Perhaps a real smart baseball person out there can come to my rescue. I'm missing something. I try my best to understand, I truly do. Here's the deal. I played the sport of baseball from age 8 until age 23. I've coached high school baseball, I umpired eleven years working the NCAA DIVISION II WORLD SERIES in Springfield, Illinois 1978. I have followed baseball closely as a fan for some 71- years.
Okay! It's my understanding that today's MLB players workout most of their off-season. They report to spring training camps in mid-February and the season opens the end of March, first of April. It is now June 1st, and I notice some players hitting well below expectations. I then hear the following comments from players or reported by sports' broadcaster, "I'm getting close." "He's getting close."
Spring training is designed with the specific purpose for players to 'get close.' Close to playing at the level of expectation suggested by the salary paid.
The MLB season is nearly one-third over and I notice 'MY TEAM' is getting close to the cellar.
As Ricky often requested of Lucy, "S'plain it."
Friday, May 31, 2019
Thursday, May 30, 2019
'Fun-Fella Founders'
Every time I drive through Nashville, Tennessee, I imagine a group of highway engineers getting drunk one night and planning the most screwed-up traffic pattern as a joke. That's not the only time I consider drunken party results.
Since elementary school, I've heard the term 'Founding Fathers.' It has always been presented in the most revered terms as if sent to us through some divine intervention. Perhaps but not without error.
Let's agree on what circumstances were conducive to yield Founding Fathers and who were those Founding Fathers. 1) Some group of guys had to organize and give direction to the folks occupying 13-Colonies. 2) some fellas had to decide issues and direct the Revolutionary War and finally, 3) we needed engineers to formulate our governing framework, i.e. Constitution.
The following seven gents are thus considered America's 'Founding Fathers:' John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Hamilton, John Jay (although, I thought he was a MLB player), Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and George Washington.
We were taught that these guys were smart establishing three branches of government (executive-judicial and legislative) with equal powers, which would serve as a 'checks and balance.' Really?
Without debate, we have been shown that a perfect storm rendered to much power to the executive office. The leader can 'stack' the judicial branch and commit crimes and misdemeanors while remaining above the law unable to be indicted. And because their are no term limits in the legislative branch, Congress becomes fertile grounds for loss of moral principles.
So, I ask, which Founding Fella brought the Rum and Coke to that planning party?
Since elementary school, I've heard the term 'Founding Fathers.' It has always been presented in the most revered terms as if sent to us through some divine intervention. Perhaps but not without error.
Let's agree on what circumstances were conducive to yield Founding Fathers and who were those Founding Fathers. 1) Some group of guys had to organize and give direction to the folks occupying 13-Colonies. 2) some fellas had to decide issues and direct the Revolutionary War and finally, 3) we needed engineers to formulate our governing framework, i.e. Constitution.
The following seven gents are thus considered America's 'Founding Fathers:' John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Hamilton, John Jay (although, I thought he was a MLB player), Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and George Washington.
We were taught that these guys were smart establishing three branches of government (executive-judicial and legislative) with equal powers, which would serve as a 'checks and balance.' Really?
Without debate, we have been shown that a perfect storm rendered to much power to the executive office. The leader can 'stack' the judicial branch and commit crimes and misdemeanors while remaining above the law unable to be indicted. And because their are no term limits in the legislative branch, Congress becomes fertile grounds for loss of moral principles.
So, I ask, which Founding Fella brought the Rum and Coke to that planning party?
Wednesday, May 29, 2019
Changes Unnoticed.
Most have heard the saying, "The more things change the more they stay the same." My best research effort suggests the proverb's origin is traced to French novelist, Alphonse Karr (1808-1890). In any event this pithy cliche' remains today. That said, I'm not 'sold' on its validity.
It is reasonable to conclude that one whose life has touched nine decades has certainly witnessed 'change.' Many of those changes did not hint that 'things stayed the same.' Just off the top of my grey head, I would offer a couple of scenarios where change was indeed...change!
1. Church: The invention of air-conditioning has made it difficult for preachers to have parishioners
motivated when asked to "Come forward and find redemption." Back in those pre-AC days, I
remember sitting in a hot muggy church through a hell-fire-and-damnation sermon while trying t
keep cool waving a hand fan upon, which a local funeral home logo was promptly displayed.
Great prop and motivation, I'd say.
(The only thing that remains the same at church throughout the decades...got to arrive early to get
those good seats in the back.)
2. School: Once upon a time there was patrol boys who stopped traffic for us so we might cross
a not so busy side street. That program helped us identify teacher's pets. Once upon a
time, we placed our galoshes and coat in a cloak-room. A room also used for the paddling of a
misbehaving student. No more patrol boys, no more paddling and no more cloak room.
(What stays the same? Bad bad behaving students who need a whack on the butt!)
3. Parenting: Most kids in my adolescent-laced neighborhood came home from school where they
were greeted by a mother. Today, we have a 21st Century reality. Mother's and Father's may both
pursue a profession and many families need a dual income. This is not an indictment of modern
day parenting but it most diffenitely points to irreversible change with consequences and needs for
supportive services. (What remains the same? Children in formative years needing guidance.)
4. Dinning Out: Once the dinning out experience was tethered to a 'special' ocassion i.e. a family
celebration or once-in-awhile treat. These days notes restaraunt parking lots stretch to limits most
any week-day evening. Perhaps this phenonemon can be attributed to busy work schedules and or
overbooked youth activities. (Gotta eat something somewhere.)
5. Medical Care: Used to have family doctors who made house calls and even delivered babies at
home. No family doctor is coming to your home in 2019, but you can walk to the corner 'Prompt
Care' facility and get that antibiotic, tentinus shot or X-ray. Most likely within a stone's throw
from Prompt Care you'll find a choice between a Walgreen's or CVS to fill your prescriptions.
(What remains the same? 'Sickness.')
6. 'A Dog's Life: My dogs yesteryear ran the neighborhood, seldom got a bath and never met a
groomer. My dog's life finds him sleeping in my bed, going on vacations with us and having
dental extractions costing $1,100.00. (That which stays the same is my love for my pups.)
7. 'Service:' once defined as "an act of helping or doing work for someone." That sounds like a
wonderful idea; an idea that fizzled when corporate America discovered how foolish is the
General public. We now go to 'convenient stores and do work before or after we spend money.
We get to check ourselves out, pump our own gas and clean up our mess after eating.
(Tipping @20% remains.)
8. Movies & Imagination: Less often required. Gory murder scenes, double-take sexual
scenes and violent explosions leaves little to one's imagination. (Remains the same is our desire
to visit the concession counter; make sure you have your 'plastic,' you will note greater change.)
9. The Cost of Soda: "Pepsi-Cola hits the spot, 12-full ounces that's a lot; Pepsi Cola, the nickel
nickel drink for you." That was the 1946, jingle. That can of Pepsi is jo longer 12-ounces and
no longer 5 cents. (What remains the same is the goodness of Planter peanuts poured into Pepsi.)
10. Now,,here's one thing that NEVER changed but always sounded like a man singing from his heart.
(Touch)
Don't Change
It is reasonable to conclude that one whose life has touched nine decades has certainly witnessed 'change.' Many of those changes did not hint that 'things stayed the same.' Just off the top of my grey head, I would offer a couple of scenarios where change was indeed...change!
1. Church: The invention of air-conditioning has made it difficult for preachers to have parishioners
motivated when asked to "Come forward and find redemption." Back in those pre-AC days, I
remember sitting in a hot muggy church through a hell-fire-and-damnation sermon while trying t
keep cool waving a hand fan upon, which a local funeral home logo was promptly displayed.
Great prop and motivation, I'd say.
(The only thing that remains the same at church throughout the decades...got to arrive early to get
those good seats in the back.)
2. School: Once upon a time there was patrol boys who stopped traffic for us so we might cross
a not so busy side street. That program helped us identify teacher's pets. Once upon a
time, we placed our galoshes and coat in a cloak-room. A room also used for the paddling of a
misbehaving student. No more patrol boys, no more paddling and no more cloak room.
(What stays the same? Bad bad behaving students who need a whack on the butt!)
