Join Me or Move Aside !!

Our Granite City basketball coaching son, Steve is deeply involved and committed to a current project that is very much a part of Granite City's history. Let me state first and foremost that Granite City was always anchored in a wonderful hard-working blue-collar people. The employees of Granite City Steel company and other supportive industries continue to demonstrate that great American work-ethic pride.
 Okay, the Granite City historical project moving forward is a Hollywood motion picture version of the 1940 Granite City high school's boys state basketball championship journey. The story centers around the basketball-talent contribution to that team coming from a West Side Granite-group of Armenian immigrants who were not totally assimilated into the Granite City mainstream.  Our son, Steve is doing much 'footwork' for the film's producer as he identifies vintage gymnasiums in the Metro-East area for filming and develops promotions for the movie during Granite City's 2014-15 high school basketball season.


Naturally, there are some local folks who resent a 'telling' of any story depicting Granite City as ever having prejudices or discrimination. The reality is Granite City is like any other corner of the globe, prejudicial attitudes are always lurking. I recall as an East St. Louis youngster (1950's) when Granite City folks did not tolerate 'blacks' in their city-limits after 9:00 P.M. I also recall sections of East St. Louis that embraced the same anti-black discrimination...dammit; own It!!


The truth is there are some folks who just enjoy positioning themselves as 'again-ners.' I remember one old-boy on the Grace Methodist Church board in Washington Park (East St. Louis) in 1951. This fella opposed every thing and was loud with his opinions. Once I heard several church members discussing the need for a new chandelier in the stairwell. This gent raised opposition claiming that "We don't need no chandelier; what we need is more light on the basement steps."
Through the years, I have met my share of opposition. Perhaps no moment is more motivating than that moment when one opposes saying, 'You can't do that or That can't be done.'


When my son recently told me of some of the knit-picking opposition to the movie, which will star, William Hurt and Shirley McLaine, I told him, "Push on and never let the nay saying bastards get you down."

What Have They Done To My School?

A true and trusted friend who is also a professional provider, often tells me that I go overboard with education-teaching  'rants.' Perhaps he is correct, however, I would ask him if at any time this week did an individual come to him for service and threaten to slap him? One of my family members, who teaches, was the target of such a physical threat. Given the sick societal climate, I find this worthy of a rant; permission not required.


A quick comparison of the public schools (then & now) perhaps lends light to reasons for some problems. I went through the public school system in the 1940's and 1950's; that's approximately sixty-years ago. What's changed? Glad you asked? I walked to my grade school and rode the city bus to my high school. The only time I got on a (yellow) school bus was to go on a field trip or athletic event. Today most children are picked up just steps from their front door. I took a brown bag lunch or ate the cafeteria lady's 'choice.' No complaints were entertained. I understood the parameters and corporal punishment application. All neighborhood parents supported teachers back then. The only service people supported today are military and firemen.


The gym teachers made us do activities that caused us to sweat. Today's physical education teachers know-better! Come to recall, not many fat kids in my grade school class photos. Upon arriving at my school, back-in-the-day, I went to either a cloak room or locker; my grandchildren today are required to pass through metal detectors. Teachers were once the hall monitors during moments children were in hallways; today those teachers rely on 'back-up' from one or more uniformed (police) security officers.


My school system offered courses that prepared kids to graduate and enter either college or the work force. Today's public school's educational philosophy ignores marketable skills' development because we have some crazy-ass notion that 'No Child' should be left behind regardless of his behavior or unwillingness to cooperate and learn, in fact, we think THAT kid should take the necessary high school courses to enter college.


Only the private schools, today, can dismiss a student from school because of refusal to follow simple rules. The public schools must hold hearings and negotiate a maze of paper work before removing a student from school.


My grade school had monthly fire drills; my grade school neighbor kid tells me they have gun-shooting intruder drills twice a month...I don't think twice a month is enough!


God forbid a community from 'passing' a school tax vote...just hold those underfunded teachers accountable for those turd-blossoms dumped at the public school door steps at age five. Many parents are morons; they expect teachers to 'make chicken-salad out-of-chicken-feathers.' I cleaned that saying UP a bit for you better souls.

