Doofus

Last night my daughter participated in the annual Light The Night walk that benefits the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. This is her fifth year doing the walk and she is now cancer free. Good one God! It is a family affair and both the boys and husband Chris participate. This year her goal was to raise $500 but instead she raised $1725. I am so proud of her.

Now, back to me. I have been called a “doofus” more today than I have in the rest of my life. It is an achievement of sorts which I shall remember for quite some time. I am going to file it with the trophies and ribbons that I received over the years for just taking up a spot on a team or in a class. I have all of my old report cards which my parents kept for me. They tossed out all of the old comic books that would have conservatively been worth a house in a nice neighbourhood or a vacation home somewhere very warm. Nope, mom and dad saved the report cards. You know the ones that really make you proud of yourself. “Kenny is punctual.” “Kenny finally learned how to skip!” “Kenny needs to work harder on his mathematics.” “Kenny is well liked.” “Kenny should pay attention in class.” “Kenny has a pleasant personality.” Well, you get the idea.

I was on the community soccer board for a number of years as the girl’s co-ordinator. One year, I think it was the second last, the president made an announcement at our monthly meeting that I was to be presented with a certificate from the mayor to honour my contributions to the community. Well, I damned near burst a button or two! I don’t think I heard another word for the rest of the meeting, I was that moved. I had to hold back the tears of joy. I couldn’t wait to tell Louise, the kids and my mom and dad. The meeting ended and the president of the sports association came over and shook my hand. He said “Congrats Ken, you have done a great job.” I told him that I couldn’t believe that I was getting this. He told me that everyone else on the board has one, so it was my turn. You know when you blow up a balloon and let it go, how it zips around the room? That was my pride that night. Oh well, at least I have a framed certificate from the city...somewhere.

The scouts gave me some tokens of recognition over the years, which have since been mislaid. I keep meaning to dig them out and put them up on the wall. The Blood Services people wanted me to go to a banquet to honour myself and probably a hundred others for passing the fifty donation milestone. I am now at 57 which is honour enough.

I have never cared too much for these framed pieces of paper. They are nice and all, but really, nothing says “Thank you” like cold, hard cash. The real joy is to see the good in real life. They won’t let me watch operations, something about my not being sterile, so I have to settle for watching the men and women that were in scouts and soccer. Not late at night through their windows, but mainly on facebook. What wonderful, intelligent, productive people they are. I hope that I had some impact, but I would imagine most came from their parents and friends. Ahhh...Fuck It, I am going to take credit! It was all me!

Today I went down to watch Louise and her outrigger races, something a kind and loving husband does. She kept introducing me as her first husband. Later in the day we were at Costco at the drug cash out area and I brought Louise a bottle of cough syrup to buy. She had already paid, so Louise asked the lady if she could ring in this item her doofus husband just brought. The women laughed. Hmmmm. Leaving the store my wife told the person at the door that there were two receipts because of her “doofus” husband. More laughter. Since then, It has been “doofus” this and “doofus” that. I am a little sick of it, but I still love her.