3. Parenting: Most kids in my adolescent-laced neighborhood came home from school where they
were greeted by a mother. Today, we have a 21st Century reality. Mother's and Father's may both
pursue a profession and many families need a dual income. This is not an indictment of modern
day parenting but it most diffenitely points to irreversible change with consequences and needs for
supportive services. (What remains the same? Children in formative years needing guidance.)
4. Dinning Out: Once the dinning out experience was tethered to a 'special' ocassion i.e. a family
celebration or once-in-awhile treat. These days notes restaraunt parking lots stretch to limits most
any week-day evening. Perhaps this phenonemon can be attributed to busy work schedules and or
overbooked youth activities. (Gotta eat something somewhere.)
5. Medical Care: Used to have family doctors who made house calls and even delivered babies at
home. No family doctor is coming to your home in 2019, but you can walk to the corner 'Prompt
Care' facility and get that antibiotic, tentinus shot or X-ray. Most likely within a stone's throw
from Prompt Care you'll find a choice between a Walgreen's or CVS to fill your prescriptions.
(What remains the same? 'Sickness.')
6. 'A Dog's Life: My dogs yesteryear ran the neighborhood, seldom got a bath and never met a
groomer. My dog's life finds him sleeping in my bed, going on vacations with us and having
dental extractions costing $1,100.00. (That which stays the same is my love for my pups.)
7. 'Service:' once defined as "an act of helping or doing work for someone." That sounds like a
wonderful idea; an idea that fizzled when corporate America discovered how foolish is the
General public. We now go to 'convenient stores and do work before or after we spend money.
We get to check ourselves out, pump our own gas and clean up our mess after eating.
(Tipping @20% remains.)
8. Movies & Imagination: Less often required. Gory murder scenes, double-take sexual
scenes and violent explosions leaves little to one's imagination. (Remains the same is our desire
to visit the concession counter; make sure you have your 'plastic,' you will note greater change.)
9. The Cost of Soda: "Pepsi-Cola hits the spot, 12-full ounces that's a lot; Pepsi Cola, the nickel
nickel drink for you." That was the 1946, jingle. That can of Pepsi is jo longer 12-ounces and
no longer 5 cents. (What remains the same is the goodness of Planter peanuts poured into Pepsi.)
10. Now,,here's one thing that NEVER changed but always sounded like a man singing from his heart.
(Touch)
Don't Change
Monday, May 27, 2019
Remembering One Tough Warrior
On May 27, 1994 at age 75, my father died at Barnes Jewish Hospital (St. Louis) in the early morning hours. He was born in 1917, one of six children in a hard working blue-collar family of meager means. The Roustio Clan of many occupied an entire block of homes on 56th street in lower Washington Park East St. Louis. They were a rather fearless lot that would 'throw-down' in a heart beat.
Dad quit school after the ninth grade and went to work as a truck driver hauling coal in winter months and ice during the summer months. He would hold many jobs in his life's journey. His expertise in the chemical corrosion protection industry developed as the result of becoming a journeyman lead burner. His life was interrupted at age 26, when this father of two sons was drafted into the Army where he severed two years under General Patton.
Upon his return from military service, his industrial knowledge, in time landed him a sales job in the corrosion protection field and eventually he would be assisted by a large nationwide chemical supplier to become their industrial fabricating company. He was President of plants in St. Louis and Dallas, Texas before his retirement. He designed and built a steak house in Collinsville, Illinois, which he operated for 15-years. His community service, Shriner's Children's Hospital and Church work became legendary in Collinsville.
At the age of 54, he had a massive heart attack that nearly took his life. After spending 30-days recovering in the hospital, my father enjoyed family, friends, Grandkids, his restaurant and community organizations for twenty-one years albeit with fighting periodic heart failure episodes. Finally, his weakened heart responded no longer to the once miracle drugs and procedures offered by the cardiology staff at Barnes Hospital. I shall always remember that moment when the doctors explained to the family and my father that they had exhausted all options. That medical staff, which knew my father well did not disappear after sharing that news but stood outside his room as two orderlies wheeled Dad's gurney out into the corridor to take him to a room where he would receive life-ending care. Each member of the cardiology team shook my Dad's hand and expressed their sorrow. My Dad said to one doctor, "You folks did wonders for me and I thank you."
Later as the nurses made Dad comfortable with medication, I asked if he needed anything and he answered, "No, I just need to play this hand that I've been dealt." As everything I knew him to face in life, Dad played his last moments courageously like the warrior he was.
We all miss you, Fox but we thank you for the blueprint!
Dad quit school after the ninth grade and went to work as a truck driver hauling coal in winter months and ice during the summer months. He would hold many jobs in his life's journey. His expertise in the chemical corrosion protection industry developed as the result of becoming a journeyman lead burner. His life was interrupted at age 26, when this father of two sons was drafted into the Army where he severed two years under General Patton.
Upon his return from military service, his industrial knowledge, in time landed him a sales job in the corrosion protection field and eventually he would be assisted by a large nationwide chemical supplier to become their industrial fabricating company. He was President of plants in St. Louis and Dallas, Texas before his retirement. He designed and built a steak house in Collinsville, Illinois, which he operated for 15-years. His community service, Shriner's Children's Hospital and Church work became legendary in Collinsville.
At the age of 54, he had a massive heart attack that nearly took his life. After spending 30-days recovering in the hospital, my father enjoyed family, friends, Grandkids, his restaurant and community organizations for twenty-one years albeit with fighting periodic heart failure episodes. Finally, his weakened heart responded no longer to the once miracle drugs and procedures offered by the cardiology staff at Barnes Hospital. I shall always remember that moment when the doctors explained to the family and my father that they had exhausted all options. That medical staff, which knew my father well did not disappear after sharing that news but stood outside his room as two orderlies wheeled Dad's gurney out into the corridor to take him to a room where he would receive life-ending care. Each member of the cardiology team shook my Dad's hand and expressed their sorrow. My Dad said to one doctor, "You folks did wonders for me and I thank you."
Later as the nurses made Dad comfortable with medication, I asked if he needed anything and he answered, "No, I just need to play this hand that I've been dealt." As everything I knew him to face in life, Dad played his last moments courageously like the warrior he was.
We all miss you, Fox but we thank you for the blueprint!
Saturday, May 25, 2019
I Plead Guilty...I Give Advice
Following is an excerpt from my book, 'Angels On My Journey:'
I shall confess, I have an inclination to give advice to my loved ones and others I come to know well. I make no apologies. Why would I if I care about their future and happiness? Actually, the advice is straightforward.
My college roommate and dear friend, Kenneth 'Buzz' Shaw once asked me while walking across ISU campus after basketball practice this question: "Have you ever thought about who are the happiest people you know?" I responded, " Can't say I've given that any thought at all." Buzz then made his point: "I believe the happiest people are those people making a living at a profession or job they love and figure out how to help people." I never forgot that exchange and used it as a piece of advice. (Note: Shaw played on Edwardsville second place State Finals basketball team in 1956 with Manny Jackson and Gov. Vaughn. Shaw was later chancellor at Syracuse University his last 17-professional years.)
Please don't misread my point. I have known people of both gender, every ethnic background and socio-economic circumstance who are both happy and unhappy. I have been adamant cautioning young people that they will likely 'work' for some forty years after their education. As a young person do you imagine waking every morning and going to a job you hate for forty years? Think about that in advance and instead of having life happen 'to you,' make your work experiences happen 'for you.'
Once you are in a good place providing for family and self needs, look around and respond to needs of others who may be less fortunate. As Christ said, "That which you do for the least of my people you do also for me." I have never felt so good as in those moments I do something to make it better in the moment for another. Therein, I find joy and happiness.
I shall confess, I have an inclination to give advice to my loved ones and others I come to know well. I make no apologies. Why would I if I care about their future and happiness? Actually, the advice is straightforward.
My college roommate and dear friend, Kenneth 'Buzz' Shaw once asked me while walking across ISU campus after basketball practice this question: "Have you ever thought about who are the happiest people you know?" I responded, " Can't say I've given that any thought at all." Buzz then made his point: "I believe the happiest people are those people making a living at a profession or job they love and figure out how to help people." I never forgot that exchange and used it as a piece of advice. (Note: Shaw played on Edwardsville second place State Finals basketball team in 1956 with Manny Jackson and Gov. Vaughn. Shaw was later chancellor at Syracuse University his last 17-professional years.)
