Our Yankees

From July 26: "Winning would have been nice, but it didn’t really matter. As we left you said you want to go again. As we got on the train, you said it was a great game. It WAS a great game. It’ll just show up in the stats as one of 60 or so losses for the year, but for us, it was the world series. We both fell in love with the Yankees yesterday."

Did we ever! We carried our love for the Yankees down to Tejas, where it ain't easy sporting your Yankee pride. There have been some great lessons on courage and boldness I've been able to teach Sam. Wear that shirt with pride son - don't worry what other people think.

We battled through some internal conflict. Do we like the Rangers now? Well, yeah, we do. But the Yankees are our team. Sam, you know the lineup up and down. There's Jeter, Johnny D, Tex, A-Rod, Fives, Hip Hip Jorge, Nick Swisher (the guy with a name begging for a nickname, we just call Nick Swisher), Robinson Cano, and last but not least, (I want my) Melky Cabrera. And of course you knew the pitching rotation inside and out: AJ, CC and Andy with Mariano Rivera. What a team! One day you'll learn that it was an expensive team. Don't listen to that crap. It's jealousy plain and simple. Of course they were expensive. They're awesome!

Not sure how it came about, but we started telling Little Derek stories at bedtime. Madeup stories about Little Derek when he was 7 years old - all the amazing feats that surprisingly revolved around baseball. Your favorite was the time Little Derek went to a Yankee game with his daddy and late in the game when they were running out of players, they asked people in the stands if they'd like to play. Of course, Little Derek raised his hand and got to play shortstop. He won the game for them and they carried him around the field to roaring fans. They told him to call when he turned 18 - that they would surely have a spot for him when he grows up. I think it took you awhile to fall asleep after that one.

You even got your mom and sisters into the Yanks. It was definitely a family affair. Even before last night, ask mom who she'd want up in the clutch, she'd tell you Fives is the guy. What a final game for Fives! He was huge!!

As a goodbye gift, our good friend Mark Alvarez (huge Yankee fan from way back) from NY gave us some dirt from homeplate at the new stadium. I can't wait to frame it with a few world series posters. We'll remember this season forever!

A few pictures from last night's game and from Halloween. Sam was A-Rod, of course.

Goodbye New York

Much has changed since our last post. 'A Bronx Tale' turns out to be a fitting last post, I think. I could go on about our time in the city, but words wouldn't do in describing our love for New York City. Those were the best 4.5 years of my life...so far. As my friend Sully would say, it's been a good run. We'll certainly miss it. Goodbye New York.

A Bronx Tale

Yesterday I fell in love with baseball again. Dad, this post is for you to enjoy as I’ve failed at posting any blogs lately. Sorry. And Sam, I'm writing it to you. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it when you’re older. Perhaps you’ll take your children to a Yankees game one day and you can tell them about the time I took you.

Being from Texas, I’ve always been a Rangers fan, but not a die-hard one by any means. The Rangers, unfortunately, give you little to cheer about. These past 5 seasons while living in New York, I’ve pretty much ignored baseball altogether. I’ve tried to like the Mets, but real emotions aren’t there.

Sam, you are 6 years old and have transitioned from a love for Spiderman to a love for baseball. Along the way, I’ve asked ‘which is your favorite baseball team – the Yankees or the Mets’? Earlier this season, you leaned toward the Mets because you knew I was trying to like them. However, about a month ago, while playing catch at the park, you told me you wanted to be a Yankees fan instead. “Why Sam?” You explained, “Because the Yankees are better”. Fair enough. Perhaps by coincidence, the Yanks were one game into a seven game winning streak that day.

In our chaotic house, we’ve never found time for watching baseball. However, I had been promising you we’d go to a Yankees game this season. Yesterday, we woke up with no plans, so without much expectation of finding anything, I checked Craigslist for tickets to the 1:05pm game against the A’s. It just so happened that a doctor working at the hospital 5 blocks away was selling his two $100 tickets for $50 each. I couldn’t pass that up.

