Presenting Me - Curated Content at 60 (By Debby Thrailkill)

To “Curate” is to select, organize and present, much like wine is made. “Content” has several meanings: As a noun, it means “substance within, distinct in its form and style”. As an adjective, it means “state of peaceful happiness, satisfied with a certain level of achievement, good fortune, and not wishing for more”.

Certain milestones in life cause us to take stock of ourselves. As my 60th birthday month approaches, I’ve been thinking about my level of content with my life to date.

Like grapes from California’s wine country, I have been greatly influenced by the ground beneath me. Sunny and easy-going California days from the 1960s through today have enabled me to have a positive outlook, an easy smile, and a generous spirit. My loving Mom and good friends have taught me faith in God, my most valued gift. My Dad taught me to do what was right. Success in the community at work, and in charity, has built confidence. My amazing husband has been my rock and encouraged me to reach deeper, to improve with age. Joe has loved me infinitely. Substance has come from challenges, including loss, divorce, parenting, navigating relationships, and health concerns; and I’m fine-tuning style with a sense of awareness as opportunities present.

With wine, it’s substance and clarity are judged by tilting a glass sideways over a white surface, so as to fully assess its depth of character. The last two years have been my biggest challenge, and I felt tilted! I focused on family, doing what was right, and helping others as much as possible. Regarding substance, I am content, always leaving room for improvement.

As far as clarity, as my friend, artist Hyatt Moore, puts it, I want to be “of God” as much as possible. In everything I do, I pray to be surrounded by others who strive to be of Him. With that I will be at peace and satisfied, with my curated content.

Next month I will be celebrating my birthday in California’s wine country with those I hold dear. We will taste wines, eat charcuterie, and laugh into the late hours. It will be a state of peaceful happiness, my good fortune, and I couldn’t wish for more!

So shines a good deed in a weary world. 

 ~ Willy Wonka  

The Tail of the Pony - Part 2

Last week’s message (Part 1) was wrapped around how long hair taught me not to judge others. That stupid ponytail (which I had for many years) also came into play later on in my life when it helped me learn the true meaning of love and sacrifice. Let me explain…

In 2000, I was 45 years old and still wearing my hair in a long ponytail. It had become symbolic of my youth and a reminder that I should always follow my own path in life regardless of what others think. My wife loved it and wouldn’t let me cut if I wanted to, and guess I just loved being different.

Unfortunately, my Dad, a Captain in the Marine Corps, didn’t love my long hair like I did. He didn’t even like my long hair a little bit and often asked me with a wry smile, “When you gonna get that sh$%&#t cut off?”. My Dad never spoke to me in a mean way, quite the opposite. But he did enjoy giving me a bit of a hard time in a good-natured way. Our relationship was really special because I looked up to him and admired him on so many levels. Despite being the winner of the Marine Corps Medal of Valor, he was the humblest man I ever met, and also one of the smartest. He loved to teach me things and instilled in me at a young age, the desire to learn, which has served me well throughout my life. He was a soldier, a scholar, loyal to his friends, faithful to his wife, and loving to his children.

I will never forget the day he asked me if I would go with him to the hospital for a follow up visit. I had noticed he was having trouble swallowing, but didn’t know that it was getting serious. When the Doctor closed the door and sat down and sighed, I got butterflies in my stomach. When the Doctor finally spoke and told my Dad that he had esophageal cancer, and it wasn’t curable, I thought I was going to throw up. I was fighting back tears as I looked at my Dad, but he wasn’t upset at all. He thanked the Doctor for doing what he could and asked him, “How long?” That’s when I really lost it.

They operated on my Dad one last time in January 2001, but he never got well enough to leave the hospital. I visited him almost every day and when he could speak, which wasn’t often, we had some good laughs. I don’t remember him ever complaining about his medical issues. In fact, he kept his sense of humor and even needled me about my hair one last time. The next day I made a decision that just felt right… and when I walked into his hospital room carrying my former ponytail in my hand, he smiled a huge smile and said, “You know, I think I was wrong. You look like sh$%&#t with short hair!” He laughed, I laughed, and I hugged him and told him I loved him. He died a few weeks later but I carry a picture with me everywhere I go, a picture of him and I at the hospital that day, as a reminder of the true meaning of love… the willingness to sacrifice for the good of others. 