Please don't misread my point. I have known people of both gender, every ethnic background and socio-economic circumstance who are both happy and unhappy. I have been adamant cautioning young people that they will likely 'work' for some forty years after their education. As a young person do you imagine waking every morning and going to a job you hate for forty years? Think about that in advance and instead of having life happen 'to you,' make your work experiences happen 'for you.'
Once you are in a good place providing for family and self needs, look around and respond to needs of others who may be less fortunate. As Christ said, "That which you do for the least of my people you do also for me." I have never felt so good as in those moments I do something to make it better in the moment for another. Therein, I find joy and happiness.
Friday, May 24, 2019
Keep On Keepin' On!
My wife of 59-years, Gerry recently asked how many folks are reading my blogs these days. I told her nearly 400 and asked if she'd like to read any readers' comments. She said, "Nope, I heard enough criticism of you over a 39-year coaching career while seated behind your bench. I don't suppose you're any better writing than coaching." (She's sooo cute!)
Actually, most often before I post my blogs, I read them aloud to my wife. I seldom ever change anything should she offer criticism but have on a few occasions because I do value her opinions. Her opinion is very consistent. My wife does not like me writing political (opinion) blogs but prefers I post lighthearted human interest, family oriented pieces. Actually, I read a lot, observe or hear something and suddenly a topic comes to mind; I roll it around in my slightly above average brain then write my 'rant.'
A friend once inquired, "Do you become angry or hurt when a reader takes issue or says something ugly?" I told the friend, "If I felt either of those emotions, I wouldn't put myself out there for scrutiny.
(Note: Let me give a little insight to coaching high school basketball. With 2800 fans in attendance, one can bet that the coach, in some opinions is playing the wrong 'five,' using the wrong defense or offense, playing at the wrong tempo, holding the ball too soon or not soon enough and is wearing an ugly sport coat.) Whereas, I am like most people wishing to be 'liked,' I obviously have had enough validation in my life that I'm not seeking more! Take it or leave; agree or disagree; that's the readers' right and choice as it was the basketball fans' choice.
Following are some techniques I embraced when criticized as a coach and today when attacked as a blog writer:
1. I don't take it personally.
2. I don't usually feel a need to 'defend' myself.
3. If I am wrong in a statement or statistics, I'll admit the wrong and apologize if proper.
4. I'll respond if motivated.
5. I don't withdraw or shut down due to praise or criticism...I stay my course. I move on.
Thanks for reading. I'm humbled you took the time.
Actually, most often before I post my blogs, I read them aloud to my wife. I seldom ever change anything should she offer criticism but have on a few occasions because I do value her opinions. Her opinion is very consistent. My wife does not like me writing political (opinion) blogs but prefers I post lighthearted human interest, family oriented pieces. Actually, I read a lot, observe or hear something and suddenly a topic comes to mind; I roll it around in my slightly above average brain then write my 'rant.'
A friend once inquired, "Do you become angry or hurt when a reader takes issue or says something ugly?" I told the friend, "If I felt either of those emotions, I wouldn't put myself out there for scrutiny.
(Note: Let me give a little insight to coaching high school basketball. With 2800 fans in attendance, one can bet that the coach, in some opinions is playing the wrong 'five,' using the wrong defense or offense, playing at the wrong tempo, holding the ball too soon or not soon enough and is wearing an ugly sport coat.) Whereas, I am like most people wishing to be 'liked,' I obviously have had enough validation in my life that I'm not seeking more! Take it or leave; agree or disagree; that's the readers' right and choice as it was the basketball fans' choice.
Following are some techniques I embraced when criticized as a coach and today when attacked as a blog writer:
1. I don't take it personally.
2. I don't usually feel a need to 'defend' myself.
3. If I am wrong in a statement or statistics, I'll admit the wrong and apologize if proper.
4. I'll respond if motivated.
5. I don't withdraw or shut down due to praise or criticism...I stay my course. I move on.
Thanks for reading. I'm humbled you took the time.
Wednesday, May 22, 2019
Frightening Concern
Coupled with my own seven teenage years and 39-years as a secondary educator, I yet make no expertise claim on the subject of teen deprsssion and anxiety. That said, I have never-the-less observed teenage drama and intense emotional feelings up close. In my own journey, I would not deny that occasionally, I have felt depressed. I have never liked that emotion and I'm thankful that I could always dismiss those moments by re-focusing on those things within my control that offered a sense of accomplishment and joy.
Research and various studies reveal that depression, anxiety and suicides are all on the rise amongst American teenagers; a significant rise.
I recall one of my own adult children sharing with me the feeling that those high school years were not that enjoyable. I was surprised to hear that comment and investigated the opinion only to find out it was a common feeling with many young adults. All indications point to the fact that those feelings are intensifying with each generation.
This 1957, high school graduate has a difficult time relating to those sentiments. I remember my teen years as carefree, fun, memorable and joyful. Naturally, I ask 'What happened?" What is different for teens when comparing 1957 to 2019? Is the availability and abuse of alcohol and drugs an issue? Is social media a key factor causing sleepless nights, anxiety and depression? Is it socio-economic differences, which escalates loneliness, bullying and ostracism? Perhaps the growing ugly political discourse and the 'us' versus 'them' daily social battleground feeds a national depression.
I always believed that three institution served as foundations for producing mentally healthy people. Those 'institutions' were the family, the church and education. Perhaps one or all of these institutions have eroded in effective impact. I'm just not sure of the cause for today's unhappy, depressed and suicidal teenagers but it has become an epidemic that begs immediate attention with resources to turn the tide. It appears we Americans are killing ourselves with crumbling physical and mental health.
Research and various studies reveal that depression, anxiety and suicides are all on the rise amongst American teenagers; a significant rise.
I recall one of my own adult children sharing with me the feeling that those high school years were not that enjoyable. I was surprised to hear that comment and investigated the opinion only to find out it was a common feeling with many young adults. All indications point to the fact that those feelings are intensifying with each generation.
This 1957, high school graduate has a difficult time relating to those sentiments. I remember my teen years as carefree, fun, memorable and joyful. Naturally, I ask 'What happened?" What is different for teens when comparing 1957 to 2019? Is the availability and abuse of alcohol and drugs an issue? Is social media a key factor causing sleepless nights, anxiety and depression? Is it socio-economic differences, which escalates loneliness, bullying and ostracism? Perhaps the growing ugly political discourse and the 'us' versus 'them' daily social battleground feeds a national depression.
I always believed that three institution served as foundations for producing mentally healthy people. Those 'institutions' were the family, the church and education. Perhaps one or all of these institutions have eroded in effective impact. I'm just not sure of the cause for today's unhappy, depressed and suicidal teenagers but it has become an epidemic that begs immediate attention with resources to turn the tide. It appears we Americans are killing ourselves with crumbling physical and mental health.
Tuesday, May 21, 2019
The Best Thing I Didn't Do!
It's naturally a good feeling to act upon an idea that has merit. I'd like to believe I've done that frequently in my life and consequently pleased with outcomes. This past Sunday, I stifled an idea and found I was equally pleased with my 'inaction.'
I was sitting on the front porch with Pup, Yodie after church having coffee and watching the fast moving clouds. I thought about such moments in the past when I'd telephone one of my old high school teammates and friends. I'd call Smitty, Blackie, Pud, Coop or Lumpy. Those good buddies have passed and I miss our conversations.
Realizing my once phone-conversation void, I immediately thought I'd telephone a couple of grandkids; why not? I have great relationships with these 15-grandchildren. I could call Colin who recently relocated in Michigan and see how things are going. Perhaps I could call Kyle, I haven't talked with him in a bit. Caleb and I could commiserate about our baseball Cardinals' woes. I might telephone Erica or Kaitlyn, Lord knows we share common views regarding people. Lindsay, Loren and Morgan telephone Nana and Boompa often; I could return their calls. I could be enlightened by telephoning Reid or Todd. Alexa just made varsity cheerleading and she may have a story. Shannon just got her driver's permit. I should call her.
