Loss and Change Came To Many

Dean Harris...Part 2
Dean's 1972-73, Edwardsville high school senior season ended with a solid 20-7 won-loss mark. As is the case with many athletic seasons, some would say it was a good year while others might contend some 'parts' were missing or perhaps the team underachieved or the coach did not do a good job. I never debate season outcomes with 'drugstore cowboys;' one day I shall tell you why! Dean was recruited by several Division I universities but it seemed a slam dunk that Dean 'The Dream' Harris was destine for Jack Hartman's K-State 'Wildcats.'

Dean made an immediate impact as a freshman starter on Kansas State basketball team. The 'Wildcats' were 19-9 and second in the Big 8 Conference. Dean's rebounding and defensive abilities were strong attributes. It was the opinion of many college and professional coaches that Dean Harris would be a high NBA draft pick once he gained a little more weight and strength.

 The spring of 1974, found me doing what I had done for five previous springs, I was umpiring college and high school baseball games. I did the umpiring gig for three reasons: (1) our family needed extra money, (2) as a former baseball pitcher, I always loved baseball  and (3) I believed that I was a good umpire. That spring had Dean returning to Edwardsville after his freshman year at K-State. 'Tree' Harris was still teaching in East St. Louis and his assignment placed him at Lansdowne Junior High School; East St. Louis schools were 'in session' a few weeks from the summer vacation. Proud papa 'Tree' was awaiting his son, Dean to join him for lunch; Dean would never make the father-son luncheon. That May day had some severe thunderstorms with periods of blinding-down-pouring rain. My telephone rang and the voice on the other end belonged to Greg Ahart.  Greg and Dean had been teammates and enjoyed their friendship. Greg spoke, "Coach, I just passed Dean's car on Route 157 and it has been in a bad accident." Not wanting to believe, I asked, "Greg, are your sure it's Dean's car?" Greg's voice trembled a bit saying, "Coach it's Dean's car; it has that little tag on the back...you know the one that says, Dean The Dream."  I suddenly felt sick inside and numb of thought. I telephoned the Harris home and the accident was confirmed with injury reports causing me great concern and personal anxiety.

Dean was taken to Firmin Desloge Hospital in St. Louis; notorious for attending to the worst accident victims. I went to the St. Louis Hospital that early evening and visited with 'Tree' and Hazel just briefly. They were engulfed by family love ones and constant attempts to learn more details of their son's condition. I left the visitors' waiting room and wondered about the lower-level bowels of Firmin Desloge; it was well after the business hours. A lone man dressed in surgical garb was reading a bulletin board. He turned and spoke to me asking, "Are you here for the basketball player?" The question took me by surprise but I quickly answered "Yes, I was Dean's high school coach." He then offered the following: "I just did surgery on his broken leg." I asked, "How did the surgery go?" With a undeniable sadness and looking directly into my eyes, the surgeon spoke these words, "Coach, your boy has greater battles facing him than broken bones." I went back to tell the Harris family that I was going home and I would be in touch; I hugged both 'Tree' and Hazel before leaving; the look on younger brother, Hank's face pierced my mind forever.

The next day, I was umpiring at the SIUE complex.  During the game, Steve Porter, Alton Telegraph sports' writer called me to the side.  He told me that he just received word that Dean had died. I was not surprised but I was shocked; shocked to the extent I wanted to run away, I wanted to scream aloud; I wanted to sit in the grass and cry. The game over, I walked directly to my automobile nearby. Porter followed me with a request for...'some words about Dean.' I told him to give me a minute and he obliged. I sat down in my automobile and just cried for several minutes; I have never cried any harder. A terrible accident took two lives of two people. A son and brother from the Harris family and a sweet wife and mother from the Hartman family.
Part 3 Tomorrow...Goodbye to 'The Dream.'

A Bitter-Sweet Remembrance

I have thought of him frequently over these past thirty-nine years and in moments, I 'still' find it difficult not to imagine 'what might' have been. His six foot seven inch frame carried less than two hundred pounds in poetic gliding motions across a basketball court as he displayed perhaps the most complete all-around skills of any basketball player I ever coached. Dean Harris was not the best shooter or the best rebounder; he did not have the best passing skills and he may not have been the best defensive player from my 37-varsity high school teams; he was undoubtedly the best at all talents combined; a truly complete basketball player.

I was no stranger to the Harris family. Dean's father, Earl 'Tree' Harris was the long time East St. Louis 'Lincoln' high school basketball coach and I was his team's teenage foe from 1955-through-1957. I would be on the Regional championship court at Cahokia high school when Harris' 27-0 Lincoln team would lose to my East Side 'Flyers' proving how difficult it is to beat any team three times in a season.

In my second varsity coaching season at Mason City high school, I brought the 'Tree' Harris coached (predominately 'Black') Lincoln 'Tigers' to that all-White community for one of the most exciting basketball games I ever coached. Earl 'Tree' Harris' genuine friendliness and class served as a model and alongside a beautiful wife, Hazel they gave the world terrific children of the same ilk. Two of their boys would come into my life and remain as wonderful memories and heart tugging recall.

Dean's senior basketball season at Lincoln high school (East St. Louis) was not to be when father 'Tree' decided his talented son needed the exposure of a guaranteed schedule of competitive games in the prestigious Southwestern Conference. 'Tree' and Hazel moved Dean and his younger brother, Hank to Edwardsville where they would play for my 'Tigers.' The immediate and long-lasting impact of the Harris family was positive for that student body and the community. To a person the Harris family was sincere in friendliness and demonstrated a genuine living-style and politeness...they were easy to embrace; they were lovable people.

Dean made a great impact on our basketball team and school. On the court, he would rebound, score and defend anyone. One Friday night, Dean completely shut down the offense of a 5' 9"  high scoring SW Conference guard from Belleville West high school and the very next night he held a 6' 9" SW Conference leading-scorer (29 PPG) to a mere nine tallies. He could smother an offensive player. Perhaps just as eye capturing as his basketball aptitude was Dean's actions immediately after a home basketball contest. He would shake hands with opponents and then walk directly to the area where his mother Hazel was seated and climb several rows into the packed bleachers and lean-forward to kiss his mother's check. Dean demonstrated to those around him that he was gifted and could do marvelous things on a basketball court but more importantly he showed the world that his father had taught him well as Dean's actions stated loud and clear, 'my mother is my greatest gift.'