Somethings Best Enjoyed Alone

I was a confident athlete and in my professional coaching career, I was likewise a confident mentor. I know this because I had no other options as a boy growing up in Mel Roustio Sr's home. My father was a stickler on me demonstrating humility, cooperation, teamwork and hustle at all times. He would compliment me but stop short of 'praise.' I suppose he had some notion that my behavior and attitude reflected upon his name. I got it and I got it at about age 10. My father was always pointing out areas in which I could improve or contribute more. I recall once when I scored 25 points in a high school basketball game and got up early the next morning before my Dad left for work...I thought I could soak-in some accolades from my hero. He said, "You shot the ball pretty good last night but you could do a lot more to help your team in the rebounding department." It was like that always...I got it!


When I coached my son, I was careful to not stroke his ego too much; actually, I was harder on him than other players.
 As a grandfather, I never sit near others at the grandchildren sporting activities. I am simply uninterested in what others have to say about the game or my grandchild's play and I don't need to point out to others my opinions!!!


I have watched grandchildren perform at top flight levels as high school athletes, Big 10 cheerleader and collegiate players. I am proud of their respective accomplishments and I tell them. Recently, I have enjoyed grandson, Caleb Howell's baseball accomplishments at Eastern Illinois University. I share only his NCAA accomplishments with family and a few close friends. I understand that not everyone is interested and sadly some suffer jealous envy.

Shall I Be Honest?

Good day yesterday; spent some quality time with one branch of the family and some of 'their' kids. It's always nice to have our grown-married children give up time and travel to our house to share. Our children have always been good to include us and shown respect as they make those trips on special holidays and other occasions. I shall forever be grateful.  I would be quick, nevertheless, to note that as some of the grandkids get 'older' a visit to grandparents' house ain't what it use to be. Actually, the grandparent scene does not change  but teenage hormones and their accompanying social possibilities drastically change and perceived 'FUN' is altered accordingly.


Once in awhile a grandchild will give off indications that they are not particularly 'pleased' having to make the trek to the old folks quarters. I never allow such moments to 'slip-by' without commenting; after all, I wish to have a very honest and open-relationship with that particular generation. I quickly explain to the unhappy grandkid that he/she should never feel obligated to come to my house. It is wonderful to see and visit with any of the grandchildren however, when I sense an unwillingness to engage it congers up the lyrics of a song from the early 1950's;  "I got along without you before I met you gonna get along without you now." (Note: It is important that I make it perfectly clear to these kids that I am unlike their parents in so far as I don't define my life through their happiness).


The relationship-reality is: I reach out to all my grandkids with the same interest and love...the grandkids that reach back receive more attention from me; 'THAT'S LIFE.'

An Affirming Moment

Unlike other traditional-holiday acknowledgements, Memorial Day perhaps holds different meanings to American countrymen.  That meaning is impacted depending upon one's age, experiences, service to country and loss of love ones. Since we are each appointed a time to be born and a time to die, we are each destine to become a part of the recognition and celebration of 'Memorial Day.'


The young and old will attend ceremonies today. American flags will line various walkways and avenues, graves will be adorn with flowers and mementos remembrances while words of affirmation, love and appreciation for those who shared our journey and protected that journey will flow freely from our lips. We will remember. On this day, I would offer a verse from a song that I often heard my grandfather E.V. Bennett sing:




                    "Precious memories how they linger how they ever flood my soul,
                     In the stillness of the midnight precious sacred scenes unfold."


Legacy matters and the legacy of LOVE matters most.

Too Little; Too Late

My wife and I accepted a St. Louis Cardinals' game invitation from good Decatur friends who are season ticket holders. It is the second consecutive year that our friends have extended the kindness. They picked us up in their motor home at two o'clock in the afternoon and another couple was already on board as we headed to the river city, the home of baseball Heaven and the beer--wagon-pulling Clydesdale's.


