger city of St. Cloud.

When their dad died, Dan gave the eulogy at the funeral and, I must say, it was the best eulogy I have ever heard. With Father’s Day in mind, I would like to share a slightly shortened version of the eulogy with you today.

If I KNEW I would live to be 90, I would want it to be at a time of great world events and at the beginning of an era of great innovations and wondrous advancements in all areas.
I would want to live in a time of great baseball players in their prime like Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson, Mickey Mantle, Harmon Killebrew, and Kirby Puckett.
I would like to live in a time of Woodrow Wilson, FDR, JFK, Martin Luther King, and John the XXIII.

If I KNEW I would live to be 90, I would expect times of great sorrow to test my faith and character but which would also make me appreciate the joyful times.
I would like to come from modest beginnings to teach me how to make do, but also help me appreciate bountiful times.

If I KNEW I would live to be 90, I would like to grow up with a large family that has Christian values which would provide a moral compass and purpose to my life that would stand the test of time, rather than that of dissipation and aimlessness.
I would like to play baseball with my brothers.
I would like to learn an instrument… maybe an accordion.
I would like to help create something enduring, like a baseball field, or a baseball team.

If I KNEW I would live to be 90, I would thank God every day for the opportunity to do so.
I would carry a rosary.
I would like to serve my country and see some of the world.
I would like to be married by about 30 to a more worldly woman from a much larger metropolitan area… like Richmond.
Waiting till my later 30’s would be ok but it would have to be someone 9 or 10 years younger than me, smart, good looking, a card player and an award winning baker that makes the best pies in the world. Ok, maybe, that’s asking too much. Who could be that lucky?

If I KNEW I would live to be 90, I would like to have 4, or maybe 5, kids. It would be nice if at least one was a boy. I would make the commitment to send them to catholic schools no matter what. We would get on our knees and pray every night, and if the neighbor kids were still around, they would be welcome to join us.
I would want the respect of my coworkers and good friends.
I would want to dance with my daughter and play golf with my sons, brothers, nephews and nieces.
I would like to have a hole in one.
I would like to watch my sons, grandsons and nephews play baseball. Who am I kidding? I would like to watch ANY local high school, college or amateur team play ANY sport.

If I KNEW I would live to be 90, I would like to go to Casinos every once in a while with my wife and maybe some family or friends just for the fun of it.
I would like to bowl until I can’t break 150. I would like to golf until I can’t hit it 150.
I would like 8 grandkids to be proud of and to visit me often.
Yea, that would be a pretty good life.

If I live to be 90, I would love it if someone said at my funeral “He was a lot like his father.”

I would say I had lived a good life if the same could be said about me at my funeral. More importantly, I hope the same can be said of my two sons when they pass. I can think of no better testament to my job as a father.

I know the reality is not always as positive. There are many men who would consider it an insult, and rightly so, to be compared to their fathers.

Still, though the specifics of the eulogy would be different, the character, integrity and goodness Alex and Dan’s father displayed throughout his life should be emulated by all men, whether they are fathers or not.

Responding to Tragedy

Posted on by Phil Corbett

Sometimes, the most opportune time to find reasons to celebrate humanity is after a tragedy. It may be difficult to do so – and then again, maybe it isn’t so difficult.

Last Sunday, my neighbor’s brother was seriously injured in an accident in his shop at home. Saying he is lucky to be alive is an understatement.

Instead of taking the space to go into more detail of what happened, I will just encourage you to check out his CaringBridge site at http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/jayzierden.

What you will find there, as you would on most CaringBridge sites, is an outpouring of support, through prayers, kind wishes and offers of assistance.

You will find, amid some words of worry and trepidation of what the future might hold, many words spreading a theme of hope, of perseverance, of faith.

You will find a testament to the impact a person can have, that, for many, will only be fully realized by their loved ones at their funerals.

From my experience knowing my neighbor and her siblings, I would say they are a family who grew up valuing hard work and helping out. That has definitely carried on into adulthood for them. If a job needs to get done, they get it done. Better yet, if a job needs to get done for someone else, that probably gets done first.

