Crazy As a Run Over Dog ... But Don’t Blame It All On the Animals

By Mike Rowland

For many of us, life is about the stories that make up our past, provide context for the present, and give hope for our future. As an art form, storytelling has fallen victim to the smart phone, the computer tablet, and the video game. We just don’t take time anymore to pass along the stories that define our culture, our heritage, and our character. Crazy as a Run Over Dog is one man’s attempt to renew the tradition of legacy building by telling the stories of everyday experiences that remind us we are all more alike than we are different.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: May 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483411019

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Copyright © 2014 Mike Rowland.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1102-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-1101-9 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 4/24/2014

Contents

Dedication

Foreword

MY CHILDREN

A Letter to Brian

A Letter to Steven

A Letter to Meghan

For Those Things Money Can’t Buy

Fatherhood Isn’t all it’s Cracked up to Be

My Thighs Hurt, I Have a new PSA, and my Son is Getting Married

The Choice to be Happy

The Great American Man-Dog Camping Trip

A Letter to Uncle Sam

And all This Time I Thought I was the Teacher

What the Sailor’s Creed Means to Me

The Box, an Address, a Sheep’s Skin, and Where’s my Check?

Emotions Only a Parent can Understand

A Letter to Morgan

THE C WORD

The Family Conference Call that Changed Everything

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

Rainbows, Cracker Barrel, and Goodbye Mama

The Nicest Thing Anyone has Said to Me

Today May be the Only Day

The Right way to Treat People

Stick a Fork in Me; I’m Done!

My How Time Flies

ME AND THE MISSUS

For Better or Worse or Death do us Part

How I Dodged the Valentine’s Bullet

The 10K Road Race, Kayaks, and Bicycles

Top Ten Reasons We are Still Married

If I Had Only One Friend Left

Remembering Lot and my Ice Cream Fix

The Miracle of Two Ducks and the World’s Greatest Grass Cutting Partner

VACATION TIME

When Life was Simple

Them Hills Have Eyes

Whatever Happened to Randolph Scott?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

The Importance of Vocabulary in a Friendship

The Adventures of Mike and Pat

The Beverly Hillbillies Ain’t Got Nothin’ on Us

FAMILY TIMES

All Dogs go to Heaven

If it Ain’t Broke, Don’t Fix It

Birthdays, Vacation, and Other Odds and Ends

Ego, Golf, and a College Education

Memories That Make You Smile

Parenting, Homemade Biscuits, and the Empty Nest

Summon Your Courage Courtesy of the Internet

The Case of the Missing Flag

You Just Can’t Beat the Love of a Good Dog

Whew! That was Close

Bacon and Egg Sandwiches, a Dirty Old Egg Sucking Dog, and Memories of my Mother

Born to Swim and Another Year Goes By

My Own Little Sack of Rocks to Tote Around

Rolling in the Grass With my Dog

That Lake Heron Seems Familiar

The Man Cave and my Best Friend

HOLIDAYS

A Mother’s Day to Remember

A Father’s Day gift that Money won’t Buy

From Thanksgiving to Christmas – With Love

You Can’t Make This Stuff Up

Those Things for Which I am Thankful

Another Year of Things for Which I am Thankful

Keeping a Thanksgiving Secret isn’t as Easy as it Looks

The Greatest Story Ever Told

It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas

Ode to Christmas

The Christmas Gift That Keeps on Giving

What Christmas is to Me

The Sights and Sounds of a Rowland Christmas

Acknowledgements

Dedication

For my mother.

I wish you could be here to see this.

Foreword

I WAS SITTING AT AN OUTDOOR gathering shortly after moving to a new town where my family and I were beginning the process of making new friends. Being the local high school principal helped, but I suspect building new relationships isn’t any easier for adults than it is for children. The month was November. The year escapes me.

Seated at my table was the publisher of a local newspaper. It just so happened that his wife was a teacher at my school, and being the opportunist that I am, I leveraged that relationship to let him know that I might be interested in writing an opinion piece for the paper on a regular basis if the opportunity ever arose.

As fate would have it, his newspaper had an opening for a community columnist. He recommended I send a sample or two of my work so he could share it with his editor. The rest, as they say, is history.

Some people write books to tell stories, both fiction and fact. Others out of some deep desire to be published. This book is a compilation of some of my favorite columns over the years. Mostly, the words I have written share stories about my own life and how it connects to the world in some meaningful way. My opinions are always my own and never meant to hurt feelings or be demeaning to other people. Too many times, opinionists like myself believe the First Amendment gives us the right to say anything without regard for how it impacts others. I couldn’t disagree more.

