It's been a rough week

By now, the story of Tim Russert has run through the news cycle so many times that you would have to be on another planet not to know he passed away at 58. I watched "Meet the Press" regularly and welcomed his keen political savvy and ever present civility. I appreciated greatly his family bonds and was touched deeply to learn he always told his son, "I'm proud of you." That is something I make a point of saying to my sons every time they call, and - although I didn't get the idea from Tim - because he did it also, I felt a kinship to him. I didn't know him, but I do feel sadder knowing he's gone.

This column appears in several newspapers and on quite a few websites. Every outlet that carries it honors me, but the Eureka Times-Standard is my hometown paper, so that's where I actually see my words in print and get most of my feedback, for better or worse. Because of that, and the fact that the T-S was the first paper to run this column on a weekly basis, I have an extra-special loyalty to it. In some indefinable way, it is part of my extended family.

Rich Somerville, managing editor of the T-S, passed away suddenly this week at age 61. The headline was blazoned across the front page on Monday morning, the same day my column runs here. Although Rich obviously lived considerably closer to me than did Russert, I did not know him well either. Most of our correspondence was through e-mail and he replaced the editor who originally started running my piece. I met Rich a few times; he was warm, gracious, and friendly. The people with whom I work at the Times-Standard spoke well of him. And the fact that he continued to run my column obviously endeared him to me. My heart is again heavy with loss.

They both left too soon; that's not how it's supposed to be.

We fool ourselves into believing we have "all the time in the world," so we forget - or at least I do - to realize how precious is each ticking second. Unfortunately, sometimes it takes shocking events to remind us to value what matters and let go of what does not.

On the grand scale of things, most of what annoys us is really just that: annoying, not important. I gain two pounds and rant like a banshee. The person in front of me drives too slowly. What to do? Become livid; increase my blood pressure, rage and shake my fist. Look how tough my life is; do you see what I have to put up with?

Yes, I'm still struggling to exercise, forcing myself to stay conscious about what I eat, and I hate battling "those same five pounds" - but I am full of life. I am still able to tell my kids how proud I am and express my love to my wife. And I get to share my thoughts with people like you.
Life is good; enjoy it while you got it.