In retrospect, Dean gave me and my coaching staff a hilarious moment one basketball evening at an Edwardsville home game. The contest was perhaps 3-minutes into the first quarter when Dean took it upon himself and called a time out. The entire staff was stunned; players of mine did NOT call time outs...the Coach called time out!  When Dean and his mates approached the bench, I said, "What are you thinking, Dean?" Dean replied matter-of-fact, "Coach, I think I need to poop." Never before or never since did that scenario happen. I put a replacement in for Dean as he went to the locker room to find relief. Some 'time passed' and I sent one of my assistants to the locker room to find out what was taking Dean so long. The assistant returned with Dean on his heels. It seems as though Dean had gotten engrossed in a Sports' Illustrated magazine during the poo-poo moment.

Dean 'The Dream' part 2 comes Monday: The kid from East St. Louis packs the Edwardsville gym one final time.

What's a Fella To Do?

Let me cut directly to the 'chase,' it ain't always easy being grandparents. First, my wife and I are both extreme control freaks and I especially, tend to be the endless orchestrating manipulative ass. Gee, it feels refreshingly good to express myself so straightforward with succinct honesty.

I will not indict my wife's family, but will disclose about my family, I come from a long line of folks with a built-in (DNA) desire to 'tell' others how things ought to be. Let me explain this lineage. My wife and I had a terrific relationship with our parents after we married. We sometimes sought their opinions and many times we took the advice. On those occasions that we rejected the advice, we did so quietly without any fanfare or 'public announcement.' My parents would visit our home and my father would decide the living room furniture should be rearranged and by-hell, he'd rearrange it! Once in awhile, we liked his design and we would leave as he  moved.  Most often, we put our furniture back the way it was as soon as we viewed my father's automobile tail-lights go out of sight.

My mother-in law, on the other hand, was as subtle as a punch in the nose. Example: Shortly after we married, my wife's obgyn Doctor discovered a fibroid cyst in her breast. We had taken my mother-in law to the movies the evening that my wife told her mom about the pending surgery to remove the cyst. Mother-in law, Vi said, "Well, I heyda; say (I knew immediately that she could hardly wait to SAY the next sentence and most definitely it would be brutal), "Well, I heyday say but she didn't have that cyst before she was married!" How the hell does a son-in law respond to that comment? I had several clever and funny 'come backs' flash through my brain, but I stifled them all for the good of the order!

When it comes to my children and grandchildren, I am a worrying and a praying Boompa. (Boompa would be my grandparent handle).
Sometimes my kids seek advice and I then understand that which I should worry about. Other times, I know there are some issues but I am kept in the dark; I then have no clue why I'm worrying. My wife gives her advice and paints a rosy outcome...good girl is that Nana.

What I don't 'cotton' to is my kids asking advice and then arguing with me if I give the 'wrong' advice. What's that? Hells bells, if you don't like my suggestion don't take it...it's kinda like my father 'moving' the furniture. I must stop now. I just noticed a tailless squirrel running around in the backyard and the toy poodle, Yodie is right on his tailless ass. I don't want that pup to tangle with that damn thing!

A TranscendingTip

I usually send coaching tips to my son, Steve during the basketball season. I have prepared this 'tip' first and will send it soon as he prepares for the 2013-14 season. This coaching tip perhaps resonates with non-coaches therefore, I share it in today's blog posting.

"No mother ever gave birth to failure and rare is the father who challenges the mother"...and "If it's animal it will die; if it's mechanical it will break; everything else CHANGES." Parenting has changed and it impacts every occupation that deals with youngsters. I wish not to 'beat a dead horse' but accept this reality: many people perceive the World War II generation of folks as the greatest and yet today's parents shun that generations' parenting style as they reject any notion of firmness. Many of today's 'overprotective' parents shudder at any thought of a 'smack-on-the-butt' approach to curbing bad behavior. Instilling accountability and responsibility traits in today's children is trumped by a larger concern for the child's psyche and 'feelings.' Today's parents subscribe to the modern day gobbledygook parenting-style of 'don't bruise the child's ego/psyche!' To illustrate: My parents 'told' me to come in, put the toys away and take a bath and get ready for bed; never did they pose that expectation in the form of a question, i.e., 'don't you think it's time to get ready for bed?' Come on people, many things 'enter' our lives and we are expected, without a choice, to make adjustments, tolerate and persevere. The sooner the child 'learns' they must function and persist in spite of difficulties and following guidelines they have a leg-up understanding reality and thus are on a road to happiness and success.

The student-athlete who enters middle/high school is a product of overprotective-coddling. Their parents spent exorbitant amounts of money on their kid's clothing and entertainment while making available every possible activity and standing nearby bent on ensuring fair treatment. In many instances, parents covered that perceived 'entitlement' notion by being 'the team's coach.' The only way for the school 'coach' to maintain order and 'teach' sport in today's environment is to create peer-competition-practices that will send strong messages to these soft and tender-skin kids about skill level realities and comparative ranking.

The school mentor should have a mandatory pre-season parent-student/athlete meeting where every aspect of the programs expectations are clearly outlined. This means what coach expects of mommy/daddy and the kid as well as what those folks can expect from the coach and school. Questions are answered. Parents are told that they may telephone during the season with additional questions but those answers will only be forthcoming during a meeting with parents and student athlete at coach's office. One meeting per family per year...no exceptions!! Coaches should not feel above the process of explain what, how and why things are done. After 'one' private meeting, the athlete is eventually asked it he/she wishes to continue as a team member after 'hearing the conversation exchanges. That choice is accepted with the understanding that no more meetings shall happen.