The questionable weather dissipated before game time and the three couples enjoyed a pre-game dinner @ Joe Buck's before a quick Ball Park Village walk-thru and first pitch. The Arizona Diamondbacks were earnest competitors as they battled the Redbirds into the 12th inning. In the top of the 11th inning, a visiting batter fouled a pitch over the home plate backstop directly headed for this old man.
I can tell you as a lad of 10-to-17 years of age, I dreamed of catching baseballs at old Sportsman's Park the home grounds of Musial, Marion, Slaughter and other boyhood heroes. A brief opportunity appeared for me at the close of my East St. Louis high school senior baseball campaign. A local Cardinals' scout asked if I'd like to report to some rookie league...the offer was $1,500.00 and no guarantees after to summer play. I said, "No thanks" and headed to college.


Here I was some fifty-seven years removed from that moment-in-time and suddenly my opportunity to 'make a play' was at hand. I confidently reached into the air (no glove needed) and snared the souvenir ball. Within moments a nearby stadium usher approached me. He was on a mission. It appears that my shag of the mid-air ball qualifies me to receive an honorary Cardinals 'contract.'


I gave the usher my personal information and he told me that my contract will soon arrive in the mail...no mention of money.

Poppycock Politicians

 State Representative, Sue Scherer returned my telephone call late this past Tuesday evening; she is obviously attentive to her constituents. My purpose for calling the Representative was to express my disdain for Illinois House Resolution #895, which creates a committee to have hearings about the administrative 'workings' of the IHSA. The Illinois High School Association oversees the myriad of competition by-laws, tournaments, play-offs, officiating, coaching education, and eligibility factors in high school sports. Some of our elected officials believe that the IHSA is NOT transparent enough...stop and put your mind around THAT!!!


It is my belief that elected politicians do three things very well: (1) Hold fund raisers (2) vote against term limits but for raises and (3) play to various special interests groups. When I spoke with my Representative, I went directly to the point. First, my Democratic Party is 'acting' like Republicans; spending valuable time on 'Mickey Mouse' issues while 'Rome burns.'

 I quickly explained to her that I spent 39-years on the IHSA membership roll serving in several advisory capacities and as the national liaison for coaching education; all without financial compensation, I add. As I spoke with my Representative, I went beyond suggesting but 'cut' directly to the chase: if the State elected officials did their jobs half as good as the IHSA administration, the State of Illinois would be funding education, overseeing nursing homes better and financially supporting mental health facilities instead of closing them. Our State pensions would be secured and the State would pay its bills in a timely manner. If our elected officials held 'committee watch-dog hearings' on their OWN people perhaps our Governors would not end up in prison so frequently.


I find myself agreeing with Republican Representative, Bill Mitchell (Forsyth), "I looked at this as the state doesn't do very much very well, and why do some people want to take over the IHSA."


Where was the 'oversight committee' when the casino gambling monies did not fund education as the politicians told voters it would accomplish? Where was the lawmakers' committee to 'watch' and make sure that the monies taken from teachers' retirement fund for other projects was NEVER paid back???


My Grandpa E.V. Bennett said it best; "Most folks would be well served if they'd tend to their own knitting." Mind your own business and don't worry about my work!

Don't Crap Yourself !

I was sitting on the backyard swing last evening thinking about lots of things but I kept coming back to one thought; things we Americans say we wish to 'talk' about but never really do.' For starters, I offer this: As a young father with children approaching puberty, I always wanted to have that 'birds & bees' talk with the kids but actually allowed mother to engage the conversation. This does not mean that I was not interjecting opinions along the teen-journey. I recall telling the girls, "Boys will talk about love attempting to get sex whereas many girls may tease with sex as they look for love. Participants beware." I am not sure but I think that parent-child conversation is easier today.


There are two national conversation that we will never seriously engaged: (1) education and (2) racial relations.


Fixing crippled schools is a huge need across the United States. It requires shoulder-to-shoulder participation from parents, local businesses and the community at large. It begs the grass roots phenomenon, which would ultimately serve as models and subsequently move across the country causing change. This is difficult work that takes time and demands cooperation and patience. Please look back at the last sentence...difficult / takes time / cooperation / patience...our fast-moving society is in short supply of those traits.


