Last week driving home from a church meeting, I suppose I was not traveling fast enough for the fella-driver behind me because he passed me, honked and gave me the finger. I wondered, what's your problem? Later that evening I was watching the World Series baseball game when a Houston player made a racist gesture towards a Los Angeles pitcher of Asian heritage by contorting his own eyes at a 'slanting' position. Again, I wondered, what's your problem?
Throughout my intense sports participation-coaching journey, I've noticed the 'athlete posturing' traverse from projecting gracious sportsmanship humility to obnoxious bravado-taunting. It's no longer good enough to be victorious but we now must sooth some inner need to ease a deep angry disposition by humiliating those we defeated and 'flipping-off' other motorists.
Physical encounters by adults have been reported at youth sporting events and fan behavior at sporting events is deteriorating. Examples: (1) a Catholic high school student section chants at their opponent, which is largely comprised of Jewish students, "You killed Jesus, You killed Jesus; (2) a suburban high school student body chants at the inner-city opponent, "Food Stamps, Food Stamps; (3) another school playing a high school with many Asian and Hispanic students begin chanting, "Donald Trump, Build That Wall; Donald Trump, Build That Wall."
And we Americans get our noses out of joint debating a protest gesture by Pro-athletes who peacefully kneel during our National Anthem??? We need a revisit to those Judea-Christian values we often pontificate. We surely are a phony group!
And amidst it all, the President of the 'United' States fails to denounce or call out a foreign adversary for attacking our 'free democracy' or denounce bigoted 'White Nationalist' and neo-Nazis demonstrating in our nation's streets. Instead of embracing with uplifting dialogue, this Leader of the 'free world' engages in some of the most hateful and divisive rhetoric in history.
We need and we must call upon our better Angels.
(Touch)Calling All Angels
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Monday, October 30, 2017
Do Life Big!
As an adolescent, I recall on rare occasions my mother taking me to see a doctor. The reason was usually a sore throat or attention to some injury. Before those years, I vividly remember the family doctor making a house call if asked. During my teenage years, I needed that annual sports' physical examination and as for seeing a doctor other wise that was infrequent. I've been blessed throughout life and especially those young adult years; seldom did I need a doctor's appointment.
Today, I have a frequent patient-doctor professional interaction that I'm beginning to embrace as 'social time' with my family physician, a gastroenterologist, a dentist, a dermatologist, ophthalmologist and a podiatrist. This doctors' visit frequency speaks to the reality of body parts wearing out or becoming vulnerable...its called aging.
We all know that young teens look at life as their oyster and perceive personal engagement as unending. When the doctor patient interaction intensifies, we are forced to consider an end game. And this mind-altering game is why I blog this day. I must periodically remind myself of these words attributed to the philosopher, Horace Kellan:
There are those who guide their lives by the fear of death.
There are those who guide their lives by the joy of life.
The former live dying; the latter die living.
When I die, I intend to die living.
I'd like to share more this morning but I must shave and shower. I have an early morning doctor's appointment. Enjoy!
(Touch)Do Life Big
Today, I have a frequent patient-doctor professional interaction that I'm beginning to embrace as 'social time' with my family physician, a gastroenterologist, a dentist, a dermatologist, ophthalmologist and a podiatrist. This doctors' visit frequency speaks to the reality of body parts wearing out or becoming vulnerable...its called aging.
We all know that young teens look at life as their oyster and perceive personal engagement as unending. When the doctor patient interaction intensifies, we are forced to consider an end game. And this mind-altering game is why I blog this day. I must periodically remind myself of these words attributed to the philosopher, Horace Kellan:
There are those who guide their lives by the fear of death.
There are those who guide their lives by the joy of life.
The former live dying; the latter die living.
When I die, I intend to die living.
I'd like to share more this morning but I must shave and shower. I have an early morning doctor's appointment. Enjoy!
(Touch)Do Life Big
Sunday, October 29, 2017
It's What I've Heard
Studying various singing artists over the years, I've heard the phrase, 'a singer's singer.' I suppose the reference suggests some unusually-rich quality of voice and a professional style, which grabs the deeper appreciation of other professionals who are most qualified to endorse.
The artists who readily come to my mind are Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Jackie Wilson, Rosemary Clooney, Celine Dion, Barbara Streisand and Carly Simon.
Do you have a favorite male or female 'singers' singer?'
(Touch)Moonlight Serenade
The artists who readily come to my mind are Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Jackie Wilson, Rosemary Clooney, Celine Dion, Barbara Streisand and Carly Simon.
Do you have a favorite male or female 'singers' singer?'
(Touch)Moonlight Serenade
Friday, October 27, 2017
He Gave Us a 'Thrill'
Traversing the teenage experience in the mid-1950's, one could not help but be impacted by Antoine Dominique Domino, Jr.
"Fats" Domino had eleven Top 10 rock & roll hits during that time period 1955-60, and was second only in total record sales to Elvis. Should you still doubt the largeness of "Fats," consider that some twenty years later the television sitcom 'Happy Days' staring, Ron Howard (Richie Cunningham) frequently had Richie singing "Fats" Domino's staple song, 'Blueberry Hill' to anchor the flavor-of-the-fifties.
I suppose for my contemporaries (1956) 'Blueberry Hill' could have been that first goodnight kiss at her front door or perhaps a sweet moment at one of those infamous young-teenage house-party games; maybe the thrill was a more closely acquainted moment at the local Drive Inn Theater. In any event when "Fats" Domino banged out those first chords and began to sing, "I found my thrill......," we ALL related!
Antoine Dominique "Fats" Domino, Jr. died this week at age 89. The chubby little black boy who dropped from elementary school taught himself to play the piano and began singing in bars at the age of 14. He was married to the same woman with whom he fathered eight children for sixty years. His worth was nearly ten million dollars at his death. He never turned his back on his 9th ward New Orleans folks.
Thanks for the carefree memory lane music, "Fats." Say hello to Sam, Jackie and Chuck.
(Touch)
Thrill
"Fats" Domino had eleven Top 10 rock & roll hits during that time period 1955-60, and was second only in total record sales to Elvis. Should you still doubt the largeness of "Fats," consider that some twenty years later the television sitcom 'Happy Days' staring, Ron Howard (Richie Cunningham) frequently had Richie singing "Fats" Domino's staple song, 'Blueberry Hill' to anchor the flavor-of-the-fifties.
I suppose for my contemporaries (1956) 'Blueberry Hill' could have been that first goodnight kiss at her front door or perhaps a sweet moment at one of those infamous young-teenage house-party games; maybe the thrill was a more closely acquainted moment at the local Drive Inn Theater. In any event when "Fats" Domino banged out those first chords and began to sing, "I found my thrill......," we ALL related!
Antoine Dominique "Fats" Domino, Jr. died this week at age 89. The chubby little black boy who dropped from elementary school taught himself to play the piano and began singing in bars at the age of 14. He was married to the same woman with whom he fathered eight children for sixty years. His worth was nearly ten million dollars at his death. He never turned his back on his 9th ward New Orleans folks.
Thanks for the carefree memory lane music, "Fats." Say hello to Sam, Jackie and Chuck.
(Touch)
Thrill
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Save Me From Potlucks
I suppose most churches embrace those 'potluck-dinner' social gatherings. I can confirm through a seventy-eight year journey with the John Wesley folks that this Methodist fella has attended his fair share of 'Potlucks.' Let it be known that I am NOT a fan of 'potlucks' and I have never been a fan of 'potlucks.' The initial turn off is anticipating an eating experience anchored to some degree in 'luck!'
I understand that eating foods grown, harvested, packaged and/prepared by others is a crap shoot. Example: I enjoy eating shrimp when wintering in Florida because that fish is fresh from Gulf waters. I cringe when buying shrimp at a mid-west marketplace. That shrimp is a product of some Asian country and I don't know about their shrimp breeding location in reference to their livestock and human waste disposals.
Just so you don't get the impression that I'm picking on Asian countries, I refuse to eat the famous Central Illinois homemade soup known as 'Burgoo.' My apologies to the Franklin and Arenzville, Illinois 'Burgoo Boys.' If you're unfamiliar with 'Burgoo,' let me explain as I understand the recipe. The burgoo soup is brewed in large kettles over open fire out-of-doors usually throughout the night by rural fellas who enjoy shooting critters, skinning their prey and tossing meat chunks about with various veggies, spices and God only knows what else. Kettle stirrers are known to enjoy a few beers during their night-long vigil, which likely emboldens Recipe creativity. The next day that Burgoo is sold by the gallons to folks who swear by the deliciousness of the product...I'll pass and take my chances at the Casino buffet.
