Category Archives: Life lessons

One in Each Eye

If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

—Wayne Dyer


Today’s story is from Brian Hague about his dad, Greg Hague.

Winter of ’92. I was 14. Denver bound. A father-son ski trip. Dad had a conference for his company there, too. I would finally get to see him “perform” for a big audience.

dad

Dad and me before our spaghetti dinner, 1992

The first day was incredibly fun! Bombing the slopes, racing to the bottom on every run. A battle against each other. Against ourselves. Against the mountain. We capped the day with an incredible spaghetti dinner.

The next morning — the conference was HUGE! Five hundred people looked like five thousand! I was terrified. What if he choked? Froze up?

I sat in the back corner, holding my breath as Dad took the stage. What happened next remains one of my most vivid memories, and a valuable lesson on life. No outlines. No cue cards. No charts or graphs. He spoke to that crowd like he was speaking to us at the dinner table. Totally relaxed. Poised and assertive. Funny and engaging. READ MORE 

Life Lessons From Remarkable Dads

“Don’t look back — you’re not going that way.”

—Chubby


Today’s post is a collection of life lessons.

My dad said lots in very few words. In one sentence he often said all. These nuggets of savvy I call “Chubby Rules,” named for my dad.

I’ve shared Chubby Rules with my sons for 25 years. Some were from Dad. Others I’ve gathered along the way. At Savvy Dad, we write stories about remarkable dads. What they do. What they say. How they impact their kids.

Today we do something unique. It’s a collection of lessons from an array of great dads. It’s a gold mine of savvy in very few words — modeled after Chubby Rules from my very own dad. Here’s an original Chubby Rule:

“Learn something about everything, everything about something.”

life lessons READ MORE 

Jilted in Prague

Jilted in Prague


Today’s story is from Courtney C.

Savvy Dad, you write often about sons. I am a daughter.

Sons can be jerks. Let’s call this jerk “Brad”.
He was not my first love. He was my first jerk.
Savvy Dad I am a daughter

Courtney and Dad, John in Rich Valley,VA long ago.

I was 23. Brad did a number on me.

Teaching English In Prague, I was living far from home. I’d just been jilted. I felt like I’d been kicked to the curb. Now, sitting at the top of a staircase, I was spying on Brad. What I observed I expected. It was not what I had hoped.

My dad had just flown in for a visit. He didn’t know. The moment I saw him, I crumbled, “Brad stole my heart, Dad. He siphoned my money, took all that I had. We dated a few months. He said he was temporarily short. I started picking up tabs. He said he lost his job. I opened my home.   READ MORE 

Role Reversal with Dad

Role Reversal with Dad . . .

Dying is not pretty, but can happen in a beautiful way.
That’s how Mike Goforth remembers his Dad, H.T.


Today’s story is from Mike Goforth.

That final year—diapers, long nights, treatments and all. We listened in awe. Sit down. Grab onto your heart.

A role reversal

Son and father, Mike and H.T. Goforth

“Dad was a proud figure as we grew up. A Navy man, he believed in honor, trust and hard work. He knew the meaning of tough. Dad was a disciplinarian to my brother and me. He was 100% fair, but our line was clear-cut. Step over the mark and we’d better watch out.

As I grew up, my father taught me much about life. Be strong. Stay true. When in doubt, just do what is right.

READ MORE 

Dad Wasn’t Budging

Whap! Two burly, rough men threw it down on the floor.
Woosh! With a flick of their arms it swooshed by our toes.
“You like?”
“No thank you!” Dad firmly said, time and again.

Today’s story is from Elizabeth Parsons.

Elizabeth Parsons

A stunning Elizabeth Parsons with William (nickname “X”), her good looking dad.

My name is Elizabeth. It happened 17 years ago. It’s a story now easy to tell. At the time, not easy to live.

Have you ever felt terrorized, out of control? The freedom you presume, lost and subsumed?

My father and I sat close, feeling alone. We were confronted by men with weapons of rugs.

Of course, I know rugs are not guns. You were not there.   READ MORE 

Dads Are Coaches for Life

Dads Are Coaches for Life . . .

College game day.
The stadium exploded, a deafening roar.


Today’s story is from Ben Thompson. His father is Rick.

Virginia Tech had just beaten No. 1 ranked Duke, 64-60. The game was hard fought, a squeaker throughout. Victorious, Ben looked into the crowd. His eyes focused only on one.

Dad's a coach for life

Father and son, Rick and Ben Thompson

When Ben was Young Rick worked with his son from the moment he could dribble a ball. This father knew his stuff. He was a revered high school basketball coach. His team won the state championship in 1991.

Under Rick’s charge, Ben blossomed into a star.

He was the captain of the team his dad brilliantly coached.

A grown-up Ben was now coaching at Florida’s Saint Leo University, a small NCAA Division II team. Then came the day he received a momentous call, from Virginia Tech, his alma mater. A dream job was offered to this very young man. Would he coach at Virginia Tech? The catch, “We need to know now.”   READ MORE 

Teach Your Kids to Resist the Urge

Teach Your Kids to Resist the Urge . . .

Why is Facebook worth billions and you’re not?


Today’s post is based on a study by Harvard psychologists Diana I. Tamir and Jason P. Mitchell.

A study by two Harvard psychologists uncovered a proven way to make a bundle, raise smart kids and have great friends.

Greg Hague

My dog Tanner listens!

People like to express opinions. They like to talk about themselves. You already know that. Why? Because you want to, too. What you probably don’t know is the strength of the urge. It’s biological. We’re wired that way.

A part of your neurology (the mesolimbic dopamine system) gives you a feeling of pleasure when you eat good food, make lots of money, or see a good looking member of the opposite sex.

Talking about “you” stimulates your brain in the same way. It’s a dopamine-like reaction. You feel great, as with sex or chocolate.

READ MORE