The Realties of Old

In a couple of months, Good Lord willing, I'll turn 80-years old. On that February 18th day somebody will ask, "Do you feel eighty?" I'll answer, "No," because I don't know what eighty is supposed to 'feel' like. Actually, most days I don't feel any different than than the day before but then again, I can't do today that which I did twenty years ago without not 'feeling' so good the next day!

I am aware of aging for sure. Just a week or so ago, I was going through some personal papers and came across a life insurance policy that I purchased back in 1961. I remember the insurance agent back then telling me that if I purchased that life insurance policy, I was investing in the future. I've come to realize that someone will 'collect' on that policy when I have NO future.

I do have visual evidence telling me that I am getting long in the tooth. One such telltale sign is a receding hairline or shall we be more blunt...baldness. Without debate, I note I am quickly thinning on top of the dome. At my last medical appointment, I asked my doctor if there was anything I can do for baldness and he firmly answered, "Yes, work on your sense of humor." That's another thing...as I get older, I prefer my doctors lying to me.

Hey, I'm blessed to be getting older. I'm looking forward to number '80.' Why if I was a bottle of wine, I'd be worth a fortune.

 On this final day of 2018, I wish you all a wonderful, healthy and Happy New Year as you grow older. Embrace your blessings.
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Old? Not Yet.

Hooked Up With Alexa

Another Christmas in the books. A wonderful gathering of 30-family members for a long Christmas Day feast and fun. Four days later, the tree is down and yard decorations are tucked away as hopeful hearts turn attention to welcoming a New Year.

I had three clothing items to return but discovered I had to accept gift cards while the store awaits a 'new' stocking of goods. In the meantime, I find myself enjoying one of those whatchamacallits I seem to get each Christmas. When I first unwrapped the gift, I noticed the 'giver' was excited, which in turn elevated my anticipation. Once I saw the black cylinder shaped object, I felt as I often feel when seeing a new electronic gadget for the first time, which is Dumb, very Dumb.' One of my grandkids yelled, "It's an Alexa." Another voice added, "Oh, Boompa got an Amazon-player...one of those Amazon Ecohs." Suddenly, I'm feeling even 'Dumber,' what's an Amazon 'Alexa' Echo???

Soon people are shouting all the things this mysterious thing is going to do for my enjoyment. It's going to tell me time and weather. Play every type of music by any artist I request. My Amazon Echo tells me many other things, i.e. Rose Bowl odds, recipes, word spellings, trivia answers and offers reminders and stories. I just say, "Alexa, set an alarm for 7AM" and bingo, my alarm is set. Of course, my new gadget comes with tech-directions.This means, I gotta engage Amazon online, remember(for future harassment one more password and...ah, wait-a-minute, before grandson Connor leaves for home, he needs to hook things up for Boompa.

Later in the evening...come bedtime...
           "Alexa, play some Nancy Wilson and Etta James Songs." "Alexa, turn off the lights, I'm tired."

Just Imagine

Funny thing happened on the way to Best Buy to get the latest 'social media gadget,' we lost the last bit of our imagination during the trek. It is true that the young children are becoming more knowledgeable and more deeply absorbed in computer technology but at the risk of their declining ability to draw on imagination. I fear our passion for social media in doing little to make us 'social' if not causing us to become more isolated from others and even our ability to imagine.

When I was a young boy of four or five, I had the fastest draw of any cowboy in the neighborhood. Killed me many Indians and bad guys. At age eight-to-ten, I announced imaginary baseball action on my spinner game just like Harry Carey did for my St. Louis Cardinals. While tossing the tennis ball against the front steps of our home on Rosemont Avenue (Washington Park) East St. Louis, Stan Musial always managed to foul off bad offerings and hit home tuns with good pitches. My Little League baseball coach told me one time, when I was just ten years old to improve my pitching delivery by standing in front of my mother's full length mirror and 'pretend' as I would engage my pitching motion while throwing an imaginary pitch towards the mirror watching my every physical mechanic right down to my follow through.

While shooting baskets night after night on the backyard lighted court, I seemed to always 'nail' that buzzer-beating winning shot...time and time again.

