GUITAR DAD

 
 
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My silver 2003 Toyota Highlander is closing in on 60,000 miles, and from all indications should easily make it another 60,000 and beyond. At least that's my plan.
 
I've never been much of a car enthusiast. Just give me a reliable, well-built vehicle and I'm good to go. It's true that I admire all the flashy BMWs and Mercedes-Benzes and Audis sitting so regally in the parking lot of my office building. But what I really want is an understated, modestly priced set of wheels. And that's exactly what I drive. I'd rather spend my money on music, books, travel, food – oh, and my kids.
 
If my Highlander starts acting up with some major mechanical issue, I suppose I'll need to look into a new car. Otherwise, count on me to drive my Toyota into the ground. I intend to squeeze every last drop of life out of that puppy.
 
 

I realize there are plenty of skilled writers on this planet, scribes whose words flow brilliantly and with great meaning and sometimes astonishing force. But in the corporate world, this talent is not terribly abundant, which creates a fabulous opportunity for people like me.

As a communications manager with a well-known hotel brand, my days involve a wide spectrum of tasks and projects, meetings and strategic plans. A great deal of my time, though, is spent writing, stringing words together in just the right way to explain a process, solve a problem, persuade, or otherwise inform and inspire.

Like any other job, corporate writing can occasionally be a drag, with its organizational complexities and political contours to navigate before arriving at a piece of compelling, and approved, text. But most of the time I absolutely love my work. It suits me, and I'm deeply grateful to make a good living at it.

An interviewer once asked novelist Aldous Huxley if the writing process was pleasant or painful for him. "Oh, it's not painful, though it is hard work. Writing is a very absorbing occupation and sometimes exhausting. But I've always considered myself very lucky to be able to make a living doing something I enjoy doing. So few people can."

Yes, so few people can. It's a fact not lost on Guitar Dad.

 
 
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During a recent three-night trip to my native North Carolina, it was a great pleasure to spend quality time with my folks. Being in the same room with loved ones, eye to eye, sure beats talking on the phone or emailing.
 
We laughed a lot, shared family updates, retold old stories and broke bread. Lots of bread. In fact, among the most satisfying aspects of my visit were the culinary delights prepared so exquisitely by my mother.
 
Cheesy lasagna. Tangy beef stroganoff. Mouthwatering waffles. Delicious cheesecake. Even my mom's iced tea – which I know damn well comes from plain ol' Lipton tea bags – tastes immensely better than any other tea I've had.
 
Before my trip, my wife politely stated, "I wonder how many pounds you'll put on while you're gone." Very intuitive query, my dear.
 
In the end, I'd characterize my weight gain as minimal, perhaps completely unnoticeable. Maybe just a pound or two. Or three. All I know is I won't be cutting back on my exercise regimen anytime soon.