Finally, I will alert my coaching son to the reality that it is about a 50/50 chance that your school administration is weak. You must always be prepared to look for another job. My Alma mater, Illinois State's motto is, 'Gladly would he learn and gladly teach.' I contend that 'gladly' and 'bullshit' mix like oil and water.

'You Sexy Thing'

 I am somewhat negative and hard on you social-media buffs however, I owe you a (shout out) thank you for a special telephone call that my wife and I received last evening. My son, Steve got into that face book 'friending-stuff ' recently and the end result was  good for old coach.

One special ball player I coached from a very special team was last night's surprise caller. It was Michael 'Hot Chocolate' Hammonds, a member of the 1975-76, Edwardsville 'Tigers' high school State (Sweet 16) basketball team. The team picture remains on my office wall these many years with other special mementos. That team's basketball players was unique in many ways. First and foremost, they truly enjoyed and liked one another. Secondly, they were collectively 'over achievers.' Thirdly, they had a tendency to 'push' the social behavior expectation envelop. The latter contributed to some of my grey-hairs. Lastly, they were coachable.

The squad members were Fred Barton, Hank Harris, Gary Reichmann, Jeff Hornberger, Michael Hammonds, Dennis Braundemeir, Brad Drda, Seth Rankin, Brad Gregor, Steve Tyler, Greg Barton and Mike Brady. My coaching staff included assistants, Steve Moss, Tom Pile and Ken Hickman. We had a 2-10 record in a very tough Southwestern Conference however, we were some kind of tournament team. The Tigers won their Christmas Holiday Tournament, the Jacksonville Mid-Year Tournament, the Regional and Sectional Tournaments before bowing out at the SIU-Carbondale Super-Sectional against Marion by two-points.

Every player on that 1976 Edwardsville State Team contributed to our success as we ended a 20-year Sweet Sixteen drought. Michael Hammonds also gave a signature song to our season. He was constantly singing the song, 'You Sexy Thing,' which has a line that says, "I believe in miracles, you sexy thing..." The song was sung by the group, 'Hot Chocolate;' now you know the origin of Michael's nickname-'handle.' Michael played some exhibition basketball with Marcus Haynes' Harlem Magicians for a brief period. Michael and the legendary, Haynes surprised me one night. I had contracted the Magicians to play an exhibition game in Jacksonville (circa 1990); Michael  had not played with the Magicians for some years  but flew in from Houston, Texas dressed and played with Marcus and the Magicians that particular night...I cherish the photo of the three of us taken court side that evening. The photo has hung in my office next to the Edwardsville high school '76  State Team for nearly twenty-five years.

Over my thirty-seven year coaching career, I was blessed with some outstanding players and I try not to get caught up in any individual comparisons; too many variables and too many role-playing circumstances.  I had three teams to make the Sweet 16 level State Tournament. All 37 of my teams combined for 546 victories and put their 'Coach' in the Illinois Basketball Coaches Hall-of-Fame...I thank each and every person.

In the future, I shall try to stifle my cynical attitude towards social-networking as I acknowledge and thank you for putting the 'old-fella' in the loop. I hold a special 'love' for all who joined me in every aspect of my coaching journey; you all remain a Blessing.

 I hope our '76  'Tigers' can get together this November; looking forward to the guys joining Hot Chocolate in a rendition of 'You Sexy Thing.'

'Please Remember'

My wife and I attended a great-nephew's wedding reception this weekend past. It is always wonderful to come together with extended family and friends at such gatherings. Too often in this senior-season of life, we find ourselves hugging relatives at wake-visitations and funerals. A visitor to our dinner table asked my wife and I about our children and grandchildren. At some point the question was offered to me. "Mel, the inquirer asked, if you had only one day remaining in your life what would you want to tell your grandchildren?" That is a great question and I took the address of the person posing the question and told him that I would send a copy of a letter, which I sent to my grandkids a couple of years back; I share that letter with you readers today:

Dear Grandkids:

My emotional investment in each of you causes me to wish for an endless journey observing the unfolding of each potential. I know this cannot be, therefore I wish for you all to remember the following:

Your life will note many technological and social changes. Nevertheless, the keys to happiness will remain constant throughout your lives. (Read on and perhaps re-read). At times you will feel insignificant and thus be tempted to believe that you cannot make a difference. Don't buy into that cynical attitude; you will best serve yourself and others by embracing a spirited attitude and conviction that the world needs everything you have to offer. Adopt the willingness to say, YES...I CAN!

Do not dare fall victim to the meaningless cavity that you have some 'handicap' or disadvantage. Keep your eyes on the goal to serve others; even the self-centered people that you are certain to meet during this journey; these people also need your love, compassion and often times your help. Give without compromising your spirit or personal principles.

Remember that life offers no guarantees. Ever thing you attempt carries the risk of rejection and/or failure. Learn from rejection but be NOT discouraged. Failure need not be a final circumstance; however, living with the 'fear of failure' will cause emotional paralysis and will render you ineffective. Each of you have talents. You must be persistence seeking and developing the courage to apply those talents where they are most needed.

Find out early in life who you are and that which is your purpose. If you fail to attain this mission you lead an empty and nonsensical life. The happiest people I have ever known are those people 'doing' (occupation) that they truly want to do while seeking to fulfill Gods request... "That which you do for the least of My people you do also for Me."

Never stop dreaming and always look to improve the human condition. You matter to others.

God speed; God bless

Finally, memorize these two personal notes:  (1) A sunset is best when shared. (2) Get a dog because it will 'think' you are the greatest and on that matter you need no second opinion.

A Humble Champ

Former heavyweight boxing champion, Ken Norton, Sr. died this week. Norton was born, raised and played high school sports in Jacksonville, Illinois. He graduated from JHS after a stellar high school athletic career where he excelled in football, basketball and track. During his senior track season, Norton entered and finished first in eight (8) track & field State Finals events, which prompted the Illinois High School Association to enact a rule limiting athletes to three (3) events in the State Track Meet; 'The Norton Rule.'

