March 2010
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Coin Of Destiny

Here's what you get when the coin comes up "heads".

When it came time to decide if we would buy a new house, we flipped a coin. When we toyed with idea of having a third child, we flipped a coin. But we didn’t flip just any coin. We flipped the…wait for it…Coin Of Destiny. This is in italics because it should be said in a big voice ala Wizard of Oz style before Toto exposed what hid behind the curtain. Here’s how the Coin Of Destiny (say it big – ooo – you’re getting it) works: whenever we have a huge decision in front of us, we use this coin to help us decide what we should do.

Call us crazy. We really used a coin to help us figure if Calandro4 should become Calandro5.

The process is simple. We use any quarter, no special coin required. Heads we do one thing, tails we do the other. The rule is we have to do whatever the coin decides for us. We flip the coin. As the coin twirls through the air we imagine which outcome we really are hoping will happen. The coin lands and our destiny is revealed.

The coin of destiny is never wrong. Here’s why. In the split second of the reveal, our gut tells us our true feelings. If we are relieved or happy with the outcome, Hooray! That seals the deal and we either abandon the wild and crazy idea or move forward with the plan. If we feel disappointed or sad and really wish the coin had landed differently, we get to be adults and change the rules. Yep, we break our own rule about doing what the coin dictates for us. We’re wacky, not idiots.

The whole point of the exercise is not to let a coin determine our destiny, but to help us determine our true desires. It helps us go with our gut. The coin doesn’t make the decision in the end, but it helps us clarify what we really wanted in the first place.

Would you leave it up to a coin to decide if you abandon your successful career? Are you a pros-and-cons-list-maker? An avoid-it-until-the-decision-is-made-for-you-because-the-deck-broke-in-half-before-you-could-decide-to-replace-it kind of person? A jump-in-with-both-feet-and-suffer-the-consequences decision maker? How do you make big decisions for yourself?

Who makes the decision to have a third child by using a coin? The Calandro Clan does. But remember we didn’t make it using just any coin. We used the Coin Of Destiny.

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Toe the Line, and Cross It

M3 with Greg of Doc Burnstein's showing off the name of his Lab Show creation

1. Would you cross a picket line? What if it was a “bannering” and not a picket line?

2. Would you take your kids to cross the picket line?

3. What if you got free ice cream to cross the picket line?

Hmmm. My answers:

1. It depends.

2. After today, the answer is yes.

3. Definitely, especially if the ice cream is from Doc Burnstein’s Ice Cream Lab in Arroyo Grande.

Here’s what’s going on: My favorite ice cream shop, Doc Burnstein’s, is being bannered. From what I understand, this action is misdirected. Doc Burnstein’s is opening a new shop in the Santa Maria Town Center. The Town Center management has hired the workers for the construction. These workers are not union. Because the Town Center hired non-union workers for the job, the union is picketing the existing Doc Burnstein’s in Arroyo Grande. Confused? Me too.

Here’s the bottom line: the union is displaying a banner across the street from this small business that had no part of the decision about who was hired to construct the new location. Why is the union doing this? I have no idea. Shouldn’t they be bannering the company that didn’t hire them? I think so. I have no idea what the thinking was behind the union’s decision. I just heard free ice cream and I was there!… No; not true. I have a story of why I will support Doc Burnstein’s. (Shocker! I always have a story.)

We throw a huge Christmas Party every year. We invite a ton of people and ask them to bring non-perishable food items and new, unwrapped toys to donate to a local charity named Grass Roots II. Every year Santa arrives at our party by a different mode of transportation. He has arrived by Porsche convertible, Harley Davidson motorcycle, and boat, just to list a few. Here’s where Doc Burnstein’s comes in: The Calandro Clan attended the Ice Cream Lab Show at Doc Burnstein’s one Wednesday night years ago in September. Parked outside the ice cream shop was a beautiful, restored, classic car. I’m not sure what kind of car it was, but it was red, had Doc Burnstein’s painted on the side and screamed, “I want to deliver Santa to the Calandro Christmas Crazy Party!” when I saw it. After the Lab Show was over, I approached Greg Steinberger, the owner of of Doc Burnstein’s, and asked him if he would be interested in delivering Santa to our party. Greg had never met me, but agreed to to help us after hearing more about our party and the organization that our party benefits. Did you hear me? Greg had never met me. He just said yes when I asked for help. Who does this? Not many people, that’s for sure, but Greg does.

