Everyday Heroism

This lady re-created my save!

The business segment I lead (yeah, that's right - I'm a pretty big deal) has an annual recognition program celebrating our public sector customers and the work they do. We call it the Everyday Heroes Award, and it honors law enforcement and other public servants who use our products to make their communities safer. One of the cool things I get to do is present the award to the agency that wins each year - last year I was on the local news in Springfield, MA after I presented the award to the Springfield PD for their work apprehending a rape suspect who was later convicted.

I don't, myself, really engage in much heroism, so I'm really pleased to be able to tell all of you about a series of things that happened within just a few days last week. After you read of them, you'll be - like me - wondering where I can find a tailor to sew me a costume.

First, as I was perusing the aisles at our local Trader Joe's, I noticed a bag of sandwich bread placed precariously on the top shelf start to wobble. I was roughly 15 feet away when it became clear that the loaf was going to tumble to the ground. I took two quick steps, reached out with my left hand, and snagged the bread as it plummeted to earth. I might've crushed a couple of slices, but rest assured that the customer that ultimately purchased that bread did so confident that it'd never been on the dirty floor.

Cristiano Ronaldo re-created my look! Very close to reality!

Later that same night, into the early morning, my wife woke me up in a panic. She'd heard a noise from downstairs, and felt certain that there was an intruder in the house. I don't own a gun, or really anything one could use for personal protection, except for maybe a baseball bat. Which is conveniently stored in the garage. I was wearing nothing but boxer shorts, my traditional sleepwear. But I'm a man. I'm 48. So I did my duty, walking downstairs mostly naked, stomping around a bit, checking in the pantry and closets, and heading all the way to our basement to confront the intruder. Who didn't exist. Quite sure I'd have put a hell of a fright into him had I found him.

A couple of days later, I found myself coaching my soccer team of U15 girls. We were one player short of even teams, so I needed to jump into our practice-ending scrimmage to even things up. I sprained my ankle pretty good a couple weeks back, so I was in a bit of pain. Didn't hear me complain, even a little. Took one for the team, and for America.

Finally, I'll take credit for a couple of things my kids did. In the wake of the admissions scandal that ensnared Lori Loughlin and Felicity Huffman/William H. Macy, my 17 year-old daughter came to me with an earnest case of guilt over her privilege in being white and reasonably well-off. We've engaged a college counselor to help her navigate the admissions process, and while the woman we work with hasn't yet offered us any shortcuts, we're still laying out a decent chunk of change, and my kidlet felt guilty about it. I told her that she didn't have to apologize for the advantages she has, but that she should remember them and focus on figuring out how she can help people who aren't as lucky. Pretty solid Dadding, I think.

That's my kid, front and center.

Her sister, who just turned 15, went through a similar test of character the next day. She's a competitive cheerleader, and she works harder at it than at anything else she's ever done in her life. She made her high school varsity squad as a freshman, and she started this club season competing on a decent, if unspectacular, Level 3 team at her gym. Due to a few factors, including injuries and indifferent effort, the coaches decided that the team would compete as a Level 2 team for one competition. (If you really care about what the levels mean, email me and I'll find a link. I assume you don't.) They performed well, and the coaches - who strike me as indifferent in their own right - asked the kids on the team if they wanted to compete at that level for the remainder of the season (and have a higher likelihood of success) or move back to Level 3. The vote was 19-1. My kid was the '1'. She wanted to do the thing that was harder rather than the thing that was more likely to result in winning. I have no earthly idea where that ethic came from. We'll just assume some excellent Momming.

I've you've made it this far, I figure you're as impressed with me as I am with myself. Lord, it's hard to humble sometimes.

Believe it or not, I'm walkin' on air. Never thought I could feel so free.