It's That Time

Happy New Year Greetings! The start of the new year brings attention to 'numbers.' We note the number '1' as it depicts the beginning of a fresh countdown to marking 12 ensuing months, which will allow us to catalog the unfolding events in a specific 'time-period.'

 Most Americans will select a favorite calendar upon which they will make endless notation-reminders of appointments and commemorative events. Consider this, if you will, 2014 looks foreign to this writer whose first calendar read, '1939.'

I always make 10 New Year's resolutions, after all it is part of the annual exercise. Here goes...

1.  I will drop 20 pounds by March 4, 2014
2.  I will not speak the names Hannity and Limbaugh more than once per week.
3.  I will continue to telephone my grandchildren and offer challenges and uncomfortable reminders.
4.  I will spend more time on my backyard swing...pondering.
5.  I will refrain from cursing Cardinals' manager, Mike Matheny...until October
6.  I will praise more and criticize less.
7.  I will embrace the possibility that those who disagree with me are not necessarily wrong or dumb.
8.  I will clean my garage and come to know where everything is located. (Leftover from 2013 resolutions) 
9.  I will have at least one 'date-night' per week with my wife.
10. I will continue to praise God for the 'things' beyond my abilities to procure as I ponder the ultimate question: 'Why has God been  
      so good to me?

I just read these resolutions to my wife and asked her, which resolution will be the most difficult for me. She said, "Number '6,' praising more and criticizing less will be difficult but embracing the possibility that those disagreeing with you is impossible for you." What does she know?!

Time Out, Please!

This 2014 New Year marks my seventy-fourth 'ring-in-the-new' celebration. Actually, I will turn seventy-five February 18...another way to state this reality is: I have witnessed 27,327 sunsets. Between 'Mother Nature' and 'Father Time,' I find myself between a rock and hard place. Mother Nature keeps doing her thing with the grass growing, leaves falling and snow piling and Father Time keeps making it more difficult for this old-boy to keep pace with Mother Nature. I am not complaining but wishing for a slow down.

I will need to get some 'solid-sleep' the next day or two because these old eyes will be required to watch 12 football bowl games within a 36-hour period. I will need to remember all the scoring touchdown passes and digest hundreds of television commercials. My brain and thought process is getting muddy and it is due to all the debris I must filter. I have arrived at that point in life where my yesterdays, todays and tomorrows eat every meal with me. I need to be put into 'time-out.'...oops, that's another story for a later time.

Wishing for More Journey

Yesterday morning, I did what I have done the previous eighteen years on the day after Christmas; I woke up at 6 AM and came downstairs to sit alone in our living room. My reason for this annual exercise is to embrace the morning-after quietness while all other family members remain sleeping. I can mentally study each empty chair where love ones sat a mere 10 hours earlier. They opened gifts, they showed excitement and pleasure in giving. They shared laughter and re-told old stories and shared new adventures in their respective journeys. I delight in this solo recall. It allows me to think more deeply about each adult child and grandchild's unique persona. What blessings!

Slowly other family members found their way from sleeping spots all over our home. Personal belongings were gathered and soon my wife and I bid adieu to twenty-three love ones. We spent the next five hours sweeping, cleaning and restoring order to the empty house, which had been so noisy with joyful celebrations. What glorious memory-making times.

This morning, we shall head to the Metro-East area to watch our son's Granite City basketball team participate in the Collinsville-Schnuck's Holiday Classic.

The time period between Christmas and the New Year will be marked with reflective thoughts laced with the 'hope' for tomorrow and more family-gathering stops perhaps another day after Christmas...perhaps more journey.

I hope your Christmas was the best-ever.

Answers from a Boompa

Our Christmas gathering will produce three married children, their spouses, fifteen grandchildren (add another spouse), one great-grandchild, four dogs but thank your dangling mistletoe there is no partridge in a pear tree. That totals 23 people and four canine...we have enough food; just praying for enough patience.