My twenty-one year Jacksonville high school coaching career began 14 years after Norton graduated but our paths met on two occasions. The year was 1984, and the JHS Hall-of-Fame inaugural induction ceremony was conducted at a local capacity-filled banquet room in that west-central Illinois community. Norton was amongst the 12- charter-member inductees. We visited briefly that night. I conducted a telephone interview with Norton earlier that day on my WLDS Sports' Spotlight Show. One of Norton's sons, Keith had remained in Jacksonville and was a starting guard on a very good 1984, Crimsons' varsity basketball team. Ken's other son, Ken Jr. was enrolled in Jacksonville high school briefly in the early 1980's before leaving for the West coast where his father lived.

The late, Al Rosenberger was a longtime JHS Track & Field coach. He not only coached Ken Norton, Sr. but Al and his wife remained close (visiting) friends with the Norton's. Rosenberger was Norton's mentor during his youth and that relationship was treasured throughout their adult lives. Al was athletic director at JHS in my early years at that school and he shared this story about Ken, which offers a glimpse of Norton's personality and quick wit as a teenager. In the first half of a JHS 'home' basketball contest, Norton had played poorly and had made some bad decisions on the floor. As the half ended Norton raced to the locker room ahead of what he thought would be a frustrated and mad head coach, John Chapman. Assistant Coach Rosenberger entered the locker room with Coach Chapman and both noticed Norton doing a 'headstand' against the wall. A puzzled and angry Coach Chapman said, "Norton, what the hell are you doing?" Norton's response, "Coach, I know I've made some dumb plays the first half so I'm trying to get more blood in my head so I can think better."

The next time I visited with Norton would be our last visit. Norton returned often to Jacksonville to visit his mother, Ruth and father, John; he cherished his parents as did the entire Jacksonville community; they were kind people with sweet and sincere dispositions.

Ken had nearly died in a fatal car crash in 1986. It was in the early 1990's when my home telephone rang and the soft-distinguishable voice of Ken Norton, Sr. was on the other end. He wanted to know if I could open the JHS Hall-of-Fame room so that he might see the Norton display he had placed on loan; namely his World Championship Boxing Belt. I met Ken at the facility and as he walked slowly towards me, I could see that the auto accident had taken a devastating toll on his once steel-chiseled athletic frame. His gate was slow and a bit uncertain and his words were delivered slowly. We shook hands as he thanked me in that deep-raspy but soft spoken voice. Norton always impressed me as the antithesis to the great and boastful Muhammad Ali.

We spoke at length that afternoon in The Bowl (gymnasium) that must have held a myriad of memories for this great world-renowned athlete. Norton told me a personal story that day, which he seemed to cherish. He said that when he awakened from his post-auto accident coma, he looked around the darkened hospital room to see his long time rival and dear friend...Ali who had spent the night's bedside vigil hoping and praying for a foe turned friend. Norton smiled recalling the story saying, "You understand, Coach, Ali is a kind and good man but he didn't want the press to know that he was there all night." I suppose we all hold (a bit) to our ego-protecting image.

Before Ken Norton Sr. departed from the JHS Bowl and Hall-of-Fame facility that day, he extended his hand and once again thanked me for accommodating his request. We locked eyes during that handshake and Norton said, "Next time I'm in Jacksonville we'll meet and chat again, Coach"

Thanks for the memories, Champ. I hope we can have that chat on the 'other side.'

Know Thyself

I have known for many years that I have 'slightly-above-average intelligence;' this comment should not be viewed as either complaint or boast...it is what it is and I am happy. Let me explain the 'happy part.' I am capable of pondering to the extent that I usually arrive at  reasonable understandings.

I understand one most significant aspect of my personal journey and life. I must stay engaged and busy. I have strong emotional feelings. I am sentimental about my past. I am a romantic about life (in general) and relationships specifically. These personal-profile snippets shared, I can assure you that I have a tendency to become melancholy if I have too much time to ponder; you all know about the 'blues.'

In my lifetime, I telephoned many love ones. In their retirement years, I would telephone my father and mother at least three times a week. After my father's death some 19 years ago, I began telephoning my mother every day; sometimes I'd telephone her twice a day just to hear her voice...especially her laugh. I would often telephone a couple of Aunts and Uncles along a brother brother. Of course, I stay 'in-touch' via the phone with my three children and some of the older grandchildren but I realize that these young folks have very hectic schedules and a busy slate to address; I withhold telephoning them as much as I would like.

Within the past three years the number of family deaths escalated as did the number of deaths of close friends and former basketball  players that I once coached.  I look around and notice 'chunks' of my life are gone. People who truly knew me and could recite historical facts about me are silenced; it leaves a longing if not hurting void in daily thoughts. I find myself 'reaching' for my telephone with intentions to 'call' mother, my Aunt Verla or Aunt Kate. I wish to telephone a friend to share a story or joke and that friend is gone.

I love my backyard swing but I find it can be the 'devil's tool' should I stay too long. Thank God for that 'slightly' above average intelligence that motivates me to get up off the swing and get busy. I must plan something and I need to look for avenues to serve others or I risk becoming lost in self-pity.

Laws of God and Man Finish Second to Prejudice

Timeline...July 4, 1776, Thirteen American colonies sign the Declaration of Independence which states, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among them are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." The next 87 years 'Black' people were held in servitude "White' slave owners didn't give a rat's ass about Black 's pursuit of happiness; so much for 'unalienable Rights!;

In 1863, President Lincoln signs the Emancipation Proclamation giving Black slaves freedom to pursue that life, liberty and happiness; unalienable Rights...finally. However, as the saying goes; "you shit your friends and I'll shit my friends but let's don't shit one another.' No Nation can legislate appreciation or love.

In 1920, one hundred forty-four years after the Declaration of Independence, which purported all those wonderful freedoms i.e., equality; American women were permitted the 'right' to vote. Today, we still uncover inequality in gender salary-pay.

In 1965, President Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act, which was to address the voting disenfranchising of American minorities. Those (specified) minorities have that voting right this year 2013, however there is a strong movement by one political faction to make that voting right difficult through voter identification cards and travel-distances to polls in many of the economically deprived regions. Many of our Nation's people come together to circumvent; they establish roadblocks to lessen the implementation of some laws, which are contrary to a philosophy or attitude. In this case 'it' is an attitude of prejudice fearing status loss.

