The Hit List - The Best Advice I Ever Got

It’s been four years since my father passed away, and as one often does during these solemn anniversaries, I found myself reminiscing about him.

He was not an easy man to live with, but I loved him nonetheless. (I always like to say that we loved each other in our own, twisted way.) The core problem of our relationship was that my father was from a very different generation and he simply didn’t get me.

He turned 50 shortly after I was born, which made our age gap seem more like the Grand Canyon. (I am turning 50 next year and both my children are grown adults – I cannot imagine having a baby at this stage in my life!)

Growing up during the Great Depression left an obvious mark on him. Dad was a tough old German with a strong work ethic (which rubbed off on all of his children) and strong dislike of waste (including wasting time). I am my father’s daughter and tend towards workaholism and frugality just like him.

He also did not have a lot of patience for my sensitive nature. I was often referred to as a “crybaby” because I would burst into tears easily. That didn’t wash in his world. You had to “toughen up” because “it’s a hard world out there”.

“Don’t be a bungbutz.” That was his catchphrase.

My sister remembers that phrase as “bumbutz” but I heard it differently (mind you, I have hearing issues that started in childhood so she may actually be right.). I have never been able to find a translation for that word nor have I ever heard anyone else ever use it. So I have no idea what it actually means or where the heck he got that from.

It doesn’t matter what the word is, the energy behind that statement was clear: suck it up. Don’t wuss out. Get in there and do it, even if it scares you. Stop being a baby.

That is some harsh ass stuff for a little girl to swallow.

When he would utter that statement, “don’t be a bungbutz”, I knew I wasn’t going to get any sympathy nor would I get out of something. I had to buck up and handle my shit.

It was the best damn advice I ever got.

While some might view that kind of child rearing as a bit cold, I learned to appreciate it as I got older. It forced me to become very resourceful, and, most importantly, it helped to thicken my oh-so-tender skin. I’m still extremely sensitive but I have a good, firm shell to protect my soft inner core.

When people throw me shade, no biggie. I’m not a bungbutz. I can ignore that crap. Things get dicey at work? No problemo – I handle it and move on. No bungbutz here. A man gets in my face or tries to dominate me – I walk away and don’t even look back. Nope, you won’t see me getting all bungbutz over some dude. Something high tech look intimidating? I’m going to suck it up and figure it out. I’m not a bungbutz. No sirree.

His simple and odd advice runs in the back of my head anytime I find myself feeling sorry for myself, scared to try something new, or hurt over petty crap.

I now know that Dad wasn’t trying to ridicule me when he used those words. He was, in his own way, trying to tell me that he knew that I was capable, intelligent, strong, and resourceful beyond measure. He saw the potential and didn’t let me slide. (PS I was actually a very lazy kid and preferred to be laying around reading books rather than doing any “real” work.)

As I got older, he always remarked how proud he was of how “goddamn clever” and “tough” I was. But I know this: that would have never happened if he didn’t egg me on.

So here’s to tough love parenting and bungbutz-free living.

Thanks, Dad.

Prayers blowing in the wind.

Other stuff:

I woke up in the middle of the night, wondering how bowling balls were made (yes, my brain works in odd ways). This is the story behind how they are created.

The ‘Paid What You’re Worth’ Myth by Robert Reich. Very good reading. Eye opening.

I adore these photos of children and cats from Alain LaBoile. So innocent and beautiful!

9 Facebook Changes Social Media Marketers need to know from Courtney Seiter. If you have a Facebook page, read up.

Overlooked New York by artist Zina Saunders. Portraits and stories of New Yorkers you may pass by every day. Love the bike messenger part. (I used to work for a bike messenger firm back in the day.)

Wisdom about forgiving from Debra Smouse: How to be Happy – How to Forgive Someone and Move On. Forgiveness ain’t easy, yo.

I want to invite Rick Ross over for dinner. I’d feed him real good.

I LOVE androgyny and model Casey Legler is awesome! She works as a male model.

This Bill Cunningham exhibit looks fab. Would love to check that out!

And people keep on enrolling. I guess it’s working despite all the haterade thrown at it.

What You Learn In Your 40’s by Pamela Druckerman is a must read. I love this line: “In fact “soul mate” isn’t a pre-existing condition. It’s an earned title. They’re made over time.” YES.

Rejoice, hipsters: monocles are in! And how the heck to they stay in? I would worry about the wrinkle inducing thang, but then again, I’m too old to be hip so there ya go.

That Popeye look…..ain’t good on anyone. And it might be dangerous to INJECT oil and alcohol into your arms. EWWWWW…..

Story I’ve been watching closely for a while now: celebrity fashion photographer Terry Richardson is facing some seriously icky allegations. Dude, if this stuff is true, get help. Abusing your position of power – not cool.

What I’m Grateful For:

Thick skin and the ability to roll with the punches

Favorite clients in the office this week

Melting snow

Fresh flowers

Huge opportunities

Life

Soundtrack for 3/15/14: “Tough Luck” by The Eagulls – Dad hated my music but this sums up his attitude perfectly.