Usually at such family gatherings, old man 'Boompa' gets a couple of questions fired my way. Therefore, I have made this advance get together reference cheat sheet. I am ready for, "Hey Boompa, "What is the.......blah, blah, blah in your life?"

*Best childhood Christmas present: A second-hand Roadmaster bike @ age 9 and a new baseball glove @ age 11.
*What do you remember most about youthful Christmas'? Smiling faces, wonderful laughter and Mammy's custard, eggnog type drink.
* Which of your family members enjoyed Christmas the most? My Dad and my wife. Funny thing, it is said that a man tends t marry someone like his mother; I married a girl more like my father.

*What has made you laugh the most?  Your Nana.
*Why do you like Yodie, the Toy Poodle more than your kids? Yodie never causes issues except when he tries to hump visiting dogs.
*Funniest movie you ever saw? 'No Time for Sergeants' (Andy Griffith) & 'Step Brothers' (Will Ferrell).
*Best drama movie? 'Affair to Remember,' 'Good Will Hunting' and 'The Godfather.'
*What is the best T.V. comedy show ever? 'Lucy' and 'Big Bang Theory.'
*What is the best science-fiction television program? Sean Hannity on Fox News.
*Greatest poet you enjoy? Chuck Berry...just Google the songs: 'Nadine' and 'Johnny B. Good' for confirmation.
*Best all-around baseball player you ever saw play....Willie Mays (Giants)
*What is the greatest thing about sports? No guarantees but you do have risks and achievement relates to preparation.
*What do you dislike about sport? Athletes who celebrate that which is expected-responsibilities.
*Best advice you ever received: "Don't let your mouth overload your ass!" (my Father) "Remember, Jesus is coming a second-   time." (my Mammy)

* What do you miss this most this Christmas? My Mother's voice.
* Would you like to live your life over and would you change much. "Absolutely and very little."
* What is the best Christmas you ever had? "The year was......2013 and YOU were there!

Cue From a Pup

I must confess that I missed church yesterday. I had difficulty sleeping Saturday night and simply could not get going Sunday morning. I think this old man's mind does too much 'thinking' at times it should be in neutral.

I spent the entire Sunday morning television sermon-searching. I first listened to Dr. Charles Stanley; he has excellent messages and keeps me 'In Touch.' After Stanley, I caught an interview with Pastor Joel Olsteen who ministers to that Texas mega church. Olsteen may deliver the most consistent positive Christian message of our day. Olsteen always makes me feel that more is possible. Finally, I caught up with an African-American minister who was giving a passionate sermon about embracing 'Spiritual Joy.' This sermon caused me to recall my East St. Louis youth. Back in the mid-1950's, I'd often listen to a local Black minister on the radio Sunday evenings. This Rev was once scolding his Church members. It seems there was an on-going regional drought and the Rev told his members that they would be praying and petitioning the Lord to open up the Heavenly waters on this specific Sunday evening. Well, the good pastor took issue with his followers when he said, "I look around the church tonight and I don't see that anybody who brought an umbrella...ye believers of little faith; where is your spiritual Joy and Hope?""

My memory walk was interrupted yesterday morning when the door bell rang. Quickly, as always, Toy Poodle, Yodie' sprang from the couch barking and scampered to the front door. As I walked to open the door, I looked down at the pup and noticed his tail was wagging wildly and he could not contain his emotion to greet this total stranger. I thought...what a wonderful display of 'spiritual joy and anticipation.'

As I prepare to press this post button, I ask readers to imagine a world with the 'trusting' of a child and the Joyous hope of a puppy.

Make Winter Ponderin' Memories

I don't cotton much to winter weather. I prefer sitting on my backyard swing 'ponderin' folks' ways. When I am forced inside, I get Claustrophobia ponderin' and soon I begin talking to people on the television; sometimes I shout at them when they say stupid stuff. This behavior is problematic...my wife is building cause to institutionalize me.