Folks, there's a bit of Hillbilly background in most of us. I really suspect that back in the early days of immigrants coming to America, they were processed through Ellis Island and then sent to Kentucky and Tennessee before venturing into other parts of America. That said, my Bluegrass State ancestors evolved from outdoor road-kill-kettle-cooking and outhouse rest stops. I now have indoor conveniences and an oven.
(Touch)
Pass The Biscuits
I understand that eating foods grown, harvested, packaged and/prepared by others is a crap shoot. Example: I enjoy eating shrimp when wintering in Florida because that fish is fresh from Gulf waters. I cringe when buying shrimp at a mid-west marketplace. That shrimp is a product of some Asian country and I don't know about their shrimp breeding location in reference to their livestock and human waste disposals.
Just so you don't get the impression that I'm picking on Asian countries, I refuse to eat the famous Central Illinois homemade soup known as 'Burgoo.' My apologies to the Franklin and Arenzville, Illinois 'Burgoo Boys.' If you're unfamiliar with 'Burgoo,' let me explain as I understand the recipe. The burgoo soup is brewed in large kettles over open fire out-of-doors usually throughout the night by rural fellas who enjoy shooting critters, skinning their prey and tossing meat chunks about with various veggies, spices and God only knows what else. Kettle stirrers are known to enjoy a few beers during their night-long vigil, which likely emboldens Recipe creativity. The next day that Burgoo is sold by the gallons to folks who swear by the deliciousness of the product...I'll pass and take my chances at the Casino buffet.
Folks, there's a bit of Hillbilly background in most of us. I really suspect that back in the early days of immigrants coming to America, they were processed through Ellis Island and then sent to Kentucky and Tennessee before venturing into other parts of America. That said, my Bluegrass State ancestors evolved from outdoor road-kill-kettle-cooking and outhouse rest stops. I now have indoor conveniences and an oven.
(Touch)
Pass The Biscuits
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Good luck with that thinking, Billy.
I just saw a snippet of Bill O'Reilly's podcast where he told an interviewer, "I'm mad at God." Perhaps you wonder why a staunch right-wing nut job, i.e., O'Reilly, the evangelicals' wonder boy is angry with his Creator? Well, Bill thinks that God let him down by allowing evil-mean people to fabricate allegations of him being some kind of a sexual predator. Never mind that O'Reilly has paid out millions of settlement dollars to make his alledge transgressions disappear! Some how some way O'Reilly is faultless but God is not...and therefore Bill is pissed.
Stop and sit down before you continue reading. Bill also told the interviewer, "If I die tomorrow and meet God, I'm going to ask Him why He let this happen to me and my children. I'm mad at God." Wow! I was taught that my God is loving and forgiving as demonstrated in His gift of His Son's death on the cross for our sins. It was also instilled in me to be reverent toward God i.e., God fearing.
I will give O'Reilly one thing...he is the most arrogant and egotistical ass I've ever known. Just consider two things: (1) He's obviously convinced he's going to heaven and (2) he has the audacity to believe when he arrives at those pearly gates, he's the one asking the questions.
(Touch)
Good Luck, Bill
Stop and sit down before you continue reading. Bill also told the interviewer, "If I die tomorrow and meet God, I'm going to ask Him why He let this happen to me and my children. I'm mad at God." Wow! I was taught that my God is loving and forgiving as demonstrated in His gift of His Son's death on the cross for our sins. It was also instilled in me to be reverent toward God i.e., God fearing.
I will give O'Reilly one thing...he is the most arrogant and egotistical ass I've ever known. Just consider two things: (1) He's obviously convinced he's going to heaven and (2) he has the audacity to believe when he arrives at those pearly gates, he's the one asking the questions.
(Touch)
Good Luck, Bill
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Stunned? Hardly!
Of the many things we Americans disagree about these days, surely we can agree that the higher our expectations of people the greater is the potential for disappointment. Sports fans and certainly team owners know this when huge contracts are extended to a name player who then flops! This said and
accepted, I therefore suggest we pray for the best and anticipate the worst.
In recent days the word 'stunned' has been bantered about as users attempt to express some horrifying surprise on the heels of another's action. I say 'nonsense.' Don't try to sell me YOUR disappointment. At a recent press conference, White House Chief of Staff, General John Kelly used the word 'stunned' frequently has he spoke about Congresswoman Fredrica Wilson's remarks about President Trump's condolence words to a fallen soldier's widow. Certainly, there may be wiggle room for debate on what the President said and meant, however there was no maybes about Kelly being "stunned" by Wilson remarks in a speech two years ago because Kelly misrepresented Wilson's word. In fact he told a 'fib.'
Headline news a few days ago: "Senators 'stunned' to learn America has 1,000 troops in Niger."
I was disappointed by President Clinton's behavior with a White House intern. I was disappointed with Candidate Trump's words about his desires to 'touch' women in a sexual assault manner. I am disappointed with elected officials withholding from me health insurance they have. I am disappointed a military General lying about his connections with the Russian government. I am disappointed that elected officials waste tax payers' money in private desires. My disappointment list could go on and on but I shall stop and simply say, Whereas I am disappointed, I am NOT stunned.
I hope and pray daily that our elected leaders would help our nation's people, HOWEVER I anticipate that they will not.
(Touch)
Tell The Truth
accepted, I therefore suggest we pray for the best and anticipate the worst.
In recent days the word 'stunned' has been bantered about as users attempt to express some horrifying surprise on the heels of another's action. I say 'nonsense.' Don't try to sell me YOUR disappointment. At a recent press conference, White House Chief of Staff, General John Kelly used the word 'stunned' frequently has he spoke about Congresswoman Fredrica Wilson's remarks about President Trump's condolence words to a fallen soldier's widow. Certainly, there may be wiggle room for debate on what the President said and meant, however there was no maybes about Kelly being "stunned" by Wilson remarks in a speech two years ago because Kelly misrepresented Wilson's word. In fact he told a 'fib.'
Headline news a few days ago: "Senators 'stunned' to learn America has 1,000 troops in Niger."
I was disappointed by President Clinton's behavior with a White House intern. I was disappointed with Candidate Trump's words about his desires to 'touch' women in a sexual assault manner. I am disappointed with elected officials withholding from me health insurance they have. I am disappointed a military General lying about his connections with the Russian government. I am disappointed that elected officials waste tax payers' money in private desires. My disappointment list could go on and on but I shall stop and simply say, Whereas I am disappointed, I am NOT stunned.
I hope and pray daily that our elected leaders would help our nation's people, HOWEVER I anticipate that they will not.
(Touch)
Tell The Truth
Monday, October 23, 2017
Make sure you're wearing clean underwear!
Look, I get it. I know the ease and fallacy of pointing the finger and telling others 'how.'
I coached nearly 1,000 basketball games and watched many more; I know how easy it is to 'coach the other fella's team.' That said, I understand how easy it is for a seventy-eight year old parent to point to this generation of parents and tell them what they're doing wrong. Therefore, since most thngs I attempt these days is difficult, I'll do the aforementioned 'easy' thing and tell today's parents where they're screwing up. My words of cautionary advise come with sincere hopefulness for those in the parenting trenches. I am unapologetic with my comments.
First, if your kids don't know that a parents greatest love is NOT for them then you need to reinforce that premise. I knew my parents loved me but I knew they loved Christ and one another more than me. I learned early that when I was told to do some thing the request-directive was non-negotiable and if I failed to comply I could expect consequences. My folks understood 'my' collateral, desires and fears. If parents remove expectations and consequences they are, in fact, promoting weakness and accountability cripples. A child grows in confidence and self-worth when praise follows accomplishments. You heard me. That means keep the score of little league baseball games because in the real world there are declared winners and losers at every turn!
Parents should be unified in philosophy and resolved in a joint mission to answer this question over and over again: "Will our decision give our kid the permission to make good choices and ultimately experience personal resolve and growth...or will our parenting decision keep our child insulated from the sting of failure and allow the kid to blame others as he embraces entitlement?
Mother asked, "Are you wearing clean underwear?" Yes, mom and I understand why you asked. And my dad spoke, "Don't let your mouth overload your ass on the streets, boy and be home before 'shallow hours. Fly Right, boy. Yes, dad and I get it! The eighteen years I lived with my parents, I never paid rent, utilities or purchased food. I suppose the least I could do was accept their ground rules.
(Touch)
Straighten Up Boy!
I coached nearly 1,000 basketball games and watched many more; I know how easy it is to 'coach the other fella's team.' That said, I understand how easy it is for a seventy-eight year old parent to point to this generation of parents and tell them what they're doing wrong. Therefore, since most thngs I attempt these days is difficult, I'll do the aforementioned 'easy' thing and tell today's parents where they're screwing up. My words of cautionary advise come with sincere hopefulness for those in the parenting trenches. I am unapologetic with my comments.
