People Happen, Keep Punching...

Written by David DiCrescenzo on . Posted in Op-Ed

A lifelong friend reached out to me the other day to share something that happened to him.  “Bill,” (not his real name) has been a local, “one man show” housepainter for as long as I can remember and he is very, very good at it.  Over the course of his career, he has painted countless homes and individual rooms and has always worked out any issues with his clients, successfully navigated mid-project change orders, and did what he had to do in every case to make sure he got it right   Even people who may not like him personally, respect his skill.

Anyway, “Bill” recently met a new client who had a project for him to tackle, and he thought he had all the information he needed, so he started preparing the rooms and quickly got the primer applied.  Almost before the primer had a chance to dry, the client, while claiming to like what he'd accomplished, began touching up his work.  Normally, he would not have been all warm and fuzzy with that and would have much preferred to discuss the matter and do all of the touch ups himself, however, knowing that this particular client is a talented artist and respecting her ability to create some amazing canvases, he didn’t really mind this initial touch up, because what the heck, it was after all her canvas being painted. 

However, what got his goat was that the client decided that she was actually looking for a lot more than she apparently thought he was capable of doing and had a friend, who was a big-name contractor come in and totally rework what he had done with different colors and textures.  All that remained of what he had completed was two or three small accent walls that got buried in the now completely repainted project.

Needless to say, “Bill” was stunned by what he saw.  Not because it wasn’t good, but because if the client had approached him and told him more, shared the new color palettes and ideas, he could certainly have produced an equal or better result than the big name contractor.  Additionally, she had already sent along his payment and wanted him to keep it because she said she did like what he had done.

Before discussing this with me, my friend had run the gamut of feeling insulted, disrespected, angry, horrified, with a lot more emotions thrown in.  Having been through the wringer quite a bit myself lately, I knew of only one thing that I could tell my friend that would ease his angst and frustration.  

Like so many, he has been going through a lot over the past several years, however, even more so, as a lifelong friend, I am aware that he has been taking more than his share of punches lately.  Mostly small stuff really, but just a ton of it, and almost all of it coming from people within his inner circles.  Sadly, knowing him as well as I do, I know it has been causing him to be more and more reclusive and he has been keeping his distance from most people.

Regarding this particular situation, we both came to the same easy conclusion that she actually did not like what he had done, and he will be picking the crow feathers out of his teeth for a while over it.  As far as the tidal wave of emotions involved, I suggested that we do the best and only thing we could do, and that is to give this situation to our Lord in prayer.  And we did just that.  

Both of us came away from that prayer with a refreshed outlook which was essentially the same for both of us.  No matter our best intentions or efforts in any given situation, the road ahead will always have bumps and potholes and along the way some people are going to throw punches.  It sucks, but we cannot take it personally.  We have to put on our thickest skin and keep moving down the road, and give it all to Him, because at the end of the day, we serve a mighty God who sent His Only Son to take our much deserved punishment on a Roman Cross 2000 years ago, and everything else pales in comparison to that.

After our discussion and prayer, “Bill” and I, both of us being businessmen as well as followers of Jesus who do our best to do as we believe He would have us do, agreed that since what he painted was not to the client’s liking, the unopened envelope with the enclosed uncashed check would be returned.  The time spent would simply be chalked up to experience.

My friends, this situation is a great reminder for all of us.  Things don’t always play out as expected so whatever you do and whatever your days look like, always remember that until we are called Home, yesterday is history, the sun will rise tomorrow, there will be storms to navigate, and most of us will get to climb whatever hills there are to climb, and for all the “Bills” out there, there will be other clients and other houses to paint.

 

Pearl Harbor, Eighty Years Ago Today

Written by David DiCrescenzo on . Posted in Op-Ed

Imagine if you will it is eighty years ago, you just turned eighteen, are fresh out of high school, and you decided like so many at the time that you weren’t college material, so you chose to enlist in the Navy with a handful of your buddies.