Just before noon we were out the door. You were wearing a generic green shirt, a plain tan cap and your baseball glove. You have been to a Yankees game before, but you were 3 years old and don’t remember it. In my mind, and in yours, this is your first. As we were walking to the train, I told you everyone on the 4 train will be wearing their Yankees caps and shirts. You looked down at your pathetic green shirt and slowly started to take off your tan cap. I told you not to worry, that we will get you a Yankees cap and shirt when we get there.

While waiting on the train, we would see different Yankee shirts pass by. There’s a Ruth. I explained that Babe played for them before I was even born -- and no one hit the baseball farther than Babe. There’s a Posada. There’s an A-Rod. I asked which shirt you wanted. Not knowing the players, except A-Rod, you asked for my opinion. My first thought was A-Rod, but I told you I thought we should go with Jeter. He’s a classic Yankee; been with them a long time; plays shortstop; has won a world series. Yeah, let’s get a Jeter.

The 4 train dropped us off next door to the new stadium. We walked hand-in-hand directly to the souvenir shop across from the stadium. Hat. Jeter shirt. Done.







In we go. 30 minutes before the first pitch, people everywhere. Perfect day for baseball: 80 and sunny. We find our way to our seats. They were perfect seats in the second level between home and first. I’ll never forget the look on your face when you saw the field for the first time.

There was a lot of explaining to do. All the basics. You played baseball 2 years ago, but you knew only the very basics. You didn’t know a strike from a ball, a hit from a run, a walk from a hit. You asked, What do they play to?



With hotdogs and lemonade in hand, we get situated for the first pitch from one of the best – Andy Pettitte. I think you were expecting much more action. You were expecting every pitch to be a home run. I explained that baseball is slower. The pitchers are really good and they are trying to pitch it so you can’t even hit it. And to make it even more painful for you, the first several innings were nothing short of a classic pitcher’s dual. We mixed in some cotton candy and ice cream to keep things exciting though. Zero-Zero heading into the bottom of the 6th inning. Jeter’s on first when Brett Gardner ropes one between Center and Right. A triple – Jeter scores. 1-0. The place goes crazy for the first time. I pick you up so you can see the action. We high-fived. You asked if we won. Not yet, I said. It felt like a 10 run lead at the rate this game was going.

Top of the 7th. The bottom falls out. Pettitte’s old arm starts to fade. He gives up two or three and leaves the game with the bases loaded. The reliever choked. The A’s put up 6 runs in the top of the 7th – the only runs they scored all day. The air was sucked out of the stadium.

After the 7th inning stretch, we get mowed down again. The score holds tight at 6-1 going into the bottom of the 8th. I ask myself if we should just leave now to avoid the mass exodus. But I tell myself we can’t do that. Shame on me for letting the thought cross my mind. We flipped our caps into rally mode. You convinced me we needed to be keeping our fingers crossed as well. Jorge Posada is announced as a pinch hitter. After a loud applause, the chanting starts “Hip Hip Jorge! Hip Hip Jorge!” I think he walked. Our man Jeter’s up. Crack! We all stood up, you in my arms, to see the ball flying through the air. Home run! Your first! The place went absolutely crazy. 6-3, baby! Here we come. Something I never thought I’d have: Yankee goose bumps. I thought to myself, this is baseball. I was loving the moment. Next batter: Mark Teixeira. I’ve never seen a ball hit so hard. He pulled it, and we all stood as it raced down the first base line. After the ball left the park, there was a strange 2 or 3 seconds of silence as we all waited to see whether the ump called it fair or foul. Home run! The place went berserk! 6-4. Oh my!

Time for a pitching change. During the switch, we watched a clip from Rudy on the big screen. “No one, I mean no one, comes into our house and pushes us around!” Chill bumps. Place goes crazy. #55 Hideki Matsui is up. The old school Yankee fan behind us was yelling “Let’s go Fives”. Fives. I love it. Unfortunately, Fives didn’t do much. Neither did anyone else. The rally fizzled. We were only able to get the 3 runs in the 8th.

