FATHER'S DAY - AN APPRECIATION

FATHER’S DAY is several days away, but I decided to give my appreciation for my Dad and my two sons, Jacob (20 years old) and Michael Sayer (23 years old) early as pictured below.

I always buy my two sons a present on Father's Day - the same thing on my birthday. Just my way of showing my love for them.

The article below, CHICKEN LIPS, was written sitting next to my dad, just weeks prior to his passing from his battle with dementia.

HAPPY FATHERS DAY TO ALL YOU DADS! 

“IT’S A PRIVILEGE, NOT A RIGHT TO BE A DAD.” AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT MY DAD USED TO TELL ME :0)

_________________________________________________

CHICKEN LIPS

BY - Steve Sayer

Bean counters.

Every meat and poultry plant has at least one. These accountants are tasked with tracking costs and revenues in an industry where profit margins are always taut and often ride up and down in the market like a roller coaster at an amusement park.

In the old pre-computer days, everyone knew where those bean counters were located. You could hear their rhythmic adding machines going a hundred miles an hour with rolls of paper falling from their desk and streaming over the trash can while pilling up on the office floor like whipped cream.

I knew well one of those bean counters.

He attended the University of Southern California (USC) after WWII ended; serving his country in the South Pacific and through the decades he became a stalwart fan of his alumni’s football team.

He graduated with a business degree and became a certified public accountant and worked at American Motors for 12 years and then changed jobs and put in 27 years at a plastic molding company.

His remaining four years he worked for a meat packing company located in South Gate, California. It was during this time that we became closer friends and started running together before and after work, including weekends.

We ran 5K’s, 10K’s and marathons together. Anyone who has ever had a workout partner knows how close you can become. If one is struggling on a tough hill, the other offers a pep talk to get them both up and over to the finish line. If one is trying to make an important decision in life, you can talk about it as you run in tandem over paved rolling knolls, scenic beaches, and perfectly manicured golf courses.

One of his job assignments at the meat packing company was to calculate the yield and return derived from cut tests from production. From these figures, the company would know how much to charge their customers.

Everyone at the meat plant liked the bean counter as they teased him to no end.

One production day, several production employees made some false labels that read “Chicken Lips” complete with a price per pound and total weight in pounds. They wanted to see if the bean counter would attempt to find the return and yield based on the in/out weight and price of the chicken lips.

We’d know soon if the bean counter fell for the trick because he’d have to call down to the secretary to see how much those high yielding fresh-organic-never-frozen-gluten-free-cage-free labeled chicken lips were bought at wholesale.

Within minutes, the bean counter called down to the secretary, who was in on the caper and gave the bean counter the price via the speakerphone.

The office erupted.

The bean counter finally entered retirement with his wife as they checked off their bucket list, by buying a 25-foot RV and caravanned with and against the suns daily overhead trek coast-to-coast with a host of friends.

I'm sitting close to the aging General Motors, plastic molder and meat bean counter as I write this blog. The ravages of dementia have stripped my partner’s once brilliant mind that used to play with numbers, percentages and Dewey decimal points with such ease.

Despite all the miles we trudged side by side and through decades of USC National Championships and Heisman Trophy winners that we celebrated in union, he has forgotten me.

I’m a stranger to him today.

He’s approaching his final finish line with my hand cupped gently with his, as I offer him daily pep whispers into his ear that’s supplemented with Beethoven, via a cordless headset.

I’m doing everything that I possibly can think of until he finally lets loose of my hand and grabs ahold of another; who’s grip is much wiser and loving than any one of us could ever imagine and offer. That's comforting for me to know.

It’s tough to see the bedridden bean counter whose body now resembles a WWII prisoner of war because his mind has forgotten to swallow.

Especially if that bean counter and personal adviser has been your father and best friend for 60 years and running.

As this year comes to an end, as does his life, I am grateful for the time I have had with him.

Merry Christmas everyone, I wish you and yours a safe, healthy and profitable 2017.

_________________________________________________

If your dad is still alive, give him a hug and tell him how much you love him while you can. I did. And I'm so glad that I did "many a time" before his passing. I have zero regrets, except I think of him still every day and sunny night. Especially on Father Day. :o)

12/23/2016 meatingplace.com