Every time someone puts their 'bigoted-foot' in their mouth, we hear people scream and holler about the need to have a National Race Relations conversation. Actually, these outcries are some of the most disingenuous statements made aloud. I believe this to be true because it appears that most people, of all color and beliefs, are most comfortable finding fault in the 'other' group and rejecting any ownership in the problem. This 'not-me-finger-pointing-position is an inherent 'deal-breaker' to any worthwhile race-relations conversation.

Our Family Pecking Order

I share the following glimpse into my home-life for neither praise or sympathy; it's just one of my reality tidbits. I wake each morning between six and seven. Most often, toy poodle, Yodie comes downstairs with me and goes outside for morning duties. I generally write and post my blog and check out the morning television news. At eight o'clock every morning, I make breakfast and take it upstairs to my wife...that's correct, breakfast in bed for her. Most often it is cereal, juice, toast and coffee. Occasionally, I make pancakes or eggs. During breakfast, we visit and perhaps finalize the day's plans. I usually leave taking the breakfast dishes downstairs after about 30-minutes and my wife stays behind to make our bed and get dressed. This has been a matter-of-fact routine for the past sixteen years.


Yesterday morning, my wife came downstairs at about 9:30 AM and busied herself in the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen to find her making a scrambled egg. I said, "Didn't you have enough breakfast?" She responded, "This egg is NOT for me, it's for Yodie."


That's all I have to say about that; you readers may conclude whatever!

I Wish For You My Moccasins

I have always considered myself fortunate in family-relationships. I never had any fussing or ill-will between my own family or in-laws. My interaction and communication with my parents and grandparents was loving and frequent. Similarly, I have good relationships with my two brothers and their families. Likewise solid relationships were always there with my wife's family. I told you that I was fortunate in family matters.


My adult-married children and their spouses have always had great relationships with my wife and me. Our married kids frequently telephone us and visit. They have invited us on vacations. Our kids telephone most every day and sometimes more. The two oldest grandchildren, Amanda and Lindsay telephone Nana and Boompa often and I suspect if we stick around awhile, some of the other grandchildren will grow to that wonderful stage in life when they also figure out the sun does not pop out of their gluteus maximus each morning to give light to the world but 'relationships' run on two-way streets...they will come home; most of us do...my heart aches for those who know not this kind of mutual family love, enjoyment and relationships.
I am fortunate, lucky and blessed.

'It Is What It Is !'

I think that I should clear the air with you 'faithful' blog readers who I am sure at times find my gibber-jabber about the younger generation and their apparent narcissistic self-centered-spoiled ways somewhat repetitive. Come now, some of you are convinced the I am a cynical old-fart!! I will yield to the 'old-fart' handle but hold off a bit on this cynicism concerning the 'Me Generation' appearing in my rear view mirror.


This 'me-me-me' attitude even shows up in our pro sports. A few nights ago, I was watching my beloved St. Louis Cardinals beating the Atlanta 'Braves' by a score of 6-to-1 as the Braves came to bat in the bottom of the eighth inning. Atlanta's first hitter grounded out to the second baseman on the first pitch he saw. The next hitter followed suit grounding out to the second baseman on the first pitch to him. The kind of baseball that I just chronicled is an example of why I do NOT believe that people 'in Heaven' can see what we are doing down here on planet earth; because, if they could all my baseball managers and coaches of yesteryear would be regurgitating on the golden pavements of Glory.


It once was 'good' baseball (when your baseball team is trailing by five runs in the final two innings) for your hitters to accept the fact that...YOU NEED BASE RUNNERS therefore your hitters don't swing at any pitch until they have one strike ON THEM...it just may happen that the pitcher might walk a batter or two and suddenly the tide might turn with a rally; that would be the team approach. Today, little junior grew up with his parents blowing smoke in his rear and the little self-centered turd-blossom got the notion that the game was all about HIS performance; not the team's success. When today's professional players make more money than managers and have agents assuming the smoke blowing job...this is the kind of major  league baseball we get. Excuse me while I rid my nauseous feeling.