Holy cow, I could go for the trifecta and telephone the triplets, Carter, Jake and Jamie. I know they got stuff to share! Connor is doing a internship with the Indiana University sports' department; that might be an interesting conversation. And there's always a potential chat with Little Miss Con Girl, Ashlyn to find out how many times this past week she got out of her second grade classroom to 'see the Nurse?' And there's always a good talk awaiting with the Pied Piper of the gang, first grandchild, Amanda.
I quickly decided to pass on all options. I don't wish to go down that road. I'd Become known as the old fart telling grandkids how they should live their lives. Actually, I believe I already have that mantle. Well, at least for the moment, I 'nipped in the bud' adding fuel to that notion.
I don't know about other grandparents but I do have that urge to tell one more thing or share one more warning with grandkids.
I was sitting on the front porch with Pup, Yodie after church having coffee and watching the fast moving clouds. I thought about such moments in the past when I'd telephone one of my old high school teammates and friends. I'd call Smitty, Blackie, Pud, Coop or Lumpy. Those good buddies have passed and I miss our conversations.
Realizing my once phone-conversation void, I immediately thought I'd telephone a couple of grandkids; why not? I have great relationships with these 15-grandchildren. I could call Colin who recently relocated in Michigan and see how things are going. Perhaps I could call Kyle, I haven't talked with him in a bit. Caleb and I could commiserate about our baseball Cardinals' woes. I might telephone Erica or Kaitlyn, Lord knows we share common views regarding people. Lindsay, Loren and Morgan telephone Nana and Boompa often; I could return their calls. I could be enlightened by telephoning Reid or Todd. Alexa just made varsity cheerleading and she may have a story. Shannon just got her driver's permit. I should call her.
Holy cow, I could go for the trifecta and telephone the triplets, Carter, Jake and Jamie. I know they got stuff to share! Connor is doing a internship with the Indiana University sports' department; that might be an interesting conversation. And there's always a potential chat with Little Miss Con Girl, Ashlyn to find out how many times this past week she got out of her second grade classroom to 'see the Nurse?' And there's always a good talk awaiting with the Pied Piper of the gang, first grandchild, Amanda.
I quickly decided to pass on all options. I don't wish to go down that road. I'd Become known as the old fart telling grandkids how they should live their lives. Actually, I believe I already have that mantle. Well, at least for the moment, I 'nipped in the bud' adding fuel to that notion.
I don't know about other grandparents but I do have that urge to tell one more thing or share one more warning with grandkids.
Monday, May 20, 2019
It Seems Different; Is It?
I didn't have a grandkid or neighborhood boy playing but the scene was inviting so I pulled over, parked my auto and found a seat in the bleachers. It's been a good spell since I took in a youth league baseball game. These lads were likely 12-13 years old and of course had a lot of parent support.
I hadn't been there long when I noticed the moms and dads were more vocal than I remembered. It was obvious that the two umpires perhaps 18-19 were going to catch Hell from both sides of the Diamond. I can't say the umpires were top notch but they exceeded the talent on the field by a good margin. As I sat there for three innings, I could not help but notice some nuances from youth league games of yesterday. First, the players are totally silent during play. There's no, what we use to call 'chatter' of encouragement for the pitcher coming from his fielders. Speaking of pitchers, they have trouble throwing the ball near the strike zone and hitters seem reluctant to swing the bat.
I did notice that players often yell things to their parents. One player who walked and was standing at first base yelled at his mom to get him a water. She obliged and ran the drink down to the first base coach. Another kid had some snacks in his bat bag, which was hanging on the fence. He and a buddy repeated trips for goodies. I'm not certain but I believe another boy either had a cell phone or some electronic device that captured his attention more than the game. Finally, I've never seen so many adults in a baseball dugout 'coaching' kids. It appears most dads 'Coach.'
When I was a kid of 12, I wanted to please my folks and my youth sports' coaches. Seems like a lot of parents want to make their kids happy and seemingly live vicariously through the kid. Personally, as a father, I never took a bit of credit for my children's accomplishments or successes and never did I take blame when they experienced set-backs. It's their journey, their deal...I had my time.
I hadn't been there long when I noticed the moms and dads were more vocal than I remembered. It was obvious that the two umpires perhaps 18-19 were going to catch Hell from both sides of the Diamond. I can't say the umpires were top notch but they exceeded the talent on the field by a good margin. As I sat there for three innings, I could not help but notice some nuances from youth league games of yesterday. First, the players are totally silent during play. There's no, what we use to call 'chatter' of encouragement for the pitcher coming from his fielders. Speaking of pitchers, they have trouble throwing the ball near the strike zone and hitters seem reluctant to swing the bat.
I did notice that players often yell things to their parents. One player who walked and was standing at first base yelled at his mom to get him a water. She obliged and ran the drink down to the first base coach. Another kid had some snacks in his bat bag, which was hanging on the fence. He and a buddy repeated trips for goodies. I'm not certain but I believe another boy either had a cell phone or some electronic device that captured his attention more than the game. Finally, I've never seen so many adults in a baseball dugout 'coaching' kids. It appears most dads 'Coach.'
When I was a kid of 12, I wanted to please my folks and my youth sports' coaches. Seems like a lot of parents want to make their kids happy and seemingly live vicariously through the kid. Personally, as a father, I never took a bit of credit for my children's accomplishments or successes and never did I take blame when they experienced set-backs. It's their journey, their deal...I had my time.
Saturday, May 18, 2019
Re-Thinking My Thinking
I have my suspicions regarding others but there is no doubt about me personally; I've wasted too much time in my 80-year journey. With little sand remaining in the hour glass, I am hereby vowing to waste NO MORE time on the following:
1. Worrying about things going on in Washington D.C.
2. Watching Hallmark Movies when I could be trimming my toenails.
3. Trying to understand how Mississippi, Georgia, Alabama, Kentucky, Arkansas and Missouri can
assume a moral high ground passing anti-abortion laws to protect life when these six states have
to date totaled 1,840 lynchings.
4. Listening to baseball broadcasters explain such nonsense as a hitter's 'launch-angle' or a pitcher's
'Baseball spin-rate.'
5. Watching White male singers grab their crotch, i.e. Black male singers while performing.
6. Driving through Nashville, TN. during rush hour.
7. Trying to 'back-up' things on my computer.
8. Attempting to sing over loud organ music at church.
9. Getting upset and scolding the cashier when the gas pump does not discharge my receipt.
10. Running out to get a lottery ticket when the jackpot reaches some ridiculous amount.
11. Watching the morning T.V. News when I could be sitting outside with my dog having coffee.
12. Looking for exact change.
13. Listening to the third word of a telemarketing call.
14. Buying cheap toilet paper.
15. Doing Potluck Dinners. Oh, I never have done that...forgot.
16. Trying to understand how the Evangelicals can pontificate pro-life regarding abortion but ignore
and be silent when a plethora of gun assaults kill innocent children in our schools.
17. Trying to reason with the unreasonable.
1. Worrying about things going on in Washington D.C.
2. Watching Hallmark Movies when I could be trimming my toenails.
3. Trying to understand how Mississippi, Georgia, Alabama, Kentucky, Arkansas and Missouri can
assume a moral high ground passing anti-abortion laws to protect life when these six states have
to date totaled 1,840 lynchings.
4. Listening to baseball broadcasters explain such nonsense as a hitter's 'launch-angle' or a pitcher's
'Baseball spin-rate.'
5. Watching White male singers grab their crotch, i.e. Black male singers while performing.
6. Driving through Nashville, TN. during rush hour.
7. Trying to 'back-up' things on my computer.
8. Attempting to sing over loud organ music at church.
9. Getting upset and scolding the cashier when the gas pump does not discharge my receipt.
10. Running out to get a lottery ticket when the jackpot reaches some ridiculous amount.
11. Watching the morning T.V. News when I could be sitting outside with my dog having coffee.
12. Looking for exact change.
13. Listening to the third word of a telemarketing call.
14. Buying cheap toilet paper.
15. Doing Potluck Dinners. Oh, I never have done that...forgot.
16. Trying to understand how the Evangelicals can pontificate pro-life regarding abortion but ignore
and be silent when a plethora of gun assaults kill innocent children in our schools.