In the top of the 9th, great pitching and two spectacular back-to-back catches in Center by Brett Gardner kept the A’s at six.

Bottom 9. Last chance. By now, Sam, you are very into it. We need two runs in the 9th to tie it. 3 to win. Between the top and bottom of the 9th, the classic Rocky clip: “It ain’t about how hard ya hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!” Then the Rocky theme song. Goose bumps on top of goose bumps.

Rally caps at full throttle. Fingers crossed. Melky walks. Place goes crazy. Johnny Damon to the plate. He walks too! First and second with no outs! Oh my! Who’s up? Hip Hip Jorge! Hip Hip Jorge! He hits a screamer….but right to the second baseman. Double play. Air sucked straight out of the stadium. You could hear a pin drop.

Ok Sam. There’s still a chance. Two outs, runner on third, Jeter’s up to bat. If he scores, we’re tied. After two or three pitches, Jeter crushes one. We all stand, you in my arms. Back, back, back….centerfielder caught it at the warning track. Just like that, game over. We lost, Sam. You didn’t understand how the game could end so quickly. The masses turned around and walked up the isles to Sinatra’s New York, New York playing loudly.

Winning would have been nice, but it didn’t really matter. As we left you said you want to go again. As we got on the train, you said it was a great game. It WAS a great game. It’ll just show up in the stats as one of 60 or so losses for the year, but for us, it was the world series. We both fell in love with the Yankees yesterday.

Poem

It's been a while since we've updated everyone on our well savings. March was a good month. April? Not so much. Mickey stole my wallet.

Jordan's homework this past week was to write a poem on a social issue. She and I wrote the poem below at breakfast yesterday. Enjoy!

Wells For Africa

Take a bath. Turn on the sink.

So much water for us to drink.

Take a dive. Wash your hair.

Water, water everywhere!

Or is there?

Yes there is. It has been found.

Can't be reached; it's underground.

Miles each day, walks to the creek,

For water that's dirty. It makes you weak.

We can help them. It's easy, you know.

Drill a well and the water will flow.

My family is saving to buy them a well.

Clean water, clean water to fill up their pail..

Spring Break: Orlando

What a great vacation it was! I don't remember us ever being sadder heading home. Our kids had such a blast. We visited Magic Kingdom and The Islands of Adventure. Both were very crowded, but we still managed to enjoy ourselves thanks to the perfect weather. There were lots of laughs and fun memories. Some of my best lasting memories as a child were at Six Flags. There's not much better than riding a roller coaster with your kid, sharing a thrilling time with them, smiles from ear to ear.

Easter Sunday was fun too. We visited our family that lives in Orlando. Uncle Ron and Aunt Linda are such warm, fun hosts. We had a fun time spending a relaxing day with them. Earlier that day, we had a worship time in our hotel. The kids joined us in singing, praying and reading about the resurrection.

Karate Kid

Samuel-Son earned his yellow belt recently.  He's actually quite dangerous, but is learning to restrain himself.  It's comforting knowing that we're protected on the mean streets of the upper east side.

He can also count to ten in Korean.  Pretty impressive, and very funny to hear!

Cool Video

Check it out here.

Whales in Africa

Some progress to report on the deep well. Christine and I had lunch last Friday with a World Vision (WV) representative. She shared stories about Africa, and some of the great things they are doing over there. One of the exciting things we learned is that the Conrad N. Hilton Foundation has a 1:1 match program for all water project donations. In an earlier post, I told you my employer will be paying for 3/4's of the well through our charitable giving matching program. It's exciting to know that our giving can be leveraged so powerfully.


We've learned that WV is involved in rural water projects in various countries in Africa. We've not selected a particular project at this point. My hope is through our research (while we're saving), we'll discover the project or country we're most excited about.