I'm convinced that many great accomplishments by individuals had embryo stages in one's imagination. Imagination is our ability to dream, improvise and create thoughtful events, which enhances our potential for achievement and success. Imagination must be encouraged and nurtured in the young.
Imagination

Ain't Easy Being Me Through The Years

I have never been big on making New Year's Resolutions. I suppose I shied away from such abstract declarations because I truly did not wish for change or I knew I'd fail in the mission and who wants to begin a New Year as a failure?

This does not mean I shouldn't make New Year's resolutions because I should change some of my ways. For example:
1) I should not take issue with those who support President Trump but I can't help myself...I keep thinking of George W. Bush's education slogan: "No Child Left Behind." I hate to see intellectual potential unfulfilled.

2) I should Resolve not to become frustrated with the direction of Major League Baseball as it embraces 'swing & miss' for home runs and hitters striking out two hundred times a season. I should also accept the pro-baseball agents' propaganda that a pitcher going five innings should make 22-million dollars a year for such 'quality starts.' Excuse me here while I throw-up!

3) I should stop yelling at the television as rap singers grab their privates while making bad rhymes.

4) I REALLY should stop criticizing  my 'white' evangelical brothers and sisters for their 'selective' scripture pronouncements. (I am going to try this one so my friend Larry Harnly, who re-posts my blogs, will not come under angry rebuke from his friends.)

Okay, I'll stop here. Those who would...Pray for me on this matter. Meanwhile, I'll pray that our National Nightmare will end in 2019. WOW! 2019! Another year when we will NOT find Jimmy Hoffa but another year of several Elvis sightings!

PS.  As caring (Patriotic) Americans, shall we all put Burke's Quotation on a post-it and place it on our bathroom mirror? You know the one...
                                                 "For evil to triumph it only takes good men doing nothing."

A Proud East St. Louis Native

Last week, I often heard the song, 'Home For The Holidays.' Obviously, I thought of those yesteryear East St. Louis Holidays and how things were. I know the mere mention of East St. Louis these days brings to one's mind, poverty, blight, decay and crime. My recall, however takes me back to a proud blue collar city that was great in spite of known city government corruption, the underground gang element and the ever present prejudices.

The great numbers of ethnicities exemplified mid-America's melting pot promise of a reachable dream. Men punched the time-cards in dirty factories, great railroad terminals, smelly stockyards as a plethora of satellite factories supported the darling of East Coast monies, which was just across the Mississippi River...(St. Louis, Missouri). From inception East St. Louis was doomed to be the bastard child of St. Louis.

Kids from my East Side generation had a defined template before them. A work-ethic blueprint that would make us resilient in difficult times and tough enough to get up off our backside when doors were slammed and we were knocked down. We ignored political graft and pushed ahead. We marveled at the hypocrisy of those prejudiced taught fans who cheered our high school title teams comprised of whites, blacks, Italians, Jews, Catholics, Protestants, Irish, Polish and other groups.

Young kids had their hometown role models. Entertainers like Miles Davis, Tina Turner. Athletes like   Major league baseball players Sam Jethroe, Bob Turkey, Bill Walker, Johnny Wyrostek and even later notables, i.e. U. S. Senator Dick Durbin, Olympian Jackie Joyner, NCAA Coach Cuonzo Martin, NBA star LaPhonso Ellis, tennis great Jimmy Connors and Dana Howard (NFL).

Perhaps one of the most unsung American heroes from East St. Louis was Henry 'Hank' Bauer. Bauer was the  youngest of nine children. A graduate of Central Catholic high school who went to work after high school in factories. Given a pro baseball contract he signed but then quickly enlisted in the Marines  after Pearl Harbor was attacked. While serving in the military he engaged in 11-campaigns, received two Purple Hearts, two Bronze Stars and the Navy Commendation Medal. In the Battle of Okinawa, Sergeant Bauer was one of six survivivors of a Japanese counterattack, which saw fifty-eight from his platoon perish. When returning to the States he played 14-years for the New York Yankees where he won 7-World Series Championships and holds the record for consecutive World Series game hits (17). Bauer was no nonsense.  When he heard that Teammates Whitey Ford and Mickey Mantle were partying late nights, Bauer pinned Ford against the dugout wall and said, "Don't  mess with my money." Bauer also stood atop a Yankees dugout during one game looking for the voice yelling racial slurs at teammate Elston Howard. Bauer said, "Ellie's a friend of mine."