17. Trying to reason with the unreasonable.
Thursday, May 16, 2019
A Shameful Joke
I see reports that the United States Senate subpoenaed Donald Trump, Jr. to testify as it seeks truth regarding Russia's meddling in our 2016 elections and just what Trump, Jr. knows. I suppose you can say it's all part of America's search for justice under our Constitution. Update reporting indicates that Trump Jr. is not going to 'blow off' the subpoena as encouraged to do so by GOP Senator Lindsay Graham. Graham once pontificated how a person must honor such subpoenas. He now has a change of heart regarding the three branches of government and its role as a 'checks and balance.'
We understand that Trump Jr. has established parameters regarding his forthcoming testimony. He (Trump) will set the agenda. What subjects he would be required to answer, how long the testimony and if he already answered any question previously (not under oath) he would still be allowed to state that his previous answer suffices and should be accepted.
Now, I'm going to stop here because there is no need to beat this horse. Let me simply say this: The next time President Trump and misguided flag wavers get in a dither about some Black NFL player kneeling for the National Anthem or not accepting an invitation to visit the White House, don't act like a damn fool criticizing the man. You all know very well that the young Black boy doing jail time for robbery, drug selling or resisting arrest did not get to establish the guidelines and parameters around his jury trial. Even those youngsters who are found innocent do not get to write the rules for the courts or Congress hearings. If you or your son was in those shoes observing our judicial system yield to the wealthy and powerful, you'd take a knee also. And don't crap me or yourself on this one!
Please spare me the military viewpoint on this subject. Our great soldier warriors did not sacrifice for the rich and privileged ONLY!
We understand that Trump Jr. has established parameters regarding his forthcoming testimony. He (Trump) will set the agenda. What subjects he would be required to answer, how long the testimony and if he already answered any question previously (not under oath) he would still be allowed to state that his previous answer suffices and should be accepted.
Now, I'm going to stop here because there is no need to beat this horse. Let me simply say this: The next time President Trump and misguided flag wavers get in a dither about some Black NFL player kneeling for the National Anthem or not accepting an invitation to visit the White House, don't act like a damn fool criticizing the man. You all know very well that the young Black boy doing jail time for robbery, drug selling or resisting arrest did not get to establish the guidelines and parameters around his jury trial. Even those youngsters who are found innocent do not get to write the rules for the courts or Congress hearings. If you or your son was in those shoes observing our judicial system yield to the wealthy and powerful, you'd take a knee also. And don't crap me or yourself on this one!
Please spare me the military viewpoint on this subject. Our great soldier warriors did not sacrifice for the rich and privileged ONLY!
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
As The Youngins Say, "It Is What It Is!"
As expected American farmers will suffer great financial loss as the result of President Trump's ongoing tariff war with China. Well, as Yogi Berra would say "It's de'ja'vu ALL OVER AGAIN."
Those tariff's hurt the American farmers last year and Trump bailed them out to the tune of &12 Billion. Just recently, President Trump said that he plans to do the same this year if the farmers get hurt financially.
TIME OUT! Take a deep breath. Swallow your capitalistic foolish pride and know damn good and well, This Is Socialism, children. SOCIALISM!
You can paint stripes on a Jackass in the attempt to make it look like a Zebra...but it's a Jackass!
Do what you gotta do Comrade Trump.
Oh, I hear the Trump defenders now, "Yeah, but what about Obama? He bailed out the auto industry." He surely did and that was socialism, also. Just own it when it happens on your watch!
Those tariff's hurt the American farmers last year and Trump bailed them out to the tune of &12 Billion. Just recently, President Trump said that he plans to do the same this year if the farmers get hurt financially.
TIME OUT! Take a deep breath. Swallow your capitalistic foolish pride and know damn good and well, This Is Socialism, children. SOCIALISM!
You can paint stripes on a Jackass in the attempt to make it look like a Zebra...but it's a Jackass!
Do what you gotta do Comrade Trump.
Oh, I hear the Trump defenders now, "Yeah, but what about Obama? He bailed out the auto industry." He surely did and that was socialism, also. Just own it when it happens on your watch!
Tuesday, May 14, 2019
Comes With Aging
It's not something one seeks or plans it just shows up. Let me explain through a list of things I perceive differently at age 80 compared to shall we say age 40.
Today...
1. I am more interested in medical research findings.
2. I find elevator music more enjoyable.
3. I read labels on grocery store products.
4. People tell me how good I look.
5. I regret fewer things because I cannot remember more things.
6. I like many of the foods I wouldn't eat as a kid.
7. I'm starting to lie about my children's ages.
8. Today my high school class reunions are luncheons and it's not as crowded.
9. People expect me to wear white socks.
10. I watch a lot of television sitcom comedy re-runs.
11. I read the newspaper's obituary and 50-years ago sections before the sports page.
12. Adult diapers are starting to look more and more attractive.
13. I can call my waitress 'Honey' without fear of a sexual harassment charge.
14. My children don't expect me to attend dance recitals.
15. I Scratch my head trying to understand why President Jimmy Carter got criticized by Evangelicals for saying he was guilty of "lusting" in his heart and those same Evangelicals elected Trump President after he said, he liked grabbing women's vagina's.
16. I use Kleenex.
17. Jury duty does not concern me because in the pre-interviews I make it a point to mention Capital Punishment often.
18. Seize every opportunity when Grandkids visit to ask them to fix my IPad, Smart Phone and Netflix.
(Touch)
Old Timer
Today...
1. I am more interested in medical research findings.
2. I find elevator music more enjoyable.
3. I read labels on grocery store products.
4. People tell me how good I look.
5. I regret fewer things because I cannot remember more things.
6. I like many of the foods I wouldn't eat as a kid.
7. I'm starting to lie about my children's ages.
8. Today my high school class reunions are luncheons and it's not as crowded.
9. People expect me to wear white socks.
10. I watch a lot of television sitcom comedy re-runs.
11. I read the newspaper's obituary and 50-years ago sections before the sports page.
12. Adult diapers are starting to look more and more attractive.
13. I can call my waitress 'Honey' without fear of a sexual harassment charge.
14. My children don't expect me to attend dance recitals.
15. I Scratch my head trying to understand why President Jimmy Carter got criticized by Evangelicals for saying he was guilty of "lusting" in his heart and those same Evangelicals elected Trump President after he said, he liked grabbing women's vagina's.
16. I use Kleenex.
17. Jury duty does not concern me because in the pre-interviews I make it a point to mention Capital Punishment often.
18. Seize every opportunity when Grandkids visit to ask them to fix my IPad, Smart Phone and Netflix.
(Touch)
Old Timer
Monday, May 13, 2019
Value In Eye of Beholder
It was several weeks ago while driving alone and listening to a radio talk show where the topic was America's waste and excessiveness when a caller suggested that a "mild depression might cause Americans to be less wasteful." I thought I'd rather not have a economic depression to teach any lessons. That said, I was reminded of that radio moment just recently when a baseball broadcaster stated that today in a Major League Baseball game "a baseball lasts two pitches before it is thrown out of play usually because the ball bounced in the dirt."
I recalled my East St. Louis youth when as sandlot baseball junkies, my friends and I would hang around the Sunday morning Fountain of Youth Men's baseball games hoping that we might be given a broken bat that we could take home and put a screw in the cracked area and then tape the handle. And if we could talk some player out of an old baseball, we'd use that ball well after it needed taping. I remember back in 1949, my first so-called spike baseball shoes were old street shoes that I screwed cleats onto.
In the early 1950's the 'Browns' American League baseball franchise was still playing at Sportsman's Park in St. Louis. The Brownies fell on hard times financially. So bad was the Browns' money problem they tried to attract fans by letting them use 'yes' and 'no' voting placards to raise when the PA guy asked what game strategy to use in a situation. As a kid, me and my friends would attend Browns' home games for just the tax on a ticket because we belonged to The Knothole Gang. We had to sit in a specific section down the left field line. That section was cordoned off so we could not move to better seats. Oh, another thing: If a foul ball came into the knothole section the Andy Frain ushers told a kid that they had to give the ball back to management or leave the park. Well, you know we left the game. Needless to say, back in the 1950's a baseball lasted more than two pitches at a St. Louis Browns' game.
Excessiveness ? A dozen baseball in the 1950's cost perhaps $15.00-to-$17.00.
Today a dozen baseballs cost $68.00-to-$72.00.
