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Most days having two kids is a blessing, but let me tell you, when they argue it’s like poison. It’s that point of the summer where the day-to-day routine and close proximity is starting to wear on each of our boys’ patience (and ours, for that matter). The one phrase that tends to get uttered more than any other lately has been just three words: ‘Oh. Yeah. Right!’ The venomous nature of how it’s offered up is itself a verbal challenge posing as an answer to a rhetorical question. When the debate reaches this point you can almost start counting down to when the fists start flying. In less than two days they will get to spend a LOT of quality time together sitting just inches apart on our longest vacation road trip ever. I know it’s wishful thinking but I’m positive they won’t argue a bit.

There are few things in summer that beat grilling. I’m not exactly a grill connoisseur, but nearly everything seems to taste better when it’s cooked over an open flame. Not only is it an excuse to dine nightly on BBQ-friendly fare like dogs, brats, burgers and steaks but grilling outside keeps the house from heating up.

We recently purchased a three-burner gas grill (with more stainless than our silverware drawer) to replace our old rusty Kenmore (literally, there were huge gaping holes in the grill tines).To make the new grill feel more at home we’ve given it its very own brick paver patio and keep it covered up when we’re not using it. For the novice griller like myself, it’s great – BUT I know the die-hards out there are chanting, “char-COAL! char-COAL! char-COAL!”

I remember the charcoal grill we had when I was just a kid. For some reason I don’t recall the superior flavor of anything that was grilled on it – just the amount of effort it took to prepare this primitive outdoor cooking appliance. Dad would methodically erect a pyramid of charcoal briquettes to ensure a stable heat cone and guarantee equal heat distribution. The care and time taken to do this seemed inversely proportional to the time it took a steady stream of charcoal fluid to knock them over (I can still smell that stuff). Match after match were sacrificed and cursed until the pile was lit. After all that work, we still had to wait for the briquettes to change into those red hot glowing snowballs. Then using tongs, dad would again methodically spread the pile out to ensure a wide but concentrated heat source.

Grilling the meat du jour was also a process. Noting the hot spots and using the dead zones for simmers was crucial and unfortunately different every time, so you weren’t able to memorize and get lazy. The griller had a full-time gig. He had to be quick with the spatula, tongs and the knife (the slice test was often needed to determine if meat was cooked properly). No sir, grilling with charcoal was work!

We had the opportunity to take in Rocket Day with our youngest at the High Prairie Arts and Science Complex this afternoon. We joined the scores of families who attended to build three different homemade rockets. It’s amazing what you can do with Alka-Seltzer tablets, empty film canisters, manila folders and empty water bottles.

Each station had volunteers who kindly demonstrated how to create each rocket. After a little cutting, folding and a lot of scotch tape he was ready to launch. The only step he skipped was decorating. I was surprised that he didn’t take the time to customize the look of his rockets with the markers and crayons made available at each station. He’s usually pretty artistic. Then again, what boy wouldn’t choose high speed projectiles that crash to the ground over coloring?

After two weeks of swimming lessons, our youngest passed his level test. He can float, glide and crawl (a little). I’m just proud of the fact that he no longer is afraid to put his face in the water. Turns out the solution was nothing more than a pair of goggles. Now that he is able to see just how far away the bottom of the pool is he’s not nearly as frightened. Everybody knows that a kid with swim goggles will never drown.

If you’re not familiar with Isaiah Mustafa, you’ve been living under a rock. You probably know him better as Old Spice’s latest pitchman. With his superior build and condescending tone he’s saved the brand from the cobwebs of grandpa’s cologne cabinet by starring in a number of creative ‘one-shot’ spots since the Super Bowl last February. I’m sure the body wash-loving romeo has to be negotiating some bigger contracts these days, adding to his workload with a string of impromptu YouTube video responses.

Hopefully greedy agents don’t run this poor guy into the ground because right now Mustafa is a hot commodity. I can see where over-saturating the media with this series could have a minimal or even negative effect on Old Spice sales. After all, the American viewing public’s attention span isn’t that long. If history is to be repeated we can expect Mustafa to star in his own movie as a similar type-cast character or be anchoring his own sitcom in the next fall line-up and be canceled after six episodes (a la GEICO’s ‘Caveman’ fiasco). That would stink.

I’ve always believed that success is more probable for those individuals that set goals and then work hard to achieve them. I know it sounds logical, but it’s a well known fact that there are individuals out there who believe they are entitled to something only because they want what someone else has. Unfortunately most of them are unwilling to exert any effort of their own to attain these coveted somethings. I realize there remains a great number of inequities in most aspects of life (a product of our diversity and individuality), but in those cases where everyone has an equal opportunity there still are those who refuse to earn anything by their own efforts.

At what point in our development is this risk-reward behavior learned? When and how do we adopt a personal work ethic? What responsibility, if any, do each of us have to ensure that the next generation understands the importance of working hard to achieve goals – or success – as I define it? Do people need to be guaranteed a minimum standard of living? How about a maximum standard of living? If I could answer these questions I could probably fix a lot of the problems in this world. Obviously I can’t.

What I do know, in my experience of working with young college students, is everyone is different. What works for one individual isn’t guaranteed to work for another. The formulas for success are not the same. Despite how society might label them, I’ve learned never, ever to write anyone off. We may give these students an equal opportunity with their education, but it’s up to them to utilize what they’ve learned to achieve the career and success they desire. Nobody can guarantee it. It’s their responsibility.

Do you know of someone who suffers from chronic foot-in-mouth disease? They say loud and proud whatever pops into their head without thinking about how someone else might feel. In their fatally warped universe this is completely acceptable behavior and if anyone takes offense to what they have to say then they’re quick to remind others to reacquaint themselves with the basic freedom of speech. Even if their views and opinions are contrary to what others hold, they simply can’t be respectful of another point-of-view. The result is often an arrogant, blow-hard who will never apologize for the things they say, let alone admit any wrongdoing. Thankfully chronic cases are rare.

I’m not about to give myself complete amnesty in this area, because I’m guilty of saying things I’ve later regretted. As much as I think I do right, I still do plenty wrong. I am as flawed as the next person. I’m certainly not above apologizing and asking for forgiveness if, and when I do hurt someone else as a result of such behavior. And, as difficult as it is sometimes, I have to forgive those that hurt me. Why? Because it’s the right and proper thing to do.