My boy John Benjamin

This is my son, and his best girl. This is a rare photo, because like his mother he doesn't like to have his picture taken. I caught him readying Sassy for a walk at our condo garage in Missouri, and he didn't make the usual face or impolite hand gesture.

What can I say about J.B.? For one, he is resilient and loyal to his friends and family. I am very proud of him, because he never quits. Sometimes he starts things I'd prefer he not even attempt, but even when he suffers the occasional setback on life's highway, he's become adept at making lemonade when life hands him lemons.

When he was very young, he wanted so much to be like his daddy. I recall coming back from a business meeting in Arizona, to be met by my son and my wife at the airport in Des Moines. I had, for reasons still unknown, purchased a Stetson hat and western boots, and wore them home. He saw me coming off the plane and said "silly daddy, wearing a cowboy hat". He nailed me with that one, and probably understands my flaws more than anybody else, but still listens when I try to offer advice.........and eventually I find myself reaching him. As a small child, he even wanted to dress like me, and had his own khaki slacks and blue button down shirts.

In grade school he tried soccer, but didn't seem to enjoy team sports - or maybe I just didn't enjoy devoting enough time to him. If there was any failing as a parent, it was certainly mine as my career was coming well before my family in those days. The only activity we shared was perhaps scouting, and I'm proud to say he achieved Eagle Scout rank (perhaps only 2-3% of those who start the program in Cub Scouting make it all the way to the top in Boy Scouts). Along the way, he won his cub scout pack grand champion in the Pinewood Derby - with a car that was ugly fast. But HE made the car, not his father like so many of his fellow scouts.

He also is very protective of his sister, six years his junior. When grade school boys were giving her a hard time at the bus stop, he pointed out to them in no uncertain terms that "mess with her, you get me". Of course, he probably need not to have worried - she dispatched the biggest bully with a kick where it hurt. But he always had her back, and today they still watch out for each other.

When he was in high school, he worked at Chuck E. Cheese, a pizza place where children had a large game zone, and an animated band with various animals including a gorilla playing the drums. The band also featured Mr. Cheese, a large rat - Disney apparently thought it far enough removed from Mickey Mouse as not to sue for copy right infringement. When the curtain closed, an employee would don the "rat suit" and step out from behind the curtain to thrill the young customers. This suit had a world class collection of high school DNA, smelled like a wet rat, and had limited visibility. Workers at this restaurant lasted maybe six months, especially if they had rat suit duty often. Our boy lasted two full years - a record in his peer group. He is not a quitter.

After getting his high school letter in Bowling (clearly not one to try conventional sports), and appearing in several dramatic productions where he demonstrated a unique dance style in Oklahoma, he graduated. I suspect like his father did 25 years earlier, he made the top half of the class possible, yet made the cut to attend Southeast Missouri State University. Graduating in but five years (with time out to collect an Associate Degree at the St. Louis Community College), he went to work in the hospitality/food service business. We suspect he might have gone through college a bit quicker, but the Sigma Chi Fraternity helped slow progress, although I'm sure it helped hone his skill set as a bartender at Outback Steakhouse during college and in later jobs. He still did the same as his dad - I took five years as well, and seem to have done OK in the end. Not sure which of us has the better GPA, but nobody seems concerned anymore.

Ultimately, he decided a job with benefits made more sense that being one of the best waiter/bartenders in West St. Louis County, and he entered his father's career field. When that business ultimately went down the tubes (thank you, Congress and the bond market), he moved to Indianapolis where my mother and brother reside. His ability to stand two years in a perspiration soaked rat suit prepared him for living in my mother's house while he sought full time employ. The ability to wait tables and tend bar never failed him, and Outback Steakhouse was once again a way station. Working there, he learned of a full time opportunity, and went for it. Currently he's reaching his second full year of working with developmentally disabled adults, showing far more patience and compassion than I ever could summon. His mother and I are very proud of him, to take on a job few would consider, helping those who cannot always help themselves. For that, he's already earned his way past the pearly gates. His mother and I are very proud of John Benjamin, our first born and only son. May he live long, and prosper.