For a man who is used to helping out others, it may not always be easy accepting the help from others, but when you are laid up in a hospital bed, struggling to move, you have little choice.

You have little choice but to find out the kind of structure others build on the foundation you have laid.

You have little choice but to find out the fruits that are harvested from the seeds you have sown.

You have little choice but to find out the numerous lives you have touched and the significant impact you have made on others because of the outpouring they give back.

There is still a long road of recovery for the family to travel. Lost work time, mounting medical bills, changes in family routines, and physical and emotional stresses, among many other things, will be obstacles on that road. Times like these, though, reveal character and build it, not only in the family going through the difficult times, but in the rest of us, as well.

I am not a believer in things happening for a reason. I believe things happen and how we choose to respond to those things gives meaning to those things. Our humanity will show itself no matter what. We get to choose whether it is the best parts of our humanity or the not-so-good parts.

I am blessed and honored to know a family such as my neighbor’s family and I am even more hopeful for humanity because of how they, and those who know them, are responding to this accident.

One final thought – though kind words at funerals and wakes are comforting to the families, why do we wait till it is too late to let people know the difference they have made?

Hopefully, the people who have touched us will not need to be lying in a coffin, or in a hospital bed, before they fully understand the value they have added to our lives.

P.S. If you like what you read, please consider following my blog and get each post sent directly to your email. Click on the “Follow” button and enter your email. An email will be sent to you with instructions for completing your registration. Also, please feel free to share the post with anyone you wish. I appreciate it.

If Jesus were alive today…

Posted on by Phil Corbett

The argument could be made that if Jesus were alive today, he would not need to die on the cross to save us. The public crucifixion he would receive daily through the media, from all directions, might be enough.

In our 24-hour news cycle, sound-bite, talking-points-driven world, a man challenging convention using parables and other messages requiring deeper reflection and thought would face many challenges getting his word out. Opposition would be mobilized within moments to attack him because his message would be upsetting many powerful apple carts. Clever Facebook posts distorting his message would become viral and the Twitter universe would be flooded with tweets and retweets disparaging him.

One side might call Jesus elitist, out of touch and insensitive in response to him saying, “the poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want, but you will not always have me.” (Mark 14:7) Another side might call him anti-family if it got out that his response to the request by one of his disciples to “permit me first to go and bury my father” was “follow me, and allow the dead to bury their dead.” (Matthew 8:21-22)

Fortunately, we have 2000 years of study and reflection to base our beliefs upon now. If any of us lived back then, though, could we honestly say if we would have been disciples or detractors after hearing Jesus speak? I know I am just glad I live now.

Unfortunately, in this day and age, people are still being persecuted for saying things that make others uncomfortable and for upsetting their apple carts.

It is not that we have to agree with what everyone says or that there are not times when there is a need to speak up and forcefully respond to what others say. Sometimes, though, it is just too easy to attack the person and distort the message.

That is why, no matter how frustrated or irritated I may get, I try to keep myself open to the messages of others that make me uncomfortable – that upset my apple cart. By doing so, I may strengthen my own beliefs and put back my apples in the same exact way, with more conviction than ever. I also might put them back in a different way with a better, though changed, understanding of my beliefs.

Either way, I will have grown from the experience.

My Family is Not Normal!

Posted on by Phil Corbett

What many people may have suspected for a long time was confirmed last week. My family is not normal.

We actually set a goal to be not normal and are very proud of it. We even celebrated the day it happened. I guess that makes us even more not normal.

What happened to relegate us to the not normal side of life?

On May 15, 2013, we became debt free, excluding our mortgage.

Two years ago, my wife and I were tired. We were tired of being an average American household with student loan debt, credit card debt and home equity loan debt. We were tired of just making monthly payments but never making much of a dent in our debt – often increasing it. We were tired of the financial conversations we had that led to frustration and fear and most often ended in an argument. Though I had gotten pretty good at the introductory-zero-percent-interest-credit-card-balance-transfer-offer shuffle, I was tired of trying to convince myself that by the end of the grace period we would have the balance paid off.