First, if your kids don't know that a parents greatest love is NOT for them then you need to reinforce that premise. I knew my parents loved me but I knew they loved Christ and one another more than me. I learned early that when I was told to do some thing the request-directive was non-negotiable and if I failed to comply I could expect consequences. My folks understood 'my' collateral, desires and fears. If parents remove expectations and consequences they are, in fact, promoting weakness and accountability cripples. A child grows in confidence and self-worth when praise follows accomplishments. You heard me. That means keep the score of little league baseball games because in the real world there are declared winners and losers at every turn!
Parents should be unified in philosophy and resolved in a joint mission to answer this question over and over again: "Will our decision give our kid the permission to make good choices and ultimately experience personal resolve and growth...or will our parenting decision keep our child insulated from the sting of failure and allow the kid to blame others as he embraces entitlement?
Mother asked, "Are you wearing clean underwear?" Yes, mom and I understand why you asked. And my dad spoke, "Don't let your mouth overload your ass on the streets, boy and be home before 'shallow hours. Fly Right, boy. Yes, dad and I get it! The eighteen years I lived with my parents, I never paid rent, utilities or purchased food. I suppose the least I could do was accept their ground rules.
(Touch)
Straighten Up Boy!
Saturday, October 21, 2017
I Know What I Think...Gobbledygook!
Okay, one more run at this NFL and National Anthem flap regarding players kneeling during its playing as a form of protest over the perception of excessive police force used on minorities. I suspect the matter would still be 'sputtering' with but one person a target of blame, Colin Kaepernick had President Trump not weighed in. But he did and as often the case when Trump speaks, more shit hits the fan and stirs the emotions of his angry base.
Perhaps you (the reader) know every word to our country's anthem but I doubt that Trump does and I'll venture a guess that less than ten percent of the Sunday morning NFL tailgaters could recite the words. Beyond that, those tailgaters don't give-a-crap. If the brats and ribs are done and the beer's cold, life is GOOD...oh, and the Black guy on my team catches a few TD's after kneeling.
That said, I ask you: What percent of the American population over the age of 18 do you believe could complete the Star Spangled Banner's first stanza? 10%.....30%.....50%
Whereas The Star Spangled Banner often gives me goosebumps, personally, I would rather stand for and sing, 'America, the Beautiful.'
(Touch)
Sing OUR Song, Ray
Perhaps you (the reader) know every word to our country's anthem but I doubt that Trump does and I'll venture a guess that less than ten percent of the Sunday morning NFL tailgaters could recite the words. Beyond that, those tailgaters don't give-a-crap. If the brats and ribs are done and the beer's cold, life is GOOD...oh, and the Black guy on my team catches a few TD's after kneeling.
That said, I ask you: What percent of the American population over the age of 18 do you believe could complete the Star Spangled Banner's first stanza? 10%.....30%.....50%
Whereas The Star Spangled Banner often gives me goosebumps, personally, I would rather stand for and sing, 'America, the Beautiful.'
(Touch)
Sing OUR Song, Ray
Thursday, October 19, 2017
Can the Lap Dance be Far Behind?
Why not? Actually, pole-dance attire is no more risqué or liable to shock than two sizes-too small Speedo trucks on some swimmer or one of those 'wedgie-style' female gymnasts outfits worn doing a floor-exercise routine. Okay, I'm talking about athletes and the possibility of Olympic Games 'Pole (Dance) Exercise' routine. That's right! Pole Dancing is poised to become an International Olympic Sport in the near future.
Personally, I've never attempted a "Pole Dance Exercise' but I have, in my college days, made a run at the gymnastic parallel bars, the high bar and the rings. I'm here to tell you those events require unbelievable upper body strength and a mental toughness, which looks similar to the pole dance challenge.
I say, bring it on! Oh, and I've got an idea for judges: Judging Olympic male pole dancers should be Caitlyn Jenner, Mary Kay Letourneau and Lorena Babbitt. Judging the female Olympic Pole Dancers should be Pee-Wee Herman, Anthony Weiner and Donald J. Trump.
Look at it this way...we no longer have baseball as an Olympic sport and those football guys won't stand at attention. I'm thinking pole dancing could become our new national pastime sport and I'll allow you readers to finish the thought about any 'standing' at attention...
(Touch)
Not Just a Cute Body
Personally, I've never attempted a "Pole Dance Exercise' but I have, in my college days, made a run at the gymnastic parallel bars, the high bar and the rings. I'm here to tell you those events require unbelievable upper body strength and a mental toughness, which looks similar to the pole dance challenge.
I say, bring it on! Oh, and I've got an idea for judges: Judging Olympic male pole dancers should be Caitlyn Jenner, Mary Kay Letourneau and Lorena Babbitt. Judging the female Olympic Pole Dancers should be Pee-Wee Herman, Anthony Weiner and Donald J. Trump.
Look at it this way...we no longer have baseball as an Olympic sport and those football guys won't stand at attention. I'm thinking pole dancing could become our new national pastime sport and I'll allow you readers to finish the thought about any 'standing' at attention...
(Touch)
Not Just a Cute Body
Positive Energy a Blessing
The doorbell rang and when I opened the door there stood a neighbor girl who attends a local high school. With pen and notebook in hand she spoke, "Mr. Roustio, my interpersonal communications class is conducting interviews with senior citizens as we work on a project called, "Through the Eyes of Seniors." I immediately thought of a better title: 'Old Farts Have Arthritis & Opinions,' but I stifled my comment.
Her specific contribution to this effort was to ask three senior men and three senior women this question: "In your lifetime what bothered you the most and has it improved over the years or gotten worse?" WOW! Terrific question and one I could easily and readily answer with passionate knowledge: Answer> "Negative Energy and it has gotten worse." Of course, she requested elaboration and now I share in this blog.
The first time I was aware of 'negative vibes or negative energy,' I was eleven years old and playing on a city youth baseball team. All the older boys on the team could not stop talking about how good the pitcher on the other team was and how he'd likely be too much for us to beat...what a downer!
That kind of negative energy hangs around athletic teams, therefore as I got older I began using mental imagery before I pitched in a baseball game or played basketball. I got off in a area alone, . closed my eyes and mentally pictured making a basket or snapping off a good curve ball. I don't know how much it helped but I sure in-the-hell blocked out negative thoughts! As a coach and athletic director, I had ideas to build various programs and often I'd encounter negative opposition. I pushed through and found ways to surround myself with positive people who pulled in the same direction. If that was impossible, I'd cut my losses and saddle my horse then looked for a place in need where energetic passion could fill a void. I still do that this very day! Gives me a buzz.
Once in awhile, I need an emotional lift and I turn to an individual who's personal strength in the face of heartbreaking odds offers positive energy. Her name was Eva Cassidy. She had one of the most beautiful singing voices I have ever heard. She had bone cancer and friends held a benefit for her. She was so moved by the turnout that with assistance, she walked to a stool at 'Blues Alley' and positioned herself in front of a microphone. With her parents and hundreds of friends in the audience, Eva picked up her guitar and sang for the last time in public...she died six weeks later at age 33. Her song selection was unbelievable and inspires me today.
(Touch)Eva's Last Public Song
Her specific contribution to this effort was to ask three senior men and three senior women this question: "In your lifetime what bothered you the most and has it improved over the years or gotten worse?" WOW! Terrific question and one I could easily and readily answer with passionate knowledge: Answer> "Negative Energy and it has gotten worse." Of course, she requested elaboration and now I share in this blog.
The first time I was aware of 'negative vibes or negative energy,' I was eleven years old and playing on a city youth baseball team. All the older boys on the team could not stop talking about how good the pitcher on the other team was and how he'd likely be too much for us to beat...what a downer!
That kind of negative energy hangs around athletic teams, therefore as I got older I began using mental imagery before I pitched in a baseball game or played basketball. I got off in a area alone, . closed my eyes and mentally pictured making a basket or snapping off a good curve ball. I don't know how much it helped but I sure in-the-hell blocked out negative thoughts! As a coach and athletic director, I had ideas to build various programs and often I'd encounter negative opposition. I pushed through and found ways to surround myself with positive people who pulled in the same direction. If that was impossible, I'd cut my losses and saddle my horse then looked for a place in need where energetic passion could fill a void. I still do that this very day! Gives me a buzz.