Most of my life, I was on school buses during winter months as a basketball player or basketball coach, going to a game. I would gaze out those bus windows and see folks scurrying about going into malls and restaurants; I'd wonder what that must be like. Since retiring, I found out 'what that feels like' and I'd rather be back on the bus headed to a game.

A few years back, my grandkids were young and this time of year, I'd telephone them and pretend that I was Santa Claus...that gig is long up. I think kids, today, would have a better understanding of the true spirit of Christmas if their parents made them give away something they still cherish to an underprivileged kid before getting any 'new' gifts.

My wife and I became 'puppy-loves' when I was a ninth grader and she in the eighth grade...that Tally's sixty-Christmas'. Most of those Holiday Seasons, we bundled up kids and headed to the Metro-East area to embrace parents, five brothers, two sisters and a bevy of Aunts and Uncles. Yesterday, my wife and I had a luncheon with my brother, his wife and a brother-in law; that's all that remains. It is indeed, a sobering thought but I ponder the wonderful precious memories.

I wish you all a good memory-making Christmas this Holiday Season so that the winter-time of your journey is good ponderin'.

America's 'Throw-Away Kids'

My wife entered the family room yesterday and said, "That Jerry Springer Show, you are watching is a bunch of low-life garbage." I did not disagree with her but stated that I thought it was 'real-life' drama and the personalities remind me of some high school kids I taught in an alternative education program. I will not deny that much of the conversation between the Springer-participants is indeed low-brow but I maintain that most of those folks have baggage of a profound deep-seeded nature, which negatively impacts every aspect of their relationships.

I remember at the beginning of each year that I taught the alternative education classes, I would pose a simple straightforward question and ask each kid to write a one-paragraph answer. The question was: 'If you could go back (in your young life) and change just one thing what would you change?'  Let me assure you that the answers can absolutely break your heart. Samples: 'I wish my step-father had not sexually molested me.'  'I would stop my dad from beating my mother.'  'I would stop my parents from drinking.'  'I would  have told my parents about my brothers drugs before he got caught selling.' ...These are the students who come to school tardy or skip school... These are the kids who get suspended for telling the teacher to go f*#k themselves when scolded for wearing a hat inside the building, as if THAT was a high priority issue in their screwed-up life... These are the kids who never learned to read and consequently never had a chance at school success because they had so damn much crap to deal with in their young-untutored personal lives.

When these students dropped out of school and sought minimal paying jobs, they married or got pregnant and repeated some of the behavior cycle that was an early-childhood blueprint. I watch Stringer thinking that I may see one of my former students. I can guaranteed anyone that those soap-opera folks would each love to 'go back' and change something in their past.

American children will be left behind if Early childhood education is not a top priority with funding and innovative ideas. Of course, our politicians will 'talk-education' when running for office but once elected they will vote to cut school programs while raising farm subsides. It is our bullshit tradition!

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Megyn, Santa Is NOT Real

Megyn Kelly is a female-blond Fox News Anchor personality. Kelly sheds a 'bad light' on females, blond's and certainly news anchor persons! May I elaborate? During a recent news segment, Megyn Kelly was trashing an op-ed article written by an African-American lady, who suggested that she, as a child, was placed in uncomfortable social and school circumstances by the traditional depiction and notion that Santa Claus is 'WHITE.' Kelly inferred that this article was more 'race-baiting' garbage; Kelly then made a strong point to all viewers, especially any kids watching stating, "Santa Claus is 'WHITE' and so is Jesus." I am positive Kelly also believes that the Easter Bunny is 'white' and the tooth fairy' is a wand-waving blond; of course all these folks, in Kelly's mind, are God fearing Republicans who are pro-lifers on the one-hand yet on another matter they strongly support the NRA and favor capital punishment. And just think Jesus taught love, tolerance and service to others.