We were tired of drowning in debt.

So, on May 15, 2011, after reading The Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey, we decided that instead of hoping things would change in the future, we were going to make things change in the present. My wife and I, along with our kids, set out on a journey to become debt free. We cut up the credit cards. We began using cash for most of our purchases, though we still used our check cards.

Most importantly, we started to live on a written budget. Instead of running a report at the end of each month to find out where our money had gone (I am a Quicken nerd so everything we spend gets tracked), we sat down each month to decide where our money would go. If we did not have the money in the budget to buy something, we did not buy it. If we took in more money than we expected during a month or spent less than we had budgeted, we paid down our debt. In the past, we would always have been able to justify spending at least some of it – usually most of it – on something we thought we needed or deserved.

It was not easy. Early on, budget meetings could still be tense and we often had to have several meetings per month to rework the budget when unexpected expenses came up. Because we had the same goal, though, in time our budget meetings became less stressful and we were able to communicate much better regarding our financial situation.

The week before we made our last payment on our home equity loan, the last debt we needed to pay off, we were faced with an unexpected car repair bill. When I called my wife to tell her how much it was going to cost, she worriedly asked if it was going to delay us paying off our debt. I told her no. I reminded her car repairs happen and we had budgeted for them each month and whatever we didn’t spend went into our savings account. We had more than enough saved up, under car repairs, to pay the bill.

She said that was her moment of realization, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief, that our lives had changed.

So what is ahead for us? We will continue to live on a budget but the money left over at the end of the month will now go towards our savings, our retirement and other things we deem important. We will even start to budget money each month to go towards future vacations from which we will return home with only memories and not a credit card bill. We still need to pay off our mortgage, but because we no longer have a home equity loan, we will be able to get a much better rate and will be able to pay it off early.

What we are most excited about for the future, though, is knowing our children will experience living debt free and will hopefully continue to live debt free when they are on their own.

Oh, by the way, if you wondering how much we paid off, I will tell you, but I have to admit, I am proudly bragging a bit by sharing it. At the same time, I also want others in the same position to know becoming debt free is possible.

Drum roll please…. we paid off $57,626.65 in 24 months – exactly 731 days. But who’s counting?

We sure are!

P.S. If you are tired of being in debt, I strongly recommend reading The Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey and checking out the other programs he offers. The book gave us the framework and the tools to get out of the debt hole we had dug, though many find going to his Financial Peace University classes helps them stay accountable. I also listen to podcasts of The Dave Ramsey Show for encouragement and inspiration. Hearing other people’s stories about becoming debt free made me even more determined to become debt free.

P.S.S. As always, if you like what you read, please share it with others and consider following my blog. I have been posting every Wednesday, hoping what I write encourages those who read it to look more positively on the world and the human beings inhabiting it. Because a person’s Facebook posts only show up in a small percentage of their Facebook friends’ pages, the best way to make sure you get my blog post each week is to click on the Follow button and follow the directions. You will received a confirmation email with instructions on how to confirm your follow request.

Before there was Google…

Posted on by Phil Corbett

I am not very mechanically inclined but, every so often, I need to dismantle my washing machine in order to fix a “no spinning” problem. A few months ago, I dismantled my dishwasher because the dishes seemed to be dirtier coming out than they were when we put them in.

I am very proud to say I have been somewhat successful at fixing both appliances and getting the most out of them.

Where did I acquire the knowledge to accomplish such impressive feats of appliance repair?

Google. I typed, “washing machine will not spin” and “dishwasher not cleaning” in the search bar and in each instance, before I knew it, a video illustrating exactly what I needed to do was playing.

With a world full of knowledge at our fingertips, it is almost difficult to imagine what people did before the Internet when they had a life problem to solve.

I know what my mom did. She actually talked to a live person – Pat Olstad.

Still fresh in my mind, one case in point occurred nearly 40 years ago when I was in grade school at Sacred Heart Elementary in Staples, MN.

