Embrace “Boredom”

By Ron Ciancutti

It was just another day. My wife and I had done some Saturday shopping: one store for paper products, another for meat and groceries. As we often do on Saturdays, we decided to stop for lunch. Since there were no more kids at home, we were in no hurry to race to the house to put everything away. Life had a nice, easy pace to it with the last child away at college and the others raising their own families.

The waiter was filling the water glasses when my wife’s phone rang. It was our youngest, who is on a rugby team. He was calling from an ambulance. He had gone head to head with an opposing player and had gashed his noggin a good couple of inches along the hairline. Evidently, he was bleeding profusely and he seemed to be fighting the panicky, shock-like shakiness that can be part of a concussion.

My wife and I sat in Cleveland, Ohio, completely helpless as the ambulance took him to a hospital in Kalamazoo, Mich., where the “away” game was being played. Within the hour, he was stabilized, stitched, and fully coherent. He had gone through the concussion protocol and was in the clear. We heaved a sigh of relief and debated whether to meet the bus when it returned to campus. On the phone he begged us not to do so. “Dad, really, I am FINE.” We respected his wishes.

Second Guessing
But the whole notion of what could have been rattled us to the bone all weekend. What if he had been hit in a spot that caused a concussion? What if the collision had knocked him out cold? What about brain injuries or even death? What about, what about, what about?

And what about our overall response? Do we take him out of sports? Do we want him to go through life fearing anything risky? He would be very upset and might refuse to quit if he was told to do so. At 20 years old—by law—it’s his call anyway, not ours. He actually called and asked me for “permission” to go back in the game since they stitched him up so fast. When I said “no,” he wasn’t very happy, so his courtesy to obeying parental-imposed rules might not last much longer.

So what do we do? The fact is there is more than one good answer, depending on where we stand.

When my daughters’ boyfriends pulled in the driveway with their new cars, letting “my girl” drive off with “that boy” was never an easy call. The first few times were devastating (that’s why I rode along).

Then came time for my children to take the wheel and drive themselves. Talk about sleepless nights! Finally, it became easier to sit on the porch and nurse a hot drink instead of waiting up, staring at the ceiling in bed. I remember the sigh of relief when those headlights finally turned into our driveway.

A Comfortable Routine
See, if we break it down “mathematically,” life has several patterns. We wake up at pretty much the same time every day. We may or may not have coffee or shower the first thing in the morning. No matter what we do, the fact is that, from the moment we rise, we fall into some semblance of a routine. And though sometimes we complain about the boring routine called life, there is comfort there. Routine has stability wrapped around it, and it gives security. Ask any spouse who has lost a mate, any parent facing the “empty nest,” any family with a kid in the service—the thing they miss most is the presence of the important people in their life sitting at the dinner table, falling asleep on the couch after a good meal, raking leaves in the backyard with Dad. It’s the simple satisfaction of the presence of those we love.

So when incidents happen that challenge or interrupt that serenity, we do things to reject the fear that gives us that warning. When we see shooting victims or extreme-weather survivors becoming completely unglued on television, well … that’s why. They never saw the event coming. They never planned on being part of the news. They were just rolling along in their routine, keeping the faith, and suddenly they are holding a bullet-ridden loved one in their arms or clinging to the chimney of their rooftop as a flood takes the rest of the neighborhood for a ride on the new white-water rapids.

Prepping Only Goes So Far
Now—I know some people think they can fully prepare for these events. People keep loaded guns under the bed to respond to possible intruders. People have a month’s worth of canned food and bottled water in a heavily fortified basement or bomb shelter to survive a surprise attack. They refuse to eat anything that is not organically grown for fear of pesticide/insecticide impact. I’m not saying any of them are wrong—I just wonder what the likelihood of their actions to prevent things that simply might occur without warning, really are. Every time I hear of a child who has been accidentally shot, I wonder how necessary that loaded gun actually was. Yes, that weapon, stored properly and in the right hands, could surely save lives, but how often have we read about guns winding up in the wrong hands and someone getting hurt? And regarding the folks who hoard food and water for their families, if there really was a place where they could hunker down and be safe for a month, how would they handle the banging at the door of other families and friends who didn’t prepare but were begging for refuge? Where would they draw the line?

The Titanic’s iceberg is always out there, folks, mostly hidden beneath the stormy, icy waters but nevertheless waiting. Maybe  we’ll careen around the icebergs and dodge them all. Maybe we’ll just scrape one and get nicked.  But just as with the serene waters of our life routines, we can only mitigate the surprises to a certain degree.  Certainly we can improve our odds a great deal by being prepared, but never will we be able to dodge everything that can happen or be able to understand why some things didn’t happen. Some call it the “luck of the draw.” Some say, “By the grace of God.”

Either way, it sure reminds us to be grateful for every day, doesn’t it? We should at least stop lamenting the days we describe as boring. Boring is also safe, right? Especially because who knows what might come the day after what we thought was the worst day we ever experienced?

Who knows? Well, I mean … who else knows?

And for those wondering—my son took a doctor-mandated week off and went right back in to play. Sigh.

Ron Ciancutti has worked in the parks and recreation industry since he was 16 years old, covering everything from maintenance, operations, engineering, surveying, park management, design, planning, recreation, and finance. He holds a B.S. in Business from Bowling Green State University and an M.B.A. from Baldwin Wallace University. He has held his current position as Director of Procurement since 1990. He is not on Facebook, but he can be reached at ron@northstarpubs.com.