I've spent the last couple weeks educating myself on Africa. It has started with the basics, like looking at the map to familiarize myself with where the different countries are located. What is sub-Saharan Africa? Where is Ethiopia? Africa is big by the way. Within the borders of the continent you could fit the United States, China, India, western Europe, Argentina and New Zealand.


One of the things that has always intrigued me about Africa is the people. I realize this is a generalization about a massive continent of people, but there's a joy and happiness that can be seen in many. Earlier this week, I bought a book called 'Africa: Altered States, Ordinary Miracles'. The Foreward to the book confirmed some of that. Let me share part of it with you:


"Africa has a reputation: poverty, disease, war. But when outsiders do go they are often surprised by Africa's welcome, entranced rather than frightened. Visitors are welcomed and cared for in Africa. If you go you will find most Africans friendly, gentle and infinitely polite.. You will frequently be humbled by African generosity. Africans have in abundance what we call social skills. These are not skills that are formally taught or learned. There is no click-on have-a-nice-day smile in Africa. Africans meet, greet and talk, look you in the eye and empathize, hold hands and embrace, share and accept from others without twitchy self-consciousness.


Westerners arriving in Africa for the first time are always struck by its beauty and size--even the sky seems higher. And they often find themselves suddenly cracked open. They lose inhibitions, feel more alive, more themselves, and they begin to understand why, until then, they have only half lived. In Africa the essentials of existence--light, earth, water, food, birth, family, love, sickness, death--are more immediate, more intense. Visitors suddenly realize what life is for. To risk a huge generalization: amid our wasteful wealth and time-pressed lives we have lost human values that still abound in Africa.


Back at home in London I sometimes ask visiting Africans what strikes them most about the way Londoners live. Suni Umar, a journalist from Sokoto in northern Nigeria, gives a typical answer. 'People walk so fast. And they do not talk to each other. Even first thing in the morning they do not greet each other. I came to the office in London and the people working there did not even greet me or each other.' And the most puzzing thing? 'I was lost and I walked up to a man and asked the way. He did not reply. He did not even look at me. He just walked away. Like that.' When Suni goes home to Nigeria and tells that tale they will not believe him. There they know that some Europeans are not kind to Africans, but to be so trivially inhuman to each other is shocking. Even in London or New York or Paris, Africans do not easily lose the habit of catching your eye as you pass. Raise an eyebrow in greeting and a flicker of a smile starts in their eyes. A small thing? No. It is the prize that Africa offers the rest of the world: humanity."


We've gotten the whole family excited about saving for the well. Check out the picture of our Well-O-Meter. The kids had a great time coloring it. Brooke and Sam are still a little confused about buying a well, especially Brooke. She thinks we're buying them a "whale". Our conversation while coloring our well-o-meter went something like this:


Me: "Brookie, a well is when they drill a hole and water comes out of it for them to drink."

Brooke: "Whales have holes in their back where water comes out!"

Me: "That's exactly right! Great job coloring, Brookie."

4

Learning about 4 from Wikipedia: "4 is a number. It is the natural number following 3 and preceding 5. It is the only number in the English language for which the number of letters in its name is equal to the number itself."

Helpful, huh? Well, in addition to that fine information, you should know that today marks the four-year anniversary of the Gullettes living in NYC!

Happy Anniversary to us!

Water!

Clean Water: 1.1 billion people (1 in every 6) don't have clean drinking water; 30,000 people die every day due to conditions caused by unsafe drinking water.

I think we found our idea last week; our way to get the whole family involved; to act, rather than just talk.

The Gullette's want to buy a deep well. From World Vision: A deep well fitted with a hand pump can provide up to 2,800 gallons of safe water a day to benefit as many as 300 people! In many communities, clean water lies hundreds of feet below layers of hard rock. Children have no choice but to walk long distances to find water that is often dirty and disease-ridden. When our drilling teams strike water, entire villages erupt in celebration because a clean water source can cut a community’s child mortality rate by as much as half.