East St. Louis, my hometown. A place I can no longer touch but a place that forever touches me.

All I Want For Christmas

As a child, I recall having those Christmas 'wish lists.' The five-six-year old lad was into 'playing-like' and Cowboys and Indians was the imaginary landscape. I do remember one Christmas getting those two-six-shooters that strapped to each leg as the holsters hung from a belt,which sported a gaudy, shinny buckle.

A year or two later, Perhaps age eight, I wanted that bigger bicycle. I got my wish that year. Christmas morning, I was so excited to see that Roadmaster bike...never mind that it was a 'used' bike. When my teen years took over, the Christmas wish list seemed to always have a ball glove, basketball or some sports' table game. I had become that 'jock-junkie.'

When the teen dating-years approached, I fell into the fashion expectations of the day. My Christmas list had Cashmere V-Neck Sweaters, Khaki, Cord or Levi pants, preferably tapered with a pant-cuff break atop White Bucks, Wing-tips or Black & White Saddle Shoes. The professional years saw my Christmas list moderate with older fashion styles, which included smart suits, flashy sport coats, neck-ties with fluctuating widths and the latest button-down shirts.

In my retirement years' the Christmas wish list focused on 'comfort.' I told those who asked,  "Buy me Nike warm ups, New Balance Tennis Shoes, Polo Sport Shirts, Sweatshirts, Under Armour Pullovers or perhaps ankle length white socks." PS. If the garment stretches...all the better!

On this 2018, Christmas Eve, I would leave Santa the following 'wish list:' Please give me: 1) Family Love, 2) Good Friends, 3) Good Health and 4) More Time. Strangely funny but all the things I had and took for granted those Christmases past are 'Paramount Wishes' THIS Christmas Day.

To each of you who take the time to read my blogs, I wish for you this Christmas, God's Blessings and the love of family...simply stated, I wish for YOU that...which I have.
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Merry Christmas

Siriusly

I have had Sirius XM Raidio in our automobile for the past six years. I pay less than $100 a year and I believe it's worth the three stations I most often dial-in, which are '50's-on-5; '60's-on-6 and the MLB network on channel 89. Hey, it floats my boat!

I do notice that during the Christmas Season Channel 3 on Sirius plays continuous Christmas music. My wife also discovered the station and I'm beginning to suffer. Don't take that wrong, I love Christmas music. Like most folks, I have my favorite Christmas Carols and Christmas Songs. That said, since listening non-stop to this Sirius Christmas Tunes. I've come to realize that every singer who ever stood before a microphone recorded White Christmas, Silent Night and Santa Claus is Coming To Town.

Okay, I said that I had favorites, here are some:
Christmas Hymns>>Silent Night and O' Little Town of Bethlehem
Christmas Songs>>The Spirit of Christmas and Walking in a Winter Wonderland

......and your picks???

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Drifting White Snow

Christmas Anticipation

I don't know anybody, except a child who looked forward to Christmas more than did my father. Whereas a child anticipates Santa bringing gifts, my dad's expectation and joy was anchored in family focus. His 'corner-of-the-block homes were adorn with Christmas lights just shy of Clark Griswold's pad. (By the way, you heard that correctly, as a youth, I lived in four homes and three were corner homes. My parents later lived in two more homes, which were located on corners. Don't ask why they just did; we also had to park in the fourth row at the Drive In Theater next to the concession stand...plus we had to be first out of the theater grounds at movie's end. I suppose you could say that I got my competitiveness from my father). When it came to Christmas decorations, rest assured there was a 'blueprint' in my father's head how all Christmas lights were to be arranged down to the tiniest bulb. The house interior was also given great attention to ornament and knickknack details.

Mother's food was always excellent and plentiful. The highlight for my father was gift giving to his married children and grandchildren. I am convinced beyond any doubt that the gift-giving joy experienced by this aging man was driven by a personal childhood of meager means if not near poverty. I've seen the photos that captured those days and I heard the stories.