Sacrifice is a part of life. It’s supposed to be. 

It’s not something to regret. It’s something to aspire to.

~ Mitch Albom

The Tail of the Pony - Part 1

Long ago, when I was in High School, I wanted to grow my hair long. I loved rock and roll music and all the rock stars had long hair, and they got all the girls, right? But… I was young, it was the 70’s, and at our High School they wouldn’t let boys have hair below their collar. For that matter, girls couldn’t have skirts above their knees either. Times were tough back then!

Later, when I in my 20’s and started working for a living, I was old enough to wear my hair anyway I wanted. But…people judged you if you had long hair. They thought you were either a hippie or a bum. So I held off my desire to have long hair in an effort to fit in. I cared a lot about what people thought.

When I hit my late 30’s, everything in my life changed. I met and married a woman who inspired me to greatness. Not that I am great, but she definitely helped me achieve so many great goals in life that I never thought I could achieve. The first thing she did was encourage me to quit caring so much about what other people thought. She helped me realize that it wasn’t how I looked that mattered. It was who I was as a person, my character, work ethic, and morals that mattered.  

So I grew a long blond ponytail, but always kept my hair neat and clean and tied back when I was working. Unfortunately, I did occasionally get funny looks from people, and since I was a business owner who often called on some of the largest corporations in So Cal, I sometimes did have trouble getting my foot in the door. But… with my wife’s encouragement, and her help running the business, we enjoyed tremendous success, opening five branches, and winning dozens of industry awards. But even more important than awards, were the life lessons I learned along the way, especially about judging people, which served me well this past weekend. Let me explain…

A Light Pole fell at a Marriot Hotel in Anaheim Friday and caused a lot of damage. So, I had an emergency call over the weekend to do a Pole Inspection. As I was working, I caught sight of someone watching me. She appeared to be a short, older woman, probably one of the housekeepers because of her Hotel uniform and name tag. I kept working when I heard her ask, “Hey Mister, what are you doing?” My first thought was to ignore her. But then I remembered the ponytail thing, so I stood up and politely responded, explaining how I was checking Light Poles for rust. She asked me several insightful questions and explained that she had noticed there was a problem with the poles rusting a few months ago, and was really glad I was there. She then explained that she is the Senior Service Manager for Marriot and has been with for Marriot for over twenty years. Wow! If I had judged her based on her look, I would have a made a huge mistake. I am so glad I haven’t forgotten the lesson about how judging people based on looks only creates problems for them and me!

A man who trims himself to suit everybody else, 

will soon whittle himself away.

~ Poor Richard’s Philosophy 

Homeless not Helpless

Being homeless doesn’t necessarily mean being helpless. It doesn’t mean you don’t have a heart for helping others either. Let me explain.

When I was Junior in High School, I found myself scared and homeless for the first time in my life. I was living in a sleepy little country town, Fallbrook, north of San Diego when my Dad decided to retire from the USMC. He had landed a new job in San Francisco and decided to move there with my Mom. But I didn’t want to move, so I asked my parents to leave me behind. I was getting good grades in school (most of the time), I had transportation (a beat up 1964 El Camino), I had a good part time job (okay, it only paid $1.75/hour), and I had a girlfriend (or at least I hoped she would become my girlfriend).

I guess I was already a pretty good salesman because I convinced my parents to leave me behind, especially since I had a place to stay. A nearby rancher offered to let me stay in his plywood shack that normally housed workers during the summer. It had electricity and a light, but no running water. Fortunately, there was another shack with a bathroom about 100 yards up the hill. So to me, it felt like I was going to be this cool young man, living on his own, experiencing a really awesome adventure.

The adventure didn’t last. After only 6 months, the ranch hands showed up for their normal work season. I had to leave but I had no place to go. Guess I didn’t think it all the way through. As I packed my meager belongings in the back of my truck, I had a knot the size of a baseball in the pit of my stomach. Fear can be a great motivator. So can hunger. So I decided to start asking my friends (and their parents) if I could do chores or help around their house in exchange for a temporary place to stay. I realized early on that even though I was homeless, I wasn’t helpless. My willingness to help others turned out to be a great way to help myself. One year later, I had made it through High School with a scholarship to UC Berkeley, and enough life lessons to fill a hundred Monday Messages.