So if I have offended you in any way, please accept my sincerest apology. It has never been my intention to convince you to think like I do but rather to encourage you to think. Period.

I hope you enjoy reading some of what has otherwise become a weekly therapy session for me. In the following pages, it is my desire that you will find comfort, tears, laughter, and shared experiences.

Mostly, I hope you find something to think about.

My Children

A Letter to Brian

TODAY MY YOUNGEST SON WILL GRADUATE from high school. As with his brother before him, I am extremely proud of this accomplishment. In Georgia, one third of all students still do not finish high school. Consequently, doing so is a greater accomplishment than one might at first imagine.

I have had the neat experience of watching first hand both of my boys grow up through high school. I handed the first one his diploma, and later this morning I will do the same for the little one, who by the way, is not so little anymore.

The entire experience is at the same time sad and exciting. I thought about trying to describe it exactly, but I figure that only a parent with a similar experience would really understand. You will just have to trust me on that one.

More to the point: The Saturday morning after each of my sons completed his junior year, I began a year-long journey with them of writing one letter per week.

As you might imagine, most weeks I was faithful, but as fate would have it, some weeks found obstacles in the way of my lofty goal. In any event, of the 52 ensuing weeks, I probably wrote them more than 30 letters.

As with my first son, the culmination of this labor of love will involve me copying the letters to a CD and slipping that into one of his bags as he leaves for college. Included in that package will be a letter wishing him well and explaining the significance of the CD.

It is my hope that he will find the time while away from home to read through the letters at his leisure. It took me a year to write them, and most are filled with fatherly advice. I expect it to take some time for him to read them all, but hopefully reading one will coincide with some significant question in his life, and having me around in this way will help guide him to some of the answers of life.

What follows is from that last letter, which coincides with the milestone of high school graduation.

Dear Son,

One year ago I began the journey of writing you weekly during your senior year of high school, and I must tell you that the experience has been more powerful for me than I could have imagined. I expected to share with you great pearls of wisdom, and while I have done that, I am the one who has received the blessing of clarifying my thoughts and dreams for both of us.

Today as you reach another milestone in your life, I share these final thoughts about this day and those to come in your future. I hope you will keep this letter close. While it may not be the most profound advice for living, it does represent the best thinking I can muster given my own life experiences.

From this minute on, always look forward. Reflecting on the past can sometimes lead to keen insight regarding the future, but dwelling on it is a sure recipe for depression and self-pity. I am reminded of what happened to Lott as he took his family from the city with express directions not to look back. His wife did and she instantly turned to a pillar of salt. I may be misrepresenting the symbolism of this event, but it helps to remind me of the foolishness of looking back.

Never hurt anyone on purpose. Like it or not, intend to or not, you will hurt people. Unfortunately, it comes with the human experience. Understand that getting hurt is also part of the human experience, and that will happen to you as well. I wish I could insulate you from the hurt, but I cannot. I do believe that the salve that eases the wounds of human disappointment rests solely in where you place your trust. Do not place your faith in people. They will always disappoint you. Place your faith in God, and you will learn to love people even with all of their faults.

In the final analysis, I have tried to think of one parting nugget to give you that will be the key to unlocking the door of success in your life. I keep coming back to this one simple truth. Be happy.

Now, I am not talking about the kind of happiness that comes from momentary, earthly gain. A new job will make you happy for the moment. A new house will make you happy for the moment. So will a pretty girlfriend, a new boat, immoral living, and loud music.

I am talking about the deep-seeded happiness that comes from spiritual discipline, commitment to others, and service above self. Your generation represents the best of times and the worst of times. You have so many opportunities available to you that never existed for me. That is exciting.

On the other hand, there are so many things out there competing for your time and talent that it scares me to death to think of how you will filter through it all. Not all of the things in which you are invited to partake are good. Evil is still very much alive in our world, and it can find you when you least expect it.

May God grant you the power of discernment so that you might know the difference between those things that will bring you lasting peace and contentment and those that will destroy you with momentary happiness.

Finally, your mother and I love you very much, and that will never change. We will always hold you responsible for your thoughts, words, and deeds, but you will likewise always have a home to come to when you need comfort and safety. That will never change either.

Good luck in your quest to find what works for you, and just in case I have forgotten to tell you lately, you are a fine young man. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.

All my love,

Dad

A Letter to Steven

I HAVE TWO SONS, AND FOR all practical purposes, they are grown men. They are very different in the way they are hard wired. They have chosen different paths into their future, but I am equally proud of them both.

