There is not much someone like me can add to convey or capture the grief felt from the Texas floods. I am lucky to have my family completely intact in my dry corner of the country.

So, I am aware that anything I write will ring hollow. However, even though I tried to immediately space it from my mind, the thought of losing my children to such a savage disaster has entered my head. Sloan is the age of some of the girls who lost their lives while attending Camp Mystic. They went to swim, make friends, sing songs, and grow closer to God—all things that scream my daughter’s name. I couldn’t imagine her going to camp and not coming back.

The other story that rips my heart is that of Blair and Brooke Harber. They went to visit their grandparents and brought their rosaries with them. Sadly, the waters carried the sisters away around 3:30 a.m. on Friday. They were found deceased 15 miles from their cabin…their hands locked together in an incredible display of sisterhood.

Some of the acts of heroism have been documented. A Coast Guard rescue swimmer named Scott Ruskan, 26, is credited with saving 169 people from the floods, including Camp Mystic survivors. Not bad for his first rescue mission. By my count, he saved nearly seven people for every year of his young life. He had this to say about his heroic actions:

I’m just a dude. I chose to enlist in the Coast Guard. Anyone is able to do this. Anyone’s able to do this job; if you raise your right hand, do it. So, I’m just happy I was given the opportunity to help these people out.

Yep, anyone is able, but most take the route that I did and don’t. During such a dark tragedy, the heroism and humility of Ruskan brings a glimmer of respite. Please pray for those who have died, those who have lost loved ones, those who are helping with the recovery effort, and everyone else impacted by this disaster. Don’t Blink.

I had the chance to spend a lot of time with my dad during his latest trip around the sun. And trust me, I never take it for granted after going several years where I would only see him a couple times every 12 months. It is a blessing to live in the same county as him.

Stuffing my face with pizza while hanging with my dad this past fall.

But back to the time spent together during his stint as a 67-year-old. We attended games, sailed on a cruise, celebrated holidays, worshipped at church, chowed down at restaurants, drank beers on the deck, and much more.

My dad and I on the cruise in April…we had a lot of fun!

Perhaps my favorite memory with him though occurred shortly after his birthday. On my last day at Washington State University, he traveled with me to Pullman. He walked around campus while I took care of business and handed in my equipment/lap top/phone. Once all the formalities had played out, I invited him to my office. He hung out with me for those last few minutes and then helped me carry my few boxes to the vehicle.

I took this photo of my dad in my old WSU office a couple moments before we walked out for the last time.

What made such a seemingly mundane moment so special? I think it was the fact that I got to have him by my side as a I closed a chapter of my life. Taking the job at WSU was a nice career progression but more importantly it re-united me with my parents and siblings. After living out-of-state for 15 years, it was nice to return to Washington. It was also really nice to work at my dad’s alma mater. He earned his undergraduate degree at WSU and he bleeds crimson and gray. His pride for the Cougs rubbed off on me when I was a kid. Taking a job at WAZZU was cool for both of us. Ending my tenure by walking off campus with him just seemed fitting.

My dad and I pose for a photo inside the Field House prior to a WSU game. He is a true Coug.

And the burgers and shakes at Cougar Country before we left Pullman was the cherry on top. 😋

The burgers we had at Cougar Country were good but so was this turkey my dad carved during Thanksgiving 2024.

I want to wish my dad a very happy 68th birthday. I am grateful for all he does for me and my family. I admire how he fills his days when he is not around grandchildren by volunteering for Hospice and the local food bank. If that wasn’t enough, you won’t find a better event management staffer when you encounter him at a sporting event or concert. But even if you stripped away his grandfather duties, his service to the community, and his many retirement activities, one thing would still remain: an incredibly awesome human being.

My dad working an EWU football game as part of his gig with Allied Universal event management.

Cheers, dad! Don’t Blink.

On the way to work today, I listened to the on-air personalities of Hits 1 discuss something that really “bugged” them. The guy who led off the topic described his annoyance at those who give nicknames to people they don’t know. He then went on to list common generic nicknames such as “boss,” “hoss,” “buddy,” and “chief.”

However, the group of commentators focused mostly on “boss.” Aside from the term being disrespectful and annoying, they also called it “condescending.”

When it comes to my personal preference, I don’t mind generic nicknames. And, actually, out of the ones listed above, I don’t mind “boss” most of all. In fact, I actually like it.

Whenever someone calls bestowed on me in a customer service situation. For example, when I go to Take 5 for an oil change, the employees there will usually call me “boss.”

In my view, “boss” is the new “sir.” Of course it depends on the tone used, but mostly I am called “boss” in a humble way that conveys I am a valued customer and what I say is going to be granted. From the way that I see it, even though I am not a real boss in the context, the term seems to shift power to me. I appreciate it.

So if you are someone who uses the term “boss” a lot to address people you don’t know, please don’t let the people from Hits 1 deter you from doing so. You can call me “boss” any day. Don’t Blink.