It's summertime!

When I was a kid I just loved summertime (as did probably most of you reading this). Summertime meant sleeping in past 7 AM, playing outside 'til well past dark and spending as much time as possible in the pool, especially when we lived in Florida and there was no such thing as a cool day in July. It was also the time of the great family road trip up I95 where we would inevitably get stuck on the Jersey Turnpike at noon with temperatures approaching one billion degrees (okay, maybe a hundred, but it felt like a billion) in the back of a Ford LTD station wagon; out of dad's reach, but also beyond any wisp of the air conditioner. But it was worth the heat, because we were heading to Connecticut to see my Nana and Pop-pop, the mountains and the streams, and the blueberries and apple trees of summer.

As I look back, my favorite memories started each year at the end of May. Oh, I enjoyed school; probably better than most kids my age (I was a bit of a geek you see), but it was during those three magical months that learned about life. I learned how to swim. I learned to play tennis. I went to church camp, soccer camp and Boy Scout camp. And it did not stop as I grew older; the "camps" just got better. In 1976 there was a math, computer and science program at the University of South Florida that opened my eyes to the reality that I was not the only geek in the world. And then, my junior year of high school I was accepted into the greatest summer camp in the universe, the North Carolina Governor's School; eight weeks on a college campus studying advanced choral music, philosophy and girls (the last part was not officially on the curriculum, however, being a former geek, it was a major change for my self esteem). Rounding out my reasons for summer being the greatest season was the summer of 1987, when I met my wife and best friend during summer stock theater.

Now we have three children of our own, and that break between grades has a whole new meaning. For my wife and I, it means no more carting children to school or staying up late helping with three sets of homework (I think we have done more homework over the past 12 years than we ever did in school ourselves). There is time to work on a puzzle all day long or take a hike around the lake. Personal projects take a priority and the only books they read are those they choose for themselves. And, for a few precious months each year, it means we can watch the kids just being kids.

- Ken

The first copy...

There are moments of your life you look back and say, wow, that was exciting. One of those moments occurred today when I sold the first copy of my story. Yes, today was the day of the counter on the Lulu.com account page went from 0 to 1. It is hard to describe the feeling you get when you realize someone was curious enough to want to see what the story was all about. I have no idea who the first reader is, but I want to say thank you for becoming a milestone in this chapter of my life.

Now that it's published...

So the first version of my blog has now been published as a book. I have left the first blog entry on the site as a memory of how this all started and a reminder to myself that from humble beginnings came a great story. For those of you who are new to this blog, please enjoy reading the first entry, it is a predecessor to the first chapter of my book (click here to preview the book form of the same).

My family and friends are already asking, "what comes next?" And to be honest, I am not sure. The "tale" continues. I just flew in tonight after a week home in NC. Work is still in Michigan, and even though we are in a dismal economy, job security is spelled ROAD WARRIOR. And so it continues.

I think the first chapter of the new story will go something like this... "It's summertime!"

At least I'm not hauling nitroglycerine!

Most of you reading this may not remember (or even have seen, except on TV-Land) the show Little House on the Prairie, but for those of you that do, there were several episodes where Pa Ingalls had to take on additional work to make ends meet on the farm. Pa had to do that a lot, going away for months at a time doing all sorts of jobs. Caroline and the kids would wait for him to return, and just when it looked like he was never coming back, he would come home and all would be well. In this particular episode, he and Mr. Edwards had to haul nitroglycerine to a mine quite a ways from their home. The trip was dangerous under normal conditions and even more so with the explosives.

I tell my family and friends when they ask how I am these days, "Well, at least I'm not hauling nitroglycerine!"

I am one of the many "21st Century Pa Ingalls" in the global market. And this is my story (my humble apologies to Charles Dickens), "A Tale of Two Cities..." In this case the cities are Raleigh, NC, my home, and Troy, MI, my job. Why would I deliberately put myself 750 miles from those I love most? Aaah, now we have the beginnings of the story.

It all started with some investors, a bubble economy, and really bad timing...oh, and did I mention, this was not 2009. No, this story started a little farther back. It all started September 14, 2001, 3 days after one of the darkest days in US History. No bailouts, no forgiveness, just an economic nightmare that for some of us has taken almost a decade from which to recover.

- Ken