Major League Baseball estimates that it spends $5.5 million dollars annually on baseballs. Does that figure out to be about 900,000 baseballs?
As a 10-year old kid, I never minded using a taped broken bat but I hated using a taped baseball...time to head to head out to the Sunday morning Fountain of Youth game at Jones Park (East St. Louis) or grab your Knothole Membership Card and catch the Grand Avenue streetcar headed to a Brownies' game. Let's face it, a new Baseball to a kid in 1950 was like 'gold.'
I recalled my East St. Louis youth when as sandlot baseball junkies, my friends and I would hang around the Sunday morning Fountain of Youth Men's baseball games hoping that we might be given a broken bat that we could take home and put a screw in the cracked area and then tape the handle. And if we could talk some player out of an old baseball, we'd use that ball well after it needed taping. I remember back in 1949, my first so-called spike baseball shoes were old street shoes that I screwed cleats onto.
In the early 1950's the 'Browns' American League baseball franchise was still playing at Sportsman's Park in St. Louis. The Brownies fell on hard times financially. So bad was the Browns' money problem they tried to attract fans by letting them use 'yes' and 'no' voting placards to raise when the PA guy asked what game strategy to use in a situation. As a kid, me and my friends would attend Browns' home games for just the tax on a ticket because we belonged to The Knothole Gang. We had to sit in a specific section down the left field line. That section was cordoned off so we could not move to better seats. Oh, another thing: If a foul ball came into the knothole section the Andy Frain ushers told a kid that they had to give the ball back to management or leave the park. Well, you know we left the game. Needless to say, back in the 1950's a baseball lasted more than two pitches at a St. Louis Browns' game.
Excessiveness ? A dozen baseball in the 1950's cost perhaps $15.00-to-$17.00.
Today a dozen baseballs cost $68.00-to-$72.00.
Major League Baseball estimates that it spends $5.5 million dollars annually on baseballs. Does that figure out to be about 900,000 baseballs?
As a 10-year old kid, I never minded using a taped broken bat but I hated using a taped baseball...time to head to head out to the Sunday morning Fountain of Youth game at Jones Park (East St. Louis) or grab your Knothole Membership Card and catch the Grand Avenue streetcar headed to a Brownies' game. Let's face it, a new Baseball to a kid in 1950 was like 'gold.'
Friday, May 10, 2019
Pre-Existing Health Conditions & Jesus
John 9..."As Jesus went along , he saw a blind man from birth. ( Now folks, it does not get more pre-existing than 'from birth.') "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" (Would somebody wake up Republican Representative, Mo Brooks from Alabama and read this passage to that fool?)
Christ explained to those asking the question that no person's sin caused the man to be blind but that he was blind so that "The works of God could be displayed in him."
Okay, now that Jesus Christ answered the health insurance question about pre-existing conditions and denounced Mo Brooks' notion that Pastor John Hagee had first hand information from God when Hagee said that Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans because God did not like it that N. O. was going to have a homosexual parade.
These people who speak for God while ignoring the teachings of Christ are scary if not evil. How can anyone be so removed from human suffering and need? How can anyone value money over one's health needs?
Christ explained to those asking the question that no person's sin caused the man to be blind but that he was blind so that "The works of God could be displayed in him."
Okay, now that Jesus Christ answered the health insurance question about pre-existing conditions and denounced Mo Brooks' notion that Pastor John Hagee had first hand information from God when Hagee said that Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans because God did not like it that N. O. was going to have a homosexual parade.
These people who speak for God while ignoring the teachings of Christ are scary if not evil. How can anyone be so removed from human suffering and need? How can anyone value money over one's health needs?
I Shall Say Prayers for Mothers
This Mothers' Day 2019, is a special day and a most unique day. Across America, Mothers' Day is the absolute busiest day for restaurants; ask any waitress or waiter. This Mother's Day children young and old will gather with the matriarchs of their families to lift them in praise and celebrate wonderful recollections.
As I head out to Sunday morning church service, I look forward to walking to the alter, kneeling and thanking God for the incredible strong and loving women in my life's journey. My Mother especially but also Grandmothers, Aunts, Daughters, Granddaughters and my own wife who continues to do a marvelous job in her Mother's role.
This will not be my primary prayer...not at all. My own heart aches for the hundreds of thousands of mother's who carry great heartache from the loss of a child. I shall pray for that mother somewhere who kept a hopeful vigil as her young child lost the fight against disease. I will whisper a prayer for that mother who prayed and worried about her soldier son and her worst fears came true. I will ask God to comfort the mother of a child who died in a auto accident or committed suicide. I will plead with God for His comforting Grace on every Mother with such emotional pain.
Finally, I will ask God to forgive a Nation which lost its moral compass on December 14, 2012, when a mentally deranged individual massacred 20 children at their first grade school classroom and that Nation (the United States) continues to do nothing to address the plethora of guns in our society and the unchecked mental illness in our midst.
May God have mercy on the souls of our elected leaders who fail to act in behalf of those most precious and vulnerable...our children. Those officials and elected leaders who ignore this unimaginable pain in a mother's heart will undoubtedly stumble into Hell.
As I head out to Sunday morning church service, I look forward to walking to the alter, kneeling and thanking God for the incredible strong and loving women in my life's journey. My Mother especially but also Grandmothers, Aunts, Daughters, Granddaughters and my own wife who continues to do a marvelous job in her Mother's role.
This will not be my primary prayer...not at all. My own heart aches for the hundreds of thousands of mother's who carry great heartache from the loss of a child. I shall pray for that mother somewhere who kept a hopeful vigil as her young child lost the fight against disease. I will whisper a prayer for that mother who prayed and worried about her soldier son and her worst fears came true. I will ask God to comfort the mother of a child who died in a auto accident or committed suicide. I will plead with God for His comforting Grace on every Mother with such emotional pain.
Finally, I will ask God to forgive a Nation which lost its moral compass on December 14, 2012, when a mentally deranged individual massacred 20 children at their first grade school classroom and that Nation (the United States) continues to do nothing to address the plethora of guns in our society and the unchecked mental illness in our midst.
May God have mercy on the souls of our elected leaders who fail to act in behalf of those most precious and vulnerable...our children. Those officials and elected leaders who ignore this unimaginable pain in a mother's heart will undoubtedly stumble into Hell.
Thursday, May 9, 2019
Ode to White Bucks
I was sitting in the Mall Courtyard waiting for my wife to finish her shopping when I noticed several teen girls passing by wearing jeans with holes. It's obvious that the holes are strategically located as part of a fashion statement. Folks from this old man's generation don't 'get it.' Nope, we were told not to wear such clothing because people would think your poor. In the same breath, mom told us to wear clean underwear in case, blah, blah...
The first ten years of my life, I was unaware and unconcerned about fashions. I thought everybody wanted to wear jeans, a white T-shirt and Chuck Taylor Converse All Star tennis shoes; everybody I knew did! About the time I hit 6th grade and certainly junior high status, I was nudged by peers to the must world of Levi's and soon thereafter 'white buck shoes.'
Those high school years demanded cord pants (a pair of both blue and brown pin stripes), St. Louis orange thread needle shoes and 'Mr B' collar shirts. The V-neck sweater and khaki pants were a wardrobe must along with buckskin brown shoes and black and white saddle shoes. The latter shoe required a confident male. Argyle socks were a must beneath tapered or pegged pants.
When my eighth grade buddy, Terry and I walked into the Majestic Theater wearing tan leather thread needles, pegged blue cord pants, a pink Mr. 'B' Shirt and a white large brim Stetson hat with a black ban, we were too much to behold!
Recently, I am reminded that my clothing fashion has come 'full circle.' Today, I'm wearing white socks inside New Balance athletic shoes, shorts and a T-shirt. Finally, once again, I don't care
so much what others think but more about how I feel.
(Touch)
Lookin' Good
The first ten years of my life, I was unaware and unconcerned about fashions. I thought everybody wanted to wear jeans, a white T-shirt and Chuck Taylor Converse All Star tennis shoes; everybody I knew did! About the time I hit 6th grade and certainly junior high status, I was nudged by peers to the must world of Levi's and soon thereafter 'white buck shoes.'