Greg says yes time and time again. The back room of his shop is filled with thank you notes and gifts from groups that have taken a tour through his lab. Plaques hang on the wall thanking him for his dedication and donations to many local groups, organizations, and charities. On the wall of his office are the words, “The purpose of life, is a life of purpose.” This man is one in a million; maybe even a billion. We should all feel lucky to have him in our community. He holds a monthly blood drive titled “Give a Pint Get a Pint”. He has an annual fundraiser every August where all profits from the night go toward college scholarships for his employees. He donates profits of certain nights to schools in the area. He gives so much more than he gets.

Social media talks constantly about community. How do you build it? How do you maintain it? How can you keep people invested in it? Social media executives should just ask Greg how to build a community because he gets it. His community is supporting him because he has done nothing but support us.

Here was the scene we found today as we approached his shop: The line was out the door and down the street. The news and our local paper were there, of course. More importantly, members of the community had come out to volunteer their time to help the day run smoothly. Other local business owners had taken their time away from their own businesses to support Greg. “This could have happened to any of us,” is how they felt.

Want to know what’s even more amazing than the other businesses showing up to help? Other local unions, firefighters, police officers, steel workers, and nurses unions, were present to show their support for Greg. They saw what the union was doing that was bannering Greg and decided it was wrong. These unions stood up against the other union. That’s the kind of support Greg got because that’s the kind of support he deserves. One union paid for the ice cream that was given away as a sign of support for Greg, the business he has created, and the community he has given back to again and again.

As we traveled to the event today, I talked with my boys about unions (I used to be in a teachers’ union), picket lines, bannering, getting the facts on a situation, and standing up for people we want to support. I am proud to support Greg Steinberger and Doc Burnstein’s Ice Cream. I have walked past the banner other times even when the ice cream wasn’t free because I love this local business and love their ice cream. I hope this stand-off can be resolved quickly and fairly. Until there is a resolution, and even when the dispute is over, I will continue to get my ice cream from the best place on the Central Coast: Doc Burnstein’s.

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Find! That! Smell!

Ewww! What's that smell?!?

I have to play this game way too often in my house and in my car. It happened again this morning. I got in my van (Yes, I drive a white minivan -Jealous?) and was immediately hit with round one of the game: Ugh! What stinks?!? Actually this game used to happen a lot more often when M3 was littler and I would perpetually drive around with sippy cups in my car -you know those things are ticking stink bombs.

Anyway, a smell was in my car. Time for round two of the game: Open up the windows. Let the air out. Maybe someone did something as they were getting into the car that followed them in there. You know exactly what I mean. And you know it can follow you unless you wait for the allotted seventeen seconds. It’s TRUE! Try it.

If I roll the windows back up and the smell is still there, it’s time for Round Three: Ask the kids what they left in here. Sometimes M2 will leave something in the back that is just scary and starts a life of its own, creating a smell to go along with it. Other times it can be a wet towel from the beach that is stashed behind a seat or in the back. This interrogation investigation can take the entire drive to school.

When the blame can’t be placed we still can’t Find! That! Smell! I have to resort to cleaning out my car. So that’s what it usually takes. That’s what will finally get me to clean out “the black hole”, “my office”, or the “laundry pile on wheels” as I have called my van in the past. My brother-in-law once said I would never have to worry about being stranded if my car broke down in a remote area. I had enough supplies laying around the floor of my van to last me at least a week. I didn’t punch him. That’s love.

What was the smell? Hard to say. It may have been the dirty socks I found wadded up under the seat. It may have been the Jamba Juice container that had been sitting in the back seat cup holder since the time Jamba Juice was called Juice Club (look it up). Or it could have been the travel mug filled with coffee and cream that is needed to get me through these thrillingly fabulous ridiculously hectic days. Now, at least, my car is clean. Nice to know that it will last for about 7.4 minutes.

Tune in next time when we will play the latest, greatest Calandro Clan game show of Fill In The Blank! Here’s an example: “If you don’t stop jumping on the furniture I’m going to ___________” 

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Two Truths and a Lie 4 Answers (Athletics Edition)

I know I promised to get this post done for the opening of the Olympic Games, but I wanted to keep the chocolate post up at the top a bit longer. I got some yummy chocolate for Valentine’s day from Sweet Earth Chocolate, by the way –so AWESOME!