'Just Not True'

I received one of those two-part emails last week and then again yesterday. You know the email type; part #1 contains some not so subliminal propaganda crap with a part #2 requirement for me to 'forward' the garbage if I don't wish to have ten years of bad luck or be perceived as NOT loving Jesus. Don't you just love others 'putting' you in a defined box!?.


I often had the debate with my mother, God rest her soul, that she should not believe everything she hears on Fox News or out of Rush Limbaugh's humble mouth. I refuse to drink all the Kool-Aid poured out over the MSNBC airways regardless of what some may believe. It used to be that propaganda came in fliers or through the media airways; now the vast and ever-expanding social media network has half-truths flying around the world in a heart beat.
Okay, here is the most recent Obama put-down-propaganda..."Obama said the United States is no longer a Christian Nation." Therefore, sports' fans, let's all pass this bit of information around to family and friends and dadgumit when 200 million Americans get the message, we can take back America for Godly Christians.
Before you all jump at the send button...fact-check: Obama said: "We are no longer JUST a Christian Nation. We are a Nation of many faiths."


This stuff is not just an error...it is intentional and I might add, very un-Christian-like 'false-witness!'

Silence Ain't Always Golden

Sitting on the backyard swing a few nights ago, I looked around and could 'see' nobody else outside. People don't sit outside on swings or porches as in those pre-air conditioned days gone bye. Consequently, we don't neighbor-socialize very often. Heavens sakes, I don't have a clue what occupations live nearby and I don't know if anyone recently had gall-bladder surgery.


I suspect today's fascination with 'inside' comforts and electronics deprives youngsters from developing the art of catching lightning bugs, knowing how to use a fly-swatter or taking turns on a homemade ice cream making-crank-handle. It has been many years since hearing kids yell, "1-2-3 on so-and-so" as they play hide and seek. Perhaps that will soon change because a young family recently moved into the house next door and I count four young children...I hope the sounds of yesteryear return.

Oh, MY - MY !

"S--- Happens."  Look about and note that a lot of 'stuff is happening.' We have a billionaire NBA owner accused of racist comments and his league-owner-colleagues intend to force him to sell his team while the owner's estranged wife claims she intends to keep her 'part-ownership.' Then we have mental giants, i.e., LeBron James weighing-in suggesting that he has something profound to add to this  obviously complicated legal issue. While this very sad scenario plays out, one can turn on Comedy Central most  nights and find an African-American comedian making one racist remark after another to the laughter and applause of small minded 'black and white' folks. 'S--- Happens and S--- Cuts Both Ways.'


We note some States cannot execute death row criminals without botching the process thus causing incredible human suffering while dying. Many of the capital punishment advocates shrug their shoulders at these sick sights and continue to cry foul over any reason for a woman choosing abortion.


The legal fighting and wrangling regarding civil-rights of homosexual couples remains unresolved and  the St. Louis 'Rams' of the NFL draft an openly 'gay' football player who will be cheered for doing his job on the field of play but denied aspects of equality on the 'field-of-life.'
Immigration remains unresolved as one American faction leans towards amnesty and the  opposition would favor deportation. In the meantime no compromise...instead there seems to be a desire of some to revisit a new health care law or make sugar laced items unavailable in public schools as if this message will translate into American homes where youngsters will continue to chow-down.


Benghazi remains a political football and a good fundraiser platform for the GOP. Of course, the main focus of our elected officials will continue to be providing a good nest egg for themselves. There will continue to be criticism of the party-in-power and never a cooperation to compromise with the intent to improve the nest-egg for the masses.


A lot of 'stuff happens'  and unfortunately much that happens divides us as a Nation.


As Ray Charles would shout, "YES INDEED!"