Those high school years demanded cord pants (a pair of both blue and brown pin stripes), St. Louis orange thread needle shoes and 'Mr B' collar shirts. The V-neck sweater and khaki pants were a wardrobe must along with buckskin brown shoes and black and white saddle shoes. The latter shoe required a confident male. Argyle socks were a must beneath tapered or pegged pants.
When my eighth grade buddy, Terry and I walked into the Majestic Theater wearing tan leather thread needles, pegged blue cord pants, a pink Mr. 'B' Shirt and a white large brim Stetson hat with a black ban, we were too much to behold!
Recently, I am reminded that my clothing fashion has come 'full circle.' Today, I'm wearing white socks inside New Balance athletic shoes, shorts and a T-shirt. Finally, once again, I don't care
so much what others think but more about how I feel.
(Touch)
Lookin' Good
Wednesday, May 8, 2019
Stages of 'Waiting.'
Have you given much thought to 'waiting?' Perhaps yes, perhaps no. Regardless, you and me and everybody has done a bunch of waiting in our life's journey. There is the mindless mundane waiting at stop lights, grocery lines and that ever slow descending elevator. We recall our childhood's eager waiting for Santa, birthdays and summer vacations from school. We begin getting that taste of adult kinds of waiting as we anticipate our driver's license and that passage-rights threshold of age twenty-one. Much of those teen waiting moments were in anticipation of fun with friends or that time to be with your sweetheart, all of which was carefree waiting.
The adult waiting experience became less carefree than childhood and teen years' waiting. There seem to be a greater frequency of anxious waiting. Waiting for the telephone to ring when a voice on the other end might tell you that "the job is yours." The mixed emotional excitement of the birth of a child. At that same birth-waiting one has the anxiousness of mother and baby's health and well-being upon and after delivery. Soon the parents come to understand that children bring forth their greatest joys and equally their greatest fears.
While parents are vacillating between the waiting joys and anxieties with their children, they are often introduced to a much different, vigil type waiting. A parent undergoes surgery or faces medical tests and or treatments while we wait for good news and good outcomes. There seems to be no time in our journey when times moves more at a snail's pace as it does regarding personal and family health issues.
Of course, we tell ourselves that our lack of patience when waiting causes us to miss Blessings and patience is a vital part of trusting God. Yet as often as we tell ourselves to let go and let God, we somehow seem to be in the grips of a thought that should we not be anxious and not worry, we perhaps are failing to do our part and thus lack caring.
The adult waiting experience became less carefree than childhood and teen years' waiting. There seem to be a greater frequency of anxious waiting. Waiting for the telephone to ring when a voice on the other end might tell you that "the job is yours." The mixed emotional excitement of the birth of a child. At that same birth-waiting one has the anxiousness of mother and baby's health and well-being upon and after delivery. Soon the parents come to understand that children bring forth their greatest joys and equally their greatest fears.
While parents are vacillating between the waiting joys and anxieties with their children, they are often introduced to a much different, vigil type waiting. A parent undergoes surgery or faces medical tests and or treatments while we wait for good news and good outcomes. There seems to be no time in our journey when times moves more at a snail's pace as it does regarding personal and family health issues.
Of course, we tell ourselves that our lack of patience when waiting causes us to miss Blessings and patience is a vital part of trusting God. Yet as often as we tell ourselves to let go and let God, we somehow seem to be in the grips of a thought that should we not be anxious and not worry, we perhaps are failing to do our part and thus lack caring.
Tuesday, May 7, 2019
Summertime, Summertime
In a few days, Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic grade school, which is adjacent to my backyard will close for summer vacation and with that the playground and athletic field will fall silent. No bells ringing, no children chatter and laughter...nothing but quiet. My wife and I always miss the kids during summer months.
Yesterday, after finishing garden tilling, I was seated on the backyard swing and hearing the youthful voices over my shoulder when I wondered just how different summer vacations might be for a sixth or seventh grade boy of 11-and-12 years old. I still recall those days sixty-eight summers past. There never was lacking enthusiasm for each summer day and no computers or air-conditioning to make 'inside' look more attractive than 'outside.' We were 'OUT-THE-HOUSE!'
The activities were plentiful with essentially no adult organization needed. Early morning side-street softball games required limited numbers and we had enough early risers to make it happen. Later in the morning it was Indian Ball (an original St. Louis game; look it up). In the afternoon a sandlot game surely got under way. Two week-nights were organized baseball youth leagues.
Sure we had breaks in the action...that's when we poured a bag of peanuts into a Pepsi bottle and pitched pennies or baseball cards against outside building walls and the winner was the guy whose coin/card ended closer to the wall. As night fell, we organized kick-the-can games, which could be interrupted by the hot tamale push-cart guy. No, we were not always 'good kids.' Rotten eggs found behind a grocery store was a terrible temptation as was water filled balloons. I'll leave it there.
At ages 13-to-15, we added citywide open gyms, which provided the opportunity to play basketball games against the best talent offered East of the mighty Mississippi. America Legion baseball was huge in the St. Louis metropolitan area. Of course, we were now factoring girls into the our summer schedules. Who am I kidding? They were factored in 'all seasons.' Those years before age 16, when we could get summer employment, we were gone from sun up to the supper hour and then in the backyard shooting hoops under the floodlights. Parents seemingly did not worry about our whereabouts.
Today, I cannot help but notice the absence of youth on summer sandlots and never do I hear neighborhood children voices engaged in street and sidewalk games. My own Grandkids seem to be involved in organized activities with adults explaining and managing the games. I wonder if these kids are denied developing leadership and organizational skills as a result of evaporating informal play?
Perhaps technology, air-conditioning and safety fears have softened and cheated my grandkids. School bus transportation means kids don't walk and talk much any more, instead their social networking is a text message. Interpersonal communication skills are a crap-shoot. It's much cooler inside playing 'Super Lego DC Super Villains.' No sweating. And unfortunately, parents seem to have more worries these days than in the 1940's regarding serial killers, sexual perverts and kidnappers. Mom stopped warning me about those baby-stealing Gypsies at the edge of the city once I turned eleven. I suppose she figured no body wanted a dirty grimy adolescent boy.
(Touch)
Schools Out
Yesterday, after finishing garden tilling, I was seated on the backyard swing and hearing the youthful voices over my shoulder when I wondered just how different summer vacations might be for a sixth or seventh grade boy of 11-and-12 years old. I still recall those days sixty-eight summers past. There never was lacking enthusiasm for each summer day and no computers or air-conditioning to make 'inside' look more attractive than 'outside.' We were 'OUT-THE-HOUSE!'
The activities were plentiful with essentially no adult organization needed. Early morning side-street softball games required limited numbers and we had enough early risers to make it happen. Later in the morning it was Indian Ball (an original St. Louis game; look it up). In the afternoon a sandlot game surely got under way. Two week-nights were organized baseball youth leagues.
Sure we had breaks in the action...that's when we poured a bag of peanuts into a Pepsi bottle and pitched pennies or baseball cards against outside building walls and the winner was the guy whose coin/card ended closer to the wall. As night fell, we organized kick-the-can games, which could be interrupted by the hot tamale push-cart guy. No, we were not always 'good kids.' Rotten eggs found behind a grocery store was a terrible temptation as was water filled balloons. I'll leave it there.
At ages 13-to-15, we added citywide open gyms, which provided the opportunity to play basketball games against the best talent offered East of the mighty Mississippi. America Legion baseball was huge in the St. Louis metropolitan area. Of course, we were now factoring girls into the our summer schedules. Who am I kidding? They were factored in 'all seasons.' Those years before age 16, when we could get summer employment, we were gone from sun up to the supper hour and then in the backyard shooting hoops under the floodlights. Parents seemingly did not worry about our whereabouts.
Today, I cannot help but notice the absence of youth on summer sandlots and never do I hear neighborhood children voices engaged in street and sidewalk games. My own Grandkids seem to be involved in organized activities with adults explaining and managing the games. I wonder if these kids are denied developing leadership and organizational skills as a result of evaporating informal play?