These many years later, I find myself in the old man's father role at these Holidays. Unlike my father, I leave the decoration details to my wife: if she's happy then I'm happy. However, I too anticipate family gathering at Christmas time. In fact, twenty-nine family members will be gathering at our  home on Christmas Day. Whereas the gift exchanges are feel good moments they pale in my joyous absorption into family interactions and the depth of caring love, which I am blessed to embrace.

I cannot go home to those East St. Louis days gone by nor can I touch the years of yesterday but the family love anticipation fills my heart as this Christmas Day approaches.

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The Spirit of Christmas

Slowly but Surely Right Before Our Eyes

I'm going to guess with reasonable confidence that through the years most elderly folks have reflected on their lifetime journey and concluded that a good deal of social innocence was lost during their generational ride. I know I certainly feel that some innocence vanished, some purity was lost and simple joys and once important things became mundane.

Teens from my youth were at home more and visited and interacted with family members more. We were not distracted by social media devices. School and church held a higher place on the activities-totem  pole. The weekend school athletic events drew greater crowds of students than seen today. Athletes seemed proud of Letter jackets and monogrammed sweaters and their mentors dressed in suits and ties. Today our athletes seem more interested in assimilation and coaches appear casual,in dress and discipline.  Teenage beer party's were prevalent back in the day but drug abuse and youth suicide was a rare event.

Once in awhile, in the 1940's & 1950's, I saw tattoos on military guys and inner-city gang members. I never recall seeing a woman with tattoos. I went to college games but never saw the tailgate drinking party's I see today. Major League Baseball games saw mostly men in the stands back in the '40's and '50's and seldom did I notice any spectator inebriated. Today at professional games, I notice great beer consumption, more vulgar language and fewer knowledgeable fans.

Seemingly far more young couples live with one another before marriage than ever before and yet the divorce rate remains higher than those decades previously mentioned.

I've noticed the perception of 'lying' has changed drastically since my youth. When I was 8-years old, I lied about where I had gotten a pocket knife. When my mother discovered her son's lie, she washed my mouth out with soap. President Trump's lawyer, Rudy Giuliani said that Trump lies, "But he is not under oath." Now how 'bout that sports' fans? There you go 21st Century American parents,' that's a great template for your children.

Finally, I think we can all admit that with 24/7 cable network news and sports coverage with all those spinning-pundits, we may be better informed but digesting the plethora of elected-leadership garbage, we sure are less innocent as is our America...the not so innocent nation.

A Joyous Life.

I once heard a preacher's eulogy as he spoke to the contrast in the beginning and ending moments of life. He pointed out that at birth one enters this world 'kicking, crying and screaming while those around are smiling, laughing and sharing celebratory hugs.' Then at death's moment a person's stillness causes those around to cry and cringe in agonizing grief.

The poignant thing to consider is one's actions 'in-between' the alpha and the omega. I suppose we all come to wish for love, happiness, health and success. Three of those desires (love-happiness-success) are pretty-much within our very own reach. Health, to a degree, can be helped or harmed by choices made. When we examine love and success predicated on our personality, work ethic and determination. That said, we must embrace the reality that our willingness to take risks is paramount. Our openness to offer our love or apply our talents always holds a potential to be rejected. The sweet joys of life are not guaranteed without a passion to participate.

Our personal health is problematic, therefore we correctly say, "There but for the grace of God go I."

Happiness is the child of our achievements in occupational success and our discovery of love and the one factor that 'seasons' life's journey...and that seasoning is anchored in our service to others whose journey needs a helping lift.

At the end, those who grieve can find solace knowing there was no 'woulda-coulda-shoulda,' left undone thus allowing celebratory hugs once again.

Respect All and Pray For All

A few days ago, I sent a video Christian rap-song message to several Facebook friends. The message contained a requests asking, 'what do you think?' One of my former basketball players respectfully responded, "Coach, I don't believe in God so I'm probably not the one to ask." I answered, "I understand. Have a wonderful Christmas and a healthy New Year." This former player is a good man and I hold a special love for him as I do for all my former players. And I truly respect people's beliefs.

