Pooh underwear and striped socks, FTW.

I don’t know about you, but I’m usually deep in thought, unaware of my surroundings as I change into my workout clothes for a trip to the gym. I’m either reflecting on the day that just ended or thinking about what lies ahead for the next day. I’m pondering this or that meeting or email, not really paying much attention to my choice of underwear that morning and how it coordinates with the rest of my attire. After all, it’s underwear, right? Nobody is going to see it unless you’re a plumber (I’m not) or a male stripper (NOPE!) or my dad (inside joke).

It turns out not paying attention to my wardrobe choices can lead to some interesting moments in the locker room. Last week, a group of guys walked in while I was midway through changing and ended up seeing me with only my underwear and socks on. I know what you’re thinking, “no big deal, just flex and they’ll walk away.” And that may work for you, but it’s kind of difficult to have a masculine impact when you are only wearing red & gray striped socks and Winnie the Pooh boxers (including the word “Pooh” repeated around the waistband). I hope those guys understood the rare moment I provided for them. I hope they will never forget the day they saw a grown man in the locker room wearing only striped socks and Pooh boxers. That would make the whole wardrobe combination…still not worth it.

Recently, I did a dumb thing. Without getting into specifics, let’s just assume that the thing I did was sufficiently dumb to warrant self-reflection, more than one apology, and a blog post.

So how do you recover from doing a dumb thing? I don’t know for sure, but here’s where I started.

Accept that you did a dumb thing

If you did something dumb, you need to own up to it. It can’t be overstated: you save yourself a lot of trouble when you are honest about doing something dumb. Everyone does dumb things from time to time. The time it takes you to recover from doing a dumb thing is directly correlated to how willing you are to accept and admit that you did a dumb thing.

Accept that your reasoning might have been flawed

Chances are, while you were doing the dumb thing, you had a rational reason for why you were doing it. Now that you are out of that moment, you should probably go somewhere private and think about whether or not that reason is still rational. What sounded perfectly normal in the moment probably seems dumb now. Try explaining your reasoning to a friend or say it out loud to yourself. Or, say it to your cat (don’t let anyone see you saying it to your cat, because that is dumb too).

Understand the dumb thing before trying to fix it

Never set about fixing a dumb thing before you understand what you did. Some dumb things don’t reveal themselves as dumb things until time passes (or someone walks up and tells you). You may have done a dumb thing that hurt someone’s feelings, changed or harmed a friendship, or made daily interactions with others difficult. Doing a dumb thing can carry more weight than you know. Be sure you understand the magnitude of what you did before you try to mend it.

Accept the outcome of doing dumb things

If the dumb thing you did hurt someone, be ready to accept that things may never be the same between you and that person. Don’t try to fix a dumb thing by doing more dumb things. This just compounds the situation. It’s important to accept that doing dumb things comes with consequences that you have no control over.

Above all else, accept that you did a dumb thing with grace and humility. Those affected by the dumb thing you did may not forgive you. A friendship may have been harmed or lost, or a relationship altered. Or both. Some dumb things are forgiven with time, but not all dumb things are forgotten. Accept this and learn from the dumb thing you did. Make sure that you’ve made amends and apologized to those affected…if you can. Some dumb things may be difficult or impossible to talk about openly and that may make it harder to recover from. Just try to move forward with grace and humility and hopefully things will work out.

In the spirit of that transparency, I’m going to tell you about the difficult news I got a couple of weeks ago with the hope that sharing helps me move on and move forward. I’ve come to believe in the power of sharing my life with everyone. There’s nothing I’m going through that someone, somewhere isn’t also suffering. Open suffering == open healing.

After 3 tests on my blood and 2 tests on…cough…other bodily fluid, on August 6th, I learned that I am sterile. I will never father a child. That reality is the most difficult thing I’ve ever written on this blog and it weighs incredibly on my heart, my soul and my being. My body does not produce sperm. This is my new reality. Welcome to it.

My condition is called non-obstructive azoospermia, which means I have no sperm because my body does not produce it rather than because of an obstruction in my reproductive tract (sperm is produced, but can’t get out of the testes).

When I first found out, I was crushed. Had I learned this 10 years ago, before I ever thought about marriage, let alone having children, I would have had 10 years to consider the implications. As it is, Kalin and I have been trying for the last year and each of us was starting to wonder if we were “broken.” At the moment when we wanted it most, we have been told, we likely never had a chance. And that, in a nutshell, is the most humbling event of my life. I have always taken immense pride in my health and at this point, my health has–for lack of a better phrase–given me a swift kick in the balls.

After letting the news soak in a bit, my very first thought was, “There must be some miracle of modern science that will allow me to overcome sterility.” We live in a world dominated by male-centric medical cures for seemingly unimportant maladies, of course someone one must have figured out a way for sterile men to father children?

As it turns out, there is. Using a combination of testicular biopsy (yes, boys, you read that right), petri dish sperm culturing, hormone therapy (on Kalin) and in-vitro fertilization, there is a 30-40% chance we could have a baby that is related by DNA to me. It took me about an hour to consider and dismiss that approach. Why? because that is a tremendous emotional burden just to save my ego and my pride. Kalin and I would go through an elaborate process of modern medical experimentation–with only a 30-40% success rate–simply because I couldn’t bear the thought of my children not being blood-related to me. I applaud the researchers who can make this happen, but this is not how I envisioned being a father. Being a real “man” means sometimes you have to say no to your ego, and not let your pride make your life decisions for you. I can still be a father and intend to do so. My son or daughter will not share my biological DNA, but there is more to share in life than our biological threads.