 Okay, so back to me and my athletic stardomreality stories. Settle in for the truth. And, Bish, my dear, you rock because you just keep a-guessin’! Thanks, Girl!

1. TRUE I did set the record for the long jump at my high school when I was a freshman on the track team. And, of course, there is a story: It was a cold, stormy, Spring afternoon in the Bay Area (gee, original story beginning, Eileen. I know, keep reading….) and we had a track meet at my high school. All I wanted to do was be home soaking in a hot bath, but no, I was out running in the rain. You need to know I am like a cat –I detest getting wet, unless I am soaking in a tub. Hence, why I wanted to be home instead of where I was. Anyway, I had my last jump of the day and then I could go home. I peeled my soaked sweats off, made my jump, and left. The next day the entire team had the weekly team meeting to talk about the meet. Our coach announced two school records had been set at the meet, despite the terrible conditions. One of the records was my long jump of 14’11”! I was shocked. I hadn’t even stuck around to see what my jump was the day before! I just wanted to get home! I thought there must have been a mistake, but it had been verified at the meet. People had looked for me to tell me the news, but I had already left. I was in the bathtub having a soak when news came in about my record. That bathtub was really a motivator! That record wasn’t beaten the entire time I was in high school. My name and jump distance was up on the gym wall with the other records. Ah, glory days. Honestly? I think the guys doing the measuring were as fed up with the weather as I was and measured it wrong, but no one seemed to care. 

2. TRUE I helped spark the Olympic career of an Olympic rower. (At least that’s the way I like to tell the story.) I was on the crew team when I was in college. I had the honor of rowing stroke on the women’s varsity open-weight 8 boat. The brand-new boat I rowed in was named after my coach’s mom: the Radmilla Gogo de Baya or “The Rad” for short. (Remember, I am not making this stuff up!) I’m not huge (5’9”) and don’t weigh a lot (I’m not telling you that) but I was rowing with women who were 6’ tall or more and/or outweighed me by a good 30 or so pounds. What I lacked in size I made up for in technique, strength, and my ability to hit a 32, 34, even a 38 stroke rate and maintain it like it was my own heartbeat. So I became the stroke of the varsity boat. For those of you who don’t row, this was a big deal. And then other things became a bigger deal. My dad died right at the beginning of the race season and my edge, concentration, and drive evaporated, for obvious reasons. I missed a huge regatta up in Sacramento because I was at my dad’s funeral. Another teammate took over my position as stroke. A novice (first year rower) filled her seat in the boat and rowed 2-seat. The novice’s name was Karen Kraft. After the meet my crew came to my house and they all gave me the medals they had won at the meet. (We came in third.) Karen insisted I keep her medal even though it was her first time rowing varsity and her first medal ever at a regatta. Karen went on to row for the US Olympic Rowing Team and compete in the 1996 and 2000 Summer Olympic Games. She is a two-time Olympic medal winner and is being inducted into the National Rowing Hall of Fame at the Mystic Seaport in Connecticut on March 20, 2010. I like to think it was that first taste of victory when she took my place that may have driven her all the way to the Olympics. (Nice ego, Eileen!) I still have that medal she gave me. She taped a message on her racing jersey during the race and later put the message on the ribbon of the medal. It said, “DO IT FOR EILEEN”.

3. FALSE. Obviously, those truths make the third statement my lie. I did NOT help my cross-country team win anything much less a championship. I was more of a sprinter in high school (see truth number one above). I signed up for the cross country team because I didn’t want to have to do regular PE and my coach knew this. He would yell at me at the meets as I ran past him, huffing and puffing in last place. He would throw his clipboard down and scream at me until he was red in the face. “Why don’t you just quit! You are ruining our team!” Nice. That’s motivating. (Someone needs to invent a sarcastic font) Ironically, I am now an avid runner. I always say running is my church. I run half marathons FOR FUN. And I do pretty well in them. I even have a “top finisher” mug that I won in a local half marathon. I’m drinking my coffee from it as I write this post. How do you like me now, Coach Wainwright?

Well, those were my glory days. Not Olympic class or anything, but I’m glad I have something to tell my kids when I feel the need to “back in my day” them. As always, thanks for playing along and for listening (reading) my stories. Now I’m going out for a run….

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