Once in awhile, I need an emotional lift and I turn to an individual who's personal strength in the face of heartbreaking odds offers positive energy. Her name was Eva Cassidy. She had one of the most beautiful singing voices I have ever heard. She had bone cancer and friends held a benefit for her. She was so moved by the turnout that with assistance, she walked to a stool at 'Blues Alley' and positioned herself in front of a microphone. With her parents and hundreds of friends in the audience, Eva picked up her guitar and sang for the last time in public...she died six weeks later at age 33. Her song selection was unbelievable and inspires me today.
(Touch)Eva's Last Public Song
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
Wishing & Hoping
I wish all Americans would stand for our National Anthem but just as many Americans passionately support the Second Amendment, I passionately support the First Amendment, therefore people can sit, stand or kneel if they desire. I would hope no woman would abort a fetus but I defend their right to do so in this 'free-secular' society. I'd like to see all school children stand each morning for the Pledge of Allegiance but I fervently argue their right to refuse.
I often 'wish' people would think and do what I think is the 'right' thing to do. I 'hope' you agree, however that we'd have a weak nation if we all thought and acted the same.
Finally, I truly 'hope' & 'wish' that people who get all bent out of shape arguing for their rights while arguing against another's rights would get over themselves! Of course, it's difficult to fix stupid and nearly impossible to change narcissism.
(Touch)
Wishin & Hopin
I often 'wish' people would think and do what I think is the 'right' thing to do. I 'hope' you agree, however that we'd have a weak nation if we all thought and acted the same.
Finally, I truly 'hope' & 'wish' that people who get all bent out of shape arguing for their rights while arguing against another's rights would get over themselves! Of course, it's difficult to fix stupid and nearly impossible to change narcissism.
(Touch)
Wishin & Hopin
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Open Letter to My Fellow Evangelicals
Dear Brothers & Sisters:
I notice over the years that most evangelicals tend to vote for those politicians who wish to deny Gays and Lesbians of civil rights, make laws against a woman who wishes an abortion and have only the Christian religion recognized in our public square and educational buildings.
I have long-ago given up trying to understand your gullibility but I do wish to ask a question. As you continue to support the GOP political candidates who promise to fulfill the aforementioned desires, you are surely aware of the fact that the party in power is YOUR party. Hear me point out as I underscore a fact> note that you have had total control of the Executive Branch, Congress and the Supreme Court for nearly a year but not one attempt has been made to change the abortion laws. What's up with that?
You've been duped...you've been fooled...that's what's up! Those GOP guys know very well that THAT dog don't Hunt... if they want the female vote.
(Touch)
You Been Fooled
I notice over the years that most evangelicals tend to vote for those politicians who wish to deny Gays and Lesbians of civil rights, make laws against a woman who wishes an abortion and have only the Christian religion recognized in our public square and educational buildings.
I have long-ago given up trying to understand your gullibility but I do wish to ask a question. As you continue to support the GOP political candidates who promise to fulfill the aforementioned desires, you are surely aware of the fact that the party in power is YOUR party. Hear me point out as I underscore a fact> note that you have had total control of the Executive Branch, Congress and the Supreme Court for nearly a year but not one attempt has been made to change the abortion laws. What's up with that?
You've been duped...you've been fooled...that's what's up! Those GOP guys know very well that THAT dog don't Hunt... if they want the female vote.
(Touch)
You Been Fooled
Monday, October 16, 2017
Relentless Longing
I suppose 'bitter-sweet' would best describe my 60th East St. Louis Senior High Class Reunion. Yep, most certainly, Bitter-Sweet!' That 1957 class numbered 350-plus graduates and to offer an understatement; the herd is thinning.
I wasn't all that 'social' in high school. I was one of those jock-freaks that was either playing basketball and baseball or practicing one or the other. Besides, I began dating Gerry Bischof in the ninth grade and 64-years later we still manage a date night if not involved with kids, grandkids and now great-grandchildren. That said, I still had about six dear high school buddies who shared the sport participation gig. Okay, here's some 'bitter:' three of those six have died a fourth has advanced Alzheimer and a fifth is digging out of hurricane rubble in Marco Island..
Gerry and I attended the Friday night 'Class Reunion social-mixer' and certainly enjoyed the gathering with faces from the past. One dear friend with whom I attended junior high and high school announced to Gerry and me that her late husband has now been gone for three years and she was 'looking' for a man. I quickly pointed out that all the guys attending are in a holding pattern just months away from walkers and assisted living quarters.
While we were in the Metro-East area and had layover time Saturday before the big Class Reunion shindig, Gerry and I made cemetery grave-site visits to pay respect to: parents, grandparents, aunts/uncles and cousins. Before leaving the last cemetery (Mt. Carmel), I had to pay my respects as I have every year since 1959, to David Pusey, the neighborhood boy who died at age 15 from leukemia. David lived three doors down from us on Rosemont Avenue. He loved to shoot baskets in our backyard court. He was four plus years younger than me and talked about the day he Too would be a high school player. David Pusey was the reason I prayed before nearly 1,000 games that I coached. I thanked God for those healthy boys about to compete and asked his comforting Grace on those youngsters who could not play.
As I contemplate this time in my journey it would be easy to become depressed perceiving life's unraveling...I must always remember, 'It is life's relentless longing for itself.' We must celebrate the moments and give thanks for the ride...and most definitely, we must always answer the call and be true to our school.
(Touch)
Be True to Your School
I wasn't all that 'social' in high school. I was one of those jock-freaks that was either playing basketball and baseball or practicing one or the other. Besides, I began dating Gerry Bischof in the ninth grade and 64-years later we still manage a date night if not involved with kids, grandkids and now great-grandchildren. That said, I still had about six dear high school buddies who shared the sport participation gig. Okay, here's some 'bitter:' three of those six have died a fourth has advanced Alzheimer and a fifth is digging out of hurricane rubble in Marco Island..
Gerry and I attended the Friday night 'Class Reunion social-mixer' and certainly enjoyed the gathering with faces from the past. One dear friend with whom I attended junior high and high school announced to Gerry and me that her late husband has now been gone for three years and she was 'looking' for a man. I quickly pointed out that all the guys attending are in a holding pattern just months away from walkers and assisted living quarters.
While we were in the Metro-East area and had layover time Saturday before the big Class Reunion shindig, Gerry and I made cemetery grave-site visits to pay respect to: parents, grandparents, aunts/uncles and cousins. Before leaving the last cemetery (Mt. Carmel), I had to pay my respects as I have every year since 1959, to David Pusey, the neighborhood boy who died at age 15 from leukemia. David lived three doors down from us on Rosemont Avenue. He loved to shoot baskets in our backyard court. He was four plus years younger than me and talked about the day he Too would be a high school player. David Pusey was the reason I prayed before nearly 1,000 games that I coached. I thanked God for those healthy boys about to compete and asked his comforting Grace on those youngsters who could not play.
As I contemplate this time in my journey it would be easy to become depressed perceiving life's unraveling...I must always remember, 'It is life's relentless longing for itself.' We must celebrate the moments and give thanks for the ride...and most definitely, we must always answer the call and be true to our school.
(Touch)
Be True to Your School
Friday, October 13, 2017
Memory Lane
This weekend, I return to the Metro-East area to celebrate the 60th Anniversary of the East St. Louis Senior High Class of 1957. Growing up in the blue collar City in the 1940's & '50's, were wonderful times for me. I knew I was loved; I felt safe, confident and blessed. My chosen social expression was sport participation as it offered developmental challengers from the competition theirin.
My parents, grandparents and extended family expressed love and support but never did I sense they worshiped me. I understood respect, expectations and accountability. Indeed these were 'those wonderful years.'
Those best of times would slowly unfold through my relationship with Gerry Bischof. She was the Catholic girl and I the Methodist boy. We would share our first kiss in our early teens at one of those junior high house party's. We would date throughout our high school years as she attended the all-girls' St. Teresa high school and I would report to the city's public school known as East Side High.
Gerry would follow her boyfriends high school sports career and continue in that sports' partnership as the wife of a high school coach; a sport journey that continues this day...a total of 64-years.
Three grown children and their respective spouses, which produced fifteen grandchildren and ultimately two great-grandchildren make today, 'The Best of Times.'
EAST SIDE HIGH
We came from all parts of the blue collar city,
Our parents were proud and sought no pity.
We ran and played in neighborhoods side-by-side,
Eventually we meet at East Side High.
We counted Hispanics, Whites and Blacks,
We came together from both sides of the tracks.
Girls always social joining many clubs,
Guys most conceited believed they were studs.
Some very bright students, make no mistake,
Others were clowns and kinda half-baked.
We laughed, shared secrets and dressed the same,
We dated, we danced and cheered at games.
Young and foolish we took a dare,
Few found sweethearts for a life to share.
Graduation found us going separate ways,
But precious memories remain from East Side days.
