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Well, it was really cool watching the excitement my dad had when he discovered an old buddy from his regiment living about 45 minutes from his home. Between the two of them, they pulled together quite a collection of items from their service years in the 1950’s. They had been stationed together in Japan during the occupation, and were both held over to serve a second term when the Korean Conflict began. Dad was only 2 weeks from his discharge when he was ‘frozen’ for another three and a half years. He served seven years in all.

The two of them had a lot of fun remembering and reminding one another of the things they had forgotten, but that came out when they were together.

As my dad had gotten older, his mention of his years and events in the army had become more frequent. You could see the pride he had for his service.

My dad was always one to go over board reminding someone about anything. He had told us all several times there would be no need to get a tombstone or grave marker. He wanted the marker the army would supply at his death. It was another point of pride for him.

I spent some time repairing old photos he had in Photo Shop and pulling what information was still available about old ships and places from the internet. He had even pulled out his old uniform and worn it on several occasions. We thought it a bit quaint, or even silly. But dad sure didn’t. He put on his uniform, and wore it with all the dignity and spit-n-shine of his active duty years in the 50’s.

Well, dad died a couple of months ago. It was sudden, but dad had lived a good full life. He was a great dad. Now it is time for his tribute.

But, it seems there will be no tribute for dad from the army. No. I just talked to mom this morning for Mother’s Day. She told me the Veteran’s had refused the grave marker.

I sure am glad dad didn’t see this. His pride went with him. We will remember his service, even if his country will not.

The world has changed a lot since American blood was shed in Korea. Now, the Korea they died for is even in jeopardy.

But know this: Fifty years ago, your brothers died for freedom on fields in Korea. My dad was with them. He was proud to do his duty. He served his country.

May this tribute stand for him where his country fails to remember.

So be it.

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Have you ever sat thinking about something that happened to you in the past, even years ago, and felt all the emotions of the moment all over again?

Boy, I sure have. And that remembered moment can ruin the day I’m having now! Is that not bizarre?

I can remember when I was around twelve years old, before my voice changed, and I was singing in a group. We were at camp standing around a campfire. There was this really, really cute girl in front of me. She turned around and said to me, “You have a very nice voice.” Ok, maybe I was a late bloomer for one, but I know by what I said to her that I was a complete idiot.

I responded to her, “I know,” with all the graces of a complete moron.

What on earth was I thinking?

Was I always that stupid?

What ever happened to “Thank you,” or “You’re very kind,” or even “Well, you’re very cute. What’s your name?”

For crying out loud, I could have said almost anything EXCEPT what I did say!

So, any time I want to feel absolutely ridiculous, I can just think of that moment. It’s amazing how emotions work in the first place. It’s even more amazing how they work with our memories–and that they can be just as powerful when the moment is remembered.

Power and Control come to my mind when I think about emotion. Emotion can be completely crippling. It can also drive us to the point that it even alters our personality.

Most of us have a certain level of confidence. Some more, some less. It is wired in directly with how we are feeling about ourselves at any given point. It establishes the life background of healthy pride that carries us. When it is damaged or attacked, it shakes us at the very core of our emotional stability.

I call it my stupid button. Do NOT press my stupid button.

I can be having an entirely un-eventful day, or even a great day, and have it totally changed when my stupid button is pressed.

My stupid button is wired directly to both my established level of confidence and my personal pride. When you press my stupid button, both of these core elements in my stability are attacked simultaneously. This triggers the emotion that we commonly call embarrassment.

Well, being embarrassed by itself is one thing. But FEELING embarrassed because someone made us feel stupid, consequently shaking our very foundation, is like pushing the last radioactive rod into the reactor. If something isn’t done quickly, there will be an explosion.

This is where I’ve told people things like, “Go outside and practice falling down. I’ll be out in a minute,” and I wasn’t joking. This will take a full grown man back to a teenager in a chest pushing contest of, “come on, punk. Let’s go punk.”

So, don’t make me stupid.

Why am I sharing this? Because, this isn’t just true at work. This isn’t just true playing your favorite sport. This isn’t just true in a classroom. This isn’t just true in a fight or a debate [often the point of a debate].

This is most true with those you love.

Indeed, the most hurt, the worst fights, the most damage I can remember in my marriage was a direct consequence of pressing my wife’s stupid button.

Now, we could all argue that we should have better self control. The difficulty here is our relationships are the places we have made ourselves vulnerable. The closer the relationship, the more vulnerable we are. And, a truly loving marriage even paints a perfect target in the dead center of our stupid buttons. We know it all, and we know how to press it just right.

I have ruined some of the best times with my wife in the past by pressing her stupid button. I often interact with friends by having to be saying comical things in a conversation. When I meet new people, I try even harder to make things fun with laughter and light-heartedness. So what comes out the easiest? Where do any comedian’s jokes come from? Friends, family, life, and experience are the sources of all our good stuff.

It’s rather incredible more public comedians aren’t maimed, hurt, and killed by their loved ones. Their loved ones are so often the center of their quips and routines. The same goes for preachers. I guarantee Sunday lunch has had it’s share of the wife’s scorn for words that she knows he should never have made public–and which he is very sorry he did.

So, guard your words. Practice keeping your mind a couple of phrases ahead of your mouth.

And, where your wife is concerned, don’t you dare push that stupid button. Believe me. It will ruin your day. It will ruin your night. It can ruin the next several days and nights. It’s just plain stupid.

Find some new material.

Regards.

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