The year is 1941, it is the beginning of the summer, and there is relative peace in your world.  You are aware of the rumblings of the escalating skirmishes in Europe via newsreels at the movies and from sitting around the family radio, and you might have been aware that there were serious discussions going on in DC with the Japanese, but that seems almost like another planet away, your hormones are raging, and while you’ll miss your family and that sweet gal down the street, the Navy offers adventure and a chance to see something different than Main St. in Podunk, USA.

Fast forward a few months to the end of August.  You finished basic training, and except for one of your buddies, you all got assigned and are on your way to the sweetest duty in the Navy.  The US Pacific Fleet in the Hawaiian Islands, which meant tropical sunsets, liberty on the beach, girls, fun, and…Pearl Harbor.

For the next three months, it was everything and more than you had hoped for, and the one friend who was stationed stateside was the brunt of lots of good-natured ribbing because of the fun he was missing out on.

And then it happened.  You and three of the guys you enlisted with were on shore leave for the weekend and decided to get up early on Sunday to do some fishing.  The boat was ready and waiting, and you were in your car on the way for a day of fun.  

Suddenly, at 7:55 am, you heard what sounded like an explosion coming from the direction of the harbor, then another, and another, and then you noticed the sky was full of smoke and flames, and full of planes that weren’t ours with their guns blazing.  A peaceful day of fishing just turned really ugly and all the rumblings you heard before and your recent training just got very real.

You were “only” five miles from your ship; however your adrenaline is pumping, you are dodging bombs and other cars, as well as sporadic strafing from enemy planes in the city streets, getting nauseous from the smells of everything burning and the sights of people dying in the streets everywhere you looked, the five miles seemed like 500, and suddenly you envied your friend who was stationed stateside.

By the time you zigzagged your way through the vicious attack with death and destruction and people screaming in terror all around, and got within running distance of your ship, you saw it ablaze and sinking at its pier.  You told your buddies that it was time to make a run for it and try to fight back, but when you turned back to make sure they heard you, you saw through the swirling, choking smoke that the two in the back seat were dead and your friend in the front passenger seat was clinging on to his shredded arm and his life, and was going into shock.  At that point, you mustered what little sensibility you had left and started screaming for a MEDIC.  You held your friend and frantically tried to stop the bleeding while screaming through the smoke, tears, and horror for help, only to watch his eyes go cold as he drifted off into Eternity.

You may or may not have believed in God and Heaven before that morning, but you certainly got served a huge taste of hell, and in an instant, you became a man and a hardened warrior.  You swore to everything you held dear that if you somehow managed to survive this hellish nightmare, you friends will not have died in vain, and you would fight until the enemy was beaten and beaten hard.

In the next few days, while ships still smoldered in the harbor, men and women were still dying in the makeshift hospitals, and the sounds of entrapped men banging on pipes could still be heard, hundreds of thousands more lined up across the nation to join the fight.

America was at war and all bets were off.

For those who haven’t been taught or don’t understand history; with just a few adjustments and some different players, we in America are on the cusp of another devasting war.  We had our modern “Pearl Harbor” on 9/11, however I believe we haven’t seen the last of such attacks.  

In less than a year we have gone from a respected and feared nation to the wolves scratching at our doors, Russia is about to attack the Ukraine, China continues to build up their military and waiting with a grin on their face while we continue to fund that build up, North Korea has been more or less silent of late which is alarming, and Iran is looking to attack our only ally in the Mideast while the current administration does very little beyond trying to force useless mandates down our throats and ensure our military is in lockstep with “big gay”.

The war clouds are gathering rapidly and the signs are everywhere.  Don’t start or end your days without your spiritual umbrellas, and don’t be surprised if we wake up one morning soon and witness another huge taste of hell, only without men and women like those from the Greatest Generation who lost 2403 of their friends and family members that day.

God help us…

A Mother's Heartbreak

Written by David DiCrescenzo on . Posted in Op-Ed

Did you ever meet someone for a brief moment that for no reason you can put your finger on, that person left an indelible mark..?  Well, let me tell you about “Margaret”.  I met “Margaret” I think about ten years ago, and we only talked briefly, however we have kept in contact since.

“Margaret” has a story of tragedy, of endless love, of great pain, of being the epitome of a strong mama bear, and a woman whose eyes are perpetually stung with the bitterness of tears wrought by a broken heart for a baby boy who grew up and developed an unshakable monkey on his back; a son who has been in the “system” for so long, it probably seems normal to him.