Recently I was reminded of my humble homeless beginnings when I was working on a Parking Lot Light Pole Inspection in San Diego. When I got to the rear of the industrial complex, I spotted something unusual behind the parking lot, hidden behind some trees. A picture is worth a thousand words!

Down in their hearts wise men know this truth; 

the only way to help yourself is to help others.

~ Elbert Hubbard

Communication Counts

Last week my wife, Debby, wrote a Monday Message about how some of the most significant moments in life involve words spoken out loud. It was a great message to remind us of how our words, when spoken from the heart, can generate feelings of love, and being appreciated. I think she is right but I would like to take that idea one step further.

As a business owner, who at one time had over 100 employees, I learned a lot over the years. I learned that if you work hard every day, put out an honest effort, and make integrity a necessity, all those things will help you succeed. But the most important thing I learned was something I had plastered on a huge banner right outside my office. The banner read, “Communication is the single most important factor that leads to success in any business… and in any relationship”.

Unfortunately, being able to express yourself clearly, and effectively, is hard for some people. Expressing emotions is even harder, especially for men. But if communication really is the most important factor for success, we ought to be working on it every single day.

My wife and I are deeply in love, even after 26 years of marriage, but we work hard at it. We write each other love letters all the time. We have special words and even secret numbers that we use to express our love. I know it sounds nuts, but if we are in a crowded room with lots of people and lots of noise, we even have hand signals we use to express our love to each other. All of that is communication, and since it’s from the heart, it is definitely the language of love.

Early this morning I was performing an Ultrasonic Pole Inspection at a retail shopping center. I took a break around 10:00am to go into a fast-food restaurant for an iced tea. Before I went in, I texted my wife to ask how her morning was going and to tell her that I love her and that she is always on my mind. I know… I should have used my phone to call her instead, but I was in a hurry to get back to work and texting is so fast! Excuses, excuses!

As I entered the restaurant, I noticed four workers with orange safety vests on. They were the same four guys who had been up on the roof all morning, working in the hot sun. Their job was obviously a lot harder than mine, so I don’t blame them for taking a break. But what I noticed, was that all of them were sitting at separate tables, each one texting intently on his phone. Maybe, just maybe, they were texting their wives about how much they love them. Wouldn’t that be great communication in action!

A good relationship starts with good communication.    

                                                                                   ~ Anonymous

A Treasure to Others

I admit I enjoy texting with friends and family and readily take advantage of the benefits of sending a quick text. Texting allows ongoing communication throughout the week, a seemingly unbroken bond of written words, keeping connections without bother or intrusion. It seems the under 40 crowd especially values the time saved and ease of texting to share messages without having to take a lot of time to do so. As was true when email was invented, more can be accomplished in less time, and with less stress.

However, I believe the spoken word is crucial to our overall wellbeing. We were made to speak out loud, in times of trouble or danger, in times of fun and love, and when it comes to forming relationships of all kinds. The spoken word helps us to clearly convey our thoughts and ideas to our loved ones and friends. The brain is wired to speak, and doing so often is important to brain health and emotional health. Will our brain health decline as text messaging (or the inevitable improvement) gradually cause us not to speak as much as people did 100 years ago?

I hope not because never has the spoken word seemed more important to me than right now. Yesterday, I lovingly embraced my mom because she is losing her ability to speak due to advanced Alzheimer’s. We basically communicate through facial expressions and touch because she is losing the ability to bring words forward, to speak. It is heartbreaking, and yet sometimes she can still say “I love you” when I hug her close. Those are words that are so natural and embedded in her that she is still able to recall them at important times.

Some of the most significant moments in life involve words spoken out loud; words that are heard and with them generate feelings of love, being needed, and being appreciated.  Words that mark special occasions and everyday moments of joy. On the other end of the spectrum, my nephew Dylan is turning two and there is much joy in hearing his newfound words. And oh, how I love hearing any words spoken in my Moms own voice right now. Before you send your next text, remember that your spoken words are a treasure to others. Use them today with regularity, use them with a sense of celebration, and enjoy the luxury of being able to do so.

