It's Greek to me

I know. It is a Friday night and I am doing laundry in a remarkably quiet dorm while everyone else is at the employee pub or hanging out with friends. For my fraternity brothers, I'm sure that is disappointing to hear. Well, I do have my 1999 Sigma Chi Grand Chapter t-shirt on -- the one held in Scottsdale, appropriately enough -- and I will be up late resolving a credit card issue during the night audit. So, I promise I will work in a drink at the Roughrider Saloon, beforehand.

Actually, the week flew by. Tomorrow, I will head to Kanab to have five new tires installed on my Jeep. Sure, I could have simply replaced the shredded spare, but after a month-and-a-half of horror stories from North Rim veterans, I realized that before the season is over I would have made this trip more than once. The tire dealer suggested that I should go ahead and get the proper wheels and the deal he offered was too difficult to pass up. He also said it was a slightly bigger tire, so I get the benefit of a taller profile in some poor fellow's rearview mirror. Nothing beats knowing the driver in front of you only sees "J E E P" in huge letters right before you run him over!

I will also do the usual grocery shopping and see if a book my friend Brody ordered at the little hiking/camping/outdoor store has arrived. "Into the Wild" is the title. Lunch will be at the Rocking-V, a cafe my manager, Lorraine, recommends highly.

And then it will be Father's Day. I've sent a card, will phone home and because my father has become computer-literate we might even IM each other. I still cannot believe that we have discussions about wireless routers and DSL modems, but better late than never. Right?

I also find the holiday to be much more than it is traditionally to most people. In the last two days, I have been reminded that even though I do not have children of my own, there are, nevertheless, friends, little brothers and several nephews who continue to let me know that they are on this journey with me, no matter how remote it might seem. Through four e-mails they have acknowledged something special about the bond we share as brothers and the role that I play in their lives.

For Mark Glowacz, it will always be about music. Everytime I hum a few bars of "Lie In Our Graves" out on some trail, I see a Chicago Bears jersey on a front porch on Forest Avenue. He may have a second son on the way, but he will always be that smiling sophomore to me.

Kasey Skala turned 27 on Thursday. We met on my birthday in 2000, the day he pledged Sigma Chi at Drake. We have been best friends ever since and I can always count on Kasey to ask me for advice about something that usually tests my mentoring skills when I least expect it, usually by an IM that begins "Got a minute..."

Troy Smith turned 39 on Friday. He is the definition of a Sigma Chi "little brother." The Super Bowl, a motorcycle, his wedding, endless two-man Trivial Pursuits, and, of course, eighteen years ago today, the neatest 21st birthday present I've ever concocted -- birthday wishes from his hero, Troy Aikman.

And then there is Randolph and his brother, Delton, both Sigma Chis and my nephews. I am not sure which aspect I enjoy more. Delton would appreciate how neat I keep my dorm and that I have threatened Rick several times with torture if he doesn't straighten up his pile of clothes and books. He would also appreciate that I look sharp everyday and greet all the staff with a "good morning" befitting someone who is comfortable being on the property in a managerial role. I am sure Hyatt gets nothing less from him, either.

Randolph would appreciate that I am thinking about that drink I am about to have, but he also is very much the legacy among my fraternity of brothers. It was his e-mail tonight that inspired this entry and it was his e-mail that eloquently summed up how important it is to always make the most of every opportunity and never regret doing something completely "out of the box." He also reminded me that he understands how much we both love our brothers and friends and how incomplete our life would be with them or each other.

Having said that, it's time for that drink, Randy Bob. Here's to the North Rim and wherever life's path takes all of us this weekend and each one after that.

Happy Father's Day, everyone, and happy trails!

P.S. The drink was great, the moon was out and a mist covered the entire canyon adding a certain mysterious backdrop to the bats flying about the veranda. Oh, and our night audit project went without a hitch!