She shared this story recently and while it only touches on the harsh reality she lives with on a daily basis, I believe that maybe her son’s story and her pain might help others.  So, with her permission and with the hope that it helps others, I am letting you all take a look at a page in the story of “Margaret” and her son.  Please keep them both, and so many others in similar circumstances in your prayers.

“Boy, did this hit home. I started letting good friendships go in 2013 when Josh started going off the rails. I avoided people. I turned down invitations to parties and family functions. Over the next five years it got so much worse. I actually purged phone numbers from my phone. I deleted contacts. I didn’t want to talk to anyone who knew us from before. Josh was in a cycle of overdoses, rehab, juvenile detention. Most parents are lucky enough to never find their son near death, gray and seizing. I found out that I had superhuman strength to take a door off the hinges. I also found out that this was too horrible for normal people to know about. So, I kept it to myself. I realized that there was no way I could get remarried with all of this going on. We were living in next level hell. My job was to protect Ethan and Emma from Josh while Josh was busy trying to kill himself and protect Josh from reaching his goal. Most parents are fortunate enough never to have the police beating on their door in the middle of the night. Most parents will never have a helicopter over their house at 3am and three K-9 units looking for their kid. I had five cops in my kitchen and when I realized the helicopter was over my house, I said, “Well, we’ve really kicked white trash up a notch.” No matter how many times I told Josh he was on a trajectory to prison, he didn’t listen. He never listened. He was only ever sorry when he was locked up. I never wanted an apology. I wanted changed behavior. I wanted him to stop destroying himself. I wanted him to see his worth. I wanted him to claw himself out of the hole he was in and defy the horrible crimes that had been committed against him. He’s now in the Central Florida processing center waiting to be sent to a Florida State prison. My baby, who talked in full sentences before he was one. My son who was so hilarious. My son who won’t even tell my how many times he’s been revived with Narcan. I want to pray “whatever it takes” but the last time I did that, my husband got diagnosed with leukemia and died so that prayer is not crossing my lips ever again. The only thing I can say is that he knows I love him. That’s it. Hopefully it’s enough for however long his life is. 

REPOSTED FROM A FRIEND: “There's a reason why parents of big kids shut down when their kids hit the teenage years.

There's a reason why moms stop talking to other parents at pick-up lines and dads avoid people at all costs.

You know that phrase little kids, little problems. Big kids, bigger problems? It is so true.

And if you are lucky enough to raise a teenager that never drank or smoked or did drugs, if you are lucky enough to have a child that never got arrested for a misdemeanor or snuck out or cheated on a test, if you are lucky enough never to feel like you were just a complete and utter failure as a parent because of the behavior of your kid despite your best efforts, consider it just that: lucky.

Because for most big kids who do something bad, it is usually not from bad parenting as much as the teen making a bad decision.

And we need to sit on that for a second.

The Longest Day

Written by David DiCrescenzo on . Posted in Op-Ed

Try to imagine for a moment if you can that you are probably fresh out of High School, or maybe just a bit older, maybe you had a girlfriend or wife, maybe not.  Heck, you maybe never even had your first beer or cigarette.

None of that matters though because in a very short space of time, you went from whatever you were used to, to watching our nation become engulfed in a war a million miles away from your favorite fishing hole, bowling alley, mountain top, or whatever great memory you had, to doing your part and proudly joining the military, to finding yourself feeling alone on a landing craft which was tossing in the rolling sea causing a lot of the guys around you to turn green and toss their breakfast.  

The closer you got to the unseen shore, the louder the gunfire sounded, the thicker the smoke and the mixed smell of blood, vomit, and waste from guys who may have lost all control.  Some of the guys were silent, some prayed silently or out loud, and for too many of them, whatever they were doing at that moment before the front of that craft opened to merciless enemy machine gun fire was the very last thing they ever did.

If you survived that moment, now you faced the ordeal of making it past the dead or dying bodies of men who were alive only moments ago in a sea turned red with their blood, by the countless booby traps and sharp, jagged iron structures designed to rip you to shreds.  All the while, the incessant machine gun fire was pouring down from multiple positions above you.  