The sad aspect of this verbal folly by Megyn Kelly is she fails to grasp one itsy-bitsy fact... Santa Claus is a mythical character. Another naked reality seemingly escaping Kelly's grey-matter is the historical documentation that Jesus of Nazareth was a person from the Middle East; a Jew who looked like other Hebrews or perhaps (here's a shocker, Megyn) an Arab. Jesus was not blond and blue eyed...sorry, Megyn.

Furthermore, could we Bible waving Americans please accept the reality that much of the Christmas 'hoopla' has little to do with the birth of Jesus or even the goodness of a real Saint Nicholas but more to do with Saint Capitalism.

Kelly would have a meltdown if she came across this quote: "It is impossible to separate Christmas from its pagan origin." (Catholic Church)

The problem I have with all this mythical nonsense is we encourage a young child to go to sleep so a fat white guy can sneak in the house and leave toys then we turn around and tell the kids not to accept gifts from a stranger in broad daylight. And by the way, how do we know that the tooth fairy is not a pedophile? Furthermore, what adult in their 'right mind' collects discarded teeth?

The Verticle Power of Prayer

I never understood the fuss and arguments regarding 'prayer' in public schools; I conducted prayer for the thirty-nine years in the public school arena. Let me qualify that statement. During those many coaching years, I had a pregame prayer over a thousand times on public school properties in a quasi public-school classroom albeit the gymnasium locker room. I suppose that even my adversaries did not make an issue out of this practice for fear of painting themselves as fanatic-agnostics.

The first five or six years coaching, I asked the players to assemble before 'taking-the-floor' to collective say The Lord's Prayer. This was okay except over time it seemed to be a recitation without much meaning and besides, we Christians can agree on a Savior but we have a difficult time agreeing on how to end The Lord's Prayer. Therefore, I began saying the pregame prayer myself. My intention in this matter was to focus players' attention on the fact that they should be grateful for physical health, opportunities and competition relationships. The prayer was never about winning. In fact, I still detest the athlete who points to the Heavens, as if to thank a deity for his athletic success; I always wondered if he was saying to his God, "Hey thanks for allowing to opponent to fail." I got a feeling God could care less about those self-serving prayers.

I recall one player in the 1970's, who truly found motivation in my prayers. In the fourth quarter of a hotly contested basketball game, this boy called an unexpected time out. As the team gathered at courtside, I asked the lad why he called the time out. He said, "Coach my legs are getting tired and I've noticed that I can jump higher after you pray; so could you say a quick prayer?"

Yes, it was a player at Edwardsville high school.

Always My Brother's Keeper

Several years ago, I was coaching basketball at a high school where I was also teaching physical education. One day while waiting for my next physical education class to dress and assemble in the gym, I sat in the upper bleachers watching the custodian sweep the gym floor. Billy had been a part time janitor but his reputation for 'hitting' the bottle was well documented. Suddenly, Billy dropped the push-mop, jerked the hearing aid from his ear and began yelling into the hearing device as if it was a microphone. I thought to myself, holy crap, Billy has gone over the edge!

I quickly walked down the gym steps to confront the disoriented custodian when he turned away from me and ran to a lower level storage room. Billy locked the door behind him and ignored my pleas to allow me inside. He was yelling back at me , "They're coming to get me, they're coming to get me; the accident was not my fault!" After much coaxing, Billy finally opened the door. He kept repeating to me, "They are going to come and kill me, they think the accident was my fault." He was a pitifully frightened man.

It was obvious that Billy was suffering from delirium tremens (DT"s). I took him around the corner from the gym to a local general physician's office.The good medicine man examined Billy quickly and confirmed that Billy was indeed in the throws of DT's. The doctor suggested that I take him across town to a hospital, which specialized in detox programs. Soon, I am driving a school custodian, whose last name I don't know, to a detox hospital. I recalled my University's; motto; 'Gladly would he learn and gladly teach.' Nowhere did that motto suggest this particular commitment!!