Deep wells are $18,000. Ouch! However, the lightbulb went on last week for me. I'm fortunate to work for an employer with an extraordinarily generous charitable giving matching program. For every dollar I give, up to $5000, they triple match it.

So that means if the Gullettes pony up $4500, my employer will triple match to the tune of $13,500. That's a well. How amazing would that be?

It's exciting to imagine the kids getting involved. We plan to let them help us create a well-o-meter on poster board so we can keep up with how much we've saved. Fortunately, our tax refund was bigger than we anticipated this year, so that will be our head start.

We have a lot of fluff in our budget, so I hope we can get there sooner rather than later. Now, as we decide whether to buy this or that, or go here or there, the question will be: would we rather put money in the well fund? We might not always say yes, but I hope we do sometimes. My hope is we'll be there soon.....by Summer?

Christine and I are having lunch with a representative from World Vision tomorrow. We'll keep you updated on that.

More posts to come as we want as many as possible to join us in the journey, the celebration of a water well erected in Africa.

DC

A few pictures from our recent trip to Washington DC. Over winter break, we loaded up the van and drove down there.

We'll always remember the trip because of what Brookie called the president. She kept calling him "Mark Barama". She insisted on getting a Mark Barama t-shirt as her souvenir.

Back and....Bothered?

It's been over 6 months since my last blog.


Let's see, what's changed since August 2008?

Everything. Most people now have a 201-k, as half their retirement savings are gone. It's a good time to be a renter in NYC. Times are tough, and will likely get tougher all over the world.

Sorry for being a little heavy in my first post out of hibernation, but....

Big responsibility for those that God decided to give money to. Here's a combo that's not really so good. It's being rich and indifferent to injustice and extreme poverty. That's been on my mind a lot lately. Three weeks ago, our pastor spoke on mercy and justice--talking about what angers Jesus, or makes him indignant. It was the injustices: religious people not wanting him to heal hurting people on the sabbath, commercialism happening in the temple, and children being overlooked as insignificant.

Charity was sort of en vogue during the boom times of the mid-2000's. The world seems to be circling the drain at this point. I wonder how much worse it could get for the poorest of the poor, when the rich are no longer feeling so rich and generous?

There's a book coming out in March written by Richard Stearns, the president of World Vision called The Hole In Our Gospel. Read a summary of it here.


From Stearns: Twelve million orphans, and no one noticed? But what sickened me most was this question: Where was the church? Indeed, where were the followers of Jesus Christ in the midst of perhaps the greatest humanitarian crisis of our time? Surely the church should have been caring for these “orphans and widows in their distress” (see James 1:27). Shouldn’t the pulpits across America have flamed with exhortations to rush to the front lines of compassion? Shouldn’t they be flaming today? Shouldn’t churches be reaching out to care for children in such desperate need? How could the great tragedy of these orphans get drowned out by choruses of praise music in hundreds of thousands of churches across our country? Sitting in a hut in Rakai, I remember thinking, How have we missed it so tragically, when even rock stars and Hollywood actors seem to understand?


I was fortunate enough to be able to work at a food kitchen in the Bronx last week through my work (we're given the opportunity to volunteer a few times per year). It felt good to help, and it was a great reminder of the hunger and poverty in our own backyard. At the same time, a thought that crossed my mind is that even these poor would be considered relatively rich. You should have seen all the perfectly good food discarded from the homeless man's plate into the trash. 16,000 people around the world die every day from hunger related issues. They would have swarmed the discarded food, if given the opportunity.


Thick stuff, I know. Sorry man. I, like many normal 30 or 40 something white folks living in a life of ease, feel a little helpless. The problem is too big and I'm too insignifcant to make a dent. The equivilent of "my vote doesn't matter." I know Christine and I are really bothered by children, in particular, that are in pain, or are hungry. I don't think our anger is strong enough that we've moved on it too much. We should do more.

How much more? I love this quote by C.S. Lewis: "I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare…If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us,… they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditures excludes them.”


I hate this picture, but it's powerful. It won the 1994 pulitzer prize.