At the moment, Kalin and I have a lot to consider. Thankfully, there are several options for us to have children. Faced with the prospect of not having children at all would be many times worse than facing this hurdle. I’m infinitely grateful to have a warm and supportive family around me. That makes the more difficult moments easier to bear. With this news out in the open, I’m hoping I can move beyond it.

Addendum.

This post has taken longer to write than any other post I’ve ever written. I’ve deleted and rewritten large parts of it. And I’ve stripped a considerable amount of “garnish” from the text. The truth is, I really don’t know if posting this is wise. But I have a gut feeling that getting it off my chest might help me get over it. Additionally, if someone else happens to be in my situation and comes across this, maybe it helps them feel better knowing they aren’t alone (I felt better after reading the blog post linked above).

I know this: this situation has helped me to understand that I am fundamentally a different person today than I was just a few years ago. I know this because I can’t stand to be morose about this news. Yes, it makes me sad. And I know someday, when we do have children, I’ll have to deal with the occasional upwelling of doubts that will come from knowing that I am not the biological father of my kid(s). But the reality is, this is reality. I can’t change it, so damn it, I’m going to find a way to laugh about it. Surprisingly, that didn’t take long after I heard the news.

One of my first thoughts was this: when I was 19, a disgruntled ex-girlfriend insisted I had gotten her pregnant. Now I know she was lying. Then I thought: all those years wearing a “protective” cup, wasted. Those things are NOT comfy. Last thought: I NEVER have to wear another damn condom as long as I live.

R.

The gym at UCSC has a nice balcony to workout on. As I sat there contemplating my lost afternoon over sit-ups and crunches, I met a UCSC staff member from the campus Public Information Office. We talked about U.S. politics and the amazing view of The Monterey Bay from the balcony. When I talked about my job, he mentioned that his office had been without a web developer for a couple of years and would be seeking someone to fill the position. They hadn’t ironed out the details yet, but the announcement would go up on the UCSC jobs page soon.

I kept an eye out for the job announcement, but didn’t see anything after several weeks. By chance, I saw the staff member again a few weeks later, and introduced him to Kalin. He told me his office was close to posting the job announcement at that point.

Fall came. The owner of the house we were renting foreclosed (though she called it “selling the house”), we were looking for a new place to live, and work got crazy. In early November, Kalin happened to be at the gym one evening when the same staff member sought her out to tell her that the job had been posted for several weeks and the first review period was to start the following Monday.

Short. Notice. I hadn’t been checking the UCSC jobs site and nearly missed an opportunity to apply for the position.

One hectic weekend later, I had produced a fresh version of my resumé, a supplemental document highlighting some of my specific experience and a cover letter to “tie the room together”. I submitted my application materials for the position 3 minutes before the system would have locked me out. Score!

Four months and 2 interviews later, I have officially been offered–and accepted(!!)–the position of Senior Web Developer in the Public Information Office at UCSC. I’m very excited about the new opportunities ahead. Of course, I will miss my Quiddities family. But after nearly 2 years together, there cannot be goodbye, only see you later. Santa Cruz is too small, and I love them too much to vanish from the Quiddities landscape.

So, why did I include all of that back story just so I could tell you I’ll soon be starting an exciting new job (you had to read, like, 3 paragraphs or something!)? Because I wanted to show you what it felt like to walk the jagged path to this point. I’m not a religious person, and–despite living in Santa Cruz–I don’t own any fortune-telling crystals. It may sound hypocritical, but I also don’t believe in fate. Life is a series of opportunities. Some you take, some you don’t. How you get to those opportunities often makes your choice easier when you get there. A series of chance encounters at the gym brought me squarely to this point. And I’m excited to jump into this new job.

HUH?

I’ve been going to this gym for the last 3 and a half years. Not once in that time have I ever retrieved my gym card without identifying myself by last name. But tonight, I was “a regular.”

It got me thinking about how nice it is to be a known regular at the gym. I’m there enough for them to remember me and my last name (3 years of memorization tests not with standing). Then I started thinking about places where I’m glad I’m not a regular. Obvious answers include the pub, the dentist’s office (though they cheat and read it from your chart before you walk in and pretend to remember), and Blockbuster Video.

Other places I’m glad I’m not a regular:

• Walmart
• Any public restroom (“Pooping again, huh Mr. Knight?”)
• Adult bookstore
• Any MySpace Group
• Arby’s
• The Golf Channel

That’s about it. I’d welcome regular status anywhere else. Did I miss anywhere?

Tonight I looked a bit more into Google’s Webmaster Tools and discovered a tool to tell me what search queries returned a page from this site in the results. Not surprising, when you type “robknight” into Google and hit “I’m Feeling Lucky” you land here. I like to think I “pwned” my name without spaces. All other robknights bow to me in cyberspace.

However, it can be quite interesting how others find your site. For instance, did you know you might get here if you did a Google search for what will our children look like? That would be because of this post, which you will also see if you search brow neanderthal slashdot You may also end up here if you searched for chase laguna beach because of my post on how I was compared to an ultra-mega-hottie from the fauxreality MTV show. And in a sad, disappointing moment for my poor site, it turns out that only those searching for Laguna Beach’s Chase actually showed up here.

Oh, but it gets so much better. You may find me if you search millertool because I once designated Dennis Miller “Tool of the Month.” Perhaps you were wondering about a career in cursing? So you headed to Google and I showed up.

However, the prize for the best search query that turns me up is tang orange powder process. Holy shit. I can’t think of a better way to have people find my site than a post about cleaning out your dishwasher with Tang.

You can see the rest of the list here.