After much haggling, I eventually got Billy processed for admission and was instructed to take him to the third floor for 'intake.' As Billy and I entered the large elevator together, I turned my attention to press the 3rd floor number and turned around only to see Billy running out of the twin-back-doors of the elevator. I chased him down and tackled Billy in a nearby parking lot. Billy was laughing his drunken-ass off. Finally, Billy was placed in the hands of the medical caretakers...I returned to my paying-job's contractual duties.

Several folks told me later that Billy said to them: "I never did like that Coach Roustio."
Lesson: People who need help don't always want your help... help them anyway!

Escape To La La Land

Sometime ago, I heard a preacher fella state that God gives everyone potential talents and a spiritual mission to run life's race.  He went on to say that most folks don't complete the race because they become sidetracked watching others' run 'the race.' It's like my Grandpa E.V. would tell Mammy when she was about to get drawn into a 'gossip-moment,'  E.V. would say, "Now Mary, you need to tend to your own knittin!"  I think we often lose confidence and focus in our own potential when we focus too much on others.

Recently, I read a study that suggests parents have it wrong by telling young children that they are smart when the child does poorly academically and likewise adults do the kid a disservice telling him that he is talented when he falls short of sport successes. Several years ago, parents bought into the idea that 'praise' in and of itself, would somehow 'make it so' and said praise would effect positive outcomes; bull-butter!!! It appears, according to this study, that unwarranted praise causes the brain to shut down effort because the kid thinks he is OKAY going about business as usual. The fact is...if we keep doing what we are doing we WILL most likely get the same results. I personally have been preaching against this self-esteem gobbledygook message (through bogus youth awards) for years!

Mark these words: I will not live to see it, but one day there will be study findings suggesting that fat kids need to be in rigorous daily physical education classes and an occasional parental spanking on the misbehaving child's butt will facilitate early childhood accountability development before the kid goes to the school house.

I Have THIS Idea...Wanna Help?

It was never just about coaching the team. As a coach, I understood that someone was there (in the position) before me and someone will follow. That said, I believe that any coach worth his salt, during his tenure, should program-build to the extent that the one who follows will have bigger shoes to fill; consequently, the youngsters coming to the program become the benefactors. Can I get an AMEN?!

When I took the basketball coaching position at Edwardsville high school, I initiated a sixteen team Christmas Holiday Invitational Tournament. I negotiated to garner basketball crazy Lincoln, Illinois and other strong programs such as East St. Louis, Bloomington and Elk Grove. This effort preceded the now entrenched Collinsville-Schnucks Holiday Classic. Due to a couple of Edwardsville individuals with personal vendettas towards yours truly, the Edwardsville Holiday Tournament was doomed for failure. Specifically, the monies made on the tourney gate was put into the general fund and used for 'other' purchases rather than the enhancement of the tournament; don't thank me, Collinsville. Thank those of those who are searching for hell.

After seven years coaching the Edwardsville 'Tigers,' I opted to leave and take the challenge at Jacksonville high school. The next twenty-one years reaped many benefits for me personally, the basketball program and athletes in West Central Illinois. Let me speak briefly and specifically to the latter. I had the necessary support to initiate and establish the following: (1) a Hall-of-Fame Program at Jacksonville high; (2) a Scholar-Rotary Athlete -of -The -Year Awards Ceremony for 51 high schools in West Central Illinois and (3) a  West Central Illinois All-Star Charity- Benefit Basketball Event. A huge tahnk you to the late, Jerry Symons, Buford Green and Ron Tendick for these realizations.

The beat goes on. Yesterday morning I met with Decatur School District Personnel and Decatur Park District Administrators to explore the joint endeavor of site developments, which will ultimately do two things: (1 ) Celebrate Decatur's rich sports history and (2) serve as an incentive to challenge our Decatur youth today to excel.

It only happens when you wanna and can identify others who wanna, TOO! Oh, it helps if egos are checked at the door.