Perhaps technology, air-conditioning and safety fears have softened and cheated my grandkids. School bus transportation means kids don't walk and talk much any more, instead their social networking is a text message. Interpersonal communication skills are a crap-shoot. It's much cooler inside playing 'Super Lego DC Super Villains.' No sweating. And unfortunately, parents seem to have more worries these days than in the 1940's regarding serial killers, sexual perverts and kidnappers. Mom stopped warning me about those baby-stealing Gypsies at the edge of the city once I turned eleven. I suppose she figured no body wanted a dirty grimy adolescent boy.
(Touch)
Schools Out
Friday, May 3, 2019
Bring Back the 'Fields' of Honor.'
So much for 'The Fields' of Dreams.' Bring back 'The Fields' of Honor.' The time is right! America needs to embrace Socrates' plea, "Know Thyself." Who would not agree that our countrymen have a history of being adventurous, rugged, explorers and 'cowboys' forever? Heavens, we loved our horses so dearly that we continue in this 21st century to measure the dynamics of our autos in terms of 'horse power.' We're COWBOYS and as Cowboys we must remember the importance of honor.
People get all excited about the current state of political divisiveness and ugly wrangling. We hear our elected leaders call opponents liars, cowards and sexual predators as hate rhetoric overflows. That's not new, folks. Our American politicians have always showed their ass-side more than their Judeo-Christian side. The only thing that has changed is we no longer have dueling matches to settle the score and protect one's honor. It's time the dueling 'fields of honor' are brought back to the land of the free and the home of the brave. Damnit, Make America Great Again!
Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton settled their differences in 1804 and two years later Andrew Jackson and Charles Dickinson did likewise. Even Abe Lincoln and James Shields were prepared to exchange gun shots when the blood shed was avoided with an apology. Can you believe Mark Twain could have been killed by James Laird in a dueling match...its true. Wow! Had that happened I would have no reason to visit Hannibal, Missouri.
Well, the time is ripe in the good old USA to break out the dueling pistols and stand back-to-back!
President Trump would no longer need to ask his supporters at rallies to "knock him out, I'll pay the lawyers' fee." No sir, Trump could challenge people who offends his honor to a duel...and Joe Biden would not need to "take Trump behind the gym." With 24-7 cable news, we could all push for specific dueling square-offs. We could hold dueling events at the Super Bowl half-time and get The NRA to sponsor and provide free beer and brats. Mercy, gun sales would sky-rocket! AND, the greatest benefit coming from the return of dueling would be the riddance of some politicians, i.e. wild animals, which kill off the undesirables among them. For future phraseology reference, we will not call dueling matches a 'thinning of the herd' but instead use the phrase, 'flushing the crap.'
(Touch)
I Shot That Scondrel
People get all excited about the current state of political divisiveness and ugly wrangling. We hear our elected leaders call opponents liars, cowards and sexual predators as hate rhetoric overflows. That's not new, folks. Our American politicians have always showed their ass-side more than their Judeo-Christian side. The only thing that has changed is we no longer have dueling matches to settle the score and protect one's honor. It's time the dueling 'fields of honor' are brought back to the land of the free and the home of the brave. Damnit, Make America Great Again!
Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton settled their differences in 1804 and two years later Andrew Jackson and Charles Dickinson did likewise. Even Abe Lincoln and James Shields were prepared to exchange gun shots when the blood shed was avoided with an apology. Can you believe Mark Twain could have been killed by James Laird in a dueling match...its true. Wow! Had that happened I would have no reason to visit Hannibal, Missouri.
Well, the time is ripe in the good old USA to break out the dueling pistols and stand back-to-back!
President Trump would no longer need to ask his supporters at rallies to "knock him out, I'll pay the lawyers' fee." No sir, Trump could challenge people who offends his honor to a duel...and Joe Biden would not need to "take Trump behind the gym." With 24-7 cable news, we could all push for specific dueling square-offs. We could hold dueling events at the Super Bowl half-time and get The NRA to sponsor and provide free beer and brats. Mercy, gun sales would sky-rocket! AND, the greatest benefit coming from the return of dueling would be the riddance of some politicians, i.e. wild animals, which kill off the undesirables among them. For future phraseology reference, we will not call dueling matches a 'thinning of the herd' but instead use the phrase, 'flushing the crap.'
(Touch)
I Shot That Scondrel
Thursday, May 2, 2019
What Say You?
In these times of seemingly endless debates, I found it refreshing to get a question recently that called for a 'one-word' answer. I thought I'd pose the question to you readers. For clarification let's understand the two words, which constitutes our one-answer selection.
Christian= a person who believes in and follows the teachings of Christ.
Bigots= a person who regards or treats members of a group with hatred or intolerance.
I asked the person who posed the question: "Why do you ask?" He said, "I've always heard people refer to our country as a Christian Nation but I just wonder if we have more bigots than Christians in America."
Question: Which type person do we find mostly in America? >> Christians-or-Bigots
Of course, you may elaborate but you need not. Remember the words of Ray Charles...
"Everybody's got their own opinion, and you know I sure got mine..."
(Touch)
Its My World
Christian= a person who believes in and follows the teachings of Christ.
Bigots= a person who regards or treats members of a group with hatred or intolerance.
I asked the person who posed the question: "Why do you ask?" He said, "I've always heard people refer to our country as a Christian Nation but I just wonder if we have more bigots than Christians in America."
Question: Which type person do we find mostly in America? >> Christians-or-Bigots
Of course, you may elaborate but you need not. Remember the words of Ray Charles...
"Everybody's got their own opinion, and you know I sure got mine..."
(Touch)
Its My World
Wednesday, May 1, 2019
I See The Signs of Aging.
Since my intellect is slightly above average, I have therefore subscribed to the KISS Philosophy in all matters. That's correct, Keep It Simple Stupid is a plea for others to make the thinking at my end 'easy,' which aids in my understanding. That plea becomes a 'beg' at age eighty!
I do not find anything humorous about restaurant restrooms having indistinct figures on doors or unfamiliar names to indicate men and women. Simply state on the doors> MEN or WOMEN. I do not wish to decipher 'Blokes' and 'Shelia' on restroom doors unless I'm in Australia and please don't make me study pictures of Roosters and Hens when this old bladder is maxed out. Besides, I'm already irritated trying different objects under my restaurant table to stop it from wobbling.
Speaking of restaurants, do you readers know that Milton Hershey, the great chocolate guy built a Circular restaurant in his Hotel Hershey, which you can visit today in Hershey, Pennsylvania? Well he did and his reasoning was a bit personal. Milton Hershey was a small man in physical stature and during his world travels, Hershey believed that smaller men dinning alone were often seated in the back corners of dinning rooms in less desirable locations. Therefore, Hershey's Circular Restaurant would not have those unwanted back-in-the-corner seating places. Personally, as I've grown longer in the tooth, I prefer that inconspicuous spot that allows me to settle in with my newspaper and read my favorite section: '50-Years Ago Today,' i.e. Stan Musial inducted into National Baseball Hall of Fame on July 28, 1969. I've also noticed that during my senior years, I pay more attention to my food than my waitress; I'm getting old.
(Touch)
In Some Secluded Rendezvous
I do not find anything humorous about restaurant restrooms having indistinct figures on doors or unfamiliar names to indicate men and women. Simply state on the doors> MEN or WOMEN. I do not wish to decipher 'Blokes' and 'Shelia' on restroom doors unless I'm in Australia and please don't make me study pictures of Roosters and Hens when this old bladder is maxed out. Besides, I'm already irritated trying different objects under my restaurant table to stop it from wobbling.
Speaking of restaurants, do you readers know that Milton Hershey, the great chocolate guy built a Circular restaurant in his Hotel Hershey, which you can visit today in Hershey, Pennsylvania? Well he did and his reasoning was a bit personal. Milton Hershey was a small man in physical stature and during his world travels, Hershey believed that smaller men dinning alone were often seated in the back corners of dinning rooms in less desirable locations. Therefore, Hershey's Circular Restaurant would not have those unwanted back-in-the-corner seating places. Personally, as I've grown longer in the tooth, I prefer that inconspicuous spot that allows me to settle in with my newspaper and read my favorite section: '50-Years Ago Today,' i.e. Stan Musial inducted into National Baseball Hall of Fame on July 28, 1969. I've also noticed that during my senior years, I pay more attention to my food than my waitress; I'm getting old.
(Touch)
In Some Secluded Rendezvous
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