The freedom in our America to choose to believe or not to believe should open eyes to the very reason we must have laws designed for a secular society. Please. It would not bother me to have prayer in public schools nor would I be upset over the Ten Commandments in the public square and personally, I don't believe in abortion, however I yield to the fact that in this free society NO BODY'S RELIGION GETS SPECIAL TREATMENT and those who don't have a religion must never have their freedoms compromised by those who do have a religious faith.

Privately, I choose to pray for my 'Christian' friends and my 'non-Christian friends.' I pray for their safety, good health, happiness, success and yes, I pray that they may know a relationship with Jesus Christ. I say that prayer for all people and especially those I know and love. That's my freedom.

'Splain it to Desi and Mel

Desi Arnaz (Ricky Ricardo)  of 'I Love Lucy' fame, when frustrated and confused over a circumstance would plead his case saying, "Somebody 'splain it to me." I find myself confused and need somebody to 'splain' it to me.'

During President Clinton and Monica Lewinsky's tryst, Senator Orrin Hatch voted for Clinton's impeachment saying, "This great nation can tolerate a President who makes mistakes but it cannot tolerate a President who makes mistakes and then breaks the law to cover it up. Any other citizen would be prosecuted." Recently, Hatch was asked about President Trump's mistakes of immoral activities and covering it up by breaking the law. Hatch said, "I don't care. The economy is doing good."...Could somebody 'splain Orrin's 180 degree reversal?

Here's another 'About-Face' somebody could 'splain....
Rev. Franklin Graham, son of Billy Graham, writing in the Wall Street Journal about President Clinton's immoral activities said: "If he will lie to and mislead his wife and daughter, those with whom he is most intimate, what will prevent him from doing the same to the American people?" Recently, when weighing the allegations of Trump's infidelities, Rev. Franklin reversed his stance on the subject of Trump's tawdry behavior saying, "That's for him and his wife to deal with and I think the Stormy Daniels' thing is no body's business."

I must admit that I'm one of those evil-leaning liberal Democrats who is not a member of the 'family-values party' thus my association with conservatives who, like Hatch states that immoral behavior is okay as long as we're making money. Also, as a follower of the teachings of Christ, I cannot square Rev. Franklin Graham giving a 'pass' to Trump while condeming Clinton for similar immoral transgressions; please, somebody 'splain it to me.

Can Less Become More?

Okay, let me preface this blog by acknowledging that an old man's musings can oft times cause a feeling of pensive sadness or an unhealthy attention to death. I adamantly reject both notions by simply stating the obvious. And the obvious is each of us have perspectives predicated on experiences and our activities at our current station in this journey. Therefore, please accept my words as cautionary notes and insights...no more, no less.

I suppose for the greatest part of my life's journey, I was like most folks. I was busy gathering things, collecting stuff and seeking to amass even more things. Perhaps 'things' (possessions) make us feel good, secure and even successful. These days, I find myself with too much stuff and too many things, which I don't need, therefore I am subtracting. I'm giving away and throwing away.

Beyond those tangible collected items, I have also collected some philosophies and beliefs all of which support my attitudes. I developed many opinions about others' attitudes, beliefs and actions. I have personal political and religious views as well as entertainment habits. I'm wondering if similar to purging my life of the plethora of 'physical commodities' if it might be healthy to examine these non-physical collections for possible discard?

Is it possible that my life could improve by clearing away and ridding myself of the all clutter...both the tangible and intangible? Umm, I'm thinking, however it may be more difficult to subtract the stuff in my head versus the stuff in my den.

Information Can Alter Eating Enjoyment

Every member of my family will attest to the fact that I am a cautious if not particular eater. I fight better instincts to eat salads because I fear insufficient washing of lettuce. I will not accept restaurant drinks with ice. (I'll spare you my reasoning). I shun potlucks and smorgasbords. Often when restaurant eating I'm checking out housekeeping while the rest of my party is checking out menu items.

These days, as I carry about 79-year old body parts and organs and with diabetes, I read labels when grocery shopping. Don't get me wrong, I once ate anything and everything and second helpings. That said, I became 'this picky eater' over time and because of health concerns. I recall how I used to love beef liver and onions. Actually, I'd love some today, however those organs are rather high in cholesterol and thus is a 'no-no.'