(Touch)
The Way We Were
My parents, grandparents and extended family expressed love and support but never did I sense they worshiped me. I understood respect, expectations and accountability. Indeed these were 'those wonderful years.'
Those best of times would slowly unfold through my relationship with Gerry Bischof. She was the Catholic girl and I the Methodist boy. We would share our first kiss in our early teens at one of those junior high house party's. We would date throughout our high school years as she attended the all-girls' St. Teresa high school and I would report to the city's public school known as East Side High.
Gerry would follow her boyfriends high school sports career and continue in that sports' partnership as the wife of a high school coach; a sport journey that continues this day...a total of 64-years.
Three grown children and their respective spouses, which produced fifteen grandchildren and ultimately two great-grandchildren make today, 'The Best of Times.'
EAST SIDE HIGH
We came from all parts of the blue collar city,
Our parents were proud and sought no pity.
We ran and played in neighborhoods side-by-side,
Eventually we meet at East Side High.
We counted Hispanics, Whites and Blacks,
We came together from both sides of the tracks.
Girls always social joining many clubs,
Guys most conceited believed they were studs.
Some very bright students, make no mistake,
Others were clowns and kinda half-baked.
We laughed, shared secrets and dressed the same,
We dated, we danced and cheered at games.
Young and foolish we took a dare,
Few found sweethearts for a life to share.
Graduation found us going separate ways,
But precious memories remain from East Side days.
(Touch)
The Way We Were
Thursday, October 12, 2017
America's Gobbledygook
The philosophy behind the United States Constitution's second amendment unquestionably embraces the ideology of self-protection. The American individual citizen has the 'right' to arm himself. It so states in our law.
If this philosophy is good for the 'individuals' in our nation then who in the love of God has the authority to say other nations, i.e. Iran and North Korea do not have the 'right' to fully arm and protect its people against other nations? That's called an even playing field. Look, other nations have studied American history and are aware of the fact that the Native Americans did a poor job of 'arming' themselves and....well you all know how that ended.
Are we Americans all-wise and most-omnipotent or simply arrogant? Or perhaps we operate under the misconception that because God the Creator blessed this country with great resources, we thus believe (falsely) that we are His chosen people and have a superior position over all other nations?
I know what I think, what do you think?
(Touch)
We Are Vain
If this philosophy is good for the 'individuals' in our nation then who in the love of God has the authority to say other nations, i.e. Iran and North Korea do not have the 'right' to fully arm and protect its people against other nations? That's called an even playing field. Look, other nations have studied American history and are aware of the fact that the Native Americans did a poor job of 'arming' themselves and....well you all know how that ended.
Are we Americans all-wise and most-omnipotent or simply arrogant? Or perhaps we operate under the misconception that because God the Creator blessed this country with great resources, we thus believe (falsely) that we are His chosen people and have a superior position over all other nations?
I know what I think, what do you think?
(Touch)
We Are Vain
I Relish the Possibility.
Dallas Cowboys' owner, Jerry Jones has put his players on notice: 'Kneel or sit during the National Anthem and you don't get to play in the football game.' And then there is President Trump who keeps driving the racial wedge and stirring the pot to excite and incite his 'white Nationalist' base. It was Trump who insisted that some Neo-Nazis and White-Nationalist were "fine people" on the heels of the Charlottesville protest yet condemns pro-athletes (most of whom are black) calling them out as un-American or un-patriotic.
If Trump keeps pushing his 'selective-patriotism agenda' upon these players the issue will end up in the Supreme Court...oh, buddy boy...let's get-it-on!
(Touch)
Dumb Ass
If Trump keeps pushing his 'selective-patriotism agenda' upon these players the issue will end up in the Supreme Court...oh, buddy boy...let's get-it-on!
(Touch)
Dumb Ass
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
'Pivotal People'
I call them 'Pivotal People.' We all have been touched by 'them' and some of 'us' become 'them.'
Let me explain: I ask you to think of people outside your family-relations who impacted your life. We would likely agree family interactions usually hone the bulk of our social perspectives, religious beliefs (or lack thereof) and a myriad of other attitudes and personal views. Putting aside that family dynamic, I urge you to recall a person or persons who shaped or changed your philosophy, ideals or pursuits. Those 'pivotal people' who may have altered your life's journey.
My personal reflection renders two such 'pivotal people' both of whom were coaches. I was a fifteen year old sophomore entering East St. Louis Senior high school at the winter (January) mid-term. If I was to continue with that time schedule, I would graduate three years later in January.
The high school basketball coach was a legend on two-fronts. Louis 'Pick' Dehner had been an All-America basketball player at the University of Illinois. Coach Dehner was also a legend in the Illinois high school coaching circles with his bigger than life personality and court side antics. Suffice to state: Coach Dehner was not the easiest coach for whom to play. He was also the school's baseball coach and I played both baseball and basketball. Dehner had a profound aversion to placing much stock in a student-athlete who was to graduate mid-year. A mid-year graduate disrupted the basketball team and was denied a spring baseball season. Dehner was known to encourage players whom he believed could help his teams, to drop out of school one semester during their sophomore year then returning to school with two consecutive, interrupted years in tact to play sports. I did that at the coach's persistence. Had I not followed Dehner's advice, I am certain I would not have attended college and never entered the teaching/coaching profession.
At high school's end, I was disillusioned with various possibilities. I could have opted to sign a meager pro baseball contract and likely washed out at summers end or I could get little financial aid attending a few small colleges playing either baseball or basketball. Enter 'pivotal person' Coach Jim Collie. Dr. Collie had just left McKendree College accepting the basketball job at Illinois State. He camped out on my door step with a terrific offer to play both baseball and basketball at ISU. Call me 'Redbird Mel.'
I am blessed and most grateful. I am also pleased that I made sure that Voach Dehner and Voach Collie were duly thanked by me before their deaths. There is an old saying, 'pass it forward.' I hope and pray I have. What's your story? Who were your 'pivotal people?'
(Touch)
Thank you Coach
Let me explain: I ask you to think of people outside your family-relations who impacted your life. We would likely agree family interactions usually hone the bulk of our social perspectives, religious beliefs (or lack thereof) and a myriad of other attitudes and personal views. Putting aside that family dynamic, I urge you to recall a person or persons who shaped or changed your philosophy, ideals or pursuits. Those 'pivotal people' who may have altered your life's journey.
My personal reflection renders two such 'pivotal people' both of whom were coaches. I was a fifteen year old sophomore entering East St. Louis Senior high school at the winter (January) mid-term. If I was to continue with that time schedule, I would graduate three years later in January.
The high school basketball coach was a legend on two-fronts. Louis 'Pick' Dehner had been an All-America basketball player at the University of Illinois. Coach Dehner was also a legend in the Illinois high school coaching circles with his bigger than life personality and court side antics. Suffice to state: Coach Dehner was not the easiest coach for whom to play. He was also the school's baseball coach and I played both baseball and basketball. Dehner had a profound aversion to placing much stock in a student-athlete who was to graduate mid-year. A mid-year graduate disrupted the basketball team and was denied a spring baseball season. Dehner was known to encourage players whom he believed could help his teams, to drop out of school one semester during their sophomore year then returning to school with two consecutive, interrupted years in tact to play sports. I did that at the coach's persistence. Had I not followed Dehner's advice, I am certain I would not have attended college and never entered the teaching/coaching profession.
At high school's end, I was disillusioned with various possibilities. I could have opted to sign a meager pro baseball contract and likely washed out at summers end or I could get little financial aid attending a few small colleges playing either baseball or basketball. Enter 'pivotal person' Coach Jim Collie. Dr. Collie had just left McKendree College accepting the basketball job at Illinois State. He camped out on my door step with a terrific offer to play both baseball and basketball at ISU. Call me 'Redbird Mel.'
I am blessed and most grateful. I am also pleased that I made sure that Voach Dehner and Voach Collie were duly thanked by me before their deaths. There is an old saying, 'pass it forward.' I hope and pray I have. What's your story? Who were your 'pivotal people?'
(Touch)
Thank you Coach
Monday, October 9, 2017
Let Well Enough Alone
This past rainy Saturday found Mel and Gerry 'hold up' watching afternoon television. Oh, don't jump to the notion that we were watching together...nope, not the case! I was downstairs in the family room watching Iowa State upset Oklahoma and Ohio State manhandle Maryland. My wife was upstairs in the master bedroom watching a continuous marathon of Hallmark Channel movies.
Between the two football games, I moseyed upstairs to check on the hip replacement recovering girl. As I entered the room she threw a 'stop' hand up toward my direction and without moving her fixed eyes from the TV, she commanded, "Don't say a word this movie's in the final scene." I moved quietly to a nearby glider chair and I kid you not by the time I sat down and reached for a magazine, the show ended and another Hallmark feature began without nary a commercial interruption. I swear the leading young lady from the previous flick was staring in this new feature.
