I didn't have to say it like that...

A few days ago I wrote a blog about how to take criticism.

After writing the post I had planned to do a follow-up on how to give advice. The only thing is that last night I proved to myself that I still have MUCH to learn on the subject.

At work I tend to be the definition of "by the book," simply because I don't see grey areas open to debate. I don't see exceptions to the rule. All I tend to see is it is wrong or it is right; but last night I learned that sometimes all right can be all wrong.

Last night I made a critical comment a co-worker in my typical truth-not-tact manner but when I heard the response from my co-worker I realized just how rude my comment came across.

Later in the shift I approached this co-worker to apologize for my behavior only to find out that this had been only the latest in a long string of actions that had made this person think that I hated her.

Here was a co-worker that I had trained; someone who looked up to me; and nearly all I have offered from the first day I met her was hurtful criticism. Upon learning how my actions and words had affected her I felt that even the best apology I could offer was not nearly enough.

Have you ever had a moment that you knew immediately was going to be a turning point for your life? A moment that you would look back on in the future and say, "This is where it all changed?" Last night was one of those moments.

Last night I realized that it is not enough to simply speak the truth.

Last night I learned that I didn't have to say it like that.

"Well, you didn't have to say it like that..."

Criticism.

Even though I understand the importance of being corrected when I make a mistake I still won't say I like criticism. And if the criticism comes in a particularly harsh form it is even harder to take.

But...

One thing I have learned about criticism is that it is up to me to weigh out the correction being given; to separate the facts from the frustration.

Let me put it this way.

Let's say that I was invited to make a keynote speech at some big event (hey, it could happen). Now let's also say that as I am preparing for my appearance I brush up against something and get a big smudge on my face.

On my way to the stage I run into two people; my best friend in the whole world and my worst enemy in the whole world.

My friend, not wanting to embarrass me in front of my enemy, says nothing to me about the mark on my face. However, my enemy takes advantage of the opportunity by emphatically pointing out my problem.

In the end, which person helped me more? My friend who chose to be nice but would have let me take the stage in front of thousands of people with a huge mark on my face, or my enemy who rudely criticized me but allowed me the opportunity to clean my face before taking the stage?

In the end, the best thing for me is to accept the truth about a situation regardless of how polite or kind the delivery comes across.

The next time someone criticizes you... try to find any truth that might be hiding in their message... even if they could/should have said it nicer.

When societal taboos lead to mob violence: the case of Casey Anthony

For the record: I am totally sick of all this irrational hate for Casey Anthony that everyone keeps spewing all over the place.

I get it. Despite the fact that there was absolutely no evidence that Anthony murdered her daughter you still think she is guilty; so guilty that jurors are going into hiding and innocent women are being violently attacked for the "horrendous" crime of looking a little too much like Casey Anthony.

But where does all this hate come from?

Unless there was some proverbial smoking gun evidence that I didn't see come out in the court case there is nothing at all, whatsoever, that proves Casey Anthony did anything more than cover up the death of her daughter.

Don't get me wrong. I am not condoning the cover-up of a child's death; but even something as horrible as covering up a death by disposing of your daughter's body in a trash bag is not first degree, premeditated murder.

Is that where all the hate comes from? From the fact that a mother could callously dispose of the body of her dead daughter?

I would agree that a mother is expected to protect her child and that it SHOULD be unacceptable behavior for a mother to throw out her child like so much household trash; but should there be at least as much contempt for a father that ACTUALLY murders his family?

That is a bit of a rhetorical question.

Earlier this year a man named Chris Coleman was convicted of the premeditated (and meticulously planned) murder of his wife and two young sons. Yet, despite the fact that there was ample evidence to soundly convict this man of such a horrendous crime the verdict was barely a blip on the national news scene.

Coleman devised an elaborate scheme that involved an imaginary woman that he created to send threats to his own wife for months to set up the night that he strangled his wife and sons in their sleep... all so he could start over with a new woman without having to get a divorce.

So how is it that our society has judged Casey Anthony guilty and yet passed right over the crime of this man?

I honestly do not understand and welcome any theories on the subject.

Helicopter Parents, and why I refuse to be one.

Helicopter Parents.

You know the ones I am talking about.

Constantly hovering around their child, ready to intervene should anything happen to their precious little angel.

The term "helicopter parent" was invented by Foster W. Cline, M.D. and Jim Fay in the book Parenting with Love and Logic: Teaching Children Responsibility.

In Scandinavian areas these parents a named curling parents (referencing the sport of curling) because they try to sweep any obstacles that show up in the child's path.

It seems that the term "lawnmower parent" is also used to indicate parents who mow over anything and anyone in their child's way in order to make a smooth path.

As a dad I am just going to say that this type of behavior is downright stupid.

I want my boys to grow up knowing that their success will rest on their shoulders and that if they want to make a name for themselves they need to get their rear in gear and make something happen.

Life is not always easy and it is not always fair, but it isn't supposed to be.

This may sound a little counter-intuitive, but I firmly believe that it is our failures that produce character and make us who we are.

When I look back on my life I see that it was not success that helped me grow and mature. It was not winning that makes us better, it is the struggle.

There are even examples in human physiology.

In weight lifting, the fastest way to build muscle is to lift until failure, or to lift a weight until your muscle literally gives out.

Don't get me wrong.

It is not that I want my boys to suffer; and if I thought that suffering was the end I probably would want to do everything in my power to protect them from the hardships of life.

But suffering is not the end.

I will teach my boys that failure is only what you make of it. That failing is not the end of the story if you don't let it be. I will teach my boys that failure is just one step toward success as long as they don't give up.

I will teach my boys that competition can be healthy for them even if they lose - even if they don't make the team.

Why?

I want my boys to grow in character as they grow in stature. Because I want my boys to become men, not just boys dressed up like men.

Because I don't want them to grow up helpless.

And that is why I refuse to be a Helicopter Parent; because I just love them too much not to let them fail.

Real men don't drink Shirley Temples.

I currently work in the food service industry, so I get some strange culinary requests from time to time.

These requests range from intriguing to down right disgusting, and some even make me a little mad. One of the requests that makes me a little mad is when a grown man orders a Shirley Temple.

Shirley Temple - the drink

For those who are not familiar with the drink, it is lemon-lime soda flavored with a little grenadine (cherry flavored syrup) and topped with a Maraschino cherry and is named after Shirley Temple, the curly headed child star of the 1930's.

In addition to being a bit of a pain in the butt to make, I find it down right contemptible that grown man would order a drink named after America's First Sweetheart.

Is it any wonder that Hollywood can't find any American actors to play superhero roles.

But what do you really expect when our men are sipping on Shirley Temples rather than pouring a more manly drink down their gullet?

My advice to the men and young men out there... order a real drink.

Not saying it has to be an alcoholic beverage, but if you feel the need to get all crazy on the mixed drinks can you at least wet you whistle with an Arnold Palmer instead?

Is that too much to ask?