Sitting in class one morning I began to feel the need to scratch the area of my body upon which I was sitting. This need became so overwhelming I asked to be excused to the bathroom to remedy the problem. Having the privacy required, I proceeded to scratch in manner I figured would sufficiently do the job. Unfortunately, any relief was only temporary.

Possessing a touch of Catholic guilt, I wondered what venial misdoings I had committed to warrant such an affliction and was anticipating my next confession to cleanse my soul. As each successive scratching session became more intense, followed by an even more intensive need to scratch, I replayed each day since my last confession to determine what I may have done to deserve this wrath. As the plague progressed, a genuine and heartfelt Act of Contrition followed each trip to the bathroom.

Well, the torment relentlessly continued throughout the day and even past the final bell. The moment I got home, I dramatically shared my story with my mom only to learn each of my seven siblings reported similar experiences.

A call to Pat Olstad solved the mystery. Pat asked my mom the right questions and soon the problem became clear. It seems the last time my mom had washed the whites, she included the living room curtains, which happened to be made out of FIBERGLASS!

So what does this story have to do with anything important?

Other than hopefully providing you a little bit of humor and a little bit of advice (scratching when you have fiberglass in your skin only makes things worse – much worse!), it reminds me that though using technology can often be a more efficient way of getting the information we need, it can’t solve all of our problems.

Often times the best thing to do is just call up the Pat Olstads in our lives and have a real conversation.

No teeth? No problem.

Posted on by Phil Corbett

I am impressed!

Through her recent travels, my wife has become very adept at navigating airports and the entire airline process. Whether it is finding the cheapest flights, finding a place to park or knowing the best places to eat in the airport, I have a feeling the next time we take a flight together, I will be keeping my mouth shut and just following her lead. (That is if I am smart enough, which is questionable.)

There is still room for improvement regarding ground transportation, though. She has made great strides in this area but, from time to time, she finds herself in some interesting predicaments, if not scary.

To be fair, her struggle to overcome her directional disability is a daunting challenge because she inherited it from a close relative. Once, on a trip to Milwaukee, this close relative chose to follow a car to Chicago instead of taking the Milwaukee exit because the driver of the car ahead seemed to know where she or he was going.

Well, on a recent trip to Chicago, this disability once again reared its ugly head. My wife was given detailed instructions on how to get from the airport to the place at which she was going to be staying. She made it through the airport all right but things went a little south when the instructions told her to take the bus to Lot F and take the train from there. As she entered the bus loading area, she noticed a group of people getting on a bus and she chose to follow them. After 15 or so minutes on the bus and no sign of a Lot F, she figured she had erred.

Realizing her mistake, my wife got off the bus at a train station and attempted to figure out how to get back to the airport to start all over again. She asked the bus driver and an employee of a coffee shop for help but for a variety of reasons, neither was able to provide much assistance.

Lost, scared, and alone in an unfamiliar city, her anxiety increasing with every minute she spent in the rather small train station, she fought back a panic attack as she walked from wall to wall looking at the maps to determine a way out of her nightmare. Feeling like a complete idiot (her words, not mine), her distress should have been obvious to the others at the station, but unfortunately, most were either oblivious to what was going on or seemed to be too busy staring into their smartphones to offer any assistance.

Finally, she noticed the only person talking to anyone in the station and looking friendly was a scruffy, disheveled man, his face weathered and wrinkled, who was missing his two front teeth. She asked him for help and to her relief, the man calmed her down and took the time to explain how to get back to the airport. After about 20 minutes of explaining what she needed to do, the man even walked her to the bus stop.

Feeling grateful to this Good Samaritan, my wife offered him some money for the help he provided, which he initially declined but reluctantly accepted after my wife insisted.

As they parted company, the man cautioned my wife to not talk to strangers because there are some scary people out there.

I wonder if the scary people to whom he was referring were the scruffy, disheveled people, with weathered and wrinkled faces, missing their front teeth or the nicely-dressed people with smartphones.