I Believe

I finished my prayers the other day and after the Amen, I wondered if I would ever hear God's voice; if He would someday actually speak to me as others claim He speaks to them. It would be nice if each morning God told me exactly what I could do that day to help. The Democratic National Party Organization emails me frequently telling what they are doing and suggesting what I can do; they usually want me to send them money.

Numerous Biblical passages give accounts of God speaking to people as He warns or directs them. I wish to hear God's voice as others claim. I recall, in recent years, some preachers who tell of times that God spoke to them. Several years ago, Oral Roberts, an evangelist told his television followers that God spoke to him and told Oral that he must 'raise' a certain amount of money or Oral would die. Since Oral looked a bit sickly, I decided NOT to send him any money; I thought it would be a waste so instead my wife and I sent twenty bucks to Shriner's Hospital for Crippled Children.

When G.W. was President, he said that he talked with God before bombing Iraq. G.W. left the impression that perhaps God 'signed-off'' on the bombing decision but far be it from me who has never 'heard' God's voice to challenge what others claim...I'm not sure I buy that, however.

I will just keep saying my prayers and thank God for His blessings and show of grace. I'll ask Him to keep me alert to His will. My Mammy use to tell me that God speaks to us through the Holy Spirit. If those vote hungry politician begin using the term 'Holy Spirit,' they will scare the dickens out of folks; might get them votes however, from people who think God is voting for that dude.

I must stop now. I just heard a voice from 'above.' The voice is strong and deep, "Come get this laundry basket and let the dog out!"
Although she is not my master, I'd still better do what she asks; it's worked for fifty-three years.

I pray for you readers each day and I know He hears my plea; it's FAITH. Faith needs no voice confirmation.

The Line Keeps Moving

I dislike two things: cod liver oil and goodbyes. Both cause me a gag-reflex. As an adult, I can say 'no' to cod liver oil but I cannot escape the goodbyes. Goodbyes are difficult because they signal control loss and with it comes uncertainty. I remember those years when my wife and I would 'tuck' the children into bed and feel the comfort knowing they were safe and secure. Slowly the children expanded their geographical and social boundaries; feelings of security-comfort dissipated.

I ignored signs of change. I sent my 15-year-old son to his room. He crawled out a window to go play basketball. My middle school daughters fuss with one another over a bra and my wife struggles to resolve the issue as I cope with the thought of pimply-face boys ogling my girls.

Each time we left our child on a college campus it produced a terrible goodbye; I was sure that I had swallowed a knife. Oh, well meaning friends sent those cute cards, which spoke of 'letting go and it will return,' blah, blah, blah; hell bells, who is going to watch my kids?!

There was two goodbyes that held a 'bitter-sweetness.' The first occurred some nineteen years ago when my wife and I kept the vigil at Barnes Jewish Hospital (St. Louis) where my father spent his last moments succumbing to a compromised-weakened heart. Modern medicines and his fighting will had teamed to win that battle for some twenty-one years but this time the odds were simply too great. Just last year, December 21, I sat at my mother's bedside as she let go of her marvelous ninety-three year journey. I kept two vigils and said my goodbyes to the two people who gave me life; a life they watched-over so lovingly.

Keep the line moving.

Older is to Dumber / Peanutbutter is to Jelly

The older I get the less I get or if you please; as I age, I don't comprehend so good. I need folks to 'splain it', as Ricky Ricardo often asked Lucy.

 I notice all hospital personnel wear protective gloves while visitors touch and kiss patients. This don't jive!

I see mothers of teens (today) in Old Navy stores buying clothing that is torn and faded; the same condition of clothing my mother threw away or said would embarrass her in the hospital emergency room. Both generational mothers cannot be right!

I notice the gals working in the mall manicurist store are wearing masks but the customers are NOT. Do the anti-second-hand smoke advocates know this shits going on?

Why can lobbyist 'give' my congressmen Christmas gifts but it is against the law for me to give my mailman a Christmas gift? That's bassackwards!

