For The Good of Order

It's that time when we will soon note the seasonal change as the summer sun loses its power giving way to the fall color collages. Those carefree summer school-vacation days now give way to the regimentation of school activities and the dependence upon bells and buses. Even the sport seasons shift bleacher arrangements. The baseball season reaches a playoff crescendo with the crocodile-tears from those lovable Cubs Fans singing that familiar song entitled, "Wait Till Next Year.'

I suppose my lifetime of attending school and then a thirty-nine year teaching career caused me to not only become comfortable with regimentation but embrace a predictable routine. If you tell me the event is scheduled at eight o'clock, I will not arrive at 8:01; I expect such attitude/behavior reciprocation. Just a few days ago, I was discussing this with my son and he suggested that life works better for him when he does not hold expectations of people; he is a much better man than his old-man embracing such a relationship approach. However, I grew up feeling all kinds of expectations and I busted my ass trying to meet every expectation as if it was a competitive challenge. Speaking of competitive situations, I never had an endless list of expectations of the players that I coached; actually, I had just three expectations: (1) be on time, (2) pay attention and (3) work hard. I would bet that every employer of my players had the same expectations...you're welcome guys!

I recall vividly that my father 'expected' me to respect my mother. Once I sassed her and he smacked me across the mouth; never disrespected his sweetheart again. At age 13, I was expected to work as a delivery-boy at my aunt's grocery store every Saturday from 8A.M. until 4P.M.; I made  $$4.00 for the day. During my dating teen-years when I was playing high school basketball and baseball, I had no work opportunities. My mother did not give me date money but said, "You can earn $5.00 waxing the hardwood floors. Our entire home had hardwood floors in every room. If the floors did not need waxing, she could always find dirty windows inside/outside. The expectations had clear guidelines.

My father always maintained that the hours after midnight were 'shallow-hours.' and  he said once and only once, "Don't let me have to come looking for you during shallow hours!" A curfew-expectation! My parents had great work ethic and looked upon a college education with some skepticism; it was uncommon in their respective families for an 18-year old boy to pass by the industrial/chemical plants, which offered a paycheck and 'go' to college. In fact, I was the first in both families to receive a college degree. I shall always remember the words my father left me with as he drove off from Illinois State University after dropping me off for that freshman year, "Boy, he said, I expect you to have a job in four years."

If not having expectations of other people works for you then hooray for you. I on the other hand  have expectations of everyone in my life and I expect them to feel the same about me; I'll meet your expectations so dammit, you all meet mine!