My Mom

No matter where we come from, there is one language 

we can all speak and understand from birth, 

the language of the heart, the language of love.

                  ~ Imania Margria

The Test of Love

Yesterday was the 4^th of July and everywhere I went flags were flying and people were smiling. Maybe I noticed the smiles because for the first time in 15 months people were mask free. And maybe people were smiling because all of us really needed something to celebrate right now after suffering through such a horrible pandemic. All I know is that when the fireworks started at exactly 9:00pm, my first thought was… I love my country, a place where love and freedom live hand in hand.

Actually, I say that I love my country and I truly do in my heart, but what have I done to show it? I ask that question because as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that love is an “action word”. To love something or someone means you actually have to get your butt up off the couch and go take action. Unfortunately, when it comes to showing my love for my country, I haven’t really done much other than vote and proudly display a flag. As far as showing love to my country, I think my butt has been stuck to the couch far too long and I need to think of more ways to put love into action.

Sometimes I find that putting love into action is easy, like when it comes to loving my wife. She means so much to me that I am constantly looking for ways to express my love. Sometimes it’s a little thing like hiding love notes throughout the kitchen cabinets. Sometimes it’s a big thing like giving up watching the US Open on TV and instead, buying and installing a new TV for her father.

The bottom line is, I love my country so I need to find more ways to show it; and I love my wife, so I need to find new ways to show her my love. But what do I do when I’m supposed to love someone but that particular someone isn’t good to me at all? In my case, it’s my sister who I haven’t heard from in years. We’ve been estranged for a long time, for a lot of reasons, and the whole situation makes me sad. I have reached out to her in the past, as recently as two years ago, but I’ve never heard back from her and probably never will. So why do I care? Because of that action word, love. And also because I recently heard that her diabetes has become life threatening.

When I first heard the news, I tried to ignore it. But then I realized I was being tested. So if I am being tested, and if love really is an action word, and if I truly do love my sister, then I have to take action no matter how I am being treated in return. Why? Because love is patient and love is kind. (I’m pretty sure I read that somewhere.) So I took action and wrote her a letter, filled with love and devoid of anger and bitterness. I hope she reads it, but even if she doesn’t, I will know that I have passed the test.

Writing a letter to my sister was really hard. But I hope by sharing it below, you will be encouraged to reach out to that certain someone in your life that you’re having trouble with… and pass the test yourself!

June 29^th, 2021

Dear Vivian,

I heard through the grapevine that you're not doing well, that diabetes is taking a toll on you and causing you serious problems. That makes me sad and worries me. I have been thinking about you ever since I heard that and thought maybe I would reach out to you.

I know you are not happy with me and that you don’t like me and probably never have… and that’s okay. I am far from perfect and can be a real pain in the ass sometimes! So I probably deserve plenty of criticism. But I’m still your brother, and your still my sister, and you and I are all that is left of the original family of Joan and Allen Thrailkill. We share blood, we share DNA, and we share a lot of good memories despite the few bad ones.

Mostly, I just wanted to tell you I hope you get better soon and that I care about you. So please listen to your doctors and do what they say because life is short enough as it is and your kids and your grandkids and your husband need you. And if you ever need me, please just ask, and I will be there for you.

One other thing I wanted to share, just a brief comment about my faith. In 1988, my marriage was on the rocks, and I was suffering from serious health issues. I will never forget the day I went all by myself to the base of Black Mountain in Rancho Penasquitos and sat on a big hard rock. I sat there for such a long time that my butt started hurting as much as my head, and then I started praying and asking God for help. I told Him I needed His help. That was the first time I had ever asked for God’s help, and something happened that day that changed me for the rest of my life. I didn’t become perfect. I didn’t even become a better person right away. But over time I kept talking to God on a regular basis and I slowly formed a personal connection with Him. That connection has brought me great joy and a level of peace that I can’t really explain in words. I just know that I wake up every day happy and able to face any problem that comes my way. I want that for you as well… peace, joy, and happiness no matter what problems you may be facing!

I live 60 miles away but if you ever need me, or even just want to talk, please call me.

Joe