Obviously, I do not know much about rearing daughters. Arguably, however, I have to believe that growing sons into contributing members of a complex society is different than doing so for girls.

Not, better, worse, or more complicated, mind you; just different.

The Good Lord has granted me great opportunities in life, and one of those was to hand each of my sons his high school diploma. I won’t even try to explain what that feels like. I really cannot think of words that would do the event justice.

I am not sure what possessed me to do this, but I wrote each of my sons one letter each week during their final year in high school. I saved the letters and gave them to each child all at one time.

The truth is I don’t know if they ever read any of them or not. We have never really talked about it.

But, regardless of any impact it may have had on each of them, that little project was one of the more powerful experiences in my life. If you have children, I encourage you to write them letters. It may mean little to them at the time, but it will change you forever.

This morning, my older son will graduate with a degree in chemistry from GC&SU. Can you believe that? Chemistry. He is the brains in this outfit. I had to Google chemistry so that I could spell it.

Classified Ad: Recent college graduate looking for gainful employment in the field of chemistry. Looking to earn own way. Dad needs a break.

Sorry, I just couldn’t help slipping that in.

It goes without saying that I am proud of his accomplishment, so I thought I would take one more stab at a letter to my son:

Dear Son,

I wish I knew the words to say adequately how proud we are of you today. I am a little miffed at the college, however, because they obviously do not understand the Rowland tradition of father handing sons their diploma. I would have thought they would at least have asked if I was interested.

The truth is, however, the entire act of you receiving a credential from someone outside the family is symbolic of one of the great lessons of life. The apron strings that link us to our children become shorter and more tenuous as you grow into adulthood. While I will always be near with a watchful eye, you must now begin the journey of finding your own way.

I did take the liberty of using the newspaper to get out a classified ad so that you might find gainful employment. Hey, if you can’t use your influence to help out the family, then what good is having it? Right?

All kidding aside, what follows is as much fatherly advice as I can fit into a few lines. If you ever need more, you always know where to find me.

First, a man’s character is the only thing that differentiates him between obscurity and greatness. Starting anew is kind of like getting that first driver’s license. The first day your driving record is perfect. The only thing you can do from that point forward is mess it up. By the way, you will mess up. We all do. Your character is the salve that heals the inevitable wounds of life. Covet and protect it. It may very well be the most powerful tool you will use in your relationship with others.

Secondly, accept the fact that life’s rewards are not always immediate. Don’t ask me to explain it. Just save yourself a lot of disappointment by accepting the fact that much of what you will accomplish in life is more a factor of your ability to persevere than it is any singular event. Tiger Woods may win the Masters, but few people who watch him put on the coveted green jacket see the countless hours of practice and preparation they combine with opportunity to make greatness.

One other thing: I hope you make a lot of money. If you do, give most of it away. Money in and of itself does not accomplish much. What you do with it is your legacy. If you never make much money, that’s okay, too. In either case, give some of it to others who do not have the advantages you have been afforded. One of the things that is wrong with this world is that we too often allow our focus to be about what’s in it for me. What’s in it for you will depend on how you invest your time, talents, and gifts in others. Invest wisely, but above all, invest.

Finally, twenty-six years ago I remember walking up to my father, putting my arm around his shoulder and asking the question, How does it feel to see your only son graduate from college? After all this time, I cannot at all remember what he said.

But, I know how he felt.

One last thing: I went to school to become a teacher. As far as I know, there has been no one else in our family to hold that distinction. You are a chemist. I don’t think we have any of those either. Congratulations on your decision to go places where none of us have been. There is a picture that hangs on the wall in my office that speaks perfectly to my hope for your future. It reads Don’t be afraid to go out on a limb. That is where the fruit is.

God bless you in your endeavors as you set out to make your mark on the world.

All my love,

Dad

A Letter to Meghan

THESE ARE EXCITING TIMES AROUND THE Rowland household. I haven’t told you this, but my oldest son has accepted a graduate assistantship at Florida State University. Apparently, he has gotten himself accepted into the doctoral program in analytical chemistry, and get this…they are going to pay him to do it.

Go figure.

Anyway, we are all proud of him for his accomplishment, but I have to tell you that I am not at all sure how I feel about him actually leaving home to make his way in the world. And, if you think I have issues, you should talk to his mother.

We have until August to sort through all of that, and I am sure I will have more to say about his adventures in the future.

For now, however, the most exciting part of his life, to me, is the fact that he has found his soul mate. That’s right. The young lady he has been dating for the past few years is going to FSU with him,