I took a bold step and spoke. "How the hell do you remember all the different plots when so often the same characters appear over and over in Hallmark movies?" Without hesitation my wife countered,"How do you remember all those football passing plays?" She kept it up, "Besides, you can't even see the faces of the characters you're watching, they have to wear numbers."
Lessen: Aside from not kicking a sleeping dog, I don't bother a woman watching the Hallmark Movie Channel. But they ain't my kinda movies...too much syrup.
(Touch)
Now This Is My Kinda Movie
Between the two football games, I moseyed upstairs to check on the hip replacement recovering girl. As I entered the room she threw a 'stop' hand up toward my direction and without moving her fixed eyes from the TV, she commanded, "Don't say a word this movie's in the final scene." I moved quietly to a nearby glider chair and I kid you not by the time I sat down and reached for a magazine, the show ended and another Hallmark feature began without nary a commercial interruption. I swear the leading young lady from the previous flick was staring in this new feature.
I took a bold step and spoke. "How the hell do you remember all the different plots when so often the same characters appear over and over in Hallmark movies?" Without hesitation my wife countered,"How do you remember all those football passing plays?" She kept it up, "Besides, you can't even see the faces of the characters you're watching, they have to wear numbers."
Lessen: Aside from not kicking a sleeping dog, I don't bother a woman watching the Hallmark Movie Channel. But they ain't my kinda movies...too much syrup.
(Touch)
Now This Is My Kinda Movie
Saturday, October 7, 2017
He's not stupid.
Permit me to connect some dots. Let me first state that I did not serve in the military. I was old enough to angst with my mother during my father's deployment during WWII, I have a never ending respect and appreciation for our troops.
I remember my mother and father first breaking with their Democrat political views when voting for their first Repunlican Presidential candidate, General Dwight D. Eisenhower. Their reasoning was simple: They both believed a military man, knowing the horrors of war, would be slow to enter a nation into said war.
Our current President, Donald Trump has surrounded himself with a most capable field of military advisers yet chastises his Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson for "wasting his time attempting to negotiate with our adversaries." Along with constant middle school name-calling rhetoric with North Korea's leader, Trump antagonizes other adversaries (Iran) and creates unstable and anxious relations with allies with nebulous and disconcerting comments, i.e. "Perhaps this is the calm before the storm."
I have a grandson poised as a potential 'military call up' should the United States enter a war. As other parents and grandparents would echo, Trump's unguarded and I'll-advised comments are not cute as he seemingly suggests with his smirks and smiles. His immature antics can put young lives in great jeopardy. I don't believe I'm wrong with this perspective. Consider Republican Senator Bob Corker who is NOT a Trump hater, said this: "Secretary Tillerson, (Generals) Mattis and Kelly are the only thing keeping America from chaos." Those are not words from some mis-informed crazy (going to hell) liberal...they are words expressing my concerns from a staunch GOP conservative.
This is serious folks. This is life and death serious and we better hope there are some Dwight D. Eisenhowers near that Oval Office. Our President is NOT a moron as reported to have been characterized by our Secretary of State.
Of course, if you listen to Trump's base supporters, 'everybody's picking on President Trump.' Nothing is his fault. It's 'fake' news. And now, Donald tells us, all must allow Donald to to give us 'verification' on any and all news reports. He's not a moron, he's a buffoon.
(Touch)
One means stupid' the other means 'clown.'
I remember my mother and father first breaking with their Democrat political views when voting for their first Repunlican Presidential candidate, General Dwight D. Eisenhower. Their reasoning was simple: They both believed a military man, knowing the horrors of war, would be slow to enter a nation into said war.
Our current President, Donald Trump has surrounded himself with a most capable field of military advisers yet chastises his Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson for "wasting his time attempting to negotiate with our adversaries." Along with constant middle school name-calling rhetoric with North Korea's leader, Trump antagonizes other adversaries (Iran) and creates unstable and anxious relations with allies with nebulous and disconcerting comments, i.e. "Perhaps this is the calm before the storm."
I have a grandson poised as a potential 'military call up' should the United States enter a war. As other parents and grandparents would echo, Trump's unguarded and I'll-advised comments are not cute as he seemingly suggests with his smirks and smiles. His immature antics can put young lives in great jeopardy. I don't believe I'm wrong with this perspective. Consider Republican Senator Bob Corker who is NOT a Trump hater, said this: "Secretary Tillerson, (Generals) Mattis and Kelly are the only thing keeping America from chaos." Those are not words from some mis-informed crazy (going to hell) liberal...they are words expressing my concerns from a staunch GOP conservative.
This is serious folks. This is life and death serious and we better hope there are some Dwight D. Eisenhowers near that Oval Office. Our President is NOT a moron as reported to have been characterized by our Secretary of State.
Of course, if you listen to Trump's base supporters, 'everybody's picking on President Trump.' Nothing is his fault. It's 'fake' news. And now, Donald tells us, all must allow Donald to to give us 'verification' on any and all news reports. He's not a moron, he's a buffoon.
(Touch)
One means stupid' the other means 'clown.'
Friday, October 6, 2017
"Hi Yo Silver! .Away!"
Recently, I watched the movie 'Rooster Cogburn' staring John Wayne. While enjoying a movie that I've seen dozens of times, I reflected on my cowboy/ western movies' love-affair and how it all began.
As a very young boy in the late 1940's, I hung around Grandpa E. V. Bennett because we lived close to my grandparents and E. V. always fascinated with good stories and good sweets in his possession. At that time radio programs entertained families. E. V. got me hooked on 'country music' while listening to The Grand Old Opry and western programs. Of course, I got to know the cowboy names: Gene Autry, Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers and the classic series 'Death Valley Days.' I can still hear 'Pancho' saying, "Ah, Cisco!" Cisco reacts, "Ah, Pancho!"
Finally, 1949 gave us a look at our radio heroes through the magic of television. E. V. would cuss Clayton Moore, who played the Lone Ranger because of the opening scene when Moore rode 'Silver' down a hill at a gallop. "Damn Fool should know riding that horse fast downhill is hard on the animal's legs," said Grandpa. I've since researched it...E.V. was correct.
About this time, I discovered the Saturday afternoon Double Feature cowboy movies at the rundown, filthy, rat infested 'Avenue Theater' in downtown East St. Louis. The price was right....09 cents. Smart kids brought their own candy and None of the kids ate the Avenue's popcorn. I recall how my Chuck Taylor Converse All-Star tennis shoes stuck to the floor in the fire trap theater.
These days, I never miss a chance to watch cowboy movies playing on television. I suppose my favorites are Rio Bravo, Tombstone and Unforgiven. I do have a wish. I'd like to see a running serial before the feature film. You know, something with Tom Mix or 'Hoot' Gibson.
(Touch)
Hi Yo Silver! Away!
As a very young boy in the late 1940's, I hung around Grandpa E. V. Bennett because we lived close to my grandparents and E. V. always fascinated with good stories and good sweets in his possession. At that time radio programs entertained families. E. V. got me hooked on 'country music' while listening to The Grand Old Opry and western programs. Of course, I got to know the cowboy names: Gene Autry, Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers and the classic series 'Death Valley Days.' I can still hear 'Pancho' saying, "Ah, Cisco!" Cisco reacts, "Ah, Pancho!"
Finally, 1949 gave us a look at our radio heroes through the magic of television. E. V. would cuss Clayton Moore, who played the Lone Ranger because of the opening scene when Moore rode 'Silver' down a hill at a gallop. "Damn Fool should know riding that horse fast downhill is hard on the animal's legs," said Grandpa. I've since researched it...E.V. was correct.
About this time, I discovered the Saturday afternoon Double Feature cowboy movies at the rundown, filthy, rat infested 'Avenue Theater' in downtown East St. Louis. The price was right....09 cents. Smart kids brought their own candy and None of the kids ate the Avenue's popcorn. I recall how my Chuck Taylor Converse All-Star tennis shoes stuck to the floor in the fire trap theater.
These days, I never miss a chance to watch cowboy movies playing on television. I suppose my favorites are Rio Bravo, Tombstone and Unforgiven. I do have a wish. I'd like to see a running serial before the feature film. You know, something with Tom Mix or 'Hoot' Gibson.
(Touch)
Hi Yo Silver! Away!