Do America kids win spelling bees in foreign countries?

I have noticed that most major league baseball pitchers signing multi-million dollar contracts have approximately a 50-50 win-loss mark. The only other profession that pays a living salary for half-the-time-success is my local weatherman.

I cannot understand why parents 'helicopter-hover' over their kids until age sixteen when they buy them a car and age 18 when they let them go off with some drug rehabilitated chaperon on a 'Senior-Trip.'

Why do I pay for cable television when 35% of the programming is advertising?

Who's Your Daddy?

I overheard two women at a restaurant discussing 'the problem' with today's kids. The women agreed that mothers should be 'at home' until their kids are in school. I disagree with their conclusion even though I am a wonderful example of a kid turning out terrific with a stay-at-home Mommy. If you factor in today's economy with the decreased dollar power only a fool would be judgmental towards 'working mothers.' Furthermore, why would anybody conclude that ALL parents are good influences on their children. I have never seen stated qualifications of good parenting. Furthermore, I notice results of more poor parenting than good parenting and you do too!

Actually, if you have NOT noticed, two of the most important jobs in America require no certification process. You do not need to pass any test or undergo any certification process to be a congressman or a parent!!! Hells bells, a high school kid must pass the United States and State Constitution tests before being graduated. If you wish to 'coach' high school sports in most American States, one must take an online course and pass an 'open-book' test. On the other hand, you do not have to do one damn thing to become a parent beyond becoming 'sexually aroused.'

Considering the aforementioned scenarios, I propose that Americans pass legislation requiring all male children to receive a vasectomy at birth instead of  circumcision. Now hold your horses; don't have a hissy-fit! Please consider my logic. We would reduce teen pregnancies. We would reduce the percentage of 'single-parenting.'

When the male reaches the age 25 and can give evidence of having a job, has $20,000.00 saved and knows twelve (12) nursery rhymes, the vasectomy is then reversed. HE is NOW ready to be a father and his wife could likely be a 'stay-at-home mom.

Okay, now your solution???

My Way

If I could 'make-the-rules,' I would initiate the following this very day:

*  All counter tops would be 4-inches higher
*  Attendants would pump gas, wash windshields and bring change to my automobile
*  There would be no 3-point arc in middle school basketball
*  Baseball managers would be permitted use of only three pitchers per game
*  College athletes would have to meet the same entrance requirements as non-athletes
*  Grass would stop growing at 3-inches and snow would melt immediately when falling on pavement
*  Vegetables would be bad for you while chocolate would reduce high blood pressure and cholesterol
*  Dance recitals would be constitutionally limited to one-hour
*  All parades would lead with horses followed by marching bands...more entertaining
*  No music could be recorded if lyrics cannot be understood
*  Trucks could only use the interstate between 10P.M. and 6A.M.
*  All electronic devise and the television would be non-serviceable between 6P.M. and 10P.M. in honor of the 'family'
*  Black male singers would not be allowed to grab their crotch while singing
*  White male singers would not be allowed to imitate Black male singers
*  Fox News could not use the term 'Fair & Balanced'
*  First time sex offenders would be given life in prison
*  Government offices would NOT be permitted to have automated answering machines
*  All elected officials would have term limits
*  Elected officials convicted of a felony would forfeit retirement benefits
*  All lanes at Walmart would be 'open'
*  Theater movies would start at advertised times...no coming attractions or commercials

What's For Dinner?

Okay; quick quiz! What does Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter have in common? Answer: Each holiday yields a seemingly endless variety of 'left-over meals!' Of course, Thanksgiving and Christmas produce similar days' after menu options. My, my, my the things we do with Turkey and Ham scraps. Just yesterday, I mulled over 45 different Turkey leftover recipes; everything from 'Turkey salad'-to-baked Turkey-lasagna cups. The Ham leftovers from all three aforementioned holidays usually ends up on my plate as Ham-salad or Ham & Beans.