Speaking of beef liver, I remember back in the late 1940's, as a nine year old boy, my friends and I would seize a local butcher's discarded beef liver he had tossed to the alley for stray cats. We'd take that liver and head to the lower area of Washington Park East St. Louis. The creek there was not deep except when lower Washington Park flooded. That creek was suspect! Looking back on those days, I know that drainage from farm animal plots and outhouses made its way into that creek... perhaps that's why the crawdads were so huge in that muddy reservoir. Now, the true definition of 'crawdads' is  'freshnwater fish.' Well these crawdads were not freshwater, believe me.

We'd tie some liver parts on a string and toss it into the creek. In minutes we'd have two or three huge crawdads with punchers clinging to that slimy liver. Once we filled a bucket with these 'dads we headed to Mrs Jacknewitz's house where she would boil those crawdads in a big iron kettle over an open fire pit....Good Eating!

Okay, I know what you're thinking. If I survived that Eating adventure, I should not worry about ice in my diet cola. Ah, to be young and foolish again!

Blessed to be In-Touch

A nice luncheon yesterday with good friends with-whom the Roustio's' have an interesting long lasting connection. I speak of John and Rose Conklin. John played basketball for me at Mason City high school for two years, 1965-66 & 1966-67. Before playing at Mason City, John was a two year starter at nearby Easton high school. In John's four varsity seasons he totaled over 2300 points, which ranks him 46-on the IHSA all-time individual scorers' list. The boy could flat out shoot and was fortunate to play with outstanding teammates his Mason City years.

John went on to have a outstanding college career at Northern Michigan before entering the high school teaching/coaching ranks. When I left Edwardsville to take the Jacksonville basketball head coaching position, I brought there assistant coaches with me. Kenny Hickman (on staff at Edwardsville), Sam Holmes from the Metro-East area and John Conklin from Atwood-Hammond.

John stayed in coaching a brief time as he pursued a career in educational administration following his father, Ray Conklin's career path. John became an assistant superintendent at Jacksonville and later Superintendent of the Athens' school district. John enjoys telling folks that even though he became 'my' boss at Jacksonville, "Coach Roustio never understood that his former ball player/assistant coach was now his superior." I plead guilty but with partial blame back on John.

John is one of here former players inthe top echelon of Illinois prep scorers who I was fortunate to coach. Edwardsville' Greg Ahart was a four-year stater 1970-1974 scoring a school career mark of 1,845 points while Andy Kaufmann (Jacksonville) ranks #2 on the IHSA individual scorers list with 3160 points.

One sidebar readers should know: Several years ago, my wife and I met John and Rose Conklin and our daughter Pam and husband Tim Howell in Petersburg to support our son Steve's Pirates basketball team. During a time out, Pam, seated behind us leaned over towards John and said, "John on behalf of my brother, Steve and sister, Dawn, we want you to deliver Dad's eulogy." Talk about breaking the flow of prep basketball entertainment.

For the past ten years since hearing my daughter, Pam's eulogy invitation, I wonder if it's really a good idea to have a former player offer closing words about his coach's journey. Hopefully, Rose will proof read.

Santa Claus Is Coming!

We have one of those December cloth calendars that has little pockets under each day, which permits us to move a mini-candy-cane each new day ever closer to Christmas Day. When our kids were at home, they became more and more excited moving that candy cane. Today with the children grown up and gone from this house, my wife and I sometimes forget to move that candy cane. Still, I note other indicators suggesting the days marching closer to 'the Big Day.' First the tall artificial green tree was erected by yours truly two days after Thanksgiving. The next few days ornaments were attached to the tree and then came the Nativity placement under the tree. (Several years ago, our dog ate a cow and two Camels...at least the wise men are all present.)

Next the yard lights and front porch decorations were carefully arranged.....it's now the first week of December. With tree and yard lights in place, my wife's attention becomes even more intense as she decorates every shelf, end-table, hutch, mantel and banister in our four bedroom, two-story home with miniature Santa's, Holly, Garland and colorful lights. I've counted 14-Santa figures, 11-Angels,
3-Stuffed Disney characters in Santa clothing, a Santa Bear, a Penguin dressed as an elf and too many Snowmen to count.