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Craziness Rampant
If you readers feel as I feel, you shake your head and wonder, 'What's going on?' Increasing terrorists' attacks throughout the world, stark-bitter divisions between races, angry attacks over political philosophies, eroding respect for authority (parents, teachers clergy and the law). Out-of-control abuse of prescription drugs and illegal drugs. Nations threatening other nations with nuclear annihilation. Fear and anxiety running rampant across this America we love. We now observe 'escape-entertainment' i.e., sports and performing arts in the midst of controversy as our countrymen become divided over protest, patriotism, respect for our American flag.
I cannot recall ANY former American President who failed to 'stay above the fray' and posture himself in a manner to attempt to heal conflicts and divisions within our country. Sadly, President Trump often initiates the 'fray' or he certainly fans the fire with inflammatory comments. If that's not disheartening enough, we have the likes of a minister (Pat Robertson) who obviously suffers from delusional thoughts claiming that a madman's mass-killings of concert attending Americans happened because people are disrespecting President Trump. Robertson also suggested that NFL players kneeling in protest during the National Anthem upsets God. This is in line with the late Pastor Jerry Falwell who once blamed natural disasters on gays and the Reverend John Hagee claiming that the Hurricane Katrina disaster hit New Orleans because it's a sinful place. This kind of rhetoric drives skeptics away from a relationship with Jesus. It is apparent to me that some preachers have a hellava time getting out of the Old Testament and embracing the Good News.
If speaking in behalf of Jesus Christ by stating that our Lord is responsible for the deaths of innocent people is NOT Blasphemy, I don't know what blasphemy is! Aside from bearing false witness, these men are dangerous fools.
As for me, I believe my country lost its way when young babies were slaughtered at Sandy Hook Elementary School and a nation did NOTHING to address its growing gun violence problem.
I'm not sure which is craziest, the actions of man or mans' explanations for his actions.
(Touch)
Heal Our Nation
I cannot recall ANY former American President who failed to 'stay above the fray' and posture himself in a manner to attempt to heal conflicts and divisions within our country. Sadly, President Trump often initiates the 'fray' or he certainly fans the fire with inflammatory comments. If that's not disheartening enough, we have the likes of a minister (Pat Robertson) who obviously suffers from delusional thoughts claiming that a madman's mass-killings of concert attending Americans happened because people are disrespecting President Trump. Robertson also suggested that NFL players kneeling in protest during the National Anthem upsets God. This is in line with the late Pastor Jerry Falwell who once blamed natural disasters on gays and the Reverend John Hagee claiming that the Hurricane Katrina disaster hit New Orleans because it's a sinful place. This kind of rhetoric drives skeptics away from a relationship with Jesus. It is apparent to me that some preachers have a hellava time getting out of the Old Testament and embracing the Good News.
If speaking in behalf of Jesus Christ by stating that our Lord is responsible for the deaths of innocent people is NOT Blasphemy, I don't know what blasphemy is! Aside from bearing false witness, these men are dangerous fools.
As for me, I believe my country lost its way when young babies were slaughtered at Sandy Hook Elementary School and a nation did NOTHING to address its growing gun violence problem.
I'm not sure which is craziest, the actions of man or mans' explanations for his actions.
(Touch)
Heal Our Nation
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
'Those People?'
I've heard the phrase for a lifetime.."Those people..." The first time I heard that phrase it rendered a distinct definition. "Those people were any 'peoples' who were people of a color other than 'white.' Now, before you get all rankled remember the old adage: 'You shit your friends and I'll shit my friends but let's not shit one another.'
"Those people" is a phrase that has been used by White folks throughout the history of this country. That first time I referenced hearing the phrase was in my youth back in East St. Louis. There was a few Blacks driving through our 1950's neighborhood and I overheard a neighborhood gentleman say, "Those people don't know their place." During my first college baseball season (1958), our team bus was pulling out of a gasoline station in the Deep South when somebody pointed out several young black children waving at us. One teammate said, "It's a shame 'those people' grow up, they're so cute as little kids." Many years later, I was sitting in a Highland, Illinois bar on a summer afternoon. The tavern door was open and suddenly, I heard a voice say, "What the hell are 'those people' doing?" I looked out the open door to see two black men putting gasoline in their auto at a service station across the street.
My first year coaching at Stephen Decatur high school in 1998, I placed an announcement for basketball practice to be at 5:30AM the first week. My assistant coach told me that several teachers in the lounge said, "Those kids' won't show up that early for practice...why that new coach is crazy."
It really pissed me off. Therefore I telephoned two Black mothers of players whom I had never met and told them that I was told 'those kids' will not make it to a 5:30AM Practice. It must have pissed the mothers off also because I held the first week of practice every year thereafter at 5:30AM and NEVER had one kid late or absent. I wish I could forget that incident because it still pisses me off to this day!
Okay, I just wish my President would stop using the phrase 'those people' because some bigots just might think it's code for darker skin. Somebody should tell him. Say what???
You 'THINK' he knows?
PS. Many of my Black brothers and sisters would do well to embrace and promote assimilation rather than clinging or pointing to a past seeking reparations.
(Touch)
We Are The World
"Those people" is a phrase that has been used by White folks throughout the history of this country. That first time I referenced hearing the phrase was in my youth back in East St. Louis. There was a few Blacks driving through our 1950's neighborhood and I overheard a neighborhood gentleman say, "Those people don't know their place." During my first college baseball season (1958), our team bus was pulling out of a gasoline station in the Deep South when somebody pointed out several young black children waving at us. One teammate said, "It's a shame 'those people' grow up, they're so cute as little kids." Many years later, I was sitting in a Highland, Illinois bar on a summer afternoon. The tavern door was open and suddenly, I heard a voice say, "What the hell are 'those people' doing?" I looked out the open door to see two black men putting gasoline in their auto at a service station across the street.
My first year coaching at Stephen Decatur high school in 1998, I placed an announcement for basketball practice to be at 5:30AM the first week. My assistant coach told me that several teachers in the lounge said, "Those kids' won't show up that early for practice...why that new coach is crazy."
It really pissed me off. Therefore I telephoned two Black mothers of players whom I had never met and told them that I was told 'those kids' will not make it to a 5:30AM Practice. It must have pissed the mothers off also because I held the first week of practice every year thereafter at 5:30AM and NEVER had one kid late or absent. I wish I could forget that incident because it still pisses me off to this day!
Okay, I just wish my President would stop using the phrase 'those people' because some bigots just might think it's code for darker skin. Somebody should tell him. Say what???
You 'THINK' he knows?
PS. Many of my Black brothers and sisters would do well to embrace and promote assimilation rather than clinging or pointing to a past seeking reparations.
(Touch)
We Are The World
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
Thanks for the Life We Live
Today, October 3, is my Dad's birthday Anniversary. He departed this earthly journey 23-years ago. He died at age 75. My father was like many men of his generation. He was born into meager financial wherewithal to proud hard working parents of a large family. And like many of his time, my dad quit school after the ninth grade to enter the work force thus alleviating the financial burdens of his parents.
He began delivering coal in winter months and ice during summer time.(Note: For you youngsters, that refrigerator was once an 'ice box' and the furnace needed to burn coal to heat your house.) Dad made $3.00 a day. He made a bit more as a delivery-service person working for Selmier Peerless Towel & Lenin Company of Missouri. He would marry my mother at the respective ages of 21 & 20.
His work experience took him into Monsanto Plants, on various heavy machinery-rigs as an operating engineer and in the construction trades, namely welding, pipe-fitting and lead burning. Whatever he anticipated to be a 'work-time-line-schedule' World War II altered his plans. My father would serve two-years in France under General Patton before returning with hundreds of thousands soldiers to a grateful nation.
His proud and intense work ethics coupled with a genuine caring personality and unwavering integrity would catapult him into the 'White-Collar' business sales and later management. He would eventually 'make it big' as they say.
My father's humanitarian efforts were well documented through religious commitments, Shriners' work for cripple children, Collinsville Tourism and Collinsville Chamber of Commerce service.
My brothers, Tom and Marty and many family members could offer endless individual names of people whom our father mentored, assisted financially and or placed in much needed employment.
His immediate family still speak the name 'Papaw' with loving respect and reverence.
When I think of my Dad these days, three thoughts come to mind: (1) In 1964, the St. Louis Cardinals won he World Series over the Yankees. Dad made sure that his three sons had seats for that Series' seventh game. (2) when Barnes Hospital Cardiology team exhausted all measures to pull him out of his final heart failure episode, it was my Dad who consoled them and gave thanks for their efforts in his behalf for some 21-post major heart attack years. (3) With my Dad's final breath he made his sons promise to, "Take good care of Mom."
Happy Birthday, Fox. Thanks for precious memories and a wonderful blueprint for living and serving others.