Oh, My Aching Back

I have osteoarthritis in my right hip and arthritis in my lower back and both knees; I am NOT complaining, I just share the condition fact of a seventy-five year old man. Why would I not have these arthritic issues given the reality of my athletic participation history three spinal surgeries and a continuation of a cardiovascular walking program. Seems that we often times put ourselves between the rock and hard place as we 'buy' one health-problem circumstance attempting to avoid a pending DNA health-problem possibility.


I am not a pill chaser but occasionally, I have paid attention to the many pain-medication offerings, which are repeatedly advertised on television. I am aware that most family doctors report that about 30% of the prescription they write are patient-requested, I entertain the temptation. Please know that physicians, attorneys and the pharmaceutical advertisements are still new to this old boy; this type of money seeking greed was unprofessional to my parent's generation and my youth.


Since daily arthritic pain is an attention-getter, I have begun jotting down some of the 'new' pills to address the problem. I believe eventually, my choice will be determined by the process of elimination of the number of side-affects.


The first drug I checked-out warned that I could experience difficulty breathing or 'in rare instances death occurs. A second pill comes with the a caution that I may experience depression with occasional nose bleeds, and thoughts of suicide. Then there is another high-powered sure-cure pill that increases body weight and causes an insatiable appetite for crunchy peanut-butter and Captain Crunch cereal.


I must stop now so that I can get my 40-minute walk in before the rain comes. I'll grab a couple of Tylenol upon my return.

Honor, Respect & Promise

Most media outlets picked up on NBA player, Kevin Durant's 25-minute MVP award acceptance speech much of which turned into a salute to the sacrifices made by his 'Mom'. Obviously, Durant's accolades are special for a special talent but his humility and praise for his mother were more important to him in the moment. Good for a son and good for a mother.


The thought occurs to me that most every individual should take note this Mother's Day Sunday and steal Durant's script; one need not be a super star to pause and give thanks to the lady (mother) who did the most for you in life's journey. My maternal grandmother, Mammy was always preaching that Bible verse Ephesians 6:2: "Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and mother (which is the first commandment with a promise) so that it may be well with you, and that you may live long on the earth."


Truth be told, I cannot count the times each day that I 'think:' 'Oh, I need to telephone Mom.' She died a year and a half ago. I wonder if I will die before that 'urge' to call her dies.


I find myself constantly preaching at my grandkids to 'respect and honor' their parents, especially their mothers because I believe our mothers are mankind's greatest gift. Mammy's message sunk-in with me; I think this is NOT the case with my grandchildren...perhaps I am just a poor preacher.


I will take special note of my wife's motherhood sacrifices this Sunday and then pick a private moment to give my thanks to the Lord for my mother... as I allow my thoughts to 'fly across the years' and recall those childhood memories.


Thanks, Mammy.

A Lifetime Scar

I recall my 'grade school' report card was a bi-fold, salmon colored card. The front of the card had official looking headings, which indicated the school district and various administrators.  On the back of the card there was four lines upon which a parent or guardian was required to affix a signature thus indicating they had 'read' the child's progress report for each quarter. Of course, the 'inside' two pages disclosed what it was all about; how is the kid doing in school effort and grades. On the inside right-hand side was a listing of subjects with the teacher's grade alongside. Whoa is me if you received an "F'" in a subject...THAT grade would appear in bright RED ink! You could usually tell who got one or more of those dreadful RED F's because that student quickly tucked the report card inside a book or folder. In recent years, I read where some coalition (committee) of parents, psychologists and students decided the 'red' colored 'F' was too harsh for a youngster's psyche therefore many school district across the Nation stopped giving  'colored' grades and some school districts even dropped the 'F' letter as a grade. I suppose this approach makes kids and parents feel better about underachieving.


 I don't recall ever being that upset with the grades given on the right hand side but I am still angry about one particular 'check-mark' that my teachers gave appearing (every quarter) on the left hand side. THAT check mark is still stuck in my craw. Student Does NOT use time to good advantages.  I had that 'check mark' every quarter the entire eight year journey through elementary school; does not use time to good advantage. This grading experience is likely the reason for me developing irrational conspiracies beliefs. I truly believe that all my grade school teachers got together and agreed to check 'Melvin's 'lazy-box.'


