I don’t know about you, but time seems to pass by faster the older I get. I’m not sure why, but maybe it’s because, we tend to get busier as we mature. Our adult lives are full… full of kids, work, relationships, love, conflict, good times and bad. We’re so distracted by the business of life, each time we allow ourselves to pause and reflect for that rare precious moment, our journey seems to have covered such a long distance, but taken such a short time. Continue reading
Author Archives: Ben Nelson
Guess Who’s Not Coming to Dinner
My wife and I were having dinner at our friend’s house, when the subject turned to politics. (Surprise!) Our friend “Sue” was angry because her “local representative” had done something that was contrary to her wishes. Despite the kick under the table from my wife (she knew what was coming) I couldn’t resist. “So, do you really think that your elected representative should always make decisions that reflect your own opinion?” I asked rubbing my shin. Continue reading
Dog to the Rescue
If you watch the news or read the paper it’s quite easy to become discouraged about how people treat each other. Compassion, understanding and tolerance seem to be in short supply. But someone always seems to come along just in time to restore my faith in the human heart.
My wife and I are “Dog People”. We don’t really own a dog; we just share a home with an 11-year-old Jack Russell Terrier named Molly. Now, we love Molly very much, but she does have a few quirks. She will go from calm, sweet and loving to spinning around in one place for no apparent reason, to staring at the last known location of a lizard for hours, then straight to her “Sling-Blade” character who will attack a dog the size of a horse or the top of our friend Cheryl’s head (sorry again Cheryl). So, naturally my wife Lori and I wanted another dog… not a different one mind you…ANOTHER one. Continue reading
Fireflies, Watermelon, and Whip-poor-wills
Summertime in South Florida is not just another season. Mother Nature flexes her muscles this time of year, showing us who is really in charge. Regardless of what we say, I don’t think that those of us who remain rooted here this time of year are accustomed to the heat, the humidity, the storms and the bugs (I’ve been waiting 55 years to get acclimated)… we basically just accept it and go about our business. Well, what there is left of it after many of our friends and neighbors head back up North. But for all the negatives that one can think of about Southwest Florida summers, there is a strange duality to this time of year because there are also some remarkable and wonderful things that occur as well.
As a child growing up here, I knew that the coming of summer meant long uncomfortable nights spent with no air conditioning, waiting for a breeze that never came, but it also meant that when the summer rains came the temperature would immediately (albeit very briefly) drop 20 degrees and the air would smell clean, sweet and alive. That first rumble of thunder for the season sounded strange and wonderfully welcome after 8 months of dry season and it still does. School was also out, just in time to play in the puddles that accumulated outside the house. Continue reading
A Gift from my Father
As a parent, I have always found it interesting to know that despite all of my careful planning and well thought out lectures, my children always seemed to see through my attempt to mold them and instead chose to learn things that I had not intended to teach, things that likely have more to do with who I am than I would care to admit. I think (hope) that all parents and children have this in common and when I think of all the lessons I’ve learned from my father, I am reminded of a particular story about his childhood. Continue reading
An Investment in Trust
In 1980, at the age of 26, I bought the family construction business. The deal came complete with hefty payments and several pieces of heavy machinery that were well beyond their useful life.
The machine that I relied on most every day was also the one in the worst condition. The 1959 Bantam Truck Crane could mightily and safely dig dirt, and set seawalls and dock pilings on a job site, but it was a smoking, sputtering, rusted out hulk on the highway. I know, I know… it was totally irresponsible on my part, but it was all I had to work with at the time, so I used it… until the State Department of Transportation pulled me over at the corner of Old 41 and Bonita Beach Road. Continue reading
The Other Ben Nelson 