September 16, 2013, the new Miss America 2014, was crowned. Her name is Nina Davulure. Miss Davulure is Indian-American, if you please. Of course, she is an American citizen. Within hours of her crowning achievement the American social-media twitters were flying. Thousands of tweets suggested that perhaps Nina Davulure was overstepping her 'unalienable rights.' How dare she claim the title, Miss America. As one tweet so eloquently stated, "How the fu#k does a foreigner win Miss America?" Here's another, "She's an Arab."  Many times, I notice today's tweets are an indictment of the American education system and the parenting impact!

Unfortunately, many Americans believe 'equality-rights' should only be bestowed upon those who 'look, worship and think as they.'
Many people really think that Jesus Christ has blue eyes and long flowing light-brown hair. This logic would refute the physical DNA traits of a Middle Easterner.

As suggested by many sociologist, 'people maintain their self-esteem,' in part, by identifying with groups and believing that their group is better than any other group.(ethnocentrism). It becomes necessary to put those 'other groups' down thus elevating their group's status and esteem. Therein lies one of the most significant forces of prejudice, which often times manifests into discrimination and racism.

With regards to time lines addressing the prejudice issues, Christian-Americans can research 'another' old document; The Holy Bible...
Acts 10:34-35--So Peter opened his mouth and said, "Truly I understand that God shows no partiality." This means 'White' folks and Americans are NOT HIS favorite people; no one 'race' is preferred by God over another Race. Matthew 7:1-- Jesus delivers the Sermon on the Mount..."Judge not that you be judged." A grandiose staple claimed by many religions but actually heeded by few believers.

It appears to be a reasonable conclusion that man will break his own laws and the laws of God and reject his fellow man as he attempts to keep his self-esteem group identity.

Best Cost Less

The legendary Negro League and later Major League Baseball pitcher, Satchel Paige once said, "I never look behind me 'cause somebody could be gainin' on me." I understood that comment. When I was a young boy, I remember adults saying something about 'keeping up with the Joneses." I had no idea what that meant for the longest time. Finally, I understood that the 'Joneses were a mythical family or any family that had more material stuff than our family.' Later, I connected that to 'coveting,' which is addressed in the Ten Commandments: "Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's house,. thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his maidservant, etc, etc..." Of course, God and Moses had no idea that someday we'd have designer clothing, BMWs and all those computer gadgets.

Seventy-four years into my journey and acknowledging my evaporating energies, I have no inclination to look at or covet any thing. I do frequently 'look behind me anticipating that everybody is 'gainin' on me;' I just wish to know, which side to yield so as not to be 'run-down.' Actually, it is impossible to covet any thing immediately to the 'N o r t h' of my house because there is a huge eighty-foot, ninety-six thousand dollar boat in my neighbor's driveway blocking my view.

When it comes to coveting other things, I married well; my wife has always been one to get by / make do with what she has. I appreciate her attitude regarding 'material stuff.' Oh, once in awhile she mentions  (with a slightly envious tone) that one of her neighbor friends just got some thing new. I am quick to remind my wife that those neighbors will soon have a 'garage sale'  and she will likely 'make-good-deal' on those secondhand things.

As for this old man, I do admit coveting simple pleasures of life. This afternoon after my grass cutting chores, I'll head for the backyard swing with a 'cold' bottle of Pepsi and a bag of Planter's peanuts. Let me tell you a secret; pour the peanuts into the bottle of Pepsi...it's the best way to eat-drink-swing and enjoy! If you're near Decatur any time soon, stop by; got plenty of Pepsi and peanuts!

Helpful Words

I am a Christian; a Methodist doctrine follower to some extent. Neither predispositions stop me from admiring other religions. Just last week, I was doing yard work when I noticed two young men in white shirts and neckties approaching my house; I knew immediately that they were Jehovah Witnesses. Had they been 'rap-singers' they would've been wearing their trousers lower and grabbing their 'genitals' while walking with a stiff-leg limp; they were NOT rap singers, they were Jehovah Witnesses!

I stood up from my grass manicuring activity and offered them a friendly handshake and immediately told them that I had a 'plan' for salvation but appreciated them caring and taking the time to think about me; end of greeting and end of conversation. I do admire the missionary commitment demonstrated by that religion and I expressed that as I sat back down to trim more ivy from the walk way.

I admire any group that stops four or five times per day to drop to their knees facing a certain direction and praying to their 'god.' I don't know of any Christian sect that does that 'stop-in-the-name-of belief-and-pray' religion. My goodness, I say 'grace' once a per day and whisper one other daily prayer and I pat myself on the back thinking that I am some kinda glory-bound-believer. Of course, I rationalize to my Christian-ego that I am always in a prayerful attitude; how 'bout you?

While returning from the Metro-East area this past Thursday, I did thank God for allowing a two-day get together with a couple of former high school teammates of mine. We are at that age when we know not when our ranks will suddenly diminish and any brief time we share is worthy of a thank-you, Jesus prayer.

I have a speaking engagement coming up soon which prompted my wife to ask a question. She inquired, "Over the years and the many speaking gigs you have had, which one paid you the most?" I told her that a school district once gave me five hundred dollars to speak for ten minutes and to this day I feel guilty agreeing to the arrangement. I did not tell my wife that my most 'profitable' words ever spoken were those words of praise directed towards her over our fifty-three married years.

I need to book a hotel accommodation for this upcoming speaking engagement but I hesitate doing it via the telephone,. I like to walk into a hotel and check it out before making arrangements. Actually, the best method for me regarding hotel stays is to pull under the hotel canopy, allow my wife to go inside and if she returns to the car smiling, I'm delighted to grab the luggage. I have just one hotel-stay-rule, if a sign appears on a hotel's front entrance, 'Interpreter on Duty,' I don't stay there!

Yes, I do whisper a prayer just before I am introduced as a speaker: 'Dear God, thank you for this humbling moment. Open ears that they may understand my words and filter those words to serve others.'