Christmas Day will find 29-family members gathered around three tables. There will be gift  exchanges taking place with Nana and Boompa giving attention to each satellite family. Later Christmas evening all will gather in the living room and engage in various games...most of which factor around pantomime.

Years ago, somebody asked me, 'what were the prettiest lights you saw at Christmas?' I always answered, "The automobile tail lights of families leaving. The past several years, I find myself dreading Christmas' Days end. I'm sure anybody over age sixty-five understands. I'm sure my kids feel the same. You see, a few years ago I made arrangements for the three families to have hotel rooms so they might have more comfortable sleeping conditions Christmas night.  My kids rejected the notion. I think I need not explain that reasoning either. Must stop here, my wife wants me to put some Christmas lights up in the backyard today. Folks, there's an vacant field behind our  home...nobody will see those lights....I almost mentioned that to her...Yep, Christmas is coming soon!
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https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=WgEVI8DEkF8

They Remind Us Of What Makes Greatness

In the midst of sorrow and grief brought by death, a nation in a moment is uplifted and embolden in hope and faith with reminders and flashes of our goodness. Within four months our nation witnessed the death of two war heroes and political leaders, John McCain and George H. W. Bush.

Each of the aforementioned men had televised funerals with extensive and well deserved pageantry appropriate for their respective contributions to a grateful nation. Aside from the obvious televised events, the commonality between the two farewell funerals was the underscoring of the significant attention given to the great foundations upon which this nation was built.

People of all diversified backgrounds set aside those obvious differences and with one voice and a singular purpose we re-claimed the forgotten values of service, bravery and faith. McCain and Bush were men determined to protect a nation's fundamental values and its democracy. They understood that their personal journeys would be richer and fulfilled through service to others. Each man's military bravery is well documented in near death experiences. Faith was a simple but central component in the lives. They trusted and placed faith in their fellow man and acknowledge a Godly power, which is omnipotent.

The warm emotional feelings are found in love and service for others. We appreciate the humbleness noted in men of great accomplishments and our hope is unlisfted. Senator McCain and President Bush did their best to preserve a better life for coming generations. These two honorable men were void of empty boasting and bragging. Oh my, we pray and hope for the return of such leadership.

It Ain't Over Until It's Over

A few years ago, I attended a funeral of a former student-athlete in Assumption, Illinois where I first began coaching in 1962. While visiting that day another former player asked in a surprising tone, "Coach, how old are you?"  His voice inflection suggested that perhaps he was a bit surprised that I was still on the green-side of the lawn.

Another question I frequently get these days is, "Coach, how much longer do you intend to do that coordination of the Decatur Thanksgiving Basketball event?" Again, the inquiry pleads a subliminal question, 'Aren't you getting kinda long in the tooth for such a demand on an old fart?'

As I weigh this journey of mine, I believe that I've learned a few life lessons that make real sense to me...as Socrates once challenged, "Know Thyself." Thank God, I negotiated that hurdle years ago...

1). My Life has purpose no matter my age. I know my purpose is to impact other lives in some positive manner. There has never been anything that gives me greater joy and happiness than to be responsible for lifting the spirits of another individual. That week long basketball tournament with its money raising and coordination demands is all worth it when I observed the excitement of fans watching the incredibly talented competition. My heart is filled when we honor grand marshals, Decatur Heroes and legends. And how wonderful to see Decatur folk's homecoming greetings and  hugs.

2) I have come to appreciate with a thankful heart my health and energy. Therefore, I must get off my butt and give back as long as I can.

3) I have known my entire life that things of greatest value is not money but instead relationships. I must reach out for those contacts.

 4) For 58-years, I celebrate a spouse who understands and supports my passion and willingness. Not only does my wife, Gerry understand and support, she encourages and challenges my thoughts and efforts, which makes me better in my mission.