Today, I am a retired old fella and who cannot embrace these relaxing years because I suspect my neighbors are talking about me not staying busy enough. You would think in this day and age,  I could bring litigation against somebody or at the very least get on The Dr. Phil Show to share my story and perhaps have Phil foot-the-cost for rehab-therapy.

It Just Happened

I have always enjoyed warm weather. Actually, I enjoy 'hot' weather. I suppose growing up in the Mississippi river town, East St. Louis in pre-air conditioned 1940's / '50's and playing my sandlot baseball games what else would you do but love the moments in the humid-scorching sun.


Yesterday, I found myself sweating in the 80-plus degree temperatures in Decatur and doing what I do best, getting dirty in God's earth planting my vegetable garden. After about four hours tilling, digging, planting, staking and watering, I thought it would do my heart some good to engage my normal 40-minute walk. Returning from the walk, I sat down on the patio and attempting to ignore the aggravating arthritic lower back pain and general stiffness. My body fatigue was greater than usual and I have come to expect such moments in these advanced years. Does not take much physical exertion now days for me to 'hit-the-wall.' What I did not anticipate was an emotional experience that would come quickly and uninvited.


I shall preface this sharing with my own theory and leave you, the reader, to accept or reject the premise. I believe the combination of old-age sentimentality, physical aches and a song came together for a 'perfect storm.'  Here's what happened:
I sat down at the patio table and indulge my one daily beer. Sweat was running from my brow. The CD player switched songs and suddenly the lyrics of the 1950-something song, 'Oh, My Papa' sung by Eddie Fisher blared over the outside speakers. As I listened to the words, I could feel my eyes beginning to swell with warm-tears and it seemed too easy to let my emotional guard down. The tears had their way as they mixed with perspiration to flow down my face.
No one was nearby to see me and until I 'clicked' the publish button on my computer this morning...no one knew of the old man's moment. It's okay and I'm okay. You may wish to put this ONE in your memory-recall file.

You Are The GREATEST

As with many things, hindsight is 20-20; I suppose I could say that I saw it coming but that would be a stretch. Okay, I recall my Washington Park (East St. Louis) elementary teacher giving-out those green, red and gold stars to we rag-tag second graders back in 1946, but who-da thunk it would be a forerunner to today's out-of-control pseudo extrinsic awards giveaways??? Before I delve into this aspect of awards motivation, let's connect the stickers!


My youth experience was two motivation-rails: First, I could always count on my mother for those warm cozy hugs and my father's 'one-sentence charges.' Dad would tell me at the start of a school year, "Boy, pay attention to your teacher and don't cause me to miss work and have to go to the school house."  "If a job is worth doing it's worth doing well."  "Yours is not to reason why yours is but to do or die." "Any thing after mid-night is shallow hours; be home before that." Dad was not big on 'atta boy' praise but he was easy to read when he was pleased and not pleased; therein was enough motivation for me and my younger brother, Tom; you simply wanted to please your parents.


Over the many years teaching, coaching and parenting/grand-parenting, I believe it is fair to say that I have observed youth and 'what' appears to motivate their behavior. We adults have 'conditioned' the youngsters; they need recognition and rewards. We give all kinds of trophies, medals and certificates. In academics, activities and sports; from pre-school through college, we come to expect some award for 'just doing it.' That's right, I DID say college. Just recently, I had a college age grandkid tell me that in one of his college courses, a student can receive extra-credit points, called, 'professional points' if they don't use their cell phone but pay attention to the professor during class. Why back in Ms. Spaheart's Charles L. Manner's third grade class, I probably would have never gotten a paddle-swat for talking in class had the teacher offered 'professional credit-points for 'doing-the-right-thing!'


One other thought: Can you football fans imagine the  Chicago 'Bears' great linebacker, Dick Butkus needing 'stickers' on his helmet.




Thanks for reading my blog without receiving a smiley face.

Ugly Within Us All

Racism: The belief that race accounts for differences in character or ability and that a particular race is superior to others.