Fire, smoke, death, the sounds of men screaming in pain mixed with explosions, tanks, a pounding surf; that was your existence if you made it.  In short, you got a taste, a glimmer of what you imagine that hell must be like.

This was your first time away from home and every next moment could be your last; this was what so many brave men experienced on our behalf on a fateful day seventy-seven years ago today.

 

As we remember this day and their sacrifice, let us honor them by not letting the enemies of our nation, foreign or domestic, destroy what they fought for on that day and for the agonizing months thereafter.  There are not a lot of them left today, so if you are blessed to know one of the survivors of that day, thank them from the bottom of your heart, because without them, none of us could do what we do today. 

The New "F" Word

Written by David DiCrescenzo on . Posted in Op-Ed

It seems like yesterday.  Eight long years ago I was witness to a local/regional case of blatant voter fraud that rattled me and so many others who were with me to the core.  You can read about that debacle here.

At that time, the man, Allen West, who was the focus of that political mayhem was someone who was and is well respected and admired by hundreds of thousands, if not millions of Americans.  Sadly, Congressman West did not prevail in that attempt at a second term of office, and we sat with our jaws on the floor as his victory was stolen from him and us by the same corrupt party that is now attempting to steal the re-election of arguably the greatest president in our nation’s history.

Just as with Congressman West, this president was and is immensely popular, had countless supporters at every event while their respective opponents had only handfuls show up at theirs.

As I write this, there is still good reason for hope that Donald J. Trump will prevail, however that is not in our hands; it never was, and it remains up to Him.  Yeah, THAT Him.  

We the People and our nation suffered greatly during the eight years of the previous administration and I believe, as many do, that we were given a final chance at maybe turning the “SS America” around under the leadership of the current president, and we blew it.  We blew it because we are no less unrepentant than we were before, in fact I believe we are even more so because things were starting to look good again and caution was thrown to the wind.  Therefore I believe it is very possible that God is finally done with us as a nation.  I certainly wouldn’t blame Him as we do not deserve His Grace.

I absolutely expect to hear the normal blah, blah, blah about this article.  Comments like “get over it, your guy lost”, “you’re some kind of a “religious” zealot” and all the rest.  

However, now as back when they stole the election from Allen West, and a number of others since to practice and prepare for this election, I will offer the same basic response as I did back then with the names and titles changed.  

Yes, I unashamedly admit that I fully support President Trump and he will always be my President, however, beyond that; I really want to believe in the system.  Like so many of us, I used to, but I haven’t since that debacle in 2012, and I never will again.  This was not an honest contest as anyone with half an ounce of common sense can clearly see.  If I believed that my preferred candidate lost legitimately, I would shake his hand and offer my condolences, and I would, however sadly, congratulate the victor.  However, this is not the case.  This entire election was a sham and a shame, and a stain on our history.

As a final note, ever since that original mess occurred, I have done everything I could to change the system.  I put my butt on the line, got involved and teamed up with several associates, and we spoke to lots of people at lots of events, we screamed from the roof tops, made calls, sent emails, and we got in front of party leaders and elected officials to plead our case.  I even wrote down some solutions, (which you can read here) that as a recent candidate for local office myself I now recognize probably wouldn’t work as well as I had initially imagined.  Suffice it to say, one learns a lot about the system when running for office.  

None of it mattered anyway since no one who can and could do anything is or was willing to do a damn thing more than offering lip service or canning a few SOEs over this critical issue in the non-election years.  It is only when elections are upon us or in the immediate aftermath that people get focused on it.

However, in the end and for what it’s worth, I, along with millions of others will never give up this fight for our nation.  The left has done everything in its power to shut this president down since before he was elected, which is interesting because most of those same people loved him before that, and they sure as hell accepted his money.

I have lost a few friends and may likely lose a few more along the way, which is fine because my country has to take precedence.  We are in a long term fight for our very survival, and it is long past time for men and women of courage and fortitude to stand their ground regardless of the cost.  

Enough is enough…!