I Remember it Well...

The mosquitoes have been terrible this summer and consequently, my backyard swing time is diminished. When your time arrives you will understand the many pleasures associated with a yard swing. Aside from the shade, gentle breeze and mesmerizing movement; you embrace nostalgia reminiscing drifting through your brain channels while swinging.

Unfortunately, I am beginning to have memory lapses. I 'forget' things and if that continues, I shall be saying adios to nostalgia moments.  This could lead to the day when I'll be swinging and smiling like a blooming idiot and passing neighbors will believe I am happy and this will not necessarily be the circumstance.

Considering this possibility, I made a list of my favorite things just in case this 'forgetfulness' becomes a serious reality. I sent each of my grown children a copy of 'Dad's Nostalgia List' because there is a good chance that I will misplace my list.

Here is my nostalgia memory (cheat) sheet:

Favorite Song: 'Only You' (The Platters); but song hook...'if we could start anew, I wouldn't hesitate, I'd gladly take you back and tempt the hands of fate...' (Little Anthony & The Imperials).
Favorite Romance Flick: 'An Affair to Remember' (Cary Grant & Deborah Kerr)
Top Sport fete I witnessed: Stan Musial's five (5) home runs 1954 vs. Giants; Sportsman's Park (St. Louis)
Best Puppy Love Moment: Stealing kisses from a 14-year old girl named, Gerry at the 'lagoon,' Jones' Park (East St. Louis)
Son (Steve): At 6 years old he had his tonsils removed and insisted on eating a hamburger the same afternoon.
Daughters Dawn & Pamela: At 6 years & four years of age, they were mad at their mother & decided to 'leave' home but returned in 2-minutes because she knew they were not to cross the street.

Softest fingers: My maternal grandmother, Mammy Bennett; put me to sleep rubbing my head.
Most Compassionate Person: (giving): My father
The Best laughter: My mother

I remember that every thing goes better with chocolate. I remember Rush Limbaugh is the most mean spirited soul I ever heard speak.

 I once scored thirty points in a high school basketball game and pitched all eleven innings of a high school championship baseball game, which we won. I love my wife calling my name even when she is angry....and finally, my favorite grandchild is uh,...Uh,...oh crap, I knew this damn memory thing was becoming an issue.

Oh, Really!

I had a telephone call from a friend this past weekend; he posed a question. "Mel, don't you think that your recent blogs have been somewhat harsh on our fellow countrymen?" He was referring to my comments regarding the national poll, which suggested 59% of Americans were opposed to any military action against Syria after that country's chemical weapons attack on innocent civilians both adults and children. If you recall, I said that we should not take such polls seriously when considering that one-third of America's 317 million people either cannot 'read' or read at or below a fifth grade level. I'll double-down and add this: Most Americans regardless of 'reading-level-ability' are more interested in self-absorbed issues rather than the broader issues.

I did not spend much time defending my comments, I seldom do. I did thank the caller for reading my blog and taking the time to telephone with his thoughts and opinions. We talked about many other things before saying our goodbyes. I did give consideration in the ensuing days regarding the Syrian situation and Americas 'poll-opinions' but then just yesterday this bit of info came down the communication line: The three days following Miley Cyrus' burlesque-tease dance on the MTV awards show, the Internet logged the following: For every ONE Internet 'search' about America's position on Syria's use of chemical gas, which killed 1400 people, there was TWELVE Internet 'searches on Miley Cyrus' 'dance.' Hey, as the urban slang states, 'It is what it is.' We are a self-centered, self-serving lot.

 Most Americans basically don't give a rat's ass about any thing that does not affect their weekend fun-plans, i.e., party, tailgating or American Idol. I pass a neighbor's yard every day at 6:45 A.M. while on my 40-minute daily walk. The neighbor has a yard sign that reads: 'Pray for Our Nation.' I would second THAT request...however, when America's yard signs read: 'Pray for ALL Nations' ...we will finally have our heads out of our narcissistic asses.

I expect my good friend to call me back any day now with an apology; I've been hanging near the telephone in anticipation.

So You Wanna Be Happy?

I suppose the driving force of the human-experience is to 'feel' significant, i.e., that which I 'do' truly matters, eh? This is why, I have always told my older grandchildren to pursue that occupation, which you truly wish to do and attempt to 'serve' others in some manner.

An early 'lesson' imparted to me as a young boy was my father telling me frequently, when giving me a chore, "Hey boy, any job worth doing is worth doing well." I believe the secret to work-place joy and happiness is 'finding that job' for which you have great passion  because you will undoubtedly 'do-it-well.' Then there was another voice that gave me a parting 'tip' from Illinois State University as I prepared to graduate. Howard "Moose" Hancock, the athletic director, pulled me aside and said, "Roustee (note; that is not a misspelling, he called me Roustee), when you take a teaching/coaching position some administrator will likely give you a written job description; tear the damn thing up and re-write the description with actions creating 'bigger' shoes to fill for your successor." Great advise. The benefactors of such a teaching philosophy are the youngsters.

At some point in most every one's journey, you have the opportunity to 'lead.' The most successful leaders that I have known have the unique ability to instill 'ownership-cause' in co-workers & followers. It is proven true that we all find a more 'willing' spirit when we feel tied to the outcome?

Life is a brief proposition. One has but a fraction of real time to 'do' whatever it is he/she is supposed to do. When I survey my professional and personal life, I notice a common denominator; love for those who need whatever it might be that I could possibly 'give.'

I must now push myself away from this typing machine and take toy poodle, Yodie for a walk. The pup has terrific leadership traits. He has convinced me that walking and picking up his 'poop' is important and getting him treats is fun; smart little fella. I just wonder: If aliens from another planet are spying on us and note me walking Yodie and picking up his 'poop' in my little plastic bag...how the hell are those 'outer-space cats' processing this activity?

Don't Flush, Yet !