Recently, Donald Sterling, LA 'Clippers' NBA basketball team owner asked his girlfriend/confidant/employee (not sure of her status); "Don't bring your 'Black' friends to my (LA Clippers') games." His request is an obvious act of discrimination based upon his racist-bigoted-prejudices.


Several years ago, Larry Bird (White basketball player) led the Boston 'Celtics' versus the Detroit 'Pistons' team led by (Black basketball players) Isiah Thomas and Dennis Rodman. After a tough defeat suffered by Detroit in game six of the NBA Finals, Rodman said, "If Bird was a Black player, he would just be another good guy." The inference suggesting that Bird's  reputation as a great basketball player was perpetuated by the 'white media.' Thomas publicly agreed with Rodman's racist statement.


It is apparent to me that the ONE thing 'whites' and 'blacks; do share in common is our ability to ignore that part of MLK's dream of  one day having folks judged by the content of character and ability without interjecting our deep-seeded ethnocentric attitudes, which too often surface with ugly racist statements.  Shame on us!

Another North / South Thing

Since the year 1982, there have been nearly fifty 'botched' prison executions in the United States. These execution 'misfires' include every thing from lengthy convulsions of inmates strapped to gurneys to burning flesh before the body succumbs. Personally, I am not an advocate for capital punishment but I respect the States' Rights of 32 American States to have capital punishment. Of course, a quick look at States having and NOT having capital punishment reveals similar lines familiar to Civil War' maps. I suppose that my anti-capital punishment attitude is prompted by the constant Biblical cautionary notes about embracing revenge and taking another life.


My greater anger about capital punishment is the inability of these 'southern thinkers' (States) to terminate a man's life in some human manner, if that logic makes any sense at all!! That said, instead of placing capital punishment convicts on death row for years and years causing great anxiety and tremendous costs, why not sentence those offenders to live in the streets of New Orleans, Detroit or St. Louis, which are the top three homicide cities in America. In light of the NRA having its way with gun control laws in American it would seem that the chances are better for a 'civil' execution occurring in the gang-infested neighborhoods of our country as opposed to a federal prison.

Trusting Old Folks?

My wife and I were recently babysitting some Barrington, Illinois grandkids. Barrington would be in the Chicago Northwest Suburbs. Actually, we were really babysitting one of seven children all of whom were begotten by our oldest daughter and our first son in-law. The six older kids are most capable handling their business. The eldest of their children is 'out' on her own, teaching while two other kids are attending college and three are still on various steps of the public school escalator. I truly believe my wife and I are recruited for this job to cook meals, serve as taxi and provide hoorays.


I am somewhat surprised that we were asked to do this baby-watching thing again. The last time we assumed the Barrington  responsibility, we 'lost' the then 2 year old... relax, we found her; actually, she 'suddenly showed-up.' What happened that eventful day unfolded this way: The older siblings left for school one morning and my wife and I had been preoccupied when we look at one another and simultaneously asked, "Where's Ashlyn?" We  then hit the panic button when realizing that one door to the 22-room home was open. We both ran wildly about the large  home with a five car garage and lower-level swimming pool.  I must also tell you that there is a lake within 100 yards...talk about a mental-paralysis moment!!


After about 8-to-10 minutes scurrying from room-to-room, I told my wife, "Telephone the police." Two police officers showed up promptly and the inside search continued with one officer while the second officer began an outside 'look.' My wife was beside herself and I was certain I would have a stroke at any moment!


After about 18 minutes of the futile exercise, Ashlyn appeared at the top of a long winding staircase where she smiled and waved at her grandparents and officer below. She had been hiding from us; unwilling to answer and obviously enjoying her relocating from room-to-room during the little hide and seek game. I note this visit we had three different older siblings assigned to stay home-from-school to help entertain the three-year old; actually, I think each older kid was told to 'keep and eye on the old folks.'


 I am convinced, when grandparents hit their mid-seventies, it's a crap shoot for  their children to ask them to babysit!! I shall graciously embrace and accept that babysitting job 'rejection' day.