(Touch)
My Father in Me
He began delivering coal in winter months and ice during summer time.(Note: For you youngsters, that refrigerator was once an 'ice box' and the furnace needed to burn coal to heat your house.) Dad made $3.00 a day. He made a bit more as a delivery-service person working for Selmier Peerless Towel & Lenin Company of Missouri. He would marry my mother at the respective ages of 21 & 20.
His work experience took him into Monsanto Plants, on various heavy machinery-rigs as an operating engineer and in the construction trades, namely welding, pipe-fitting and lead burning. Whatever he anticipated to be a 'work-time-line-schedule' World War II altered his plans. My father would serve two-years in France under General Patton before returning with hundreds of thousands soldiers to a grateful nation.
His proud and intense work ethics coupled with a genuine caring personality and unwavering integrity would catapult him into the 'White-Collar' business sales and later management. He would eventually 'make it big' as they say.
My father's humanitarian efforts were well documented through religious commitments, Shriners' work for cripple children, Collinsville Tourism and Collinsville Chamber of Commerce service.
My brothers, Tom and Marty and many family members could offer endless individual names of people whom our father mentored, assisted financially and or placed in much needed employment.
His immediate family still speak the name 'Papaw' with loving respect and reverence.
When I think of my Dad these days, three thoughts come to mind: (1) In 1964, the St. Louis Cardinals won he World Series over the Yankees. Dad made sure that his three sons had seats for that Series' seventh game. (2) when Barnes Hospital Cardiology team exhausted all measures to pull him out of his final heart failure episode, it was my Dad who consoled them and gave thanks for their efforts in his behalf for some 21-post major heart attack years. (3) With my Dad's final breath he made his sons promise to, "Take good care of Mom."
Happy Birthday, Fox. Thanks for precious memories and a wonderful blueprint for living and serving others.
(Touch)
My Father in Me
Monday, October 2, 2017
Get Well Soon, Please!
Every married man would likely admit that when the woman of the house is incapacitated things tend to slow down if not come to a screeching halt! For the last three weeks, my wife finds herself recovering and rehabilitating from a total hip replacement. Understand that is a major intrusion to the body and when that body is chugging along in its seventh decade it ain't a 'walk in the park.'
We live in a rather large house. Four bedrooms upstairs. Main floor finds living room, dinning room kitchen dinette area, family room and adjoining sun room. Downstairs reveals a very large finished room incorporating an office and lounge area. Next to that is a storage/utility area. I point this out because after a surgery, which prohibits stairs usage for three weeks guess who's going up and down stairs playing nurse, cook and laundry lady not to mention shopping duties and some outside chores...you got it....The caretaker. That would be me.
I've done about 80% of our cooking for the past five years. I love it. I've also been doing 95% of our shopping. Whereas I don't love it, I don't hate it. I've never done laundry. That sucks! Actually, I don't mind the washing aspect or throwing washed clothes into the dryer, but you can take that dadgumit clothes-folding chore and SHOVE IT! Besides, I now owe my wife a huge apology. Immediately, I discovered what a pain in the butt it is to take clothes (my clothes) from the dryer and have to turn each item 'right-side-out' before folding, sorting and putting away in drawers and closets.
The only good thing about these house-chores, which my wife did for fifty-seven years, she had nobody standing over her shoulders criticizing how she was doing her job. Unlike the basketball fan who knows damn good and well he could do better.
(Touch)
Take This Job
We live in a rather large house. Four bedrooms upstairs. Main floor finds living room, dinning room kitchen dinette area, family room and adjoining sun room. Downstairs reveals a very large finished room incorporating an office and lounge area. Next to that is a storage/utility area. I point this out because after a surgery, which prohibits stairs usage for three weeks guess who's going up and down stairs playing nurse, cook and laundry lady not to mention shopping duties and some outside chores...you got it....The caretaker. That would be me.
I've done about 80% of our cooking for the past five years. I love it. I've also been doing 95% of our shopping. Whereas I don't love it, I don't hate it. I've never done laundry. That sucks! Actually, I don't mind the washing aspect or throwing washed clothes into the dryer, but you can take that dadgumit clothes-folding chore and SHOVE IT! Besides, I now owe my wife a huge apology. Immediately, I discovered what a pain in the butt it is to take clothes (my clothes) from the dryer and have to turn each item 'right-side-out' before folding, sorting and putting away in drawers and closets.
The only good thing about these house-chores, which my wife did for fifty-seven years, she had nobody standing over her shoulders criticizing how she was doing her job. Unlike the basketball fan who knows damn good and well he could do better.
(Touch)
Take This Job
Sunday, October 1, 2017
Answered Prayers
Yesterday was the 48th Annual Jacksonville high school cross country invitational meet hence forth to be called the 'Dan Moy Invitational Cross Country Meet.' Long time, but now retired JHS cross country Coach Moy was the architect of that event. Dan and I were Crimsons' coaching colleagues for the 21-years I served as basketball coach and athletic director. Our relationship goes back to 1970, when I was the Basketball/cross country coach at Edwardsville high school. My Edwardsville cross country teams participated in the JHS Moy coached meet and my Tigers' basketball teams participated in the Jacksonville mid-January basketball 4-team tournament where Dan was at the officials' table operating the game clock.
In 1977, the Jacksonville basketball coaching position opened, which tweaked my interest. Dan Moy was the first person I telephoned to inquire about the circumstances leading to that vacancy. The rest is history. I became the Crimsons' basketball coach and Dan Moy became a good friend and remained at that scorers table during my tenure.
In 1998, my wife and I moved to Decatur where I assumed basketball coaching duties for three more seasons and after a final coaching retirement continue to serve the Decatur School District in Sports advisory position. It's been many years since I last visited with Moy. However, a few years ago, I did attend the JHS Cross Country Invitational Meet in anticipation of 'seeing' Dan. That would not happened as I sadly discorevered that Dan was very ill with a form of cancer.
My son, Steve's Granite City cross country team was competing in the meet this past Saturday with some forty teams. I was hoping to attend the event but felt a stronger need to be nearby my wife who is recovering from hip replacement surgery.
I received a phone call from an individual who attended the meet who shared this: "Coach Mel, I was at the JHS CC Invitational Meet today and want to tell you that your son hit a home run. Before the meet began, the administrators brought the 40-coaches together to inform them that the meet hence forth would be called 'The Dan Moy Invitational Meet.' Coaches were offered an opportunity to speak. Steve was one of two coaches to offer words and I paraphrase: 'I'm a 1980 JHS graduate, who was blessed to know Coach Moy as both a student and later in the coaching world. Coach Moy was an incredible Christian mentor to many young students/athletes as he sponsored the FCA. I was richly blessed by that experience. Coach Moy, I love you and thank you.' Well said, Steve. Well said!
Today, Dan Moy is cancer-free...Praise God. Dan added, "I'm humbled by having this meet named in my honor...I'm so grateful it is not the Dan Moy 'Memorial' Invitational."
Answered Prayer...Thank you, Lord
(Touch)
What a Friend!
In 1977, the Jacksonville basketball coaching position opened, which tweaked my interest. Dan Moy was the first person I telephoned to inquire about the circumstances leading to that vacancy. The rest is history. I became the Crimsons' basketball coach and Dan Moy became a good friend and remained at that scorers table during my tenure.
In 1998, my wife and I moved to Decatur where I assumed basketball coaching duties for three more seasons and after a final coaching retirement continue to serve the Decatur School District in Sports advisory position. It's been many years since I last visited with Moy. However, a few years ago, I did attend the JHS Cross Country Invitational Meet in anticipation of 'seeing' Dan. That would not happened as I sadly discorevered that Dan was very ill with a form of cancer.
My son, Steve's Granite City cross country team was competing in the meet this past Saturday with some forty teams. I was hoping to attend the event but felt a stronger need to be nearby my wife who is recovering from hip replacement surgery.
I received a phone call from an individual who attended the meet who shared this: "Coach Mel, I was at the JHS CC Invitational Meet today and want to tell you that your son hit a home run. Before the meet began, the administrators brought the 40-coaches together to inform them that the meet hence forth would be called 'The Dan Moy Invitational Meet.' Coaches were offered an opportunity to speak. Steve was one of two coaches to offer words and I paraphrase: 'I'm a 1980 JHS graduate, who was blessed to know Coach Moy as both a student and later in the coaching world. Coach Moy was an incredible Christian mentor to many young students/athletes as he sponsored the FCA. I was richly blessed by that experience. Coach Moy, I love you and thank you.' Well said, Steve. Well said!
Today, Dan Moy is cancer-free...Praise God. Dan added, "I'm humbled by having this meet named in my honor...I'm so grateful it is not the Dan Moy 'Memorial' Invitational."
Answered Prayer...Thank you, Lord
(Touch)
What a Friend!
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