God willing, I shall turn 80-years old this February and I will immerse myself once again in coordinating the 50th Annual Decatur Thanksgiving Basketball Tournament. I don't have delusional thoughts of being around for the 100th Anniversary of the Decatur Tournament but as Yogi Berra once said, "It ain't over till is over."
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It Ain't Over Til It's Over

Sing your Songs

Last Sunday, my preacher said he could not imagine Christmas without music. I say, "Amen" to that, brothers and sisters. However, this old fella cannot imagine life without music.

I have always embraced song as an integral part of my Sunday worship experience. The problem I've noticed is that over the years my taste in song has been forced to take a back seat to a more modern version of Christian music. I mean, I'm wanting those old familiar gospel tunes, i.e., Old Rugged Cross, In The Garden and How Great Thou, not to forget Amazing Grace to be visited frequently but unfortunately they've given way to songs with one catch line repeated 17-times.

Given the fact that I'm a product of the romantic songs of the 1950's, I have committed dozens upon dozens of those '50's classics to memory and there is not a day to pass that I fail to sing aloud many of my favorite songs. My wife, children and grandkids can verify...poor creatures.
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Oh Holy Night

What Value Placed On A God Wink?

I believe I've told faithful readers previously that I have been in a household with dogs all my life. Perhaps I developed my love of animals from Grandpa E. V. Bennett or his daughter, Lucille, my mother. Fortunately, I married a girl who shares the same love for these God winks.

I remember years ago, we had a miniature Poodle named Rueben. Rueben was a show dog who had the good fortune of having one testicle not descending, which kept him from the 'show world' and placed him in our home as a common pet. Rueben loved to take walks with me into a corn field
nearby our South Jacksonville home. I would often allow Rueben off  his leash to chase rabbits. One day he tore a tendon while running. It cost me $400.00 to get him fixed. Some 8-months later he needed the same $400.00 surgery on the other leg. A neighbor questioned my decision to pay that cost on a 'dog.' I ignored the question.

Last week, my Toy Poodle Yodie had extensive dental work done.  I would call an eleven hundred dollar dental bill reflective of  'extensive work.' How's that, you wish to know how Yodie's doing? He is recovering very well, thank you. Any other questions? How do my kids feel about spending inheritance money on my dogs teeth? I suppose their okay with it...they all have dogs of their own. Besides, I'm blessed, my kids are all very successful.

All my dogs have taught me the same great lesson: 'Live and love until the day you die and never worry about tomorrow.'

Outside The Box

When I hit thirty-two years teaching, I opted to retire from the athletic director/teaching position at Jacksonville and remain as basketball coach. Since my days were free, the WLDS/WEAI radio owners, for whom I worked part time the previous 19-years offered me a daily on air  morning DJ/Talk Show position. I did that for four years before moving to Decatur in 1998 to Coach and later serve as a sports consultant.

The morning radio gig was a blast. I was assigned to the WLDS AM side where forever there seemed to be uncertainty about that AM radio demographics. I decided I would play music that I liked, which was '40's, '50's & '60's songs. I also decided to have a daily topic that listeners could call in and weigh in with opinions. It worked. The arbitron ratings went through the roof. As I said, it was a blast.

Since I was not groomed in the radio business, I was unconventional. I broke rules. For example, I did not 'mix' song selections between male and female artist and groups. I often did theme shows, which took me off that track. Come the Christmas Season there were more rules to ignore and I did.
I was told you had to wait until after Thanksgiving before playing Christmas tunes. Occasionally, I would play Christmas songs in July. Here is a song that should be played throughout the year and its message should be displayed likewise as the artist suggests.
(Touch)
Why Not Each Day

Not a Rant But Seeking a Resolve...Help Me

Most mornings, I go-on and on about an issue or person. That's what we call 'ranting.' This morning, I seek your help to find a solution for as a follower of the teachings of Jesus Christ, I am conflicted.

Matthew 25:35-40...

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you invited me in,  I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was in prison and you visited me.

Then the righteous will answer him, "Lord when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick and go to visit you?

"The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'

The words in Matthew 25 beckons at our Southwest border. The message is NOT a conditional  situation. It DOES NOT entertain sentences beginning with "Ya but.......

The Christ this nation says it worships did not offer conditions of  'exceptions' in Matthew 25.

What are we (Americans) to do?