I recall as a kid back in East St. Louis, taking egg salad sandwiches to school Monday and Tuesday after Easter. I arrived at my hallway locker on the third floor at East Side high school and placed the two egg-salad sandwiches (wrapped in waxed paper) in my metal locker at 7:30 A.M. and retrieving the delights 4 hours later when I headed for the basement lunch area. The sandwiches were usually lukewarm but washed down easily with milk. Potato chips and Hostess 'Twinkies' removed all lingering warm egg salad taste.

Arriving at age 75, come this February has largely been due to God's Grace and crap shoot luck! Keep in mind: if Benjamin Franklin would have had 'his way,' the National Bird would be the 'Turkey" and we'd likely be eating Eagle leftovers this week.

"Little Things Mean A Lot"

My wife and I recently compared annual physical examination numbers. We are both blessed with relatively good health however, we are both experiencing the same physical change; we are 'shrinking!' That's correct. When we married in 1960, my wife stood five one and a half; she is now a mere 5 foot. If she continues at this rate of 'shrinkage,' when we celebrate our 75th wedding anniversary, we can stick her on top of the cake. As for me, I was once a strapping six foot three inch 'stud.' I am today measuring 6 foot two and that 'stud' reference may be subject to the 'shrinkage' scenario!

My wife has a rather 'Que Sera Sera' attitude about the matter; she said, "Since we are both getting smaller perhaps we can purchase a compact automobile and save on gas mileage." Women DO handle this 'aging' better than we gents.

I must stop here; the wind just knocked over trash cans and I have crap all over the front yard. I liked it better when we had alleys and placed our garbage in the backyard (alley) for pick up. This current day trash/garbage  collection location suggests that our brains have also been shrinking!

Before Now There Was Then

Saturday evening past, I closed out a thirteen year tournament coordinator's role for the Decatur Public School District. This particular run on the heels of a thirty-nine year coaching career and a 14-year youth, high school and college playing career totals 66-years in a gymnasium. The close of this incredible and passionate journey touched my hometown of East St. Louis as it appropriately should.

The East St. Louis high school "Flyers" basketball team was one of eight teams comprising the 44th annual Decatur/Team Soy Capital Turkey Tournament. Springfield Lanphier won the title game decisively over Bolingbrook and the East Side "Flyers" defeated Springfield Southeast to take third place. Antonio Young, the East St. Louis head coach, knows of my East St. Louis background and brought me two (2) East St. Louis baseball caps. One is a basic royal blue and the other is a black cap. Both caps have the word "EAST" embroidered above the STL (Cardinals') logo. The East Side High 'colors' have always been orange and blue; the cap with the blue base is true to that history. I suppose the 'black' cap with the is a tribute to the 'closed' East St. Louis 'Lincoln' high school whose 'colors' were orange and black. Both East St. Louis city schools document a rich academic and athletic history. I am not offended by the 'salute' to the now defunct Lincoln High; I get it. It is tough for those who once walked the hallways and lived for their school not to be able to visit those memory lanes once again; just as it is difficult for this seventy-five year East St. Louisian who is denied a stroll down his hometown landmarks.

Before the Flyers departed Decatur, I spoke to their team members and complimented them on their fine play and the class manner in which they handled themselves while in Decatur. Three East St. Louis players' mothers approached me before leaving the gym and asked if I was from East Side. I told them that I was born and raised in the river city and lived in Washington Park, which one lady excitedly proclaimed, "I live on Adelaide Street in 'The Park.' She could not believe it when I told her my home was one block over from her street on Rosemont. When I described the 'corner' house on Rosemont & Kingshighway, she said, "Oh, my God, the house with that porthole in the front-porch wall; that's the nicest house in Washington Park!" My Dad built that house, himself, in 1950; I lived there until I left for college in 1957 and then for a brief time with my young wife in 1961.

This past Saturday at a high school basketball gymnasium, I was presented a kinda 'full-circle' moment...I count it a 'blessing.'