A recent email that I received offered the opinions of an 1887 Scottish history professor who advanced the theory that a democracy is always temporary because voters discover within 200 years that they can vote for candidates who promise to support 'giveaway programs.' Eventually, this will bankrupt the treasury and a dictatorship will follow.  (I can't fool you readers; you likely already know the origin of the email).

The email then took, as I expected, liberties. I quote from the email: "From bondage to spiritual faith...from spiritual Faith to courage...from courage to liberty...from liberty to abundance...from abundance to complacency...from complacency to apathy...from apathy to dependence...from dependence to bondage." The email used another University Professor's 'numbers to underscore that welfare people and murderers voted for Obama while decent tax-paying citizens voted for Romney. Finally, did you know that should Congress grant amnesty and citizenship to twenty million illegals--and those folks 'vote' --we can bend-over and kiss our country's ass goodbye; so said my email!!! My history recollections is of a nation that was not a true democracy when women and Black people could not vote;  those days when the majority of 'white' male voters believed that women should be pregnant (in the kitchen) and Blacks should be bent over in 'cotton-fields.' What a democracy, then!! My good Americans, 'democracy' means equality, freedoms and popular suffrage.

The email implies that the current political events in America are causing a democracy-free fall. The subliminal message is that our country is 'falling-from-greater times.' If we return to the good old days, what time-period shall we re-visit? The early frontier days offered good land acquisition opportunities...recall when we screwed the Native America 'taking' their land. We felt that they were savages and we were God's chosen white-guys. Perhaps we could return to that wonderful plantation era when we had good cheap labor. That Lincoln guy had to interfere. Today's brown-face 'field-hands' keep sneaking in from Mexico; next thing you know, they will get citizenship, the vote and this democracy will fall another couple-of-rungs according to the email 'message.'

Shall we go back to a time in history when taxes were low and workers had no unions; if we still had those circumstances, our great American-loving corporations would not have to outsource jobs to realize a profit. Never mind that the tax monies collected built Inter-state highways, research medical centers and stadiums where we can have our Sunday NFL beer-guzzling tailgate parties, which is almost as much fun as putting sheets over our heads and burning peoples' houses.

The email said that if I favor 'this,' I am to pass the email along to others. My dilemma is I am not sure if it meant favoring amnesty for illegals or democracy falling into a dictatorship. I just love those freaking emails that give parameters to my convictions, feelings and love?

Folks, don't panic and flush this great Nation down the toilet just yet. Things will get better. Do you not understand...the sky is always falling and the world is coming to an end any time America has a Democrat in the oval office.

 Ah crap, the moment has arrived, I must choose between 'send' or 'delete.'

Don't Take It Personal !

Many would suggest that one's relationship with 'God' is personal, although I would contend it is no longer private. Religion seemed to 'go' public on the heels of a very rancorous late 1960's. Several notable evangelists and preachers began to weigh-in with religious agendas for the government to consider. I do believe that Godly folks should place their opinions in the public forum. My greatest  reservation is that political parties and political candidates are opportunist when they can define a large block of voters who could 'get them elected.'

Just this week, I read about am Amish family that had a judge side with the parents, who for religious reasons, were withholding chemotherapy treatment from their 10-year old child. Another parenting couple is suing the government to have the phrase, 'under God' removed from the Pledge of Allegiance.

Come now, you all have heard the flag/Bible waving rhetoric from the Fox News boys about fighting our 'liberal news media' and big government, which they insist is anti-religion and boarder line heathens. While many pontificating Christians point fingers at the ACLU for protecting Satanic ways and agendas, these folks would not have a clue on processing Biblical scriptures against secular realities. For example, if you please: Issue #1:  Budget cuts for the poor vs. tax cuts for the wealthy..."For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matthew 6:21) and "For everyone who has been given much, much will be required." (Luke 12:48), finally," "Go and sell all your possessions and give to the poor." (Mark 10:21-25) Note: Don't everyone rush to the banks on the same day.

Issue #2 Prayer in Public Schools: The U .S. Constitution states that the government will not establish a particular religion, so what religion's prayer shall we endorse for our schools. Oh, you say we are a nation founded upon Judea-Christian principles; okay shall It be a Jewish recitation a "Hail Mary" or something from the Pentecostal doctrine? Keep in mind that we were also established as a nation inviting 'freedom' to worship or not worship! "When you pray, you are not to be like the hypocrites; they love to stand on street corners and be seen by men...go to your inner room, close the door ...your Father who sees what you have done in secret will reward you." (Matthew 6:5-6)

Issue #3: Kill minimum wage, bust the union workers and recall those health care programs: who turn.    "I will draw near to you judgment and I will be a swift witness against those who oppress the wage earner in his wages, the widow and the orphan and those  aside the alien and do not fear Me." (Malachi 3:5).

My good readers & friends, I leave you with two (2) considerations. (1) It ain't ever easy being a 'real' Christian and (2) Be wary of the political party, which suggests that God is on their side; be sure that your actions reflect that which Jesus taught, however if you're not a Christian let your actions reflect something else; this is the land of the free.

Surely You Understand

Most have perhaps heard maybe even  'said' the following: 'How could he/she do such a thing?' 'What was he/she thinking?' 'That was certainly wrong!' 'Don't they see the unfairness?' ...I am sure I leave one or two of your favorites out but you readers get the idea. From time to time, we are dumbfounded by the actions or behavior of others. There is an opening song line that goes like this..."How many times have you heard someone say, if I had his money, I'd do things my way." Well, doing things one's own way is one's own prerogative as it should be. All of us will do some things 'our way,' which cause others to be perplexed.

We should be thankful that there is a brain-component, which allows us to 'rationalize.' If we did not have argument-reasoning ability, we would have lots of folks jumping off tall buildings. Everybody engages in behavior that satisfies need, greed and pleasure. Some needs are basic, some pleasures are self-serving while some pleasure comes from serving. All greed is self-centered. I know the aforementioned to be true because my personal scoreboard reflects all. However, the beauty of 'rationalization' allows me to 'defend' most actions and behavior thus keeping me away from the top of those tall buildings. Simply stated: I'm OKAY; I had good reasons for my actions.

As most things in life, more is NOT better; too much of something can be dangerous. I offer the following examples: terrorists, mass murderers and politicians... these are perhaps some who take 'rationalization' over-the-top.

I remind my children, from time-to-time, that their abilities to rationalize can assist them in forgiving their father's behavior if they dig deep enough!

Surround Yourself With Good People

He was my assistant basketball coach at Edwardsville and Jacksonville totaling twenty-five seasons. He and his wife were loyal to the basketball program, Coach Roustio and the Roustio family. He taught driver's education and taught all three of our children behind-the-wheel. He is Ken Hickman and he and his wife, Sharon are moving back home to Indiana after being Illinois residence for forty-something years. The Hickman's have two adult sons, Jason and Kyle, aka, 'Carl' who are both married with children. The move put Ken & Sharon Hickman closer to their sons, grandchildren and other family folks. Good for them and God Bless.

My wife and I helped them move a few items this past Monday and of course, we staked out the travel route for future reference. I suppose that I have had two dozen or more assistant coaches during my coaching career...none worked any harder for the 'cause' and made me laugh more than Coach Hickman.

Check it out: During a varsity basketball contest (1979), I heard someone yelling at me from behind the bench, "Get him out of there," was the repeated-screaming comment directed at me and the player they wanted off the floor was my son. I said to Hickman, after a time out, "Who the hell is yelling to take him out?" Hickman answered, "It's your wife." I smiled and told Hickman to go into the bleachers and tell my wife to shut up." He sat down next to me and said, "As soon as pigs fly, I'll get right on that, Coach!"

While coaching at Edwardsville 1975, Hickman noticed our players' individual gym bags were unusually 'stuffed.' He followed some players after a game and discovered a sleep-over-drinking party...the players from then on called Hickman, "Barney Fife."  Also during those Edwardsville years, I had an administration that could be a tad bit pissy. For example, one season the coaches did NOT have keys to the gym but had to check out a master key the day of a contest. Well, I forgot one night and upon returning from out of town, I discovered I did not have the key. A sophomore kid said, "I'll get us into the gym, Coach." He took a coat hanger out of a nearby trash can and manipulated the panic bar trough  the door-crack and 'bingo!' The dry comment coming from Hickman was, "Hey, Coach don't you have two-Master's degrees? Well buddy-boy, learn from the street kid!"

One player we coached was suspected of smoking pot but never caught. One night in practice the player uncharacteristically picked up a 'charging foul' and immediately jumped to his feet screaming in celebration. Hickman said, "Don't give me that. Your blurry eyes saw two (2) figures coming towards you and you guessed wrong trying to get out of the way!!"

One winter, Hickman was proud of a new snow-blower he purchased. After cleaning off his walks, drive ways and those of his neighbors he had his wife hold a ladder while he lugged the snow-blower atop his roof to clean off the roof; a first I am sure!

The last year he coached for me he said, "Mel, it's time to quit this gig; I have been asking the same question of players while taping ankles for twenty-five years."> question..."If you had a choice between the team winning 20 games or you averaging 20-points this season, which would you choose?" He continued saying to me, "Today's players are beginning to hesitate with their answer."
Point well-taken.

Thanks for the loyalty, friendship and laughter.  Good luck and stay off the roof even though you are back in the State of 'Hoosiers.'

Some Stories Bear Repeating

I shall share two quick stories with you who are kind enough to take time to read these daily words. One story explains part of the past the other story offers hope for the future.

 We recently had house guests. Our son, Steve and his wife, Kathy and three of their five children came for an overnight visit and joining us for the weekend was Steve's former high school friend/basketball teammate and his girlfriend. It was most enjoyable to reminisce with two of my former players (1980) and listen to familiar stories re-told and new tales unfolding.

Steve's teammate still lives in Jacksonville where I completed a twenty-one year coaching tenure. The local hometown player told of some former players he sees who may speak poorly of their old coach. Of course, this is not 'new' to my ears; perceptions become realities and most assuredly those former players who received limited playing time remember a different perception and thus hold a negative feeling about the coach while those who played a lot have fonder recall-reality of a better mentor. Simple logic rules.

 Speaking of perceptions, I recall in my early years at Jacksonville, a community of thirty thousand people and less than 10% 'Black,' a African-American adult whom I came to know very well ask me a serious question. He apologized in advance of his inquiry when he said, "Coach, do 'white' people in Jacksonville offer coaches money to play their kids?" I responded saying, "Frank, I cannot speak to the history of this community or school district and other coaches but I can tell you that I have never been offered money or favors for special player-playing-time consideration and furthermore, I would only play kids who acknowledge me as boss, sacrifice self  and who can help us win!" The sad reality of Frank's question is simple: Frank, as many little 'black boys,' grew up in Jacksonville embracing that myth perpetuated in the small 'Black-neighborhood' of Jacksonville.

Another question tossed my way was offered as follows: "Why did some folks say that (coach) you were aloof, distant or appeared pompous?" I explained, "Those perception resulted from an intentional design to insulate myself. Through time and experience in the high school coaching arena, I came to notice that I was indeed every citizens 'coach and should I be perceived as too cozy with one socio-economic group than another, I would offend."  "Let me elaborate. Every community has a broad spectrum of social and economic engagements. Should I be with country club folks after ball games I would piss-off those who did not 'run' in that crowd; should I belly up at the local watering hole after the game, I offended the teetotalers. My best bet was to circle the wagons with my coaching staff that's exactly what I did...look, to many I was nothing more than a trinket...The Coach."

Second story: One of my grandsons seems put off by a fall coach who is reluctant giving out 'atta-boy' praises. I cornered this grandson and his brother before they departed my home and asked if they knew the difference between 'intrinsic and extrinsic.' I got the answer I expected; "NO." Therefore, I explained and underscored that extrinsic is fleeting and fickle. If we buy into the extrinsic we run a risk of allowing 'others' to define our value. I then made my case for intrinsic self-motivation and gratification, which places us in control of our self-worth and subsequent self-esteem. I am sure I will repeat that sermon again because it is the most important story of the two you just read.